#logically i know she’s probably shutting down because she doesn’t want to say anything when she’s in a bad mood that she could regret

[daisyjohnsn]

love when my mom is upset about something not involving me and starts just ignoring me

[corroded-hellfire]

My gorgeous soulmate. The love of my life. I can’t stop thinking about Reader waiting for a ride and accidentally overhearing Eddie talking to the Hellfire guys about some beautiful girl and how he’s afraid to ask her out. Reader assumes it’s someone else and leaves because she’s upset and doesn’t want him to see her. Bonus points for wingman Dusty Bun, but not necessary. Okay love you byeeeeee xoxoxo @munson-blurbs 💚

Hello, my darling dearest. I hope you enjoy this and I love you too! 💕

Words: 1.5k

Band practice ran late, but that didn’t matter one bit. Your older brother was always running behind to pick you up, leaving you the lone person sitting outside the school, waiting. Usually, you had a book with you, but you’d finished your last one and hadn’t gotten a chance to check a new one out of the library today. Honestly, the fierce autumn wind may have prevented you from reading anyway; the pages would be obeying Mother Nature, not you. The wind whistles and whips so viciously that you slide off of the brick wall you’re sitting on top of and seat yourself on the cold sidewalk, pressing as close to the wall as you can to avoid the harsh blowing.

Luckily, the gust eases up and you only end up having four leaves stuck to your clothing. As you’re picking them from your gray sweater, you hear the telltale squeak of the main doors of the school opening. Your brow creases in confusion because you didn’t realize anyone else was here this late. The dark evening has your mind floating back to the dozens of slasher movies you’ve seen that started with this very scenario. Taking care to be as quiet as possible, you tuck your legs up against your body as you hug your backpack to your chest.

“Damn Eddie, I’ve never heard you talk this way before.”

The voice is vaguely familiar. Nancy’s brother maybe? Right! He’s in Hellfire with Eddie Munson, who must be the Eddie he’s speaking to. An involuntary smile curls on your lips at the boy you’re head over heels for being just a few feet away. The closer they get, the easier it is for you to hear the thunk of the metalhead’s boots coming down the sidewalk. 

“Ugh, I know,” Eddie says, a hint of a whine in his happy-go-lucky voice. “But she’s so fuckin’ beautiful.”

The butterflies in your stomach sour, churning at hearing Eddie talk this way about some girl. He’s not doing anything wrong, and logically you know that. He doesn’t owe you anything. But irritation bubbles up in you as a defense from the heartbreak you’re desperately trying to run away from. Your fingers dig into your backpack as you squeeze your eyes closed to prevent the tears from leaking out.

“Ask her out!” That voice was Jeff’s—from your history class.

Eddie scoffs and you can just picture him shaking his head, his frizzy curls swaying back and forth. The thought of Eddie asking a girl out forces the hot tears to leak down your face, despite how tightly you’ve been keeping them closed. 

“Like she would want to go out with me,” he says. 

Now your heart also breaks for Eddie. Who could be so stupid as to not want to go out with him?

“Aww, I think you’re scared,” another voice goads. Probably the curly-haired boy that’s friends with the Wheeler boy. 

“I’m not scared,” Eddie says. “I’m just…afraid.”

“That’s the same thing!” Wheeler says before you hear a thump and the boy mutters an, “Ow!”

“Shut it, Wheeler. I don’t want to hear shit from you or Henderson on girls. Both of your girls live far away. Huh, kind of convenient, isn’t it?” Eddie asks. “They’re probably as real as the damn hair on top of Higgin’s head.”

“Hey!” Wheeler shouts.

“That’s bullshit!” the boy who must be Henderson shouts at the same time.

“You guys are letting him change the subject,” Jeff says. “When are you going to ask her out?”

Instead of giving an answer, you can hear Eddie grumbling under his breath the closer they get to you. It won’t be long now before they’ll walk past the wall and see you sitting on the ground. Waiting for a ride is easy enough to explain, but the tear tracks running down your face are a different matter. 

Before the group of guys can get any closer, you carefully push yourself onto your knees. Balancing yourself against the wall with one hand, you seek out somewhere you can hide. The corner of the wall is pretty far away, you’d never be able to crawl there fast enough. If you stand up though, you could walk that distance. Realizing crouching down so far is going to kill your back, you push up to your feet and keep your torso and head low as you speedwalk to the corner of the wall. 

Luckily, it’s just a grassy lawn on the other side of the wall, so you throw yourself down on it and catch your breath. Unluckily, you hear the piercing whine of your brother’s car pulling up towards Hawkins High. Fuck. Of course he comes now. 

You peek out from your safe space around the wall and see that Eddie and the rest of the Hellfire gang are climbing into Eddie’s van. A rush of breath leaves your lungs and you’re sure your adrenaline is about to come crashing down.

Your brother pulls up to the curb and you push yourself off of the grass and quickly slide into the passenger’s seat. 

“Uh, you okay?” your brother asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Fine,” you huff. “Just go.”

Like the piece of gum you’d stepped in last week, the sharp pains in your heart stay with you much longer than you’d like. The next day, right before last period, you’re at your locker, switching out your books and hoping your eyes don’t look as puffy as they feel.

“Uh, hey.”

The voice makes you jump and drop your biology book. You don’t have to turn around to know who it is; you’d know that voice anywhere. It’s just never been so close to your ear before.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry,” Eddie says as he bends down to pick up your book. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No, it’s okay,” you manage to say as you turn around to face him. “Thank you,” you say as he gives you your science book back. 

Eddie clears his throat and glances over his shoulder before looking back at you—or rather, your shoes. Curious, you follow the line of sight where Eddie had just looked, and you see the curly-haired boy from Hellfire peeking around the corner. Henderson. As soon as he notices you looking, he pops back out of sight. 

“I, uh,” Eddie says as he finds the courage to meet your eye. “Hey.”

“You said that,” you say with a shy smile. “But then I freaked out, so…hi.”

The smile Eddie gives you isn’t his biggest by far, but it still makes your knees go wobbly. 

“You’re in band, right?” Eddie asks, reaching up and scratching the back of his neck. 

“I am.”

“Yeah. So, I was wondering if maybe after the game this Friday you might want to grab a bite to eat? With, um, me?”

The world freezes around you, time completely stopping. Your body is locked in place as you stare at Eddie with wide eyes. He just asked me out, you think. Why would he ask me out? He thinks that other girl is beauti—holy shit. I’m the beautiful girl he was talking about? This defies all that you thought you knew in the world. Is this a parallel universe where guys actually like you back? You realize you’ve just been staring at him since you spoke.

“Yeah. T-That sounds nice,” you say.

“Really?” Eddie’s eyes light up and your heart comes to a halt inside your chest.

“Yes,” you say with a small chuckle.

“Wow. Awesome. Okay, wow.” His disbelief shocks you. How in the hell was he afraid to ask you out? You’re just…you. He gives you a wider grin now before tugging up the sleeve of his leather jacket. “Do you have a pen?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah!” You grab a pen from your locker and write down your number on Eddie’s pale skin, right below a colony of inked bats. 

“Great,” Eddie says as he pulls his sleeve back down. “Um, I’ll wait in the gym after the game?”

“Sure. It’ll only take me a few minutes to change and get everything put away.”

“Awesome,” Eddie says again, and seeing him acting this nervous just tickles you pink. You’re not sure you’ve ever heard him say “awesome” before and now he’s said it twice within the last minute. “I guess I’ll see you in English tomorrow.”

“Sounds good. Oh, Eddie, wait. You’re going to go to the game?” You raise your eyebrows in disbelief. “I thought you hated basketball.”

“Oh. Well, I do,” he says with a chuckle. “Easier to take you out after the game if I’m there, though. And, uh, you know, Sinclair’s been bugging me to come see him play.”

“Right,” you say. 

Eddie’s cheeks turn a light red as he gives you a bashful smile. 

“See you later, beautiful,” he says. He doesn’t give you time to even react to his words before he’s heading down the hall. 

“Holy shit,” you whisper to yourself. “I make Eddie nervous?”

A jovial giggle slips past your lips as you close your locker. You feel like you owe the Hellfire guys a thank you. 

[milykins]

TMNT Headcanon - Losing Their Virginity

*Turtles are at least 18, Bayverse turtles

*18+ Readers only, contains sexual content and language you may find offensive.

*Third person female POV

Mikey's Story

Raph's Story

Leo's Story

It's finally time for Donnie's story! I'm so relieved I actually finished a series and I didn't lose my creative flame. Thanks everyone for the likes and reblogs!

Being the last of his brothers to be a virgin was embarrassing. Donnie knows his brothers would never outright tease him about it but it stung nonetheless. Even straight-laced Leo got a girlfriend before him! This wouldn’t do, not at all and Donnie was going to do something about it. Now he doesn’t do anything right away but he does make this elaborate plan to meet someone. It doesn’t work, unfortunately. The poor girl runs away screaming at the sight of him.

In the aftermath of his failure he does what he does best. He retreats into himself and stays in his lab for weeks on end. Even Raph is a little worried about their brother in purple but they all leave him to work things out on his own. He always does.

Fortunately he’s got distractions to keep him from falling completely into the abyss and is very well-known in the online gaming community. He’s got friends on there too, including someone he’s gotten pretty close to. She uses an androgynous name and a voice changer so the guys on there don’t know she’s female. The combat sessions were just easier that way. Even Donnie wasn't aware of her secret until one day when she forgets to use the voice changer and everyone in the party realizes she's been a girl all along. Almost immediately the derogatory comments start up. Don, however, is quick to shut them down and snaps at the other guys for objectifying her like that. He sounded so sweet in his defense of her and as a result, she stops using the voice changer from that moment on. She does apologize to him for hiding her gender in a private voice chat with just the two of them and he completely understands. He promises her that he won't let anyone bother her if he can help it.

Donnie is pleased to have made a new female friend. They get to chatting more and more and even do a few voice calls. He is ever so careful not to let slip that he’s a 6’8” mutant turtle. Still, his walls come down somewhat the closer they get. They even exchange numbers and do a few voice calls. She texts him daily with little memes and fun facts. Donnie reciprocates by texting her his random thought of the day. He also texts her riddles and is highly aware that she wants to figure them out for herself, no hints.

One day he gets a text that kicks up his fight or flight instinct. A simple ‘Can we meet?’ At this point, they had been friends for a good few months and Donnie never dreamed it would go beyond that. His logical brain thought it would be better to keep her at arms length. That way, nobody would get hurt. Still, his fingers itched to type back ‘yes, when and where?’ he really wanted to meet her but the fear of what she’d think of him when she discovered what he truly was kept him from typing that out. Instead he types: ‘it’s probably not a good idea… we should keep things as they are.’ He still couldn’t bring himself to press ‘send’.

Several minutes later he was still trying to find an answer. She seemed to sense her question was ill-timed and apologizes, saying she realizes they aren’t ready for that yet. Immediately his fingers fly to the keyboard typing rapidly. He does want to meet her, he just hesitated because he was nervous and there’s something she needs to know first. He sits there then, his heart pounding as anxiety takes over. This was it, she was going to find out he was a monster, a freak and he was going to lose her. Finally he makes his decision. He calls her, trying to keep his voice from shaking and stutters out where to meet him.

Donnie shows up with a purple hoodie on covering his head and leaves most of his tech in his lab. He keeps his phone on him and a hidden bo staff just in case. He stays hidden in the shadows until he sees her. His breath catches in his throat, she was beautiful. Red hair… he had such a weakness for redheads. There’s a light dusting of freckles on her nose, and her expression showed she was nervous and unsure. She’s looking around everywhere for him, afraid he wasn’t going to show up.

Donnie steels himself; it was now or never. Very gingerly, he emerges, keeping his head down. He tells her it’s him, his voice shaking slightly. She’s immediately struck by how tall he is, she loved tall men, it was her weakness. She was confused by his body posture and why it looked like he was wearing a backpack. Donnie quietly asks her not to scream because he’s not exactly human and doesn’t want to scare her. He takes his hood off and braces himself for the inevitable. But it doesn’t come. She gasps at his appearance with obvious wonder and not disgust as he thought she would. He watches her carefully as she steps closer to get a better look. She tells him now she knows how Belle felt meeting the Beast the first time except she's not afraid of him. At that, Donnie has to smile because he knows Beauty and the Beast is her favourite Disney movie and that she held the steadfast belief that the Beast never should have changed into a human. He relaxes more then and asks her if she’d like to hang out for a while. She agrees and is full of questions for the duration of the night. Donnie is happy to answer each and every one of them if it means he gets to spend more time with her. She gives him a kiss on the cheek when they finally part ways and he’s so elated he feels like he could sing.

