#i'm plotting a fic about it. in fact

[lucat13]

the other day, bee and i watched a very weird production of assassins which had some really bad choices (including one that led to me taking a candid picture of bee with her head all the way into her hands, looking so disappointed) but also some really good choices. including middle schooler balladeer reading out of a history textbook, which hasn't left my mind since

[anghraine]

It's well past midnight but I felt like doing another piece of the femslash Spirk AU for WIP Wednesday (surprising no one) and what came out was ... T'Pring POV? This is, of course, set in the direct aftermath of S'paak's pon farr (as sketched out here, but the AU version of "Amok Time"):

As a girl, T’Pring had harbored an irrational, and thus regrettable, envy of t’sai S’paak. She had resented S’paak’s status as the daughter of Sarek and her superior performance on certain mathematical examinations given in childhood, when S’paak was but half a Vulcan. In a little time, of course, T’Pring overcame such childish emotions, and thirty years later, saw S’paak only as an obstacle to her own desires. The death of the Starfleet captain sufficed well enough for her plans—indeed, she had considered this the most likely eventuality. The body of the captain and the doctor were transported to the ship, and S’paak, clearly rational once more, walked over to speak to T’Pau and Stonn—mainly T’Pau. T’Pring could not hear from where she stood, but Stonn did not communicate any failures of their plan to her. Before she could think further on any of it, S’paak strode directly over to T’Pring herself, perhaps due to information received from Stonn or T’Pau, or perhaps no more than her own deductions. It would not take great acuity of observation to recognize T’Pring’s hand in the proceedings, after all: certainly less than S’paak had always possessed. T’Pring was not afraid. She lifted her head and met S’paak’s eyes, both of them smooth-faced and unflinching. Whatever human qualities S’paak might have inherited from her mother were nowhere in evidence. “T’Pring,” said S’paak, “I am wondering why you sought my death, or that of my captain.”

Her voice was appropriately unwavering.

“Stonn wanted me,” T’Pring replied, “and I wanted him.”

S’paak considered her in much the fashion that T’Pring had, long ago, seen her consider unexpected behaviors from a rare insect. “I see no logic in this.”

That did not surprise T’Pring. There was a logic to desire, but few understood it, and from all she had seen of Sarek’s daughter over the years, she suspected that S’paak understood it less than most.

“You have become much known among our people, S’paak—almost a legend,” T’Pring said calmly. “Stonn had come to know that he did not wish to be consort to a legend, and I desired him as mine. You have conducted yourself such that he had no basis for divorce except the kal-if-fee.”

S’paak studied her with little change, except that she locked her hands behind her back in the usual fashion of Starfleet officers. Despite the impracticalities of dress imposed on the women of Starfleet, and despite S’paak’s specialization in the sciences, T’Pring found her demeanor distinctly martial. She was not certain if this should be considered a failure on S’paak’s part, or further proof of success.

“Stonn is your inferior in reason, forethought, and most areas of expertise,” S’paak remarked. “It is clear to me that this endeavor must have been planned by you, rather than him, but not why you would bear so much inconvenience for nothing more than him.”

T’Pring was not susceptible to flattery, but she did not object to the respect she was due. She inclined her head.

“Yes, it was I who told him what he must do,” she said. “I do not desire him for his skill at logic, though it is adequate. I find his face and form pleasing. He accommodates my preferences in the ways I wish, rather than the ways that others wish for me. Also, freed from his betrothal to you, his property and name would be his to give once more, and they are suitable to my standing among our people. I found these reasons persuasive, and the proximity of your and his pon farr made the best approach obvious to me.”

“Is that so?” said S’paak, looking down at T’Pring with no further movement than the necessary motions for speech and observation. Her face looked paler than usual, but the light had shifted enough that this could be no more than a subjective impression.

T’Pring nodded. “I judged that if your captain had been the victor,” she explained, “she would not want Stonn nor make an acceptable match for him. He would be free, and so I would have him. If you were the victor, you would free him over the insult of the challenge and such a choice of champion, and again, I would have Stonn. Even if you had not freed him, all evidence indicated that you would be gone in your Federation vessel as soon as your pon farr had passed, and remain absent for another seven years, while Stonn would be here.”

She did not think she needed to elaborate further, though S’paak’s pause was just long enough that T’Pring considered the possibility of misjudgment.

“Logical,” said S’paak. “Flawlessly logical.”

“I am honored,” T’Pring said, and meant it.

S’paak glanced over at Stonn, who still spoke with T’Pau, the very slight rise and fall of his words decorous enough, if not equal to the self-command of T’Pau or T’Pring, or S’paak. She did not seem impressed, but then, she did not seem anything.

“We should join T’Pau,” S’paak told her, “in order to finalize these desired arrangements. I am, for a time, commanding officer of the Enterprise, and must depart soon.”

T’Pring assented, and followed S’paak’s longer stride across the rock and sand to where T’Pau sat in state. Stonn glanced quickly at them both, not visibly anxious, but betraying himself nevertheless. The law of Surak, however, made allowances for extraordinary situations, so T’Pring did not disapprove greatly. She made the customary courtesies to T’Pau and waited for the fruition of her plans.

“Stonn, you are free,” said S’paak. She turned to T’Pring. “He is not your equal, but he is yours. After a time, however, you may find that having is not so pleasing a thing as wanting. It is not logical, but it is often true.” Before T’Pring, or anyone, could reply, S’paak flipped open her communicator and said more briskly, “S’paak here. Stand by to beam up.”

T’Pring did not wish to show relief, least of all before S’paak was gone. She waited, and Stonn, less patient but more pliant, waited with her. 

S’paak turned towards T’Pau and she held up her hand.

“Live long, T’Pau, and prosper,” she said.

T’Pau returned the ta’al, steady despite her age. “Live long and prosper, S’paak.”

Without warning, S’paak’s hand dropped to her side. She shook her head.

“I shall do neither,” said S’paak. Her voice did not waver, but the angular planes of her face were harder than T’Pring had ever noticed before. “I have killed my captain and my friend. Energize.”

With that, she was gone.

[ragnarokhound]

Hi wife! Thinking about you. Should we buy a hot tub? Or a sauna? Or both?

Also thinking about the werewolf fic. I would be delighted if there was full werewolf smut in the werewolf fic👀👀 When will my wife (you) return from the war (writing the werewolf fic)?

Also thinking about the hilarity of tim hearing jason talk about his “time of the month” and ofc assuming it’s about Jason being trans when jason is talking about wolfing out. Picture:

Tim: “-and I brought chocolate-“

Jason: “Are you trying to kill me? canines can’t have chocolate!”

after some confusion they clarify things (jason is trans, not a big deal, he’s a werewolf, also not a big deal). Then (important for plot and character development) they have dirty dirty werewolf sex :)

Hehehe hello darling, you are always near my thoughts <3 And ohhh I could use a dip in a hot tub, especially now that winter has come to my climes >.< Though I fear a sauna would never see its use with me, haha

I am ALSO thinking about werewolf fic. Nigh constantly these days. I am deep in the trenches. I am furiously pondering how to reconcile the idea I had sketched most of the bones of almost an entire year ago with what I think and like now. It's been a bit of a battle. One I am fighting... tooth and claw you might say ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿ (badum tsh)

Alas, while I don't want to give too much away, I feel I must warn you that the kind of werewolf Jason is in werewolf fic is more in line with 'that's just a wild animal' and less 'monsterfucker furry.' So while we'll see some very animalistic behaviors from Jason (what with the scenting and the licking and the biting and the growling etc) and some occasional signs that he's on the verge of wolfing out, there is no actual wolfed out smut lmao OTL. Please enjoy a small sneak peek of what I kind of sort of mean at the bottom of this post <3

For actual werewolf smut you'll want to look forward to the timestamp/smutty sequel I fully intend to write for my vamp!Tim and werewolf!Jay fic, in which he is absolutely the monsterfucker furry kind of werewolf and Tim takes gleeful advantage of that fact lololol (but werewolf fic comes first...! It Is Time. I Will Not Be Distracted.)

