#well. here ya go

[try-set-me-on-fire]

Tagged by @devirnis for Fuck It Friday! I’m going to put this entirely under the cut because it’s more ER nurse Eddie au and is him telling Buck about being shot at work by a family member of a former patient who died, which is a classic medical drama trope but might be understandably upsetting. Anyway….. tagging @rewritetheending @shortsighted-owl @burins @rogerzsteven @ anyone else who wants to share!

"I got shot," Eddie says, and then shrugs a little because he hadn't quite meant to say it.

"You got shot?" One of Buck's hands flutters up for a moment, half reaching towards him. Eddie wonders if he has a girlfriend out there somewhere. Eddie wonders about his own girlfriend, out there, somewhere. “Who- what? Where?”

When, how, and sometimes why. Christopher just had this English lesson. “In the ER.” Buck’s wide eyes get wider. “Disgruntled…” Eddie sighs, runs a hand through his hair. “Former patient. Or- his brother died. Someone made a mistake. His brother died.”

Buck’s fingers tighten on the baby bag he’s carrying, and he flinches at the word brother. “Did you make the mistake?”

Eddie tilts his head. It’s not the question he was expecting. “No. I wasn’t even there the day it happened.”

“That’s…” Buck leans forward a little without seeming to realize. He’s frowning, forehead creased up and tugging his birthmark around. “It’s not fair.”

Eddie huffs out a breath that might be a laugh, which feels a little mean. For who? Eddie? The grieving man? The 22 year old brother who choked to death on his own vomit because a shift change and an influx of patients from a ten car pile up meant no one checked in on the drunk kid in bed 3 until it was too late? It was his birthday. He’d been out celebrating. He’d never get to celebrate another one, and his brother who’s eyes had been cracked open and raw as he’d held the gun is dead now too, and Eddie has an old scar on his left shoulder and a new one on his right and he can’t walk through the ER without his hands shaking. It’s not fucking fair.

"The world's a bad place, Evan,” he says to a man going to visit a new baby who’s just been brought into it. Eddie’s pretty sure the miserable look on Buck’s face is just a reflection of his own.

“It’s Buck,” Buck says.

“Right.”

Eddie should… leave, he should continue his rounds, he shouldn’t be having this conversation. Not with this person, anyway. Ana, his tia and abuela, his therapist - all of them have been trying to get him to talk about it, but it’s too big and sad and awful and if he drags it outside of the hospital walls it will stain his entire life and he’ll never get the spots out. But he’s… the stains are there already, he’s coming to understand. Christopher looked at him this morning, after Eddie had spent the night dragging himself out of nightmare after nightmare, and there it was in his expression. Eddie doesn’t know what to do to fix it. Eddie doesn’t know how to fix any of it.

And then Buck says “I wish I’d been there.”

It knocks the wind out of Eddie for a moment. He pictures it, Buck standing there splattered in blood, crimson smeared all over his face and obscuring his birthmark, making him look like some entirely different person. A shudder runs up his spine. “I’m glad you weren’t.”

“Eddie-“

“Buckaroo!” A short man walks out of one of the rooms, eyes tired and so full of joy. “We’re not allowed visitors, what are you doing here? Is that- where’s Albert?”

Eddie leaves. He walks away, leaves them to it, but when he looks back from the nursing station Buck’s expression is so regretful and sad he has a moment where he wants nothing more than to be there at his side.

But he reminds himself that the man is a stranger, and Eddie has work to do.

[tvguts]

i love working in elementary schools because it allows me brief yet insightful glimpses of what truly motivates and inspires america's youth

[tizeline]

Oh? What's that? Ya'll want the next part of TSAU's story? Well fuck you you're getting this fucking thing instead.

[applestruda]

is there any way to get like a ,,,, combo of those individual hg and cg pictures im so sad i have to choose between them for my banner *explodes*

Here's them combined

[dirtgrubber]

“They’re… what are they doing? Is that Alastor, holding flowers?”

another banger of a chapter from “Of Saints and Sinners” by the amazing @morningstarwrites

[jadewritesficshere]

Thinking about Eddie Munson who was complaining to the rest of the band about his shoulders and neck hurting post show. One of them convinces him to go for a massage.

Eddie shows up day of and is told to strip to level of comfort and get under the sheets laying on his back, his masseuse will knock before coming in. Eddie has not an ounce of care or shame, strips completely naked. Scars and tattoos on full display. He climbs between the sheets and waits. After knocking and hearing a "come in", his masseuse enters and-

The most handsome man he's ever seen walks in. A bit of stubble on his defined jaw, soft pale lips Eddie wants to kiss, big brown eyes Eddie wants to get lost in, slutty little waist and an ass Eddie could-

He introduces himself as Steve. Verifies where Eddie had said his tension was on the form he hastily filled out. Then it starts.