Donnie has a girlfriend. He has an actual girlfriend. At first his brothers tease him saying at least he didn’t have to build one. Truthfully though, they’re very happy for him and relieved because they can see an obvious change in him. He’s happier and he’s not staying holed up in his lab like he used to. It’s not long before he invites her down to the lair to meet his family and show her around. He’s so proud to show off all the things he’s been working on and even more proud to show her his bigger projects like the TTT or Turtle Tactical Truck. She is definitely awed by his accomplishments and thinks it’s very sweet that this awkward, nerdy, sweetheart of a turtle was trying so hard to impress her. If it wasn't obvious, Donnie has already fallen head over heels for this girl but he hasn’t told her yet nor have they made love. He wants it to be perfect.

In his effort to do this, it takes him a long time to plan it. Luckily, his new girlfriend is very patient and they do get closer in other ways. He gives her the full rundown on his ‘equipment’, telling her exactly how it differs from a human male’s, but assuring her it still functions as such. She can’t help but giggle at how serious he’s being about it all and assures him that she still wants to try either way. Donnie hurriedly tells her that there’s no rush and that they can take their time with such things. He’s secretly afraid it might be too painful for her and wants to be fully prepared so they are able to make it work between them.

Donnie is the only one of his brothers to do actual research on how to properly please a woman. After all, research is what he does best and he’s nervous but excited to put it into practice. Needless to say, she’s very pleased with the results and though they don’t have actual sex in the coming weeks, they get awfully close.

It happens on the very special date he has planned for her. Now, Donnie, being well, himself, has its definite advantages. One of which being his ability to break in and hack his way into pretty much anywhere. On the day of the date, he tells her to dress up and meet him at the planetarium. Upon meeting her there, he whisks her away to a secret entrance where they can view the planetarium from above and enjoy a private meal. Mikey had been more than willing to pack some food and snacks for them. 'Tonight my Donnie boy, you become a man.' ... 'Thanks, Mikey..."

After the meal is finished, he takes her into the theatre with the large domed projection screen. He tells her to close her eyes and count to three. When she opens them, he’ll have turned on the projector and she sees millions of stars, planets, and galaxies above them. It’s the most romantic thing she’s ever experienced. Her eyes are a bit misty when he shyly asks if she likes it.

Her response is standing on her tiptoes, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him like her life depends on it. Donnie reacts immediately, his long, lean arms catching her and holding her close as he angles his mouth to kiss her more deeply. Minutes later, they’re breathing deeply and staring into each other’s eyes. That’s when he knows it’s time, he loves her and he’s going to tell her. He whispers it, afraid that if he says it any louder she might not feel the same way. She whispers it back, honestly, that she loves him and tells him just how special and unique he is, and how she’s feels so lucky to have met him. He can’t help but reiterate that he’s the lucky one before covering her mouth with his. Several passionate moments later he pulls back with a question in his eyes. She absolutely picks up on it, and breathlessly asks him to come back to her apartment with her. Donnie has never moved so fast in his life. He shuts everything down, grabs their things and exits the building with her in less than five minutes.

Upon arrival to the apartment things escalate quickly. Gear and belongings are dropped haphazardly and there’s a desperation to undress her as quickly as possible before he practically carries her to her bedroom. Pretty soon he’s also bare and has her laid out beneath him trembling with need. His touch is skillful and precise. He is methodical about this, he wants to do as much foreplay and prep-work to make this as painless and pleasurable as he possibly can. He works at gently stretching her opening while making her feel good at the same time. When the time comes for her to take him inside he goes inch by inch, always stopping and checking if she’s still all right. He’s the only one of his brothers to use a condom, ‘just in case’ and ‘safety first’. It had taken some looking though to find ones large enough to accommodate him.

 She only feels a slight amount of pain, grateful to him for taking the time to ready her and falls in love with him just a little more from his thoughtfulness and care. Once she’s ready, he does a few practiced thrusts and oh boy, nothing could have prepared him for how good this would feel. He can’t help but stutter it out to her, how amazing she is and how much he loves her. She whispers it back and tells him likewise how good it feels to have him inside of her.

He’s spurred on by her words of encouragement he moves faster and has to concentrate on not being the first to finish. With a careful hand he snakes his fingers between their bodies and rubs her sensitive nub in well-practiced circles with his thumb, he whispers how beautiful she is and how much he wants to hear her come. He gently urges her, ‘come for me, come for me, beautiful… let me hear you.’

Almost immediately, her body locks up and the grip on his shoulders tightens while she digs her fingernails into his tough skin. Her cries are absolute music to his ears and he decides he needs to hear her make these types of sounds as often as he can. He grunts softly as his own release comes moments after hers, he groans deeply while his body shudders from the blinding amount of pleasure he feels.

The aftermath is composed of soft kisses, whispered murmurings of love and a gentle cleanup, her before himself of course. Donnie’s conclusion is that this has to be the happiest moment of his life… so far. The best is yet to come.

Mikey does congratulate him when he returns home.

The End

[slxsherr]

Feeling Like I Never Should

read part II here

pairing: kirby reed x fem!reader x charlie walker

summary: kirby is your best friend, which is why she knows you and charlie will never get together without a little outside help.

wc: 3077

warnings: fem!reader, inexperienced!reader, inexperienced!charlie, dom!kirby(?), cursing/swearing, descriptions of alcohol & alcohol consumption, oral sex (f! receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (p in v), squirting, creampie, virginity loss

a/n: this is kinda very kirby centered but for good reason

Kirby is your best friend, and as your best friend she knows exactly when you need a push. Especially when it comes to Charlie. She loved to make the two of you squirm, to tease, to torment, until you were both a mess. 

You like Charlie, maybe more than a friend should, but his obvious feelings for Kirby have stopped you from ever pursuing him as anything more than a friend. But Kirby knows something you don’t, that no matter how much she heckles or taunts Charlie, no one makes him squirm like you do. 

His logic isn’t half bad, feign interest in her so that you don’t suspect his feelings for you, but one thing the dweeb never considered is that you might reciprocate his feelings. It’d be cute how oblivious the two of you are if it wasn’t so pathetic. Both of you pining over the other, too afraid to make a move. 

“What are you doing tonight?” Kirby asks you, shutting your locker abruptly and startling you.

“Please stop doing that,” you groan, ever the unexpecting victim of Kirby’s jumpscares. 

“You know I can’t,” Kirby says, disregarding your request. “So, any special Friday night plans?” 

“I’m alone again this weekend, so probably just takeout and—” you begin to say, but Kirby interrupts you. 

“And a rager?” She suggests jokingly. 

“No,” you shoot down her idea quickly, even if she wasn’t being serious. “Charlie wants to come over to plan Stab-A-Thon and my sister left behind some werewolf trilogy so we’re probably gonna watch that,” you answer, bracing yourself for Kirby’s response. 

“Sounds like a hot date,” she says sarcastically, reveling in your involuntary embarrassed reactions.

“Shut up. Why are you asking?” You say, changing the subject. 

“Because Jill, Olivia, and I are going to a party and I thought I’d extend an invitation, but you have plans. So, invitation withdrawn,” she answers, a teasing lilt in her voice. 

“You’re just gonna end up watching guys fawn over Olivia and Jill spend the entire time on the couch with Trevor,” you tell her, knowing that inevitably she will show up at your house sometime after two in the morning, drunk off her ass and complaining about how lame the party was. 

“At least there’ll be some free booze. See you later!” Kirby says before walking away. 

It doesn’t take long for you and Charlie to plan Stab-A-Thon for the third year in a row, sharing Chinese takeout while going over location, equipment, and all the other small details of the club’s most notorious event. Pretty soon you’re both sprawled over your couch, dissecting the first movie that your sister described as a feminist cult classic, your legs resting comfortably over Charlie’s lap. 

“Honey! I’m home!” Kirby yells, interrupting the second movie, letting herself in with a copy of your house key that you gave her freshman year. “And I’m really drunk!”

“Is that Kirby?” Charlie asks when you pause the movie, confused. 

“Yeah, I guess she decided to bail on the party early,” you say, getting up to bring her to the den. 

“Ugh, you were right,” Kirby says when you meet her at your front door, struggling to take off her shoes. “Olivia left with some guy and Jill barely let go of Trevor’s arm. But I got this!” She says, kicking off her shoes and holding up a bottle of tequila. 

“I don’t think you need anymore of that, come on, I’ll get you some water,” you say, leading her to the living room. 

“Charlie! How’s the werewolf trilogy?” You hear Kirby ask while you go to the kitchen to get her water. 

“Basically a high-budget snuff film,” you catch the end of Charlie’s thoughts on the movie when you come back with a water bottle for Kirby. 

“Ooh, will it be brought up at the next club meeting?” Kirby asks, pulling your back to her chest when you join them on the couch, resting her chin over your shoulder. 

“Maybe,” Charlie says, taking a swig of the tequila Kirby must have given him while you were in the kitchen. 

“Drink some water, you need to sober up,” you tell Kirby, twisting in her hold to raise the now open water bottle to her lips. 

“And you need to loosen up,” Kirby says, drinking the water reluctantly. 

“Only if you drink some water,” you say, handing her the plastic bottle. 

“That’s my girl!” She cheers, drinking more water while you turn back around to face Charlie. 

Your fingers brush against Charlie’s when you take the tequila from him, lifting the heavy bottle to drink the unpleasant clear liquid. It burns as it goes down your throat, settling hot in your stomach, the heat seeping throughout your body. Your face scrunches at the bitter taste, and you already know Kirby’s gonna have something to say about that. 

“Aw, do you need a chaser?” She teases, wrapping her arms around your waist, empty water bottle dropped to the floor. 

“Something tells me you didn’t bring any,” you rasp, relinquishing the bottle back to Charlie. 

“It’s not so bad,” Charlie says after taking another drink.

“I’ve had better,” you say, nursing the bottle, keeping it away from Kirby as she playfully bites your shoulder. 

Without mixers, it’s not long before half the bottle is gone and you and Charlie are about equal to Kirby’s somewhat less intoxicated state. The movie is long forgotten, frozen at the end of the first act. The three of you are squished at one end of the couch, you’re slumped against Kirby, legs thrown over Charlie’s lap, listening to Kirby’s drunken rundown of the party she left and how she stole the bottle.

“Hold on, I gotta pee,” she says, pushing you off of her to run to the bathroom. 

“Sorry,” you say, hearing Charlie groan when you’re shoved onto his lap. 

“No, you’re fine,” he says, hoping you don’t realize the hard situation he’s in. 

“I don’t think we’re gonna finish the trilogy tonight,” you giggle, laying back where Kirby was seated. 

“Definitely not,” he says, hands nervously resting over your thighs.

“I’m back!” Kirby announces her return, and you sit up to let her return to her spot.

“That was fast,” you say, shifting halfway on Charlie’s lap, too distracted by Kirby to notice him throwing his head back, his hands just barely gripping your skin.

“God, you’re such a tease,” she says, pulling you off of his lap and towards her once she’s sat. 

“What do you mean?” You ask, relaxing into her hold.

“Look what you’re doing to him,” she says, redirecting your focus to Charlie. “He’s pitching a tent just from you crawling over him like a little minx.”

“That’s not—” he tries to deny it, face flushing from being called out, but Kirby cuts him off. 

“Are you gonna help him out with his problem or not?” She asks you, both you and Charlie shocked by her words. 

“D-Do you want me to help you?” You ask him, head fuzzy from the night’s turn of events.

“Yes,” Charlie answers, and as soon as the word leaves his lips Kirby is pushing you onto his lap. 

Your thighs straddle his hips, your hands finding purchase on his shoulders from being moved so abruptly. Looking between them, you’re unsure of what to do, but as your best friend, Kirby already knows of your lack of experience. She moves closer to the two of you, cupping your cheek and turning your head to face her. Leaning in, she presses her lips to yours, kissing you wantonly. You return the kiss, albeit a bit sloppily, lips parting when her tongue swipes at your bottom lip, licking into your mouth. She pulls away soon after, not wanting you to forget about Charlie.

“Kiss him like that,” she instructs you, turning your head back to face him. 

You lean in, goosebumps rising across your skin as a shiver tingles down your spine from his intent gaze, pupils dilated from lust and alcohol. Pressing your lips to his, you copy Kirby’s movements the best you can, kissing him sensuously. He kisses you back hungrily, as if he wished to devour you. When your tongue swipes at his bottom lip, he parts his lips just as you did for Kirby, and follows your lead as your tongue meets his. The makeout is messy, both of you new to the act, and Kirby takes the opportunity to move Charlie’s hands to your hips from where they rested on your thighs. 