And omg yes. I do very much love the trans 🤝 werewolf overlap and metaphors, it's one of my favorite things fr fr (you got me thinking about trans lesbians jaytim now--)

I LOVE assuming there's a mundane explanation for a supernatural secret, that's my JAM (Do know that our early correspondences live rent free in my WIP document and that I would eventually also like to write the goofy sitcom-esque romcom in which Jason isn't quite hiding his lycanthropy from Tim - but Tim's not really clocking it either lmfao)

--and it must be said that dirty dirty werewolf sex will always be VITAL to both plot and character development <33 (it certainly is to werewolf fic, even if the werewolf part of that sex is mostly in the vibes lolol)

Anyway, here's wonderwall a sneak peek leading up to some of the smut in werewolf fic:

Jason snaps his teeth sharply, inches from Tim’s throat. It's not an empty gesture, and Tim wildly thinks through his options, squeezing tight with his knees around Jason’s thick waist so he can’t buck Tim off immediately. Jason is too strong and Tim is too light; he can’t stay here forever. Jason writhes underneath him, looking for leverage. With his shoulders trapped under Tim’s staff, Jason plants his feet and surges his hips in a powerful, cresting motion. Tim sinks back on his haunches to keep him down, then forward again when he threatens to break free. In Jason’s struggle, he rocks up just as Tim rocks down— and they inadvertently grind together. Tim's stomach curls and tangles in an electric jolt of heat at the glancing friction. He realizes with a spike of hot, mortified shame that he's— Tim is hard under his uniform. He sucks in a short gasp, trying to hide it, and Jason— —whines.

[justlightlysedated]

five times eddie rebuffs someone's advances by saying he's straight/gay and one time he doesn't have to

dedicated to @frankchurchillsaysrelax for being my cheerleader, love you 🖤

Read on [AO3]

one.

Eddie didn't want to be at this bar. It had been a couple of weeks after Chris had left with his parents and the last thing that Eddie had wanted to do was go to a bar after work, but Buck had suggested it, and Chimney had jumped on it and Hen had ushered him into her passenger seat, since he'd driven in with Buck that morning.

Fortunately she doesn't use the moment to talk about the fact that they're both missing children, but rants about their last call and how their new Captain was becoming a liability in the field, by not trusting their judgements.

By the time they make it to the bar, Buck is holding down a booth while Chim gets the first round.

While Hen goes to help Chim, Eddie slides into the booth next to Buck, and jostles him with his elbow, interrupting whatever he'd been doing on his phone, which was making him furrow his brow in confusion. 

Buck looks at him, raising his eyebrows pointedly and Eddie just shakes his head, raising one eyebrow in return, which makes Buck shrug and put his phone away just in time for Chimney and Hen to come back.

It's after the fourth round, when Buck has managed to convince Hen to play a game of pool with him, and Chimney has gone to the bathroom, that Eddie is sitting alone at the table, trying not to look through his recent messages and despair at how far down Christopher's messages have gotten in the list.

He's interrupted by someone sitting down across from him. Eddie looks up, mouth open to talk, when he realizes that it's not one of his friends.

The woman looks to be maybe a couple of years younger than him, and several glasses of alcohol more drunk than he is. She's got hazy blue eyes and long brown hair that spills down her shoulders as she leans forward suggestively. 

Eddie feels the dread settle in his chest before she even opens her mouth.

He'd been hoping that maybe she just wanted to rest a little bit before rejoining whoever she was here with, but a brief look around the bar revealed a group of giggling girls who were trying very hard to seem like they weren't looking over at them, one of them was wearing a bride to be sash and a crown.

"Hey," she says, prolonging the vowel. "Just saw you sitting here all by yourself, want some company?"

She grins at him, like she's proud of herself for not slurring any of her words. She's looking at him, like no one ever tells her no, and she thinks charming enough to flirt herself into a yes.

But Eddie's just not interested. Even without the clusterfuck his life has turned into the last couple of months, he wouldn't be interested in whatever she was offering.

"Sorry," he tells her. "But I'm not here alone."

He points towards where Chimney had joined Buck and Hen and is very obviously sabotaging all of Buck's attempts at winning. 

She turns to look over quickly, and shakes her head, "They won't miss you, if you want to spend some time with me."

She reaches out to touch the back of his hand, and Eddie immediately drops his hands to his lap, leaning back in his seat to put as much distance between them as he can without getting up to leave.

She's drunk enough to make a face that he's pretty sure she doesn't mean him to see, and is also visibly rallying herself for another try.

"They won't miss me, since I'm not interested in spending any time with you," Eddie says before she can speak, much more bluntly than he usually would.

She furrows her brow as she frowns at him, tilting her head to the side. "Are you gay?"

Eddie snorts and says sarcastically, "Yes, exactly. Being gay is the only reason a man wouldn't be interested in what you're offering."

She scoffs and immediately gets to her feet. "What a waste," she mutters as she walks away, loud for Eddie to hear it.

Eddie rolls his eyes, and promptly forgets all about the interaction when Buck drops down in the seat she'd just vacated, pouting because he'd lost the game to Hen.

Eddie grins at him, and Buck's starts to protest, "You weren't there. She was totally cheating."

Eddie snorts, laughing, and Buck starts to protest, pointing out all of the ways that Hen totally cheated, that segues into a conversation about the first official pool competition and how pool was known as billiards and is still called that in Europe.

Eddie just leans back, staring at Buck as he speaks, thinking he wouldn't be interested in spending time with anyone else.

two.

This time it's not that Eddie doesn't want to be at the bar. He was the one who had suggested to go and make it a group thing when Buck had sighed that Tommy would be too busy working to check out a new lgbt+ bar that had just opened up. 

Well, actually it is exactly like Eddie doesn't want to be at this bar, but the way that Buck had smiled and looked excited when Eddie had made his suggestion was more than enough of a prize for Eddie to put up with being in a crowded bar when he'd prefer to be locked in his room by himself.

He's at the bar by himself, waiting for the bartender while keeping an eye on everyone. Chimney and Maddie had already gone back home, while Karen and Hen were in the middle of the dance floor finishing dancing to the song while Eddie got their drinks, with Buck who was bouncing from partner to partner, dancing like a white boy with no rhythm at all, and somehow charming every single person who was in his orbit.

Even Eddie can't help the smile on his face as he sees Buck bumping into a group of girls and immediately becoming friends.

"Can I h-elp you?" Eddie hears from behind him, and turns around while the person is speaking, which makes them pause mid word before continuing.

Eddie is still smiling as he replies, "Yes, can I get another round on the Buckley tab?"

The bartender looks too young to actually be manning the bar, but he could possibly just have a baby face. His hair is dyed a purple dark enough to look black when he's not under a direct source of light, and his eyes are too big for his face, open wide as he looks at Eddie like he's never seen another person before.

The bartender blinks a couple of times, before he grins, boyishly charming, "Right away."

