do not go gentle into that good night
be a bit of a bitch about it
can't in good conscience leave this out
Sweet Seals For You, Always
Peter Solarz

blake kathryn
trying on a metaphor
tumblr dot com
d e v o n

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
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we're not kids anymore.

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taylor price
almost home
will byers stan first human second

Origami Around
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if i look back, i am lost
Sade Olutola
wallacepolsom

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
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@kelsoo16
do not go gentle into that good night
be a bit of a bitch about it
can't in good conscience leave this out
SHANE & ILYA + parallels
Yuna and David having watched their autistic son be so isolated all of his adult life and never having a happy relationship or close friends who understand his anxiety and then finding out that the man they’ve spent a decade hating on his behalf can casually talk him down from a panic attack in less than a minute
The phone vibrates for some time now. Hen, Chim, and Ravi watch it slowly vibrate off the edge and hit the floor with a good smack.
Ravi winced as his eyes flickered to Eddie, who sat there rubbing his forehead and sighing.
"You, uh, gonna get that?" Ravi asks.
"Nope," Eddie says, relaxing further in the chair and kicking his feet up. "Where the hell is Buck? Thought he'd be here by now," the man says. They were at a small get-together at Maddie's and Chim's.
"So, who are you exactly ignoring?" Hen asks.
"Nobody," Eddie says.
Hen huffs. "Right, and I'm a straight woman."
The phone then starts a series of singular brr-brr.
"That, my friend, is a group chat," Chim says, waltzing in the living area with drinks. "What other group chat are you also in, Diaz? Are you cheating on us?"
Eddie laughs. "No, no it's just-" another single vibration. "My cousins, and sisters. They're trying to get me to come over."
"Oh?" Hen asks, raising an eyebrow.
"Are you not on good terms with them?" Ravi asks, curious about the man's family.
"I am," Eddie sighs. "They all caught wind of me coming out, you know? And by wind, I mean my mom calling every single family member and telling them what I told them,"
"Ooo, damn," Hen winces. "Do you think they wouldn't...?"
"No, no, they wouldn't care. My cousin Alysia has a wife. Still, I'm a little nervous. I didn't get the chance to tell them, and so I'm avoiding them. And I don't want the date set-ups to start again," Eddie groans.
"Well, it doesn't seem to be working," Maddie says with a sigh. "Baby Nash is down for a nap. "Thanks again for the white noise machine, Hen. I was freaking out when our old one stopped working so suddenly."
"Hey, not a problem. We have a few in the closet, so it's no bother."
Another vibration, but this time it was a different pattern. Eddie perks up, reaching over for his phone. "That's Buck."
"I'm not going to even comment on the fact that he set a different pattern just for Buck," Chim says, amused.
Eddie quickly sits up, alert. "What the fuck--" he says, panicking. Everyone whips their heads over to Eddie, all concerned.
"What?"
"Did something happen to Buck?" Maddie says, worried. She pulls her phone out."
"He just messaged me help sos, but left a crying emoji," Eddie says, confused. "Jesus Christ my cousins and sister left so many messages," the man mutters. Eddie notices a voicemail left by his cousin.
He sighs, ignoring it and clicking on the voicemail Buck left.
"I have been taken against my WILL," the voicemail Buck left says.
Maddie tilts her head at her brother's tone of voice. Not panicking enough.
A woman laughs, "You came willingly!"
"I-I did not--" the voicemail ends.
Eddie glares at the screen.
That laugh.
"That was my fucking sister," Eddie hisses. He scrolls back to his voicemail logs, clicking on the previous one he had ignored from his cousin.
"Ahhhh!!!!! Baby Primo!!! Come on, don't ignore us!! We just wanna hang out. It's been forever, and I feel like we haven't done that in a while--hang you know? We got a party going on, ama making some food, managed to get your sister here too, but she said you wouldn't come unless we had something to get you to come over. Usually, abuela works, pero you know she's in Texas right now for a small trip," his cousin, Fernando, says.
Oh. Oh no.
"I don't like where this is going~" Chim says, looking at Eddie amused.
"Oh no," Eddie mutters in horror.
"So we got your gringo here!" Fernando cheers. "It was easy, man."
Another voice chimes in. "Yeah, all Sophia had to do was show up at his place and wave baby pictures of you, you know, the one where you were all cute and chunky--" Alysia, his cousin, says.