“Move her however you like,” she whispers in his ear, giving him the go-ahead to grind you on his crotch. 

Charlie’s hands move your hips slowly, his own hips bucking up to meet yours as you whine into his mouth. He’s not quiet either, low moans escaping him at the lewd acts unfolding. Your nails scratch at the fabric of his flannel, supporting yourself with his shoulders as heat pools in your core. Despite the layers between the two of you, the friction is just enough for a wet patch to appear in your panties.

“Alright, calm down, greedy boy,” Kirby says, pulling you away from the kiss by your shoulders. “Wouldn’t want you finishing before the main event,” she teases, having heard the desperation in his voice as the two of you began to get lost in pleasure. 

“Be nice,” you tell her, the words slipping out without thought. 

“You want me to be nice?” She asks, her mouth stretching into a devious smile. “Come here,” she says, scooting to the edge of the couch, back to the armrest, where she sat when she first arrived. 

You make your way towards her, letting her flip you around to face Charlie when you get close, your back to her chest like before. Her fingers play with the hem of your top, soft lips brushing against your skin as she leans forward, whispering in your ear to lift your arms. You do as she says, arms rising above your head, and she pulls up your top, exposing you to Charlie. He’s watching attentively, you can feel his stare hardening when your bra comes into view, fabric lifting over your head and being thrown to the side. 

“Come closer, Charlie,” Kirby says, and he doesn’t need to be told twice, moving closer to the two of you, slotting himself between your legs. “Isn’t she pretty?” Kirby asks, fondling you over your bra, and your breath hitches from her actions. 

“Yes, she’s very pretty,” he says, voice low and airy. 

“Do you wanna play with her tits?” Kirby asks, pulling the cups of your bra down to expose your breasts. “Go ahead,” she says, when Charlie only responds with a nod.

His hands are surprisingly cold, a shock to your overheated skin. Kirby undoes your bra, sliding the straps down your shoulders and stripping you of the last garment on your upper body before placing her hands on top of Charlie’s. She guides his hands to be less gentle, and you watch through hooded lids as he lowers his head to your chest. 

His tongue flicks over your pert nipples, testing for your reaction, continuing when he hears your soft whines. Kirby pulls his hair back, giving you a better view as he mouths at your tits, licking and sucking your hardened buds, skin shining from his spit. She pulls him away from you harshly by his hair, holding him in place.

“If you wanna get your dick wet, you need to prep her,” Kirby says, letting go of him. “Take these off for her,” she instructs, snapping the waistband of your shorts and panties against you. 

You lift your hips so that he can pull your bottoms off, and he accidentally pulls you closer to him, your head sliding down to rest against Kirby’s stomach. She doesn’t say anything, watching him push your legs up to slide the last of your clothes off. You’ve got your thighs pressed together tightly, feeling vulnerable being the only one naked, but Kirby doesn’t allow that for long. She forces your legs apart, giving Charlie a clear view of your wet cunt. 

“This,” she says, one hand trailing down to spread your folds with two fingers. “Is her clit, play with it right and you both get a prize,” she continues, rubbing tight circles on the bud, making you mewl as your hips buck for more. “Be patient,” Kirby warns you, pulling her fingers away to hold your hips down, ignoring the whimper you let out from the loss of friction. 

Charlie’s fingers replace Kirby’s, messy circles leaving you breathless as you moan quietly. Eyes screwed shut in pleasure, you don’t see him moving down until his mouth meets your core. He licks a broad stripe from your hole to your clit, sucking the bud experimentally between his lips. You’re left keening from his actions, Kirby’s hands keeping your thighs from shutting around his head and hips rolling for more.

“Good boy,” Kirby coos from behind you, watching Charlie eat your pussy like a man starved. What he lacks in experience, he makes up for in enthusiasm. “Now stretch her hole with your fingers,” Kirby instructs, ignoring your hands gripping the wrist of her hand holding your hips down.

Charlie slides a finger in tentatively, stroking your walls gently. You’re a whiny mess, begging for more, sweet voice echoing through the room. He slips another finger in, your tight walls sucking him in greedily. His thick fingers prod deep inside you, massaging a spot that has your stomach twisting in pleasure.

“Charlie,” you moan his name, breathing heavy as he fucks you open with his fingers, face flushing in embarrassment when you hear your pussy squelching lewdly. 

“Is he making you feel good?” Kirby asks, and you nod quickly, thighs trembling as she holds your legs open. “Is he doing a good job?” She asks, enjoying the way you struggle to muster even a non-verbal response as you do your best to nod. “No, use your words, hon. Tell him how good he’s making you feel, how good of a job he’s doing,” she says, watching your glossy eyes meet Charlie’s. 

“Feels so good, Charlie,” you say between ragged breaths, mewling when he thrusts his fingers harder. “You’re doing such a good job!” You cry, ears ringing and gripping Kirby’s arm tighter as you begin to teeter over the edge. 

“Stop,” Kirby says, and you whine at the empty feeling when Charlie pulls his fingers out, your orgasm ruined. “Shh, don’t worry, love. You’ll get to come,” she reassures you, massaging your thighs. “Take your clothes off, Charlie,” she instructs him, and he wastes no time stripping. 

“I don’t have a condom,” he says, down to his boxers, slowly moving back to where he was between your legs.

“You don’t need one, you’re both virgins and she’s on the pill,” Kirby says, pushing him to sit back to cushion, moving you onto his lap. 

Your thighs shake when you straddle him this time, nothing separating the two of you now. His dick is pretty, pale with a pink, almost red, tip, shiny from leaking pre. He’s got a protruding vein on the underside, you lick your lips wishing you could trace it instead, a trimmed dark patch of curls trailing up. 

“Spit,” Kirby says, interrupting your thoughts, holding your hand up to your mouth. “Good girl,” she praises you when you let your saliva dribble into the palm of your hand. “You’re lucky,” Kirby says to you, wrapping your hand around Charlie’s dick. “To have such a pretty cock as your first,” she finishes, pumping your fist leisurely around him. 

The sight of Charlie is sinful, almost pornographic moans slipping past kiss-swollen lips. His hair is a little messy from Kirby’s rough handling, blue eyes glistening as he watches Kirby move your hand around him, hips desperately meeting yours for more. But Kirby reminds him who’s in charge, hand holding him in place just as she did you before stopping your movements altogether. 

“Now sit,” Kirby says, pulling your hips up and lining him up with your entrance.

Charlie’s hands hold onto your hips as you sink further down, thick head stretching your hole as you lower. It’s not as painful as so many of your friends had said when they told you about their first time, moreso uncomfortable as his shaft stretches you wider than his fingers prepared you for. Your mouth is open in a silent cry, gravity forcing you further down and it feels like you’re being split apart.

“Are you okay?” Charlie asks when you’re fully seated, hands kneading your hips comfortingly.

“Yeah,” you answer, getting used to the full feeling, gaze shifting to Kirby’s, a question in your eyes.

“Ride him,” Kirby says, hands on top of Charlie’s, guiding you up and down his cock. 

Your hands find themselves on his shoulders, stabilizing yourself as you’re bounced on his lap. You moan wantonly as the two of you move together, pleasure zinging through your bodies each time your hips slam down. Kirby removes her hands from Charlie’s, one instead softly tracing across your lower back as you lose yourself, trembling as he thrusts up to meet your movements. 

A string of expletives leave his mouth, a whispered groan as he no doubt nears his release. It’s cute, Kirby thinks, how desperate the two of you are to finish. You hide your face in the space where his neck meets his shoulder, hands tugging at his hair as your hips struggle to keep up with his punishing pace, moaning incoherently into his skin. 

But Kirby can’t have that, so she sneaks a hand between your bodies, rubbing frantic circles on your clit. Your whole body tenses up, taut like a string, biting into Charlie’s shoulder to muffle your wail as your release sprays against his stomach and thighs. He fucks you through it, despite your walls tightening to push him out, hips jerking as he pulls you down one last time, coming inside you.

Kirby is your best friend, but even in her drunken state she can recognize that maybe that’s not a good enough excuse for what she did tonight. Driving you into Charlie’s arms just because she doesn’t have the balls to admit she’s in love with you is somehow worse than Charlie’s misdirection strategy. But that’s a problem for hungover Kirby, she thinks.

[merwgue]

Okay, but can we talk about how Nesta is so autistic-coded and the Inner Circle is just... completely missing the memo? COMMING FROM AN AUTISTIC PERSON🥳

Look, I’m not saying Sarah J. Maas intended to write Nesta as autistic, but come on. You’ve got a character who struggles with social interactions, needs her own space to recharge, has intense, specific interests (ahem, reading), and who’s constantly being misunderstood by the people around her. If that doesn’t scream autistic-coded, I don’t know what does.

1. Social Interactions? Nope.

Nesta’s social skills (or lack thereof) are a big flag. She’s always being criticized for not fitting in, not behaving “the right way,” or not being all warm and fuzzy with everyone. Sound familiar? People on the autism spectrum often get labeled as “cold” or “aloof” when in reality, they just don’t vibe with the social expectations around them. And what do the Inner Circle do? They constantly expect her to be like them instead of trying to understand her on her terms.

Feyre’s over here like, “Nesta, why are you so difficult?” And Nesta’s probably thinking, “I literally just need some space from all you over-hugging, over-talking, too-much-energy people.” But instead of giving her the tools to communicate or cope better, they just drag her to a cabin in the woods. Sure, lock her up. That'll definitely fix everything.

2. Sensory Overload, Anyone?

Nesta’s reactions to stress and overstimulation are spot-on. The whole time she’s in the Night Court, it’s just noise, noise, noise. Between Feyre’s incessant meddling, Cassian’s loud warrior energy, and Rhysand being... well, Rhysand, it’s like Nesta’s surrounded by sensory overload. So what does she do? She shuts down. Classic move when the world is too much.

But does anyone ask, “Hey, maybe this isn't about her being rude, maybe she’s just overwhelmed?” Nope. Instead, it’s more like, “Nesta’s broken, let’s force her to train and socialize until she magically becomes like us!” Not how it works, guys. Not at all.

3. Obsessions Aren’t Just a “Phase”

Nesta’s love of reading could be seen as a deep special interest, which is a common autistic trait. And yet, what does the Inner Circle do? They act like it’s some sort of escape or avoidance mechanism rather than a source of comfort and grounding for her. Of course she’s going to retreat into books! They make sense, they don’t demand anything from her, and they’re not trying to change her every two seconds.

4. Bluntness? It’s Called Honesty.

Nesta’s “rudeness” is really just brutal honesty. She doesn’t sugarcoat things. And why should she? In her mind, it’s more logical to say things as they are. But the Inner Circle constantly misinterprets this as hostility or coldness. Why? Because they’re all about emotional theatrics, and they just don’t get someone who communicates in a more direct, matter-of-fact way.

5. Let’s Talk About the Whole “Locking Her Up” Thing

So, Rhysand’s big idea for dealing with Nesta is basically to isolate her in a house she doesn’t want to be in and force her to follow his "recovery" plan. Yeah, because forcing someone who is already struggling to conform to your idea of healing works so well. The whole thing feels like they’re punishing Nesta for not fitting their mold. It’s like, “Nesta, you’re not behaving the way we want you to, so we’re going to fix you.” Cue the eye roll.

What They Should’ve Done Instead:

Instead of forcing Nesta to be like them, maybe — just maybe — the Inner Circle should’ve, oh I don’t know, accepted her for who she is? Maybe they could’ve recognized that she doesn’t process the world the same way and that’s okay. Give her the space she needs, stop trying to mold her into their version of “normal,” and for the love of everything, stop treating her like she’s broken just because she’s different.

Maybe Nesta just needs some sensory breaks, a quiet space, and people who actually listen to what she needs. Instead, she gets dragged through the mud, labeled as a problem, and forced into a version of recovery that only works for everyone else.

So yeah, the Inner Circle missed the memo — and that memo was: Nesta’s not the problem; their complete lack of understanding is.

Ty @fenrysmoonbeamswife for the idea!!! I loved your posts pookster

[schrijverr]

I Didn’t Mean to Say I Do, but I Do. I Do. 38

Chapter 38 out of 50

Secret marriage of convenience buddie slow burn AU, where Buck and Eddie have been married for years so Buck could adopt Chris and no one at the 118 knows.