He doesn't go for the beers and cocktails they've been drinking, but pours Eddie a shot of a mix that looks bright and green and then leaves it in front of Eddie, winking as he says, "Free of charge."

Eddie is at that point of the night where he won't say no to alcohol, so he grabs the shot and downs it without further thought. It was sweet and sour and tasted overwhelmingly of apple. He must make a face because the bartender laughs as he fixes the drinks for Eddie's table on a tray. There is a pitcher of beer, three pint glasses stacked together, two margaritas and four shots of tequila that weren't a part of the original order.

He pours Eddie another green shot, and one for himself, and Eddie takes it again, without question, knocking their glasses together and throwing it back.

The bartender's eyes are on his throat when he sets his shot down, and Eddie tries hard not to frown.

Eddie moves forward a little to pull the tray closer to himself to take back to their table, when the bartender also leans in so they are much closer than before. 

"I get off in about two hours if you wanna stick around. I promise I can show you a good time." 

He's looking at Eddie from beneath heavy lids, and his lips are quirked in a one sided smirk. He looks confident that he knows what Eddie's answer is going to be, and Eddie would like to know what it is about him specifically that makes people think that he'd be interested in anything they have to offer.

"I'm flattered," Eddie says, because oddly enough he kind of is, but he's not going to look into that too deeply. "But I'm very straight."

The bartender gives him a look, like he doesn't believe what Eddie is saying, looking around the bar obviously like he's questioning why else would Eddie be here.

Eddie doesn't rise to the obvious bait, "I am an ally. Not that it's any of your business."

Eddie grabs the tray and leaves before anything else can be said. He almost bumps into Hen since he wasn't watching where he was going.

She gives him a look, and Eddie rolls his eyes. She sighs and grabs one of the shots from the tray and starts leading the way back to their table where Karen was already sitting, waiting, "Can't take you anywhere."

Eddie just snorts, "It's not like I go asking for the attention."

Hen shakes her head, "Nah, you're just too pretty."

Eddie was about to protest when there was an arm slung across his shoulders, and Buck's loud voice too close to his ear. "The prettiest," he says, agreeing with Hen. "I see the pretty privilege of getting free shots also works in gay bars, good to know."

Eddie rolls his eyes once again, but doesn't say anything, hoping his cheeks aren't as pink as they feel.

three.

Eddie is too busy doing his job to actually notice that his patient is trying to flirt with him, at least until she asks him if he wants her  number.

Eddie blinks at her confused, and then shakes his head, "That's not really appropriate."

She giggles at his response, like she can't help it, "It's not like I'm expecting a call right now."

Eddie shakes his head, "I don't date people I meet on calls."

She pouts at that, "Well, we don't have to date immediately. We can get to know each other first."

"I'm not interested," Eddie tries, moving to put more space between them, looking around for someone else to help, since she's obviously feeling better, if she's trying this hard to get his number.

She tilts her head at him, "Are you ace or something?"

Eddie is confused by what she's asking him, but it makes him think about how the last time a woman hit on him, he'd let her assume he was gay and it had made her go away, "I'm gay."

Her eyes widen a little bit, but she doesn't get upset or anything. She smiles at him, "Well, can I still get your number? My brother is bi and we definitely have the same taste in men."

Eddie feels like he's at an impasse, and isn't quite sure what to do when Buck appears out of nowhere, sliding an arm around Eddie's shoulders as he leans heavily against him.

He says something that Eddie doesn't quite catch since his heart starts pounding and his patient gives him a knowing look.

"Oh, I see," she says, and then winks at Eddie before turning around and leaving. Eddie doesn't stop her, not wanting to prolong the interaction. She had already been outside of the building when they'd gotten there, and had only a small cut on her brow. Eddie had checked for a concussion, and to make sure she hadn't inhaled any smoke.

"What was that about?" Buck asks, letting his arm fall from Eddie's shoulders and turning to face Eddie, a confused look on his face.

"Well, she wasn't taking no for an answer, and put two and two together when you came over."

Buck still looks confused. Eddie raises his eyebrows pointedly, and waits until Buck gets what he means.

"Oh," he says, and again. "Oh! I can go clear up the-"

He turns like he's actually going to seek her out, and Eddie reaches out and stops him before he can get too far.

"No," Eddie says firmly. "It was what I wanted."

Buck furrows his brow again, "You wanted her to think we were together?"

Eddie snorts, "I wanted her to think that I was gay. Since that's what I told her."

Buck is even more confused, "But you're not gay."

Eddie is, of course, going to say, of course not, but the words stay stuck in his throat, and the pause is long enough that Buck's confusion starts turning into a slight alarm.

Bobby's voice sounds out, calling them. Eddie just slaps Buck on the arm and runs towards where Bobby's voice is coming from, knowing that Buck is going to bring this conversation back up when Eddie least expects it.

four.

Eddie isn't technically avoiding anyone. Ever since a priest told him to let himself feel joy, Eddie has been indulging in things he'd otherwise reject. Like the truly expensive Mexican hot chocolate cappuccino that they serve in a giant mug with a design of his choosing on top at the cafe that is fifteen minutes away from the station. He'd woken up super early to be here, and to get a chance to sit and enjoy his coffee before he had to go into work.

He's about halfway done, and is contemplating getting two extra coffees to go, since he knows that Buck loves the French vanilla oat milk latte that they make (and maybe it will cheer him up enough to get rid of the literal thunder cloud hanging above his head since Tommy had broken up with him for at least a little bit), when someone drops down into the seat across from him.

Eddie looks up startled to see a handsome dark haired man with too big brown eyes who looked to be in his early twenties, and is even more shocked when they reach out to grab his hand.

Eddie goes to pull his hand back, when the man speaks up, "Please just, can you pretend to be my date. My crazy ex is right over there and he doesn't really understand boundaries."

Eddie wants to ask him why the hell that's his issue, when he looks over to see who the ex is, and sees a buff man sitting at the other side of the cafe and glowering at their table.

Eddie looks back to the guy sitting at his table and sighs, leaving his hand where it is. "If he's crossing boundaries, then maybe you should consider getting a restraining order?"

The guy gives Eddie a look, like he thinks that Eddie is adorable. "Cops don't take anything seriously unless something physical happens, and this face is much too pretty to be punched."

He grins as he finishes speaking, and Eddie really doesn't have anything to say to refute that actually.

"So you think my face is just ugly enough to be punched?" Eddie asks even though he really didn't mean to.

The guy laughs, and picks up Eddie's hand to cradle it between his two, giving Eddie a knowing look that reminds him of Buck whenever he teases Eddie for having pretty privilege, "Fishing for compliments is not cute."

Eddie can't help but laugh, smiling back as he leans forward a little, "That's not what your face is saying."

The guy leans forward as well, smile turning a bit sly, "Oh yeah? What is my face saying then?"

"It's saying that you think I'm very cute."

The guy laughs again, throwing his head back and shaking his head.

Before anything else can be said, the sound of a chair screeching as it was pushed back. They both turned to see the boundaries pushing ex stalking out of the cafe and down the street.

The guy leaned back in his seat and let out a relieved breath.

"Thank you," he says and smiles, squeezing Eddie's hand and making him aware that they're still holding hands.

Eddie feels his cheeks heating up as he tugs his hand away as gently as he could.

"You're welcome," he replies and grabs his mug to try and finish the rest of his coffee as fast as he can.

"My name is Evan by the way," he says, and Eddie just barely stops himself from choking on his drink, coughing a little as he sets the mug down and grabs his napkin to wipe his mouth.