And maybe, maybe, Eddie is a bit touch starved. He could have anyone he wants, but they don't want him just his fame. Pushes them all away. Only gets close to his band, but they all are busy and have their own people outside of work.

And Steve is just touching him. Rubbing smooth circles into his temple, down his cheekbones towards his jaw. Pressing on parts of Eddie's face he didn't even realize were tense. It's relaxing.

And Eddie regrets not leaving at least his boxers on to help hide that he's becoming hard. Kind of embarrassing, which makes his dick harder- which, that's a lot to unpack right now-

"Hey, relax man," Steve says, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder. Eddie can see Steve's eyes dart towards the obvious situation," It's natural. Happens to the best of us." "Does it happen to you?" Eddie blurts out. Eddie wants to shove his face in one of these soft plush pillows and scream, but Steve just snorts a laugh and shakes his head at him. Doesn't even respond as he continues the massage.

Eddie tries to hold back his groans as Steve turns his head to the side and rubs his neck into his shoulders. He can feel the tension leave his body slowly. Feel the knots in his muscles release.

Eddie can't, however, hold back the noise he makes when Steve grabs a hold of his hair and tugs it. Eddie's eyes pop open and he stares into Steve's face, who has started blushing. Steve just clears his throat and let's Eddie's hair go before continuing the massage.

[rocketbirdie]

waiting out the rain

[sh309]

Tmc Alternate universe where the cat was real

[jarchaeology]

[sanctus-ingenium]

happy halloween from our family to yours

[ajwalkerartblog]

I need more scenes of them just dancing please and thank you

[tvguts]

i leave my plastic spoon in the mug when i microwave my coffee because i like the extra carcinogens :)

[itsahotminuteinbetween]

[There's just a twinkle in your eye That seems to say I might , if I Were only bold enough to try An arm about your waist. I hear, too, as you come and go, That pretty nervous laugh, you know; And then your cap is always so Coquettishly displaced.]

-excerpt from 'Ne Sit Ancillae Tibi Amor Pudori' by Robert Louis Stevenson

a little solruin doodle comic for the @ask-the-roommate-au boys by @sunny-inajar that's been sitting in my brain for a little while-I was reading through some poetry and this seemed to fit their docket, so I went ahead and drew them.

[losticaruss]

chronicles of narnia: prince caspian will forever be a tragedy to me, especially in the way the movie presents it. it opens with peter, desperate to return to the respect he deserves (or thinks he deserves), a fully grown man trapped in this child's, this stranger's body, still adjusting to the life he'd long since forgotten. he gets into a fight because it's natural to him. don't they realize who is he is? not selfishly (a little bit selfishly) he expects people, his siblings, the crowd, to be with him in battle. it's another battle to him, and edmund, lovely edmund, young edmund, edmund who was 12 and on the verge of death, edmund who loves his siblings the most one could ever love your own blood, is in the fray with him, and they fall back into the rhythm they were used to back home- back in narnia, and lucy and susan are screaming at them to stop, and edmund and peter see the soldiers coming home from war, and all they wants is to go back with them, and they understand how these soldiers feel, shell-shocked and distant and they want to fall into line with them, but they're kids and they're fighting other kids, they're not undisciplined, they're unadjusted. nothing changed but so did everything.

and they hop on the train and none of the pevensies want to talk about what happened and they end back in narnia and they're finally back in narnia they're home on the beaches of their home and it's a joy so grand that there's nothing they can do but go back to being kids- again, and they find cair paraval, and everything's gone- and the chessboard that edmund loved, the chessboard he played on when he first beat peter, is gone, there's nothing left of it, and they fall through the ruins like ghosts. here's the dining hall, the ballroom. remember this, lu? it used to be your bed. do you remember when you were so homesick you begged me to stay with you until you fell asleep? do you remember the way the garden bloomed in the spring? and they fall naturally in step into the dais, empty, not even the familiar sound of their shoes clacking against the polished floor. everything's gone now, of course it is. they knew how time worked in narnia, but it didn't happen to them. how could it move on without them? and they make their way into the lower floors, peter naturally falls into the trait of the leader, hes the first to forget the world they came from, but edmund, clever edmund, desperate edmund, brings a torch. he doesn't say how he packed it in his bag every day, how he packed it and prayed that they'd return. and everything is still there, in that room. nothing prepares you for seeing statues of your face- not your face, but what will be your face, what used to be your face- cracked and covered in moss. their crowns are there. everything is there. peters sword returns to his side, and it's the first time he looks complete since they left narnia. and they adventure- how much had changed? the trees are so much taller. how long now had they been gone? it was natural for narnia to have moved on, but they were meant to move on with them. peter tries to bring his siblings through his usual shortcuts, through an overpass, far from the well-trod paths that had cropped up since theyd been gone. he can't have been abandoned by his home, not so soon.