In this chapter, after talking to Maddie, Eddie needs to figure himself out. The choices he makes might not be the smartest thing, but Eddie is determined to be better. To do right by his family.

On AO3.

Ships: Buddie

Warnings: referenced emotionally abusive parents, internalized misogyny, internalized homophobia, insecurity, self-loathing

~~~

Chapter 38: No More Mistakes

Eddie looks at Maddie, probably mirroring her disbelieving expression. What does she mean that is not the story Buck is telling? It’s what happened. As much as Eddie wishes he’d been better, it’s just the plain truth. Most days he doesn’t even mind, because it brought him to where he is now, but he’s not deluding himself.

“Buck isn’t talking about you being a fuck up,” Maddie says. “You have to know him better than to think that after so long.”

“I do,” Eddie snaps, defensively, before he shrinks into himself. “I just also know what happened.”

“Well, the version I heard, the version Buck told me, is about a father, who cares so much for his kid, he’d do anything to see him grow up okay. A man who put aside himself over and over again to let in the help he needed so his son would never feel left alone or abandoned, even when that seemed impossible,” Maddie tells him. “I might not know you super well, but from what I’ve seen, that’s the more truthful version.”

“Oh…” Eddie replies dumbly, unsure of what to say as an onslaught of emotion overtakes him. He never considered that Buck might not think the same thing as Eddie does, as his parents do.

But now that he thinks about it, he knows he should have. Buck is much kinder to Eddie than he deserves, thinks him to be a much better person than he actually is. He’s always been in Eddie’s corner, whether he deserved it or not. Of course he wouldn’t tell the story of Eddie the Fuck Up.

Still, despite probably needing to have known better, he can’t help but be touched at the realization now. His throat closing up with emotion.

He immediately hates he’s such an emotional wreck over nothing. This is a good thing, a nice thing, he shouldn’t be acting like a baby. He needs to suck all this up and move on.

Oblivious to his inner turmoil, Maddie adds: “Buck is so grateful you gave him a chance to help you. To help Chris. He loves that kid to death and he’s so happy to get to be his dad. I tried, but our family was never a proper family, you gave him that. Don’t undersell that.”

Family.

They’re family.

Eddie gave Buck a family.

The thought feels a little fake and Eddie can’t help but want to turn away from it, while also wanting to wrap it around him. He did give Buck a family. Even if he feels like he dragged him down into his shit a lot of the time, he did give Buck a child, a partner. People to come home to every day, who have his back.

It’s something he was able to do for him. Eddie gave Buck the one thing he has always craved and he didn’t even realize. Never stood still by the fact.

Now that he knows, the thought makes him glad, because Buck has done so much for him, he is grateful that he has been able to do something back. That it’s not just him taking and taking while Buck only gives and gives.

However, that niggling voice in the back of his mind never shuts up, is now here to remind him that he shouldn’t have been giving another man a family, a child. Eddie Diaz is a man, he’s not supposed to be doing a woman’s job. It’s not normal and his parents were right to be unsupportive of his choices.

Logically, he knows that’s a bigoted and wild thing to think. If someone were to say that about Hen, he’d have a fist in their face before they could blink. But it’s not about Hen, is it? It’s about him. And it’s not okay when it’s him.

He’s not supposed to want this. He’s not supposed to have this. And he’s definitely not supposed to cling to this or feel good about it.

If Eddie were to do the right thing, he’d stay with Buck until he can work again, then divorce him, have an amicable split, slowly disentangle how they’ve become intertwined and make sure Chris can comfortably stay with both of them as they grow their own way. Still friendly, but no longer family.

Well, not-not family, but 118 kind of family, the extra kind of family, not the core family. He won’t lose Buck forever, he just won’t be the one who is there for him anymore.

Eddie shouldn’t get comfortable with being Buck’s family. So, he clears his throat and looks away, before saying: “Not his only family.”

“Maybe not, but he married you,” Maddie jokes, bumping Eddie with her shoulder as she grins.

The joke doesn’t land, even when he laughs weakly. Because even if Buck married him, it wasn’t because he loved Eddie, it had just been to help out, because he’s way nicer than Eddie deserves. He is even inside now, telling people that Eddie is a good person, a good father, even if Eddie keeps doing nothing to prove that.

“Want to go inside again? I bet Buck has busted out the photos of little Chris to show him off now that he can,” Maddie attempts to entice him.

Much like not wanting to hear the story, Eddie doesn’t want to see the photos either. He always loves reminiscing about Chris and how much he’s grown, even if his heart twinges at how many of those moments he missed. However, he doesn’t think seeing proud Buck showing off will be good for his heart.

“Nah, I’m okay out here,” he says with an unconvincing smile.

“Alright,” Maddie replies uncertainly. “But you can always join us, I’m sure you have some funny stories about Buck to tell too.”

“Thanks. I might,” he tells her, knowing he won’t.

With one last uncertain look, Maddie gets up and walks to the door. It’s unlocked, so she just opens it and disappears inside. The second she is gone, Eddie sags, some unplanned performance dissipating as if his strings are cut.

Angrily, he punches the porch, the wood rough under his knuckles. What is he doing out here? Hiding, is that it? Has it really come to that? Is he really hiding outside as to not have to watch Buck talk about them to people, who until yesterday, weren’t even talking to them? To him.

It’s supposed to be his celebration for getting his shield with Buck and Chris. After going out fighting with Bosko, he’d been feeling okay and it was going to be fun. They had their cupcakes and they’d probably watch a movie or something.

Instead the 118 has come back into their lives and Eddie should be glad – is glad – because Buck deserves to have that family. However, he’s also so angry, because they came in and Buck embraced them with open arms, Chris looks happy to have his new friends, and Eddie is out here by himself, angry at everything.

Angry at the 118, because they hurt Buck so much and they get to come back so easily, because Buck is too kind. Angry at himself, because he lets Buck be too kind to him too, even when he’s so fucked in the head he can’t even enjoy this good thing. Angry at Buck, because he made Eddie lo- he made Eddie dependent on him by being so good, even if he was never supposed to.

His nails are digging into his palms with how hard he’s forming fists. It’s starting to get dark and he knows he should go back in and join everyone again, but he can’t.

Eddie just sits there and boils and boils until he knows he’s going to implode again. He can’t implode again. Not like last time. Not where Chris and Buck could see. He’s not going to saddle them with that, not going to let them see this part of him.

Stiffly, he manages to drag himself off the porch, quietly slipping open the door and quickly snatching up the keys to his truck. No one has heard him, he thinks and he hurries to his truck and drives off before anyone can check on him.

He drives around aimlessly for a while, weaving through LA traffic as hatred burns for his fellow drivers. Even after two years here, he still hates driving in this city.

If Buck were here, he’d drive for you, his brain reminds him. His grip tightens on the wheel as he tells his brain to shut up. Buck is at home enjoying time with family and, besides, he’s still injured he can’t drive Eddie around. Even if he could, he shouldn’t have to. Eddie is a grown man, he can drive himself. He shouldn’t rely on Buck.

Still, the thought sours the distraction driving around had been. So, he starts driving toward something. Anything.

It’s not until he pulls up to the parking lot to see the set up he’d seen when he was here with Bosko, that he realizes his subconscious brought him to the fight club. To the one place that made him feel okay again in the mess that was his mind.

As he gets out of the car, he prays Bosko is not there. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to deal with her in this state.

Fortunately, she is nowhere to be seen. So Eddie just puts his name in with the organizer and hunches in on himself at the periphery of the crowd. He is radiating ‘don’t talk to me’-vibes, which are respected in this setting, so he lurks until his name is called out.

Stepping in the ring quiets his brain like nothing has been able to this day. He can’t afford to be distracted, to think of anything other than taking out all the anger and frustration and despair on his opponent.

In the ring, there is no reminding him of everything he learned to push down.

In the ring, there is no Buck haunting him.

In the ring, there is no family he won’t have

In the ring, he isn’t a disappointment.

He rains down punch after punch, dodging and grappling, taking the punishment, until his mind is blissfully quiet and they get separated. His hand is thrust up into the air. In the ring, Eddie isn’t a failure, but a winner.

It’s good to feel like a winner. Like he isn’t running from a family that isn’t going to last no matter how much he tries. Like he isn’t nineteen all over again, this time trying too hard instead of not enough. Like it’s not going to come falling apart when reality catches up with him again and his spouse presents him with the divorce papers.

Eddie can still win, can still have things. He isn’t destined to fail, no matter how much he tries, over and over again. He can do the right thing. He can win. He can win, dammit.

He sits in his car to escape the commotion of the fight now that he’s gotten what he came for. He feels okay again. Normal. Settled in his skin.

In the moment of clarity granted to him by the adrenaline release after the fight, he realizes that he has a responsibility that he needs to fulfill, no matter what might be necessary to do it.

Buck, right now, is injured, but he’s healing, likely to work, despite how bad it looked. He has the family that is the 118 back. Chris is healthy, in a good place with school, settled in a network of people there to take care of him, a part of which have children his age that he can play with.

They’re good. They’re taken care of emotionally. Eddie just has to maintain this status quo, whatever it takes. Man up and provide for them.

He has to bridge this period, the time it takes Buck to heal. He needs to make sure there is money to pay Carla, the school, any bills; that there is insurance to fall back on for Chris and Buck; that the family they have doesn’t wash away again.

If they get through that period in tact, Eddie has done his task, has provided for his family, been the man of the house. After that, Buck may leave, but Eddie won’t have ruined it all. He’d have proven himself to be what is expected of him and it will all be okay. He can push it all down again until he’s forgotten what this feels like.

The the two things, money and insurance, are easy, Eddie just needs to work as much as he can. He can sign up for a few more shifts, take some overtime. They have other people than Pepa, Carla and Maddie to drop in and check on them now. He doesn’t have to be home as much, he can just provide for them, make sure they have savings to make everything easier down the line, prevent anything like what happened to trip them up again.

However, the last part is harder. Eddie has never been good at keeping a family together, only good driving people away. Papi always kept leaving when he was young, his own mom often is against him, Shannon left, the 118 left. Sure, papi and the 118 came back, but it would always only be a matter of time before papi left once more.

Eddie has to make sure that won’t happen, at least not with the 118. The 118 is Buck’s family, the people that will catch him when Eddie will fail again, when they have to go their own ways, when they finally get around to divorcing.

He doesn’t know how to keep people close, just knows how to cling, like he tried clinging to Shannon and is now clinging to Buck.

Clinging to the 118 isn’t as easy as clinging to them. Shannon had been pressured into marrying him and Buck only agreed to it because it was convenient. It’s not as if Eddie can marry the entire 118 just to make sure they won’t leave Buck. Leave him.

‘Captain Nash has expressed great interest in getting you back aboard once Firefighter Daisy Smith can return to work.’

Of course.

Brandson had said Bobby wanted him back. When he first heard, Eddie had his doubts, because he was pissed at the 118. A part of him is still pissed now, because he knows Buck hurt and it’s his duty to carry the grudge. However, another part of him saw how happy Buck is to have them back.

And, he has just realized, he needs to keep them close for Buck. Working with them is a way to keep them close.

With that settled in his brain, his shoulders relax and a relieved smile finds its way onto his face. He is figuring this out. He’s not losing. This whole fighting business is good for him.

He gives himself a satisfied nod, then turns on the ignition, pulling out of the parking lot and back onto the road. To home.

When he comes home again, he is reminded of the fact that he ran out on his celebration by the lack of cars and the now turned on porch light. Apprehensively, he gets out of the car. Silently, he makes his way to the door, hoping he’ll be able to sneak in and postpone any fall out to next morning.

Naturally, luck isn’t on his side and Buck is waiting for him when he opens the door. Guiltily, Eddie says: “Uh, hey.”

“Hey?” Buck repeats incredulously, yet seething with anger. “I’ve been blowing up your phone for hours now, sick with worry. I was about to send out a search party for you. Where the fuck were you?”

“Out.” Eddie can’t manage more than that, the loose feeling from the fight leaving as the tension creeps back in.

“Out?”

“Yeah, out.”

“Out where?”

“Nowhere,” Eddie snaps defensively.

“Really? I’m supposed to buy you were nowhere? That you suddenly left – without saying anything, I might add – in the middle of your own celebration to go nowhere?”