Evan's smile dims a little bit, but he stays smiling.

"Eddie," Eddie responds, pointing at himself, and setting his hand back down to the table.

"Well, Eddie," he says, leaning forward once again. "How about we turn this into an actual date?"

Eddie coughs again, feeling his cheeks heating up.

"While I've had fun pretending, I'm actually straight," Eddie says, and for some reason, unlike all the other times he's used this excuse, he actually feels a twinge in the pit of his stomach, like he wasn't being entirely truthful.

"Really?" Evan says, sounding a bit incredulous.

"Yeah?" Eddie responds, and this time it sounds like he's lying.

Evan raises both of his eyebrows and then shrugs a little, "Okay, but still, let me pay for your coffee as a thank you."

Eddie feels as though his entire face is red now. He blinks a little, looking down at the coffee that he's almost done with, "I already paid for this one."

Evan laughs, "Then let me buy you another one."

Eddie smiles and nods his head a little, "Fine. You can get me a French vanilla latte with oat milk to go."

Evan knocks his fist against the table, nodding his head. Eddie tries not to stare, but ends up staring anyway as he gets in line, and gets the coffee.

He leaves it on the table, sending Eddie a grin, before he leans down quickly and presses a kiss to Eddie's cheek, "Hopefully, I'll see you around."

And then he's leaving, dropping out of Eddie's life just like how he dropped into it.

Eddie just ducks his head down and finishes the rest of his coffee, feeling like the red in his cheeks is never going to go away.

He ends up giving Buck the coffee once he gets to the station, before he goes to change into his uniform.

By the time he makes it up to the loft, there is a teasing mood in the air. Eddie looks around at everyone, who is staring at him in curiosity (Chimney), amusement (Hen), and frowning (Buck).

"What?" he asks, patting his chest to make sure that he was actually wearing a shirt.

"You want me to save this for you?" Buck asks, and turns the paper cup the coffee was in to show Eddie a phone number along with the message, Just in case you change your mind.

Eddie flushes once again, but refuses to actually answer. He's actually about to invoke their collective wrath by saying the Q word, but before he can the alarm rings out. Eddie breathes out in relief, and turns back around.

five.

All Eddie wants is to decompress with his friends, finish eating his burger and then let Buck drive him home so he could pass out for the next ten hours.

So of course, that's not what happens. It's not the first time that Eddie's been hit on while he's out with everyone. It's not even the hundredth time. It is the first time that they are all there when he says, "I'm gay, and really not interested."

The woman goes fully red with embarrassment, and turns around without another word, stalking back to her seat.

Eddie exhales in relief and is about to take another bite of his burger when he looks up to see that everyone is staring at him.

"What?" he asks, letting his burger go to give them his full attention.

Chimney's eyes are still narrowed, while Hen and Buck share a look.

"You're not gay," Hen says slowly, like she's not sure if she should say it or not.

Eddie shrugs, "I tell guys I'm straight to avoid attention as well."

This time all three of them exchange glances. 

"But you are straight," this time it's Buck who speaks. "Aren't you?"

"Am I?" Eddie says, grinning when Buck's mouth falls open as he stares at Eddie incredulously.

Eddie just grins when Hen snorts and picks up his burger again.

Buck leaves it alone for the entire time that they finish eating, and even for the ride back home, but Eddie knows he's not going to leave it alone. Especially not when it's the second time in the last couple of weeks that Eddie has implied that he's not entirely straight.

So he's not surprised when Buck turns off the ignition and follows behind Eddie as he walks into his house and into the kitchen.

"Eddie," Buck says, but Eddie just pretends that he can't hear him, walking towards the fridge to get out a bottle of water. He downs about half of it before he turns to face Buck.

He still has no idea what to say actually. He's sure I don't actually know, isn't going to fly, not with Buck, who would most definitely know that there was something he did know even if it wasn't whether or not he was gay or straight.

The realization wasn't something that happened overnight. It had been slowly coming over the last couple of years, but mostly the last couple of weeks. Every time that Eddie has had to shoot someone down, or let them down gently, there is this feeling in the pit of his stomach that tells him that the reason he's giving everyone isn't the truth. And prodding at the feeling revealed one thing. 

That he was already in love with someone else. With Buck.

Eddie looks at Buck now, who looks more concerned and worried than anything else, and he knows that he's not alone in his feelings.

He figured that one out as well right after the first realization. He's not entirely sure if Buck is in love with him, but he has the feeling that if he were to push the issue, Buck wouldn't disappoint him.

"What is going on?" Buck asks after a couple of minutes of charged silence between them.

"I don't know," Eddie says almost at the same time.

Buck's confusion grows even more, "Eddie."

"I mean, I don't know the answer to your previous question."

Buck takes a second to realize what Eddie is saying, and the shock spreads across his face.

Eddie takes a step closer, and Buck moves closer as well, like they're two magnets that are getting too close to each other's magnetic pull.

"So you're-?" Buck asks in a hushed voice, leaving it open ended and staring intently like he can get the answer straight from Eddie's brain if he stares long enough.

"I don't know," Eddie says again. "I'm not really interested in figuring that out right now, though."

Buck looks like he doesn't understand what Eddie is trying to say. So Eddie keeps speaking, taking another step forward.

"I know you didn't rest until you figured out your label, and I'm happy that figuring that out made you happy, but for me, that's not what this is about."

"Then what's it about?" Buck asks, taking two steps forward so that they are less than an arm's length away.

Eddie's breathing hitches, and he hopes that Buck doesn't notice.

"I'm just not interested in casual or dating," Eddie says, voice low, not doing a good enough job of keeping the disgust out of his voice from the fond smile that starts spreading across Buck's face. "Not when I'm-"

Eddie stops speaking, the words caught in his throat. He swallows hard, eyes falling away from Buck's face to some point across his shoulder.

"Not when you're what, Eddie?"

Eddie closes his eyes and inhales deeply, letting the breath out slowly. He opens his eyes again, and inhales sharply, losing the small amount of calm he'd gathered when he notices that Buck had moved so that he was in Eddie's line of sight once again.

Looking at Buck's face, feeling the weight of his gaze right in the pit of his stomach, the seriousness in his eyes, knowing without a doubt that this conversation was something that Buck wasn't  taking lightly,  that he'd be safe no matter what he said, made it easy for the words to come out.

"Not when I'm in love with someone else."

Buck's eyes dart all over his face as his brow furrows. There is just a moment, a blink and you'll miss it moment where Eddie thinks Buck looks disappointed. But before it settles it turns into a warm expression, full of empathy.

"Shannon," he says, nodding his head, lIke it makes sense. And Eddie really can't blame him for thinking that, not with what happened just months ago.

Still he laughs a little, shaking his head as he lifts his hands to Buck's shoulders squeezing lightly, making Buck's gaze go wide and shocked.

"No, idiot," Eddie says, feeling so much fondness, and just an overwhelming amount of love. "You."

"M-" Buck starts to say, but Eddie moves even closer, and presses a kiss to Buck's cheeks, causing him to stop speaking as his breathing stutters.

"Eds," Buck breathes out, a question in his trembling tone.

Eddie just nudges his nose into Buck's cheek, and presses another kiss closer to his mouth.

"I'm in love with you," Eddie says, pressing his forehead to Buck's jaw and closing his eyes. "That's what I know."

Buck exhales slowly, shoulders dropping as he lifts his hands and presses his fingers on either side of Eddie's waist.