Eddie's face turns red. He glares at Hen and the others, who were all too amused by the events unfolding. Hen looks like she really wants to see those photos.
She was going to probably get those photos one way or another.
Alysia continues. "He was confused about who we were until he spotted Adriana and Sophia, probably from family photos you have in your house. Soon as he saw your baby photo, he was all happy, smiling away. Swear his eyes lit up and everything."
"They manhandled me into the car!" Buck's voice says in the background.
"He's kinda right. Sophia actually manhandled him into the car. Said something about it being chilly and that we should all sit in the car." That. That was his sister, Adriana. "He was like, 'okay.'"
"They're lying!" Buck cries out.
"You keep that up, and I'm not showing the videos," Adriana threatens.
Silence.
"Thought so," She huffs,
Jesus Christ.
"Anyways, you know where mi mama is, we're all at her place. We'll wait for you. Don't worry, I think ama is going to keep him busy in the kitchen. We'll feed him, too. He looks like he needs a few tacos," Fernando mutters.
The voicemail ends.
And a headache starts forming for Eddie.
"Did-Did your family just kidnap my brother?" Maddie asks.
"Is it kidnapping if he went willingly?" Chim says. "I mean, leave a trail of Eddie's baby photos, and Buck will go anywhere."
"I don't blame him. I kinda want to see those photos too," Hen says.
Eddie sighs, getting up. "I gotta go,"
"Have fun!" Chim snorts.
Hot Writers Don't Gatekeep
the writers REALLY liked my artist resource post, so I thought i'd give y'all my dragon hoard of things i use for writing
Reverse Dictionary, you type in the meaning of a word, and it gives you a bunch of words that mean that. (MY MOST IMPORTANT OFFERING IN THIS LIST)
Slang Dictionary, what it says on the tin.
Anglish Translator, Anglish is if English evolved without borrowing from other languages and it really itches my brain (Anglish is if english grown without borrowing from other languages and it truly itches my brain)
Incorrect Quotes Generator, Put character names in, and incorrect quotes come out. Really fun way to goof around with your characters' dynamics.
Handspeak, an ASL dictionary
Library of Babel, Odds are, the finished version of your wip is in here somewhere
The best fantasy map maker i have ever used
Glitch Text Generator is one I use A Lot, does ť̷̨̢͓̤͔̤̤̝̺̯̄̔̄̌̄͗͒͋͂͋͝ḩ̵̼̜͍͚͕̏̓͊̈̉̆̄͐́͗͒̈̃̊̚͜i̵̻̐̇̎̏̀̋̌̃̇̿͘̚s̴̮̔̂̇͒͑͝͝ͅ to your text
Totally not bootleg microsoft office
Emotions Thesaurus a guide for writing emotions and their associated body language
Mythcreants, has a whole bunch of stuff you can read to learn more about the technical aspects of writing
A decent article talking about what to think about when creating a language
Trope Talks, particularly good for beginner and younger writers or people who have a hard time reading. Honestly this whole channel is a fantastic format to get information into my adhd rattled brain.
FOR MY AO3 BESTIES! Postimages will host your image forever so you can embed it into your work
Ambient Chaos, sometimes the only thing in the world that can kick your brain into writing mode is nuclear sirens and lofi beats
Radioooooo, play a station from any place and year. Particularly helpful for period pieces.
Food timeline, when foods were invented
holy shit i’ve never seen it explained this way but this, this is it. i’ve never understood why family/friends tell me they’re proud of me for doing something because i don’t feel accomplished; i just feel relieved
I can't stop thinking about Buck barely showing any signs of grief, so I wrote this. Buddie, 1.2k, T, sad sad sad.
---
Something’s wrong with Buck.
Of course something’s wrong with Buck. Something’s wrong with all of them. Something’s wrong with Eddie, his thoughts a tornado of sorrow and regret, his heart a throbbing bruise in his chest.
But something’s really wrong with Buck. Something that went from confusing to concerning to terrifying in the time it took to drive from the airport back to South Bedford Street and throw his bag down on the couch and follow Buck into the kitchen, watch him make tea for both of them. Something Eddie forgot about during the funeral, too busy choking on his own grief. Something that bubbles back to the surface now that they’re home and alone, the quiet of the house settling around them.
“You want anything to eat?” Buck asks as he hangs his hat by the door, starts pulling off his jacket. “I made a lasagna last night, but I could cook something else.”
“Buck,” Eddie says. He reaches for him, but Buck’s already heading for the kitchen, tossing his jacket over a chair on the way.