Eddie remains silent. He doesn’t actually have a good excuse and his brain is working overtime to come up with one.

When he doesn’t say anything, Buck continues his barrage of words. “I thought you were with the kids, maybe playing or something. Then Maddie comes in, says you’re sitting on the front porch. I ask if everything’s okay, she says you just needed some space. Fine. I can give you space. Then when Bobby and Athena get ready to go, I find your car keys gone. You gone. Don’t you think you should have mentioned it before skipping out like that? What were you thinking?”

“Sorry, I didn’t know I had to tell you every little thing I do,” Eddie bites out. “I just needed to clear my head. Didn’t think you’d bite mine off for it.”

“You don’t have to tell me shit, Eddie, but maybe think of your fucking son,” Buck seethes. “He was very confused about where daddy was and why he didn’t say bye, before leaving. I had to tell him you wouldn’t want him to miss out on the sleepover to convince him to go. So, no, you don’t need to tell me every little thing, but get your head out of your ass.”

Eddie had totally forgotten about Chris’s sleepover with his new friends. He half thought he could sneak in a sleepy kiss on the forehead and sweep all this under the rug, but of course Chris would be upset about Eddie not saying bye and leaving. Eddie just resolved himself to get them through this period and he’s already fucking it up. “Oh…”

“Yeah, oh,” Buck says bitterly. “So, please, do tell what was so important that you needed to clear your head about it without saying.”

“I was thinking about Brandson’s offer. To join the 118 again.”

Buck pauses at that. Whatever he’d come up with, it clearly hadn’t been that and he apparently doesn’t know what to think of it. “That’s it?” he ends up asking.

Anger flairs up at the dismissal of what Eddie went through today, but the fight from earlier means he can ground himself in the bruising and not immediately snap. So, he takes a deep breath and lets it go. “Yes, Buck, that’s it. Unlike you, I’ll be starting with them again in two weeks if I say yes. I had to figure out if I trust them to have my back again after that.”

“Were you mad about inviting them here today? You could have said no, you know that right?” Buck says, anger making place for concern and worry.

While Eddie is glad Buck isn’t mad at him anymore, he didn’t want to make him worry either. It’s like every time he tries to do something right, he fucks it up in a different way. But he’s going to make it right, he has a plan. He can to this. He’s a winner.

“I know, Buck,” he says. “I wanted them here. It just got me thinking and I had to move. I wasn’t thinking and I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Sorry for jumping down your throat like that,” Buck replies bashfully. Again so forgiving. More forgiving than Eddie deserves.

Eddie gives him a lopsided smile: “I would be mad too, if you pulled that. Think it’s too late to call Chris?”

Buck glances over at the clock and says: “Yeah, probably, but a text won’t hurt. If he’s still awake, he might call you and otherwise he has it in the morning.”

“Yeah, makes sense,” Eddie nods, fishing his phone out of his pocket and quickly typing out a message to Chris about how sorry he is about not saying bye, that something came up, but that he’s going to come pick him up tomorrow and it’s all okay now. That he loves him and hopes he sleeps well.

When that’s done and he has put his phone away again, Buck asks: “Did you end up deciding anything? When you went to clear your head? About the 118, I mean.”

“Oh, yeah, I, uh- I’m gonna do it. I’m gonna say yes to the offer,” Eddie answers.

“That’s- that’s good. Right?”

“I think so,” Eddie says, resolved but still doubting it. He has no clue if it will actually go okay, but it will be the best choice for his family. That’s what counts. He can’t make another mistake like this again.

“It probably is. They’d be crazy not to be happy to have you back,” Buck says encouragingly. “As much as I love them, though, I’m beat. They talk a lot.”

He smiles tiredly and Eddie returns it. “Yeah, I get that.”

Buck turns to leave, then turns back, uncertainly asking: “Are we good?”

It’s so like Buck to ask that when it’s Eddie who screwed up. But he knows he won’t convince Buck of that and he’d prefer it if they could leave this in the past as fast as possible, so he just says: “Of course we’re good.”

At that, Buck smiles widely. Then he says: “Goodnight, Eddie.”

“Goodnight, Buck,” Eddie responds, standing there and watching as Buck disappears on his crutches into the bathroom.

He’s also beat and normally, he would join Buck in the bathroom so they can brush their teeth together, but lately that’s a habit that slipped through the cracks. It feels wrong to do so now, knowing what just went down between them.

So, instead he goes into the kitchen and checks his phone. No response from Chris. He doesn’t know how that makes him feel, but he knows he doesn’t like it.

To distract himself, he focuses on cleaning up the mess from the party that Buck likely left out to deal with tomorrow. Well, Eddie isn’t going to let him. He can’t make up for disappearing like that, but he can do this.

Eddie scrubs at the dishes, dries them and puts them away. He picks up the trash that’s still left about and throws that away, before taking the trash to the big bin outside. Then he wipes down the counters and the table, pushing in the chairs as he goes.

An unopened beer has been left behind and Eddie takes it. For a moment, he contemplates opening it, then shakes his head. Smarter not to.

When he goes to put the beer into the fridge, it is stacked with left overs in tupperware that he does not recognize as their own. The sight makes Eddie feel bittersweet; Buck will be in good hands when it is finally time to leave.

He sleeps fitfully that night, checking his phone every time he startles awake. Nothing comes in all night, but Chris is smiling when Eddie comes up the steps of the Wilson household to greet him when he comes to pick him up. “Hey, Superman. Have fun with Harry and Denny?”

“Yeah, it was loads of fun,” Chris smiles, before his face dims slightly. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, mijo,” Eddie says. “I’m sorry I didn’t say bye before I left yesterday, I should have.”

“Pinky promise it won’t happen again?” Chris asks holding up his pinky.

Eddie gives the digit a pained expression. “I wish I could, Chris, but you know daddy and papi sometimes have to leave on short notice to help people. I might not have time. I don’t want to pinky promise something I can’t keep. But I can give you a normal promise that I’ll try.”

Chris looks petulantly crestfallen at that and Eddie crosses his fingers it won’t become a tantrum, he’s trying to avoid having to talk to Hen, having only waved at Karen. Then, the upset expression leaves Chris’s face, getting replaced with a resignation. “Okay, but you really have to try.”

He can’t decide if the resignation is worse, but promises anyway: “I’ll try.”

It’s a promise he’s going to keep. He’s made a plan. It’s all going to be okay now. He’s not going to fuck this up. He’s not. Eddie can win. Chris maybe doesn’t feel it right now, but Eddie is going to make sure he’s okay. That it’s all going to be okay.

~~

A/N:

Oh, Eddie… This whole arc is just me wanting to smack him and hold him, like please be normal, but also who hurt you, lmao. I’m trying to capture his conflicting jojo-ing that has him going from being okay, to angry, to guilty and back again. He is trying very hard, he’s just reaching wrong conclusions

Also, I know we wanted Eddie with the 136 on the pier for the tsunami, sadly I have different angst planned for that arc, so alas </3

But what is exciting is that I can hereby welcome you all to the first chapter of the angst arc! :D I have referenced it in the comments sometimes, but now it is here and I am very excited about it. So, yes, any angst that has happened before now was not the angst arc, it can and will get worse! >:3

Also I genuinely thought it was Wednesday last upload lmao, that was not intentional, so it’s gonna be sticking to Wednesdays again from now on xp

[di-daynamic]

@hinnymicrofic May Day 18: Retirement

“Jamie, shhhh.” Teddy hissed.

“Al’s sitting on my hand! Don’t tell me to shush!” Jamie complained.

“Sorry!” Al got up hurriedly.

“Al! Get down! They’ll see us!” Teddy reprimanded. “Merlin, why can’t you two be like Lily? She isn’t murdering any chance of finding out what your parents are keeping secret.”

The scowling three boys and very smug little girl turned to the scene they were trying – very badly – to spy on.

Harry and Ginny Potter were talking to each other very intently, heads bent together. All four children burned to know what the conversation was about.

“I think Mummy’s saying something about flying carpets,” Al said, eyebrows scrunched together.

“Pooh!” James scorned. “Why would they talk about flying carpets just because you like them silly-billy-Ally?”

Al went red. Teddy said something sharply to James, who grudgingly muttered an apology. The next moment, groans and exclamations of disgust erupted.

“They’re kissing!” Teddy sighed.

“Do we have to watch this?” Jamie whined.  

“I think it’s sweet,” Lily said serenely. At further expressions of incredulity and displeasure, she gave them such a withering look that all three of her brothers shut up. “One day, I want a love like that.”

“We’ve been here ages and we still haven’t heard anything,” James began to complain after only a few seconds, because he was the very antithesis of silence.

“Well, we’re not wasting all the effort we put into making this—” Teddy waved a hand at the candle-lit table, “Date thing happen. We need to know what they’re hiding from us.”

“Just because they’re always whispering doesn’t mean it’s a secret,” Al said logically, in an effort to get back in the house where it was much more comfortable. “They’ll tell us soon. Probably.”

“I’m not taking ‘probably’,” James said, apparently on the other side now. “We have to know. We have a right to know!”

“Seems like your right to know has to be unavoidably delayed,” Lily’s high voice came, stumbling over a few words. “Cause mum and dad are going inside now.”

“WHAT?” Came the shriek of the distracted boys and they looked to see that, indeed, their parents were heading back to the house, hand-in-hand and laughing.

“Noooooo!” James collapsed to the ground in a very dramatic display.

Al howled. “Jamie! You’re on my legs! Get OFF!”

“I give up,” Teddy said, mournfully looking to the heavens. “I give up on everything.”  

Inside the house, Harry commented “I think they’ve given up,” to his wife.

Ginny laughed. “About time. I thought the boys at least would riot and leave when we started kissing.”

“As much as their attempts at espionage are entertaining,” Harry said, turning away from the window to smile softly at the sight of Ginny fidgeting with the flower crown he’d just made her. “We should tell them soon. Too much fuss for a little retirement, don’t you think?”

“A little retirement,” Ginny raised an eyebrow. “You’re not the one leaving your career of thirteen years, Potter.”

“Point taken,” Harry laughed.

“Besides, didn’t you enjoy their efforts at setting up a date for us so they could try to eavesdrop? And fail miserably, may I add.”

“Yeah, I feel sorry for them. Hermione said they came to her and Ron begging for all those candles and the dinner and the flowers. So much effort just to fail.” He shook his head, though he couldn’t stop smiling.

“They are getting more desperate,” Ginny conceded. “I’m surprised Lily and Al haven’t been able to convince their brothers to be more reasonable.”

“Getting overruled, I think,” Harry replied. “The other two are a lot older.”

“Fine, we should tell them. I just don’t know how they’re going to take that I’m no longer going to be the star chaser for the Harpies. They love following the team and getting seats to matches.” She sighed worriedly. “Hopefully they’ll buy the ‘reached peak athlete age’ excuse.”

“Hopefully. We don’t want to explain quidditch politics and what it did to you to them,” he agreed.

Ginny sighed again, looking out the window to their children who seemed to be still throwing their little tantrum. “Is it wrong that I’m a little relieved? I love quidditch, but I hated the League politics and the need to win.”

Harry pressed a kiss to her head. “Of course it isn’t wrong. You can find a more peaceful career, relax a bit before that. Especially after how you left.”

“Says the auror,” she teased. “So. Tell the kids tomorrow? They don’t seem to be coming inside any time soon.”

Harry kissed her, and found a matching grin to his. “Tomorrow. Till then. . .” He scooped her up in his arms and she laughed. “I have a few ideas of what we can do. Use this little date they so nicely set up for us, maybe.”

[eliotquillon]

meta ask: do you think cameron ever told chase about joe? how does he feel when even the angelic husband didn’t manage to keep her love?

anon this is crazy i was just about to ask people to send me more meta asks. our minds. where do you wanna hold the wedding.

jokes aside…HMM. the cynic in me wants to say no—obviously we only ever see her telling wilson this information, but iirc house never alludes to it either, and if he had known then he 100% would’ve made SOME kind of comment about (even if it was just to throw it in her face while he was detoxing, or say something to chase post-divorce about how things were doomed). foreman clearly doesn’t know either, because he tells her that cameron only ever got the honeymoon period and got to keep her first marriage on a pedestal. so this is clearly far, far more sensitive than the dead husband thing (which cameron does initially keep on lock, but is common enough knowledge by s3 for cameron’s homeless patient in 3x12 to overhear the nurses talking about it). and cameron sits on the sperm bomb until ridiculously late in the relationship, so it’s not like there isn’t precedent for her withholding information about her first marriage from chase, especially when it’s information that she suspects he won’t take well—and chase wouldn’t take this well imo, he has abandonment issues for days. i’m sure he’d be compassionate to her face about it, but it likely would plant a seed of concern internally. and cameron is someone who prides herself on having a good read on people; this is probably something she would herself predict. that said…