Eddie breathes out carefully, and tightens his eyes briefly,  before opening them and lifting his head.

Buck is looking at him, with the same look on his face he always has whenever Eddie gives him a compliment or says something that Buck was not expecting, blue eyes wide and clear and shining bright.

It makes Eddie's heart thud hard and painful in his chest, makes him lean in that much closer, eyes drifting from Buck's to his mouth.

"Eddie," Buck says, voice soft and trembling. Eddie just watches him, waiting for Buck to make up his mind one way or another.

Buck moves his hands when Eddie doesn't say anything, sliding them up Eddie's chest, making Eddie's breathing hitch when he presses careful fingers to Eddie's face, tipping his jaw just slightly. Eddie moves into the touch eagerly, pressing even closer, moving one hand to Buck's shoulder and sliding it to cradle the curve of his neck, feeling the thundering heartbeat beneath the palm of his hand.

"Eddie," Buck says again, this time sounding more steady.

Eddie still doesn't say anything.

Buck exhales once again, shaking his head a little as a smile curls the corners of his mouth, just slightly.

"I'm going to kiss you," Buck says, like he needs to be clear as to what is about to happen, even though Eddie's been sure of where this is going from the moment that Buck didn't push him away when Eddie kissed him on the cheek.

"Are you?" Eddie says, smiling.

"Yeah," Buck whispers, voice even lower.

"Then what are you waiting for?" Eddie asks, maybe sounding a bit petulant.

Which makes Buck laugh, a small puff of laughter that Eddie can feel wash across his face.

"I'm trying to build anticipation here, Edmundo."

Eddie wrinkles his nose at the use of his full name, "Well, I've been waiting, for years really, so I think anti-"

Buck kisses him mid sentence, and Eddie's entire mind goes blank, the chaste kiss washing away every single thought he's ever had. It's all replaced with this feeling, warm, slow and sweet, pouring through his entire body.

Eddie pushes closer, wrapping one arm around Buck's shoulder and the other low on his back, pushing into the kiss.

Buck slides his hands across Eddie's jaw and to the back of his neck.

Buck moves back slowly, and Eddie has to fight the urge to pull him back into another kiss.

He opens his eyes, and can't help but smile at the dumbstruck look on Buck's face, lips parted, eyes wide, cheeks rosy red.

"Oh," he breathes out, and Eddie's smile turns into a laugh and he leans forward slightly, pressing their foreheads together, and lets his eyes fall shut.

plus one.

Once again, Eddie is at a bar when he would rather be at home. This time he couldn't even convince Buck just to head straight home after work.

Chris was at a sleepover and they had a rare night to themselves that they could take advantage of, but Maddie had complained that she hadn't seen her brother to just hang out in weeks, and Chimney and Hen had also made comments on how they had secluded themselves for long enough and it was time to get over the honeymoon stage.

So here he was once again, feeling a bit more tired than usual. A feeling that wasn't helped by the three beers he'd already drunk. 

At one point he finds himself lying down on his crossed arms on the table, face turned towards Buck, eyes partly closed.

He feels the table jostle twice as someone or multiple someone's leave. Only humming in acknowledgement when Maddie says bye by ruffling his hair, in a move that she must've learned about from his sisters, when she and Chimney head out.

Eddie only realizes they are alone when Buck leans a little closer, pressing one hand high up on Eddie's thigh to get his attention.

Eddie focuses on his face, cheeks flushed with color like they always get when he's had more than three beers.

Eddie lifts his eyebrows in question.

Buck just smiles at him, as he leans back, hand sliding away from Eddie's thigh, and he lifts one of the empty bottles on the table so that Eddie can see it, shaking it a little.

Eddie lifts his head up, nodding, before propping his elbow on the bar and leaning his chin on his palm to watch as Buck gathers all of the empty bottles to one corner of the table. 

Buck looks to Eddie before he gets up from the table and reaches out to press the tips of his fingers right beneath Eddie's eye. 

"We'll go home after the next round," he says.

Eddie just smiles back and watches him as he leaves, sighing as he goes.

He knows he must look ridiculous with the sappy, love sick grin on his face, but he thinks that it's something that he's allowed, after years of denying himself the pleasure of simply looking at Buck.

Eddie is just planning on staring until Buck comes back. He loves to see the way Buck ducks his head and flutters his eyelashes when he sees that Eddie hasn't stopped looking at him. Eddie is still looking at where Buck is waiting for the bartender to get to him when someone walks into his line of sight.

It was a woman with long brown hair, wearing one of those form fitting dresses in a bright pink color that stopped at her midthigh.

Eddie blinks a little, eyes darting away, and feels someone sitting down at the table. 

He looks to the side to find a man in a sports jacket with shaggy dark hair.

He grins at Eddie, "Mind if I sit here for a bit?"

Before Eddie can respond the woman who'd been walking towards him is sitting down right beside the man. They lean into each other in a way that shows that they are well acquainted, and Eddie feels oddly like he's in the middle of a trap.

"You looked a little lonely," the woman says as she sits down. "We were wondering if you want some company."

Eddie doesn't even have to think about it. "No thanks, I'm fine."

"That you are," the man says and they both move almost like a dance. He leans back and she leans forward.

"We were actually wondering if you'd be interested in coming home with us," she says, reaching out like she's gonna touch Eddie's arm, but Eddie sits up immediately, putting himself out of reach.

"What makes you think that I would be interested in coming home with you?" Eddie asks, feeling both genuinely curious at the answer and a little bit over this whole thing.

They look at each other and then back to Eddie. "You're hot," they both answer at the same time.

Eddie sighs, rolling his eyes. He doesn't know why he was expecting any other answer.

Eddie wants to say that that's not a good enough reason, or maybe tell them that they weren't nearly interesting enough for Eddie to even think about doing a threesome.

Before he can say any of that, two beers are set down sharply on the table, the condensation from the cold glass splattering everywhere.

Eddie looks up, and just sees Buck's face, brow furrowed, mouth in a determined line, for a second before Buck is sitting down in his seat, or well mostly in his seat, while also throwing his leg over Eddie's lap. Eddie barely has time to say anything else, when Buck wraps his fingers into the open collar of his shirt and pulls him into a kiss. 

Eddie makes a muffled sound of surprise but quickly gets with the program, hooking his left arm around Buck's shoulders and pressing the fingers of his right hand to the side of Buck's face, kissing him back.

Buck presses fingers to Eddie's throat, making him gasp and he wastes no time licking into Eddie's mouth and kissing him wet and deep and filthy. The same kind of kiss he gives Eddie right after blowjobs like he's determined to lick his taste out of Eddie's mouth.

It's not a kiss that is entirely acceptable in public. Especially when Eddie drops his right hand to Buck's thigh, itching to tug him right into his lap.

Eddie forgets all about where he is and the audience they all had, world narrowed to Buck and the hot press of his mouth against Eddie's.

After a while, Eddie starts to get dizzy and it's only then when Buck pulls back. Eddie gasps raggedly, blinking his eyes open, not understanding why the kissing has stopped.

Buck laughs, low and short, right against Eddie's mouth and leans in a bit to nudge their noses together.

"I missed you," he says even though they've only been apart for less than ten minutes.

That fact doesn't stop the smile that crosses Eddie's face.

He's expecting to be kissed again, so he's not really pleased when Buck turns and speaks to someone else, dislodging Eddie's arm around his shoulders.

"You're wasting your time. He's not interested and I don't share."