i hate to admit this but i think if i were in a bad mood and spongebob were around i wouldnt be able to navigate that situation with the patience or grace it demands. and i worry he would blame himself
im no better than squidward
this is such an unbelievable scene because there's two realizations happening simultaneously:
eddie is having the realization that he was never really alone through this whole ordeal and there has always been a we with him and buck.
while on the other hand, buck is having the realization that in the end he truly always just ends up back where he started. alone.
Kiss prompt 35? 😘😘
and that’s a wrap on all the kiss prompts in my inbox <3 thank you so much for indulging my silly little domestic fantasies for these silly little boys!
as requested by an anon after i posted that very first prompt... i give you firehouse proposal :’)
35. a kiss that leaves you breathless
ao3
“Should I just bring the list with me?” Buck asks with his head poked inside the fridge. “We can swing by the store on our way home—we finished the eggs last night and I think I’ve run out of oat milk too?”
He closes the fridge, takes a step towards the pantry to check.
Eddie swallows his mouthful of dry cereal. “You have. It’s already on the list.”
Buck detours to press a kiss to the top of Eddie’s head instead. “Thanks, babe. I was thinking spaghetti and quesadillas and this sriracha cauliflower that looks real easy—oh, and we need to make something for Christopher’s bake sale, too.”
“Oh, we need to, do we?”
“Eddie.” Buck looks at him, imploringly. “You know what those PTA moms are like. I couldn’t say no!”
“You literally run into burning buildings for a living.”
“Yeah, and I’d rather do that.”
Eddie rolls his eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Uh huh, and what does that say about you, then?” Buck’s gone to the pantry after all, and is rummaging through their supply of canned veg. “You’re the one who puts up with me.”
“It’s not.” Eddie’s throat sticks. It’s this fucking cereal. “It’s not some—hardship, Buck, you—you’re not something I put up with.”
“Sure.”
“Buck.” His boyfriend looks up from the spice rack, a certain softness to the furrow in his brow. Eddie wants to smooth it away and kiss the faintly sun-spotted skin in its wake.
“Hey, no, I know,” Buck says, hooking his ankle around the chair beside Eddie’s and tugging it out from the table to sit, a tangle of limbs and long lines. He takes Eddie’s hand, the one not holding his spoon, and laces their fingers together, criss-cross. “Sorry. Bad joke.”
“Yeah, well,” Eddie manages to say, and thunks their foreheads together, just this side of too rough, and folded into a pair of Captain America socks in the corner of Eddie’s dresser is a velvet box he hasn’t opened since the day he bought it, three weeks ago, and every time he’s looked at Buck since those words have sat, tingling, jostling like horses out from the starting gate, on his tongue. Every touch, every glance, feels like he’s giving it away but Buck carries on, oblivious, or otherwise a very good liar, and the racing in his coltish heart dies down, just a little, enough to tilt his head and press the corners of their mouths together like the dog-eared page of a book Eddie already knows the ending to. “What’s new?” he asks against Buck’s lips and feels, more than sees, Buck’s grin.
“Oh, I see how it is. Just for that,” and Buck pokes him in the arm, “you can take the next PTA meeting.”
“Ouch.”
“You have no idea.”
I do have some idea, Eddie wants to say, but the words get stuck somewhere in his throat. I do have some idea because for years I went to those meetings alone, and I sent Chris to school with store-bought sugar cookies I read the allergen notice on ten times before buying, and I didn’t think about all the pieces in my life that were missing until you filled them without question. Until you brought home baking powder and almond meal and cooking chocolate and desiccated coconut and showed me how to fold in the flour, your hand over mine on the wooden spoon. Until you kissed me in our kitchen, choc chip batter in your hair, and clutched at my elbows so tight you creased my shirt.
“Hey,” Buck says, in that same kitchen, pressing his knee into Eddie’s like it belongs there, “where’d you go?”
Home, Eddie wants to say. “Nowhere. Just thinking.” Buck hmms. His hair looks blonde and so fine, like Christopher’s, in the stuttering filtered sunlight. “You want the rest of my cereal?”
If you have Spotify reblog this and tag what your number one song on your “on repeat” playlist is.
Andreil ice cream date 🍦
This was supposed to be a sketch, but that obviously didn't work out.
Bucky Barnes sketch!