i want to believe the answer is yes, she did tell him. both because i am forever fighting for my life as a camchase ‘shipper’ (using this word loosely), but also because like…she told WILSON. it’s like when i was writing meta for time loop fic and mentioned that cameron tells wilson about the time loop before she tells chase and everyone in my notes was like ‘WHAT’ except this is way more serious and also canon (my writeup on wilson and cameron’s dynamic is another post for another day). but i think this was definitely something she told him LATE into the relationship. most likely just after they were married—possibly even as a result of him drawing away from her after dibala (she tries to be vulnerable with him as a way of encouraging him to tell her what’s going on). because this would add such a fascinating dimension to chase’s u-turn decision to dig his heels in and stay in princeton once he realises that cameron doesn’t really recognise what he’s done, doesn’t really forgive him for it because she doesn’t believe it’s his fault. if she could develop feelings for someone else during her first relationship with her perfect, dying husband, then surely the writing is on the wall for chase no matter what he does.

and obviously the KEY part of cameron’s disclosure is that she never acted on those feelings—you can’t control your feelings, wilson tells her, to which she responds, just your actions—that she never would’ve been able to live with herself if she’d done anything, but i think for chase the emotional aspect matters far more than the physical aspect anyway. it’s why he occasionally gets so caught on cameron having had past feelings for house; realistically, there’s nothing to be jealous of! they had the most chaste, trainwreck sham of a date in the world! house shut that shit down! but the emotional side of it was there, at least for cameron, and that’s what chase cares about. so again, while i think chase would be perfectly capable of having the logical response to cameron telling him—it was natural, he was a shoulder to cry on during the worst time of her life, her husband probably would’ve wanted her to have had some happiness—that definitely wouldn’t have been the ONLY thing he thought about it. ironically enough, i think he probably would’ve handled it better if she told him while they were just friends and way before anything happened between them, but i don’t think she ever would’ve done that.

anyway. i guess my copout answer to this is ‘i can see it either way’, but i lean towards ‘yes she told him, but NOT at a good time’ lol. they were together for three years, after all. i want chase to be normal about it but realistically…he would not have been.

[cavernfullofexistentialdread]

I swear to god i have put so much love and care into my characterization of the queens that I just have so much to spit about

WARNING!!! Long post ahead!!!

like here have a snippet for each queen: -Lina despite being so intimidating is genuinly terrified by Anne and Anna. She sees so much in them that is so opposite of her as person that whenever she sees Anna silent or Anne actually angry she just freezes in her tracks. Never tries to seriously hurt someone cuz she can never bring herself to -Anne has many faces. When shes casual shes just smiling and making people laugh (aka gremlin mode), when shes hanging out with the rest of the queens she sort of more teasing and aggressive (aka evil mode) but whenever someone looks away shes never smiling. When you look at her always got this cheerful expression or some shit eating grin but once everyone leaves she has this emotionless and subtly angry look on her. Sometimes she snaps and doesn’t restrain that to something personal and unseen. -Jane never really knows what to make out of anything moral wise. As much as she tries to be a beacon of kindness (due to some copious and (not)healthy amounts of ✨angst✨ and ✨regret✨) she feels sort of numb to it all because she could never understand whether she should be grateful or guilty of the fact that she never had to deal with Henrat’s wrath. This greatly affects her ability to effectively solve emotional problems without Cathy backing her up logic wise. Without her she would probably spend way too much time on simple things- -Anna really admires Anne for her sort of insane switch between goofy silly goober and rat bastard and a dime. She looks up to Lina for her commanding presence. She admires all her band mates for many different reasons but in a way she doesn’t really know her place. Anna doesn’t know what makes her stand out. Although she’s having quite a blast being a foil to Cathy’s “peaceful methods” of calming everyone down. Aka making fun of everyone’s arguments till they shut up (hence why she’s almost never silent). But of a loud mouth much. Especially for being such a chill person at heart. -Kat is sort of a collection freak and has anything and everything. Mainly books and dictionaries that have dope covers. The reason she’s so good at wordplay. Although then again in seems to run in the family—like all the cousins share traits, like their goofinesses or their golden retriever esc behaviors. But she can easily trick anyone into anything with a simple good placed sentence. Manipulation through puppy dog eyes and “uhm actually” moments are PRIME.(NO ANGST FOR HOWARD SHES BEEN THROUGH ENOUGH) -Cathy has absolutely NO charisma. Shes unconvincing. She’s SO cringe. She is a girlfailure at heart okay. Like suuuuure give her a little push and she’ll assemble an army. But cha gotta get through her “inspirational speech” (aka rambling) to get to there. Like even if what she’s saying is beautiful she CANNOT make it sound good she SUCKS at presentation at ALL TIMES. Also cares too much for too many reasons. Can solve any moral dilemma except her own. She becomes a blabbering mess if she does that (I WANT GIRLBOSS BUT ACTUALLY NERD CATHY. LOOK SHES TRYING HER BEST SHE’LL GET THERE EVENTUALLY IT MIGHT TAKE A BIT BUT IT WILL HAPPEN I will share more if I must

[runninguplenorahills]

I recently saw a twitter post on Pinterest that said:

“how much do we bet that Mike said he’s gonna get milkshakes at rink-o-mania and only got two?”

….. which is such a bad take 😭😭 like, that’s SO out of character, even while Mike puts on his fake act!

@xxcreamixx also pointed out that while Will doesn’t have a milkshake he actually got cotton candy so he probably just didn’t want one.

My guess on what happened there is that El is actually the one that wanted to get milkshakes because that’s the most logical scenario. Mike has never been in Lenora before and he simply did whatever El wanted to do, so I doubt that he’d be the one to suggest anything. El is also the one who actively excluded Will from the day (“I want today to be about you [Mike] and me.”) and basically threw Will under the bus by implying that she’s so cool she gets invited to parties at rink-o-mania while Will isn’t. And I’m not trying to drag El through the mud with this but if anything I kinda feel like she would’ve been the one to say she gets milkshakes only to return with two (girly was going through a lot, ok!). Though I don’t think anything like that happened anyway.

I think El told Mike that she needs a break and dragged him off the rink where they waited for Will which tbh, was probably Mike’s idea. Not to pretend like Mike was an angel that day because he was ridiculously far from it but it was pretty obvious that El intended to shut Will out while Mike did not. El had no issue at all with Will not engaging that much but Mike was very rather pathetically trying to get Will’s attention. In my opinion the awkward hug at the airport was more about himself than it was about Will and while Mike definitely did try to put some distance between them it’s pretty clear that he never intended to exclude Will in the way he ended up doing (again, since Mike is really doing some gymnastics in that scene to get Will’s attention, and justify why Will should’ve given it to him). Will was of course rightfully miserable and drained of all his energy that day and he acted appropriately for the way he felt. He wasn’t making any effort at all to include himself because from his perspective it was clear that Mike and El didn’t want him there. He was acting distant and annoyed and overall a little mopey (yes, Mike was right about that) so I’m pretty sure he didn’t show any enthusiasm about getting snacks either, which is very reasonable given the whole situation. Nonetheless, he still contributed to being left out with this self sabotaging behavior and ended up excluding himself. So I can definitely see how Will was self sabotaging/excluding himself again when it came to getting snacks, thus ordering the pre-packaged cotton candy so he could go ahead and find a seat while Mike and El still waited for their milkshakes. And when they’re all sitting in their booth no one is making an effort to include Will.

So in conclusion, I just think it’s curious how it’s once again rather clear that every single one of them had a hand in how rink-o-mania went down but people can’t stop putting all the blame on Mike. Especially here where it’s obvious that El was more actively involved in excluding Will. She obviously had a reason for it and we all know that while she intended to exclude Will she never actually wanted to hurt him, but she still clearly contributed a whole lot to Will getting excluded that day and it’s very tiring to see everyone brush over that and create out of character takes to somehow make Mike the overall bad guy. And that’s not to diminish that Mike was a jerk that day, he absolutely was, but he wasn’t the only one excluding Will and more than that it’s super obvious that Mike actually did not intend to not talk to Will at all (once again referring to the instances in which Mike is shown to make truly ridiculous attempts to get Will to communicate with him).

I once again just want to point out that I do not object to pointing out and admitting that Mike was acting like an ass that day. I don’t want to erase, nor hide that, because it’s true and important for the scene itself, but the situation is a little more nuanced and Mike’s motivations are a little more complicated and complex, and I just feel like takes like the two-milkshakes one from pinterest are only made by people who strongly dislike Mike and don’t acknowledge the complexity and nuance, simply because by reading the take it gets obvious that the person who made it has the surface level perception/understanding of “Mike is a jerk” and now assigns attributes and actions to him that emulate that, instead of trying to understand and dissect the character and situation and create takes in which Mike might still be acting like a jerk, but within the realm of what actually makes sense and fits his character. And in cases like that it’s not pointing out Mike’s actual mistakes anymore but making up mistakes and blowing things out of proportion for the sake of making Mike into something he’s not. And that has nothing to do with drawing attention to something that is canon, it’s just people wanting Mike to be mean and unlikable so bad that they push that onto the character regardless of wether it makes sense in canon.

[sassypainterangel]

some smut ig. one shots? idk

the way her teeth scraped my lip.. god that made me melt. and how close our hips were, and when she pushed her lips against mine and i pulled her forwards me and my back just.. arched so our thighs were touching. something in me switched the first time she made me wet, i think. just by putting her leg across mine. fuck.

when our legs were staggered, and her thigh was between my legs. fuck, that made me so wet. I could feel her erection on my thigh. her hips flush against mine, her thigh pressing against my center. holy shit, that felt good.

when i dropped my hand to the small of her back, pulling her impossibly closer, and she did the same. my heart skipped a beat.

The first time we kissed, we were laying on my twin bed facing each other. she said if she wanted to win over her crush with a kiss, she’d need some practice. Is she implying what i think she is? I ask her, “do you want to kiss me?” she says “maybe” and looks away. i can’t remember what happened between then and the kiss. her lips were on mine, and fuck. not the kisses i’ve had before. different. and so sexy.

At dinner, she’s shaking. nervous. she didn’t do anything wrong.

after dinner, we play two rounds of a game before the others leave us alone. movies are more fun, apparently. either way, i’m not complaining. We kissed again, first sitting down. and shit, when her teeth snag my lip i know i’m fuckin soaked. she asks, “could we try it standing up?” and yes. yes a million times over. Our bodies pressed up against each other. she pulls away. “are we making out?” “i dunno.” “do you want it to be?” “i bet a dictionary would be helpful for this.” so she looks it up. no, according to the dictionary we did not make out. we’re sitting again. I’m tired. i lay back, and she lays next to me. we kiss, and i am hardly halfawake. but that’s okay. then she goes to her room, and i fall asleep.

the next day, she forgets to take her anxiety medication. I insist that she take it. so we go back up to the condo, and once that problem is solved, we stand in the hall. “are we going down?” i ask. i hope she says, “i don’t want to” and we go to my bed. i want her to kiss me, be on top of me, be beneath me, i don’t really care. i want. but she doesn’t say that, and that doesn’t happen. not like i’m complaining, because we end up kissing anyway. she says, “since we might not get a minute to ourselves before you leave, uh, can we…” she trails off. “yes.” I step towards her, and we find a rhythm easily. I step closer, our bodies so close. Her thigh is between my legs, pressing against my center. and fuck, i’m wet. again. She steps forward too, and there’s not room for a playing card between us, let alone jesus. Now our legs are staggered, and i can feel her erection on my thigh. She pulls away, and my heart skips a beat. she’s so fucking sexy.

at the beach, i can tell she’s thinking about something. “Your taste. it was salty.” “probably because i was in the ocean, genius.” my heart flutters. she is thinking about how i taste.

later after we get back from the beach, right before we leave, we are sitting on the balcony. there are two doors to the balcony, one from the living area and the other from her bedroom. She goes around to the door on the inside, since it’s locked from the balcony. She opens it for me, and I slip inside, shutting the glass door behind me. I step close to her and whisper, “can I?” she agrees, and my lips are on hers. fuck. I’m wet, and needy as hell. I want to back her up so her knees hit the bed, and straddle her. i want her hands in my hair, under my shirt, on my hips. I want my lips on her neck, leaving marks. I want.