He bares his teeth at them, a move that he'll probably be mortified by when he's sober tomorrow, but Eddie just finds it extremely hot.

He doesn't hear anything else as he cups the back of Buck's neck in his hands and tugs him back into another kiss. 

Eddie muffles whatever other words Buck was going to say with his lips, licking into Buck's open mouth and kissing him just as thoroughly as Buck had earlier.

Buck sinks into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Eddie, fingers digging into Eddie's back as he tugs him in closer. Eddie drags his hands into Buck's hair, tangling his fingers in his hair and digging against his scalp.

Buck moans into his mouth, and Eddie can't think of a good enough reason why it would be a bad idea to push Buck back into his seat and drop to his knees.

That is until the table is jostled, and it digs into Eddie's hip.

Eddie pulls away from Buck glaring at whoever interrupted them, only to see a completely unaffected Hen. Karen was downing one of the beers that Buck had gotten.

"Maybe you should continue this at home?"

Eddie turns back to Buck, who is still looking at him with hooded eyes, bottom lip trapped in between his teeth.

"How about that?" Eddie asks, getting Buck's attention. "Wanna go home?"

Buck swallows hard and nods his head, "Yeah, let's go home."

Eddie grins and leans back in for another kiss before getting to his feet and holding his hand out.

"Let's go."

Buck grabs his hand and gets to his feet, and then rushes them both out of the door. Eddie laughs, but lets Buck drag him wherever he wants to go.

[onebizarrekai]

I've been going back and forth trying to decide whether I want to make the old ibvs oneshots be available on ao3 but every time I look at them I go into a state of shock at how… absolutely teenager they are

also this

[amtrak12]

Niles 'conditioned to believe his pleasure ranks last if at all' vs Daphne 'loves touching and being an active participant and seeing her partner enjoying themselves' -- Fight.

[greenerteacups]

What do you think as Hermione's career would be post battle of Hogwarts? To me her being minister for magic really doesn't make sense. She does not have patience or tact to wade through murky waters of politics 😭😭

So hard to say! The Trio are so, so young when we leave them, I find it almost impossible to project their futures farther than a few years out. The job that suited me at 17 would be radically unsuited to me now. That's why of all the Trio, Ron's ending strikes me as the most realistic — he jumps straight into the save-the-world business again, burns out, realizes he's actually Done The Fuck Enough, Thanks, and pivots into a low-stress career where he gets to see his family a lot. Feels accurate! The others are weirder to me because they do seem to just... pick a lane and stay there.

With Hermione, you could spin her a couple ways. You could say that she leans into her bookish side and does research or teaching, which is not my preference for a couple reasons (namely, I don't think Hermione would like academia as a profession; she finds her classwork interesting and enjoys intellectual validation, but she'd be stifled and wasted in a DPhil program, and she'd be infuriated by the administrative politicking of your average higher-ed faculty). You could say that she gets disaffected with politics and ends up as a barrister or a lobbyist of some kind, but if anything that requires more political finesse, because you don't actually have institutional power, you're just handling the people who make decisions and trying to persuade them of your goals. This is not Hermione's preferred method of influence. She's not even particularly good at persuasion, she just happens to be smart enough (and right often enough) that people take her ideas seriously.

Or you could say her brashness fades with the years into a softened flavor of tell-you-like-it-is honesty, which some politicians actually do successfully trade on; as we see in British politics today, you don't have to be all that charming or clever to get ahead, you just need to be really driven and well-connected (which Hermione completely is; she fought shoulder-to-shoulder with the first postwar Minister and her bestie, the Literal Messiah, runs the Auror Office.) But I don't know if Hermione especially wants to be Minister, after the war. She's just watched years of horrendous bureaucratic incompetence plunge the country into a violent civil conflict. She's had not one, but two Ministers of Magic try to bully or shame her friends into complicity with fascism. Her view of government is... likely extremely dark.

But Hermione also isn't the kind of person who sees her life as a quest for happiness. Babygirl has a savior complex that makes Harry look selfish. (She basically kills her parents — yeah, obliviating is a form of murder, #changemymind — "for their own good," and justifies every batshit, vindictive, mean-spirited move she ever pulls on the grounds that it "helps" one of her friends.) She is a mean, lean, dragon-slaying machine, and she needs a dragon. After Voldemort, the Ministry is the no. 1 threat to muggle-borns and non-wizarding Beings. As a war heroine with basically infinite political capital, I'd be surprised if she didn't try to do something there. That said, Hermione is so vivacious and dynamic that she could potentially grow in a hundred different directions; it's possible that all of this, while true of her at 18, becomes completely inaccurate by 22. That's why I'm not too fussed about any particular fanon interpretation.

[knockknockitsnickels]

Second Movement ch 4: Warmups

Fellas is it weird to post the next chapter of your fanfic 3 years after the last one (and also 3 years after you wrote it?). Anyway in this one Alya goes to Lila's house to help her practice the flute

First

Previous

Lila paced around the living room, waiting for Alya’s arrival. She’d spent all afternoon cleaning her room, checking to make sure they had enough snacks, and hiding all evidence that she was not actually related to acclaimed flute player Emmanuel Pahud. 

She hadn’t used that lie on anyone yet, but who knew what the future held?

Surely everything was prepared now. She stopped her pacing for a moment, scanning the room around her. Perhaps her anxiety stemmed from the fact that this was the first time in years she’d had a friend over? Or perhaps her growing, ever present, self-inflicted dread that one day her lies would crash down all around her and she’d be trapped until her mother inevitably decided to move again?

Before Lila could have an actual moment of clarity, Alya arrived. 

“Sorry I’m late!” She laughed. She had a laptop bag slung over her shoulder. “I got caught up in watching my little sisters. Can I come in?”

“Of course.” Lila stepped aside to let her in. Alya paused in the center of the living room, admiring it.

“Nice place. You sure your mom’s okay with us hanging out here?”

“Oh yeah. She doesn’t know.” Lila responded, shutting the door behind her. “Doesn’t care, I mean. Doesn’t care. Anyway, want a drink?” She gestured towards the fridge. “We have soft drinks, sodas, and pop.”

“Oh, thanks! I’ll have a coke.” Alya began typing something on her computer as Lila brought some drinks over, setting herself down beside her. “Okay, so I googled ‘how to play the flute’, and this is what came up.” She explained, gesturing towards the screen. Lila saw a youtube video, helpfully titled ‘how to play the flute.’ “That’s as good a place to start as any, right?”

Despite her internal skepticism, Lila nodded. “Wait, that’s twelve minutes long.”

“Well, yeah.” Alya frowned at her. “Learning an instrument is not a five minute affair, Lila. Now come on, grab your flute and let’s get started!”

The pair settled down to watch the video, occasionally pausing it so Lila could practice and perfect what the instructor said. Twelve and some minutes later, she prepared to put her new skills to the test with Inversia. 

Six or so minutes later, Alya was laughing on the floor as Lila gasped for breath.

“That was-” Alya cut herself off with another fit of laughter. 

Lila flushed. “It’s hard, okay?! I’m sorry I’m not some prodigy!”

“Woah, hey, I’m sorry.” Alya pushed herself to her feet, stifling her laughter somewhat. “It’s okay, we all start pretty bad. I couldn’t even get any sound to come out of my trombone for like a year. It just takes practice, that’s all!”

Lila frowned down at her flute. “Right. Practice.”

“Do you want to try again?” Alya asked. She gave her an encouraging smile. “We can also take a break if you want. You seem really out of breath.”