but he was. and there's a kid here, claiming to be the new ruler of narnia. who is he? he looks so young, and susan is looking at him and he's... looking back? and the civilians are looking at this stranger, this kid, like he's supposed to know what to do. had he even fought a battle? he rubs his beard- and is blocked by the bare skin of his chin (of course it's not there. he forgot.) and peter wants to be the bigger person, he's the high king, that's how it should be. but there are all these emotions he hadn't felt before- he thought, not in narnia at least. and he doesn't want to be the bigger person, he finds. stop looking at him like he should know what to do! he stands up to take over- his people forgot about him. he left and they forgot. and he sizes up this child as he speaks- high king peter of narnia, he says. the magnificent. and there it is, he thinks. the familiar look, shock, awe and- confusion? that's a new one- but not incorrect, as he realizes his situation.

he wants to be recognized how he used to be. the pevensies have returned to what they were, the warrior, the archer, the diplomat, the healer. and this new one, the one who wanted to be all four at once so desperately it made ed look wise. and finally- finally he gets his chance to shine, where he belongs, on the field, against The Enemy. of course, not how he'd like it, not in broad daylight, sword and armor gleaming, but it was the smart move. and he's filled with these emotions- not dread, or worry (maybe a little worry), but excitement, and everything is pounding in his head and the adrenaline- he forgot how good it feels- and he leads the army, his army. he's the warrior, the high king, and for a night, the people remember, they remember the golden age. and ed is brilliant, and peter can't help but grin with glee as he sees him pull of a maneuver that pete knows took months of training.

and then the hoards come and they're losing- they can't be losing, this was his chance! he's right, he's the king this was his chance to show them. and he cries for a retreat but it's too late- he was a fool, he watches his army, the army who trusted him, he watched them be slaughtered against the gates that had sealed their fate. he watched the blood spray and stain the metal, oozing between the stone bricks and he just stares. and it's all he can do and he wants- what does he want? to say he's sorry? to save them?

no- no, nothing like that. he should be in there with them. he should be gutted like the rest of them (a hero's death, not this cowards life). he went in too fast, too proud, he knows that. but to have these innocents follow him in willingly, blindly, and he's the one to make it out? it's unforgivable.

and then he's given another chance. a fight- a duel, to the death. he leaves the arena a victor, or he dies a martyr, and everyone forgets his sins of the night of the ambush. and he fights the best he can, he loses his helmet, he's injured and he can hear death whistling it's grim tune, and he almost doesn't pick up his sword, and he sees edmund, lovely edmund, young edmund, with hope in his eyes- with faith in his eyes, and peter knows, he certainly doesn't deserve the life he's been longing for, but he picks up his sword because his little brother, his little brother who almost died, whom he loves with all his heart and so much more. and he accepts it. he realizes he won't get it back, his golden age, but he can fight for edmund, for narnia. and he fights. he fights and he fights and he fights.

and when it's over he breaths the sweet narnian air, and he clasps the hand of caspian, another brother, not a blood one, nor a narnian one, but one of a deeper connection, deeper than any love, and he sees susan smiling. the pevensies and caspian are celebrated like kings, and the pevensies help caspian, still a child, overwhelmed with all this love, they guide him through it, preparing for the many days in the future when parades and celebrations fill the streets, and the people adore their rulers- their king.

it's their last time, he tells the others. once they leave, him and susan can't return. there's more on the other side, the other world, another way to return to narnia, to Aslan, and he doesn't share the fear in his heart. another way, but not this way. not through his home, where he's surrounded by it, drenched in it. not the same not the same, never the same again. they could stay, of course, says a foolish side of him. but not, they couldn't, it's stupid to say so. his mother- had he forgotten his mother so soon? she would go mad with loss. his golden age, it's come and past, and narnia moved on without him, and he steps through to the train station, not to his home, (no. he can never go home again.) and susan follows him, and she grasps his hand, a look shared between the two of them that she understands. and peter, one last chance to be the bigger person, he sees her loss and he squeezes her hand back. edmund and lucy they think they understand, and they grasp their elder siblings hands, and it's comforting, but peter and susan know, they know they won't understand, not until it's their turn, they won't know how empty it is, how lonely it is in this world.

so yeah. it's a tragedy

[pondhue]

[buglaur]

simself college fits