but there’s not enough time, and i have enough logical thinking left that i register the door to the living room from the bedroom is open. and i have to leave soon. and if i left marks, her family would pester her. and if my shirt came off, so might my other clothes.

i want.

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Vicarious (Part 10)

Azula frowns at the mirror; she still has his hair lopsided. She has been at this for at least a half an hour and she only has an hour more to get it right. And and hour more to figure out how to groom Sokka’s beard.

Between his horrendous handwriting and his somewhat unclear instructions she might be better off just going to the man himself and let him manage that part. 

She can at least get his hair done nicely. At least that is a display of an attempt. 

She picks up the hair tie and makes another attempt to get it right. It is, by far, better than all of her other attempts but it still isn’t perfect. And maybe for Sokka that is perfect. He doesn’t really seem like the type to care if a few strands of hair come out of the wolf tail. Pushing back all of her screaming instincts she steps away from the mirror. 

She just needs to go down to the living room and converse with Aang or Toph or anyone really. Reading a book would also do; anything that will keep her from dwelling on those misplaced strands of hair. 

She wanders her way down the hall.

“Hey, Sokka!” Toph greets.

“Toph.” 

“All ready for your date tonight?”

“Yes. I think so.”

Toph throws her head back and cackles. “I can tell that you aren’t! Your heart is beating like crazy.” Her expression grows more serious. “You’ll do fine, Sokka. Just make her laugh, you’re good at that.” She pauses. “I guess that Katara could give you better advice than I could. She knows what women like.”

“You don’t?”

“I know what I like!” She declares. “Which, apparently, is a lot different. Unless Jin is also into Earth Rumbles. But she strikes me as the candle lit dinner, walks through a blooming field kind of woman.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” Azula replies. She tries to think of the things that she would enjoy on a date. Decidedly, she also falls under the ‘a lot different’ category but in a much different way than Toph does. 

“You’re going to be fine. And if it doesn’t go well then you have us.” Toph smiles. 

“I can date you?”

Toph laughs again, louder this time. “Your humor is impeccable.”

“I like Earth Kingdom women.”

“Okay, maybe don’t say that to her.” Toph snorts. 

Her list of things not to do and say continues to grow, but no one ever seems to have advice on what to do. 

.oOo.

“I heard that she did it because she thinks that some spirit told her that she had to. Like a divine sacrifice that can only be done by someone with royal blood.”

“I heard that it was a dragon, not a spirit.” Mentions a second female voice.

Sokka hears the guards before he sees them. 

“I heard that she sees herself as some type of martyr.” Speaks a third guard. 

“Either way, she’s…she’s out of her mind. If you ask me, they shouldn’t have brought her back to the palace, she’s going to make the entirety of the Fire Nation look foolish.” 

“Quiet down, Admiral Chan, she might…”

“Hear me?” He looks Sokka directly in the eyes. “That girl set fire to my beach house and upset my son. I knew that she was insane before everyone else did. Had to keep my damn mouth shut though or I’d have to deal with she and her father.” 

“Didn’t she sleep with your son?” Asks the female guard. 

Admiral Chan sniffs. “From the sound of it, she wanted to. But my son has better sense than that. He knows a lunatic when he sees one. This one just so happens to wear a crown.”

Sokka feels his chest constricting. He wishes that he had some witty comeback but he doesn’t know what Azula would say, how she would react. He doesn’t even know how he would. He thinks that he might laugh it off, make some ridiculous joke at his own expense just to alleviate the tension. But that isn’t Azula’s style. 

By the time he decides that she would probably attack the holes in the logic of these rumors, the guards have already rounded the corner.

That he hadn’t said a thing in defense makes his face red and his eyes prickle. 

He finds it perplexing that he is affected so much by rumors that aren’t really even about him. Ones that he won’t have to worry about when he gets his own body back.

Somehow it feels like they are talking about him. 

Or maybe it is that he knows exactly why Azula is so inclined to keep to herself. Knowing that he has partaken in sharing the rumors that make him so uncomfortable now. It is so easy to gossip about her; she is a royal, she had a scandal, and, just to add intrigue, she shrouds herself in mystery.

Really it is quite simple; she is sad and she is hurt. She just wants peace. 

He hopes that she can at least have that while masquerading as him.  

Currently, he can’t cling to that hope. Not when she is approaching him with a razor and a demand; “help me fix your beard so that it doesn’t look stupid while I’m on your date.” 

She is just as stressed as ever. 

Perhaps more so. 

.oOo.

Jin is a pretty girl. 

In some ways she reminds Azula of TyLee. They are both bright eyed and happy-go-lucky. Maybe Jin isn’t quite as perky but she is certainly cheerful. 

Perhaps that is why Azula’s stomach is doing all kinds of flops and flutters. Why she is having trouble getting words out. She is out of her comfort zone on many different levels. She should have taken the woman to a play or a music event, anything but a dinner. If Sokka hadn’t already reserved a seat at the Crimson Imperial Candle, she very much would have picked a different date activity. 

Instead she is forced to endure the awkward and tense ambiance that overlays the elegant and romantic atmosphere that the eatery tries to coax. The fountains that cut all across the floor, dividing each table into a small and individual island are lit by dozens of candles hanging from the ceiling and floating in the water. Twinkling reflections and artfully positioned tiling make the water look like a sea of rippling gold. 

There is an option to eat while sitting on rugs and carefully arranged pillows but Sokka has chosen to reserve a table instead. Not that, that isn’t nice enough. The table is sprinkled with firelily petals and–likely per Sokka’s request–moonlily petals. 

There are other touches of Water Tribe influence in this arrangement such as a scatter of little wooden beads and paintings of wintery landscapes. Azula notes that he hadn’t requested any Earth Kingdom touches. 

From the look on her face, Azula is inclined to believe that Jin has pieced that much together as well. 

“Do you know what you’d like to eat?”

Jin speaks first, “why don’t you ask Sokka, since he wants to call all of the shots.” 

Azula grits her teeth. She is going to kill the man for putting her in this position. That dolt. That careless oaf! At least she can rest assured that she isn’t the only insensitive person around the palace. “I was actually going to let you pick the food tonight since I chose the decor.” 

“How thoughtful.” Although she smiles, there is anger twinkling in her eyes. “Sokka know how much I hate interior design and lo-ove the culinary arts.”

She makes a mental note that Jin wants to be an interior designer and cannot cook. If she had to guess, she would say that Jin is also a very picky eater. 

“Go on, Sokka, you know what I like to eat.”

Azula hadn’t seen a smile as forced as the one that the waiter makes since meeting Joo Dee. She clears her throat. “We’ll have the…” she tries to recall what dishes she had enjoyed while staying in the Earth Kingdom. She can really only recall one thing, “seared wild Kyoshi elephant koi.”

Jin rolls her eyes. As soon as the waiter is out of earshot she scoffs, “really, you think that some fancy gourmet meal is going to win me over? Do you even remember what my favorite food is? I remember yours; blubbered seal jerky. Your favorite color is indigo, your birthday is February 20th, you are really annoyed by singing nomads and singing gophers, you had a run in with a baby sabertooth mooselion, and you still sleep with this ratty old stuffed seal.”

Helpful information. But delivered most hostilely. 

“Do you even know a single thing about me?”

“I’d like to, why don’t you tell me about…”

“Because I. Have.”

“I’ll listen this time. I promise. Ask me to recount what you told me tomorrow and you’ll see.” 

Jin rises abruptly. “It’s a good thing that you have a big appetite, Sokka. Enjoy your elephant koi.”

Usually Azula can piece together exactly what she had said that had made a person turn away from her. This time…

This time she can’t understand it at all.

The woman didn’t even give her a chance to try.

Understanding dawns.

Jin didn’t give her a chance to try, but she had probably given Sokka many.

Even still, she can’t stop the tightening of her throat and the turning of her tummy. Now Sokka is going to destroy whatever she has left in life. He is going to ruin it much further beyond repair that it already had been. 

Perhaps she should try to win the woman back. If she can, he wouldn’t need to know. But no, there had been a finality in this breakup. She has a strong feeling that it isn’t the first break up. But it is the last. 

.oOo.

Sokka can’t say that he is surprised to see Azula home wearing a look of utter dismay. The way that she bites the inside of her cheek, the downcast of her eyes…

“It didn’t go well, did it?”

“She broke up with me…you. She broke up with you.”

Sokka sighs. “Yeah, I had a feeling that she would.”

“Because you think that I’m trying to ruin your life?”

“Because of me.” He mumbles. “I kind of gave you a task that I knew was doomed…”

“Then why? Why send me on that date at all?” She slaps her hands against her thighs.

He shrugs. “You’re smart and good with words, I thought that you might be able to do or say something that I wouldn’t have thought of.” 

“What would make you think that? All of the friends that I don’t have. All of the relationships that I managed to ruin? You picked the wrong person to fix your relationship troubles, Sokka.”

He flinches. He itches to say something, but once again he isn’t sure what to say. He isn’t certain because most all of him is inclined to agree with her; how could he expect her to fix a failing relationship when all of hers have crumbled, when she hasn’t exactly had success in forming new ones. “You’re not the wrong person. I know that you can make a few friends if…” 

“Don’t lie to me, Sokka.” She folds her arms across her chest. 

“I’m not lying. I think that you can make lots of friends. All you need to do is…”

“Change everything that I am to make people like yourself more comfortable around me?” She quirks a brow. 

“I didn’t…I wasn’t going to say that. You don’t make me uncomfortable.”

Azula rolls her eyes. “Please, Sokka. I know my own face and I know what it does when I am uncomfortable.” She takes a step closer and he takes a step back. And she laughs. “See! That’s all it takes. All I have to do is step towards you and you act like I’m going to set you on fire–set myself on fire to do it.”

Sokka swallows. “I–” He rakes his hand through his hairline. “You’re an intimidating person, okay. You just are.” He cringes at his own blunder. “And I know that you can…turn it off. I’ve had a few conversations with you that didn’t make me nervous.”

“Yes well, I’m not going to change my whole demeanor for  other people. Especially ones who won’t stick around when things get grim.” She turns her back on him. 

He groans. Why is she so hard to talk to? Why is he so bad at talking? Maybe if this body came with even a scrap of Azula’s eloquence maybe wouldn’t make a mess of every other conversation they have. Maybe if he had his own eloquence, that date wouldn’t have gone so poorly for Azula. 

“It wasn’t your fault.” He tries. 

She pauses and looks disinterestedly back at him. 

“I didn’t really know Jin.” He admits. And, Spirits, it hurts to say out loud. “I didn’t really try to get to know her.” 

Azula’s brows furrow. 

“She was like…I just kept picturing Suki and thinking about Suki. They are kind of similar.” 

“Pathetic, Sokka.” Azula scoffs. And with that she is gone, her footsteps echo from down the hall.

[empyrangel]

hey we have a headmate who formed because of how shittily people have treated us

she's a persecutor who hates humanity

when she sees people saying things like "alterhumans who hate humanity can fuck off/die/whatever horrible thing" she feels more justified in her hatred

she gets so enraged that she shuts down

any ideas on how we can help her

I want to preface this by saying I’m not a great person to go to for advice, I’m not used to giving it. Please take everything with a grain of salt.

That being said, we do have experience with feeling hatred towards entities, though not exclusively towards humans. What we usually do when we find those emotions bubbling up is remind ourselves that it’s illogical to judge an entire group based on our experiences with some of them. A small selection of a group of anything can never be representative of the whole. It doesn’t always work, but that’s just what we do.

Though, it seems to me that your alter is very emotion driven and probably wouldn’t respond to logical reasoning. In that case, maybe if you have any positive relationships with humans, you could try to emphasize those to your alter. Maybe go out of your way to spend more time with those humans so she can see examples of humans that aren’t shitty.

This seems to us like more of a plural issue than an alterhuman issue. I don’t have very extensive knowledge about plurality and systems, so I’d really recommend asking this to a system help blog, or some blog that would know a lot about systems that would be willing to help you. I wish you all the best!

[sarakielsbreath]

Journal entry timeeeee it’s gonna get heavy and it’s basically just one big vent. I’m pretending nobody is even following me tbh.

Shit fuckin sucks, man. I don’t even know what I should do anymore. I don’t think I’m like. Receiving dopamine? From anything? Or if I am I’m not feelin much of it. I know on a logical level that I am enjoying some things, but it’s tough when I’m not feeling anything while doing it. I just feel nothing and numb and miserable. No matter what I do, I feel awful and hate myself.