“Let’s watch another video.” Lila said, heading back towards the couch. “There might be a better one which can help.”

“Alright.” Alya returned to her spot next to her. “How about this one?”

Eight minutes and five common beginner mistakes that will affect your tone later, the girls were looking for another video when Lila spotted something over Alya’s shoulder. 

“Top 15 mysteries solved by 4chan?”

Alya followed her gaze to the video in the recommended section. “...Huh. I don’t know why that’s there." She laughed awkwardly. 'Youtube's algorithm is kind of broken."

“Ha, yeah.” 

There was silence for a moment.

“Want to watch it?”

“Yes.”

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

There was a phenomenon Alya was quite familiar with from all her years of group study sessions with her friends. This being, of course, the miraculous ability to be distracted by anything. 

They could only be blamed so much for this, Alya had reasoned to herself. Using the internet was unavoidable in modern schooling, and the internet was designed to distract. So when she and Lila had inevitably fallen down a rabbit hole of unholy mashups, unsolved murders, and cat videos, they really couldn’t be blamed for it. 

“I can’t believe how late it is!” Alya followed Lila’s gaze towards the clock. “Did we really waste that much time?!” 

“Well, yeah.” Alya laughed awkwardly. “Some of those videos were like. Half an hour long.”

Lila flopped back on the couch with a huff, crossing her arms. 

“Hey now.” Alya patted her friend on the shoulder. “It happens all the time. Once, Chloe, Marinette and I spent like three hours watching cooking videos. And it was the day before our test, too!” 

This didn’t seem to cheer Lila up much, though she did smirk slightly. “Did you pass?”

“No. But we did learn a 600 year old donut recipe, so that was pretty cool. Anyway, we can always meet up to practice again, it’s not the end of the world.”

Lila nodded. “I guess.” She took another glance at the clock. “Yeah, I guess you should be heading home, right? It’s getting late.” 

“Right.” Alya got to her feet. “I guess I’ll see you in class tomorrow?”

“Probably. I might have a doctor’s appointment.” The two girls made idle conversation as Alya packed up her stuff and headed to the door. 

“When’s your mom getting home?” Alya asked as they reached the door. 

Lila seemed caught off guard by the question, though Alya wasn’t sure why. “Oh, she’s away this week!” She finally said, her voice unusually bright. “So if you want to meet up again, we can hang out here anytime!”

Alya frowned to herself. Her parents worked a lot as well, so she was no stranger to having to fend for herself (and her siblings), but she still couldn’t help feeling sorry for her friend. She thought to herself for a moment. “Did you have any other plans for tonight?”

“Of course!” Lila replied. “You know, I’ve got a meeting with Sonic-”

“The Hedgehog?”

Lila was silent for a moment. “Okay, no, I don’t have any plans”

Alya raised an eyebrow, but decided not to comment. “Well, there’s no reason we have to stop now then, right?”

“Wait, really? Won’t your parents be angry if you aren’t home for supper?”

“Nah, my parents are pretty chill.” Alya pulled out her phone, texting her mom. “Stuff like this usually comes up anyway, my dad and sister aren’t home tonight either.” She glanced towards her friends. “I mean, if you’re tired-”

“No! No, I’m fine.” Lila seemed flustered for some reason. “... Want to order a pizza or something?”

They had about half an hour before the pizza arrived, so Alya suggested they try practicing some more. “Just to make up for all that time we wasted.”

Lila seemed unsure. “Uh... I don’t know, maybe I’ll play better if I practice on my own.”

“... Girl, you don’t have to be embarrassed about messing up in front of me.” Alya laughed. “Seriously, it’s a completely normal part of the learning process.” 

Lila didn’t respond. 

“Okay, if you’re done practicing for the night, we can do something else.” she sighed. “Next time we meet up, I’ll bring my trombone. Then we can both screw up.” 

This did bring a slight smile to her friend’s face, satisfying her for the moment. The pair sat down to watch some more videos until the pizza arrived. 

“So, you’ve been all over before moving here, right?” Alya asked as she took a slice of pizza. “Also why did we order dominoes.”

“Pretty much, yeah.” Lila took a bite of pizza. “My mom’s got like this super important job, so we basically get to see all kinds of cool places. I’ve met a lot of cool people too!” 

“Like Sonic the Hedgehog?”

Lila scowled at her.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry!” Alya laughed. “So like, is Paris the coolest place you’ve been to or what?”

Lila thought to herself for a moment. “Well, it’s hard to say. It’s pretty nice, I guess… I only moved here over the summer, so I haven’t seen much of it yet.”

Alya nodded. “I can show you around if you want! I know basically everything about it. I wanted to start a tourism blog about underappreciated spots in Paris once, actually.” 

“That sounds neat! Can I see it? I know a few people who can promote it, if you want, of course.”

“It’s pretty dead now. I kind of gave up on it.” She took another bite of pizza. “If your friends want to promote Nino’s soundcloud page though…”

Lila laughed nervously. “Well, see, they’re busy people, and like they’d love to help me but I hate bothering them since they’ve got so much to do-”

Alya frowned. “Lila? Are you, uh, lying about knowing blog-promoters?” 

“What!? No! Of course not!” Lila’s extreme reaction confirmed for Alya that she was in fact lying. “Why would I ever lie about something like that? Are you-

“Woah, woah, calm down!’ Alya held her hands up until Lila stopped flailing around for excuses. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to freak you out like that!”

The other girl looked confused. “You didn’t?”

“Sorry, I just… You don’t have to lie to me, y’know? Or anyone!” She gave her friend what she hoped was a comforting smile. “I’m not gonna think less of you just because you haven’t met a lot of celebrities!”

Lila was quiet for a moment. “But my friend Drake-”

“Lila I will actively think worse of you if I find out you’re friends with Drake.” Alya took a deep breath. “Look, I just… You’re worth more than what you can do for other people. I don’t care if you can help promote my dead blog, or introduce me to a bunch of random celebrities. Having you as a friend is what matters, and I’m sure there’s a lot of other people who will feel the same way!” “Uh.” The other girl stared at Alya in shock. “I- uh-”

“Sorry!” Alya laughed awkwardly. “Didn’t mean to overwhelm you or anything!”

“It’s fine.” Lila’s voice sounded choked. Her face was turned away. “Thanks? That’s. Um. Nice of you to say?”

“Well. I mean it.” 

There was silence between them for a moment. “I guess I don’t know Drake. Or Sonic.”

“That was kind of obvious.”

“I know. I just… Wanted to make that clear.” Lila took a deep breath. “Sorry. For lying, I mean.”

“It’s okay. I’m not mad! I just thought you should know. Look, let’s just forget about it, okay? Why don’t you tell me about some of the other places you’ve visited!”

“Oh. Okay. Well.” Lila thought to herself for a moment. “I went to Ohio.”

“What’s it like?”

“It’s. Uh.” After a moment, she laughed, though it still sounded nervous. “It’s boring.”

“Come on! It can’t be that boring.”

“Alya, tell me one interesting thing you know about Ohio.”

She thought to herself for a moment. “They have… corn?”

“Corn isn’t interesting.”

“Okay, okay, fine. What about some of the other places you’ve been to?”

“Well, Montreal was a bit more exciting…”

The pair was soon deep in conversation, as Lila recounted the many places she’d visited and they reminisced over the struggles of moving away. 

“Do you still keep in touch with any of your old friends?” Alya asked. 

Lila’s face was briefly overcome with the most pitiful expression Alya had ever seen before it disappeared, replaced with her trademark smile. “Oh, I’ve been to so many places, it’s difficult to remember them all!”

“It’s hard leaving them behind, isn’t it?” It had been years since Alya had lived in Martinique, but she still found herself missing her old friends. 

Lila was quiet for a moment. “Of course.” She seemed to be mentally debating something before she finally spoke again. “Uh, actually-”

At that moment, a woman who Alya presumed to be Lila’s mother burst through the door. “OH! Lila, you didn’t tell me you had a friend over!”

“Uh, yeah, hi mom.” Alya couldn’t hold back a grin at the look on Lila’s face. “What are you doing home so early?!”

“Early? Why Lila, it’s almost midnight!” The pair turned to the clock on the wall to see she was right. Apparently they’d lost track of time.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to stay so late, I’d better head home!” Alya got to her feet, sending a quick text to her mom. “Ugh, my parents are gonna kill me…”

“You’re welcome to stay!” Ms. Rossi smiled at Alya. “Lila doesn’t have friends over very often! It’s nice to meet you- I’m sorry, did I get your name?”

Alya winced. “Um-”

“Mom, this is Alya. She was helping me practice flute.” Lila explained through gritted teeth.

“You’ve decided to start playing the flute!? Oh Lila, that’s wonderful! I can help you as well, you know!”

“I know, mom. I just knew you would be busy.” She began to lead Alya towards the door. “You’re probably tired after work, right? We can take care of ourselves, so-”

“Well, I am tired, but are you sure you won’t need any help?” Ms Rossi turned to Alya. “I could give you a ride home, if you like!”

“That’s alright, Ms. Rossi, but thanks! My parents are coming to pick me up anyway.” Alya took a glance at her phone. “They should be here soon.”

“Oh, alright! But let me know if you need anything!” With that, she disappeared down a nearby hallway. Lila let out a heavy sigh and turned away from Alya.

“... Sorry about her.”

“Don’t be!” Alya laughed. “Wait until you meet my parents! My dad still tells that stupid panther story…”

This did seem to cheer Lila up a bit. “Right. Parents, huh?”

“Yeah… Hey, that reminds me! We should do this at my place next time, it’s only fair since I stayed here so long.”

She seemed surprised. “Are you sure?”

“Of course! We didn’t get much practicing done today, anyways. Though we did learn a lot about bigfoot.”

“Who knew he was in Paris this whole time?”

The pair chatted for a short while longer before Alya’s father pulled up and they said their goodbyes, promising to meet again as soon as possible.

[viric-dreams]

I've been spinning in circles for how to present this for weeks now and don't seem to be going anywhere. Quick bullet point lore update:

-Nite figured out there's some other guy running around with the shared body. Said guy seems to belong to the New Sequence and could be a direct threat to him and his plans.

-He tries to convince Jones to keep an eye on him, and when he changes to try to approach him, same as he did that first night, and get information out of him. Jones did tell him he's a spy, after all. Technically, yes, but he isn't in the field or anything. He just passes on information.

-Against his better judgement, Jones agrees. This seems to be initially going well, until he mistakenly says something that from Roberts' POV he absolutely should not know. Roberts understandably freaks out and there's an altercation.

-A severely rattled Jones tries to track down Nite, in hope of some sort of comfort. By the time he finally does, Nite seems utterly preoccupied. He's not listening to Jones at all, not offering the empathy and support he really needs at this moment, but trying to press him for information on what he'd learned. He's not listening and Jones feels like an agent and not his lover. That this was the consequence of letting people in on what he does, that that's all they see him as.

-Jones snaps, saying the most hurtful things he possibly can at that moment to get Nite to actually stop and listen (and a darker part of him knows, to make him feel just as bad as he does at that moment, if not worse). He makes clear that he's done with him, with both of them, and not to go near him again lest he fry the memory of him out of them entirely with irrigo.

-This hits Nite incredibly hard, and he doesn't take the breakup well at all. He immediately firmly plants the blame for this on Roberts for whatever the hell it was that he did (and regrets that he never got to that part of Jones' story). He decides to declare war against Roberts, committed to utterly ruin his life in exchange for ruining his, starting with his involvement with the New Sequence.

-Jones, meanwhile, is distraught. He struck out in anger with the intent to hurt someone close to him. Did he need to then? No. But he'd wanted to. And the worst bit? It felt good. Even afterwards, despite the horror and the nausea, it still can't drown out that sheer satisfaction he felt seeing Nite recoil like that. He doesn't recognise himself. Maybe he is someone completely different from the man he thought he was. And if that's his reality, then he might as well lean into it. He needs a drink.

[lord-squiggletits]

The hard thing about writing therapy sessions into fics is that like. The story is predicated on drama, and even in therapy characters are still people that may or may not be able to communicate, and then there's the fact that even when you're successful in therapy you still have to deal with relationships and life outside of that where your coping is actually put to the test

Like it's weird because "characters dialoguing in therapy speak" is a current day hated trope, but in this case the characters going to therapy (sometimes even with each other) is LITERALLY part of the plot. But then you don't want the therapy to just instantly solve every interpersonal conflict so the characters still need to beef over something. Which, fine, lots of people go to therapy and don't cooperate during the session, are unwilling to apply the advice IRL, other things happen due to the flawed nature of existence, etc.

What I'm trying to say is that at least in stories/worlds with no therapy, ppl being severely malfunctional and getting in deep shit makes sense bc there's no education or support or help for them to make the optimal choices. But in stories with therapy, you want the therapy to be an in-universe part of the world that characters react to as real people react in therapy. But you don't want the therapy to turn into a meta device that you as an author use to magic away a character's emotional/interpersonal problems effortlessly with disregard to how long/difficult therapy is.

I feel like this might be a genre issue, idk? There's just so few stories that involve therapy (many of which are biographical in nature and not fiction/narrative focused), maybe due to how mental health is only a recently destigmatized/educated topic. So this feels like a writing problem exclusive to some sort of contemporary, "just like the real world" genre of writing that I'm unfamiliar with and maybe the answer is just "yeah you have to write it as a fictional story but also like it's real life." Idk.

[frankenjoly]

baby's 1st beast fic soon ldkjflfkj

[theragamuffininitiative]

Is Lester you made up. Because I made a cowboy too 😂

It's complicated, actually. 😅 Lasater is **technically** not an oc, he was created by some tv writers back in the 60s and exists in a few episodes of shows from that time that were intended to be their own story but never fully materialized. However, those writers have passed, the stories are now in the public domain, and I'm reasonably certain everyone else on the planet has forgotten he exists. So I have adopted him, am writing a novel to complete his beautiful story, and generally refer to him as my oc at this point. (His trail partner, Sonny, is also adopted by me; everyone else in the novel will be true ocs.)

I would love to hear about your cowboy! 🤠

[bratbarzal]

I actually can't believe I've written almost 115k words of a fic since the end of July who am I what am I on

[daz4i]

it can be funny here and there but seeing constant jokes, art, fics etc feminizing the same (very much not feminine) guy in a m/m ship makes me think these people just want a straight ship and somehow ended up here instead 😭

[probably-voldemort]

Update:

I am fully caught up on my course and have nothing else due for it until Friday next week so (theoretically but like incredibly optimistically hopefully) I should have time this week to get the next chapter of darling finished and posted

[jaeminvore]

What If I just post Jeno's fic on his birthday 😭 it's a time like this where I desperately wish that I was a fast writer like I used to be when I was younger but noooo the trials and tribulations of being an adult stops me from being just that </3