It’s to the point where life kinda doesn’t feel worth it. I genuinely want to die, I think. I’m not going to do anything to act on this, because I can’t. My dad’s already using suicide threats to manipulate my sister and I promised I would be there for her no matter what happened, and I can’t break that promise. Plus, she’s in a rough enough place herself that I don’t want to put her in danger by dying. So I’ve been doing my best to ignore that feeling and just keep going, and probably been developing some unhealthy dependencies and habits in the process.

I don’t know man. I’m just tired. I hate myself. I can’t see a future for myself where I’m happy and safe and secure. I genuinely can’t conceptualize the idea that people might enjoy my presence or like me. What is there to like? I’m kinda just an illusion of a person. There’s nothing really to me. Shine a light on me and I’m gone.

I wish therapy could help. I wish it WAS helping. Because right now I just kinda dread therapy. I don’t get anything out of it. Never really did. I hate talking out loud about my mental state with someone I don’t know. Sometimes when I try to say anything about it, even over text, I just shut down and I can’t even type to people properly, I have to find stupid fucking mental cheats like using memegenerator. I’m tired all the time, I’m anxious all the time, I dread getting out of bed, eating hasn’t been making me happy, and I hate myself even while high. It’s humiliating having to tell my family that I’m too depressed to take care of a dog properly. Thinking about applying for jobs scares me so bad I just shut down, even though I need one. I’ve been self harming again and almost put fucking bleach in my eye a few days ago. Though it’s not like I haven’t been thinking about that for years lol. Still thinking about it tbh! Though I’ve managed to not so far! I’m exhausted and upset and shaky and I hate this and I hate myself. I’m a stupid fucking ungrateful useless bitch with no real personality and I want someone to fucking shoot me.

[ladyintree]

it feels like they’re back to the usual — competing over something,  but this time,  it doesn’t feel like a competition she can win,  not when it seems like her feelings are the only ones still lingering  (  it’s hard to really believe that,  but every time mikayla pulls away,  she knows she can’t let herself keep falling to nothing.  )  she wants to be the person who cares less,  and it’s easier to pretend she is when mikayla isn’t in front of her,  flirting like this,  staring at her like that.  ❝  longer socks would help, ❞   she suggests,  deciding to be more logical now.   ❝  these weren't exactly the shoes i planned to wear with this dress,  ❞   she says,  looking down at her boots that she’s now grateful to have been wearing on the plane — and somehow,  this feels more comfortable to her than the alternative,  anyway.  she looks back over at mikayla,  thinking for a moment.  ❝  coach probably would’ve hated your dress. ❞  she hadn’t let herself think about coach martinez much at all,  can’t even imagine what it’d be like to have him here,  but on a day like today,  it’s hard not to think about the ones they’ve lost,  even if they only really knew three of them  (  so far.  )   ❝  kind’ve would’ve been funny, actually,  ❞   she admits with a small smile. 

tai rolls her eyes,  turning away slightly.  ❝  it’s fucking awful, actually, ❞   she argues,  and that’s mostly true,  anyway.  there’s a part of her that does love it and a part of her that feels miserable because of it.  her eyes shoot back at her as mikayla asks,  and she wonders if it’s a test,  but what’s the point in lying?  she takes a step closer — it’s not too big,  not trying to crowd her space,  but it’s more instinct than anything else.  ❝  yes,  ❞   she speaks softly,  her eyes meeting hers.  ❝  you came to me,  by the way,  ❞   she points out,  like she has to justify her own clear answer.  ❝ so i think you want me around, too.  ❞

she looks down,  boots digging into the wood beneath them as she shakes her head.  ❝  no,  you would’ve taken anyone else’s side just to make the wound sting a little more,  ❞   she insists,  and it would’ve bothered her even more.  maybe it was best she did go.  she raises a brow,  because what mikayla brings up is what tai barely remembers.  she doesn’t remember what was said about her or who she even talked to — but after a moment,  she does remember something,  laying in bed that night wondering if mikayla would have given into it all or not.  and maybe she did wonder what she would’ve said then too.  ❝  what,  you think i would’ve played her little game and fed your ego?  ❞   she asks,  crossing her arms over her chest,  acting like she won’t give in.  but it only takes her a moment to cave,  and she rolls her eyes again.    ❝  i—-  probably would have said  .  .  .  . ❞   she starts,  more seriously now.   ❝  that i like your confidence.  even when it’s annoying,  and you don’t know when to shut up,  ❞   she points out,  but she’s not saying it as an insult.  it’s endearing, even if maybe it shouldn’t be.  ❝  or—  how it’s  .  .  .   kind of cute the way you’re always playing with your hair,  ❞    she points out, because she was just doing it, and it was hard to ignore the way her heart skipped a beat.

she hopes she's far enough away that it's not obvious, the way her breathing shallows, her heart rate picking up. she has nobody to blame but herself, because she started it, because she went out of her way just to tease tai, walking past so many others just to ask her for help, because she wanted this. that doesn't mean she knows what to do with it, because the idea of actually giving up and giving in is still too daunting for her to fully go through with it. “ oh, yeah, just to be even. ” she repeats mockingly, because she can't keep going, her body already feeling like it's on fire, which feels like enough of a sign that she needs to slow down. “ probably not a good idea, though, so i guess i'll just be careful tonight. ”

she can definitely believe that, because the true is the same for her, too. mikayla's no longer able to tell herself that it's because tai annoys her, because she knows better than that—it's impossible to deny when she's spend every single night for the past month thinking about that kiss, because it didn't get it out of her system the way she hoped it would. it only made it worse, because sometimes, when she thinks about it too much, she can almost swear she can still feel tai on her lips, and it's not enough. “ maybe, don't act like you don't like me there. ” there are other, far more direct things she considered saying instead, but she has barely just enough control to bite those comments back, for now. “ i don't know. do you want me around? ” there's still a good chance she will avoid her, especially if she can't get her mind off what she really wants, but at the moment, she's not planning on it.

mikayla doesn't actually care about the specifics of what happened that night, because she's not really regretting leaving, especially when she knows how the night turned out. “ i told you i didn't blame you. ” that doesn't mean she wouldn't have still said something about it back then, she knows. “ i heard about jackie's team bonding shit, ” she scoffs, because it sounded ridiculous, but there's one thing she's wondered since then. “ what would you have said about me? ”

[fcntasmas-archive]

the darkness that soothes

5x17 coda // buck x eddie spoilers ahead, matey! haha. i’m sorry

--

There aren’t as many stars in Los Angeles as there are in El Paso.

Eddie’s always liked stars. Christopher’s love of space, Eddie likes to think, was born out of Eddie’s own fascination with it. Nighttime was Eddie’s favorite time of day – nighttime was when all the weight of responsibility left him, when he had no one to look after but himself, and only the stars to keep him company.

He misses the stargazing, he thinks. More than anything else in El Paso – alright, less than Abuela, sure, and he only says this because he’s still not entirely sure Abuela can’t read minds – he misses the stars, and he misses the company they kept him during the night.

It’s in the middle of stargazing that he gets a call from Buck, sometime around what should be eight his time. Eddie takes the call, because he never doesn’t.

“It’s ten o’clock here, Buckley,” he jokes immediately. “You know it’s past my bedtime.”

“Alright, old man,” Buck is quick to respond. “I don’t have time for your back-hurting jokes.”

Eddie frowns. “How did you know my back hurts right now?”

“I – did you lift something without bending your knees again?” Buck asks. “What am I saying, of course you did. You never lift with your knees, you’re like an emu.”

Eddie snorts. “What?”

“They don’t have kneecaps,” Buck replies off-handedly. “Eddie, I – something happened here, and I’m – I have no idea what to do, man.”

Eddie’s sitting up the second he hears the slight shift in Buck’s tone. It’s gone from unendingly fond to terrified, but it wouldn’t appear that way to anyone else but to Eddie, he doesn’t think. It’s a slight octave change, almost imperceptible, and yet Eddie’s heard it a thousand times over, enough so that he recognizes it instantly. “Okay,” he replies. “Go on.”

Buck launches into the story of Jonah Greenway and his serial killer tendencies, how he somehow kidnapped Hen and Chim, the perilous journey the two had gone through to take him down, and lastly, how he felt he may have had a hand in it all.

Eddie’s already back inside the house and looking for his suitcase when Buck brings this up. “What?”  

“I—” Buck huffs. “I convinced Hen and Chim to tell me with Taylor there, because I thought – I told them she wouldn’t tell, and now I think – Eddie, I think she might have said something,” he insists. “I think she might have tipped him off.”

Eddie is quiet for a second. Logically, he knows that’s probably not the case. Bobby probably reported Jonah as soon as Hen and Chim came to him with their suspicions – even if Bobby weren’t a worried paternal figure to everyone at the firehouse, his wife is a cop, who’d immediately suggest they report the asshole. Logically, he’s sure Taylor had little else to do with the whole thing other than having an immediate in when it all went down – having information no other reporter was going to have because of her relationship with Buck and his friends, and using it to her advantage. Not that it doesn’t feel – apathetic, of her, unethical, especially, but it probably wasn’t her who tipped Jonah off.

And yet—

A part of Eddie wants to be petty and add fuel to this fire. 

He’s not going to. That’d be crazy, and he thinks Buck’s had enough crazy for the night. And it’s not even something he can justify to himself. It’s a fleeting desire, one that has no rhyme or reason, so all he can do is chalk it up to spending too much time around his extended family and lock it inward.

(He’ll get to it later. Shut up.)

“This isn’t in any way your fault, Buck,” he promises, shoving clothes into his suitcase. They probably won’t be able to leave until the morning, since he doesn’t want to wake Christopher up, but it’ll still be a couple of days earlier than planned. He explains to Buck his logic behind this sentiment, then adds, “Taylor’s her own person. She makes her own decisions. Either way, whatever the truth is, whatever happened, it’ll be on her. Not you.”

There’s a silence at the other end of the line that Eddie allows to happen. Mostly because if he fills it with something, it’ll probably be something stupid and sentimental, something like—

“I miss you.”

Eddie has to make sure he didn’t accidentally say the words out loud, after all, and it’s only after a couple of seconds of this confusion that he realizes it wasn’t him. It was Buck.

He can’t help but smile. Just a little. “It’s been two days, Buck.”

“Yeah, and look what happened,” Buck insists. “I’m losing it, Eddie. I’m starting to think you and Christopher are the only reason I’m a whole person half the time.”

He says this so casually, like they’re not words that inject themselves into Eddie’s veins and feel like an adrenaline rush, but he can’t – he can’t allow himself to sit in the feeling. Less so in his parents’ house. That’s a whole other can of worms he will be touching at a later date.

“Well, then you’ll have to pick us up at the airport tomorrow,” Eddie decides to say. “I’m not sure about the time, but I’ll look at tickets in a few—”

“I thought—” Buck pauses, right after interrupting. “I thought you weren’t coming home until Sunday?”

Eddie raises an eyebrow, hoping Buck feels the energy of his expression, at the very least. “You think I’m just gonna stay here after all of that? No way,” he snorts. “We’re coming home.”

Another stretch of silence as Eddie continues to pack clothes messily into his suitcase. He may have to leave some things behind, considering there’s no way he’s going back and folding this. Sounds exhausting. Sounds like more time wasted.

“I’ll be there,” Buck finally says. “At the airport, I mean. Whenever. Doesn’t matter. Give me a time, I’ll be there for you two.”

Eddie’s smile turns crooked. “Yeah, I didn’t think you’d leave us stranded.”

“Never,” Buck replies, so earnestly Eddie almost bursts with it. “Is – did everything – your family?”

Eddie reads the question between the lines. He pauses. “Fine,” he replies, and it’s half-true. “I’ll tell you all about it later, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Buck replies, and his voice is quieter, softer. Eddie hears a small cry on the other end of the line, and he huffs a small laugh.

“Sounds like you’re being summoned,” he says, and Buck hums.

“Princess Jee awaits,” he admits. “I’ll – tomorrow, then. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Eddie nods, and he feels his heart settle into a rhythm not unlike a hummingbird’s. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Keep me updated, if anything – you know.”

“I know.”

“Give everyone my love.”

“Give it to them yourself,” Buck quips, and Eddie rolls his eyes.

“Bye, Buck.”

“Bye, Eddie.”

They hang up, and Eddie looks around his childhood bedroom, high school trophies lined up in every surface possible like prized possessions. 

Tomorrow, he’ll leave here again. Half-filled with pride, half-filled with peace. He’s got a longer road ahead of him, he knows, but the talk with his dad – it was a start. Tomorrow, he’ll leave the place he grew up in for a sunnier, drier heat, for people who run around with lettuces in cups and for a sky filled with a haze of light pollution that make stars at night a rare sight.

So. Yeah. 

There aren’t as many stars in Los Angeles as there are in El Paso.

But there’s no Evan Buckley in El Paso.

And that’s just something his hometown can’t compete with.