#sort of fic

[likeshipsonthesea]

"Sing the bread song, Lola," Trinity would say as she played with the wrinkles on the back of her lola's hand, cuddled up to her lola's side in bed.

Her lola would tsk, turn her hand over to fold her fingers around Trinity's smaller, smoother, paler ones. "Is that how you talk to your lola?" she would say sternly. She would look heavenward and lament, "No manners in this child, none at all."

Trinity would turn her face into her lola's soft stomach to smother her smile. Her lola would smell of dishsoap and coconut, from dessert and the clean-up afterward. Trinity had helped. She couldn't help wash the dishes because the hot water hurt her hands--Lola would rap her knuckles if she tried to reach for the sponge, insist that Trinity keep her dainty hands work-free as long as she could--but Trinity could help with the drying. Lola sang as she worked, and Trinity would stand beside her on a little stool and dry the dishes Lola cleaned, singing along as best she could to whatever song Lola chose.

"Please, Lola," Trinity would say, wrapping her arms around her lola's middle and squeezing herself impossibly closer.

Lola would hmph, mutter under her breath too fast and quiet for Trinity to translate, as she curled her arm around Trinity in turn. "Fine," she would finally say, "but only once, and then you go to sleep."

Trinity shut her eyes. Her lola's belly would expand against Trinity's cheek with her breath, the sound of air rustling against Trinity's ear. Lola's chest rumbled as she started to sing and, with Trinity wrapped around her, Trinity's body would buzz with the vibrations. She imagined a warm cloud of friendly bees had encompassed them both.

"Ili ili, tulog anay," her lola sang. "Wala diri imo nanay."

Trinity wouldn't think about her mother working late again at the cold, grey office, with its floor-to-ceiling windows and uncomfortable chairs.

Instead, Trinity would think about her mother at the store, spending hours deciding on the perfect bread and treats for them to share. She would think of helping her mother carry in the groceries, as many bags as she could handle without dropping them, how proud her mother and lola would be of her strength. She would think of her lola's wrinkled hands stirring the coconut milk at the stove, and her mother at the table, swishing her hands through the rice to clean it, humming along to the songs lola sang because she didn't know the words. Maybe I could teach her, Trinity would think. Maybe I could get her to sing along.

"One more time," Trinity would say as the song inevitably ended. As an afterthought, she would add a, "Please."

Lola would grumble and mutter and shift on the bed, pulling Trinity further into her side. "This is the last time," she would insist, but it wouldn't be, and Trinity would undoubtedly fall asleep to the warmth of her lola's voice.

[roseunspindle]

Dean Highbottom had not thought he could hate the Snow boy more than he already did.

He'd gotten rid of him! Sent him to the districts! He was reduced to nothing.

Only the boy bribed his way to 12, not 8. Then the Plinth heir went a followed Snow. Into the Peacekeepers and into 12.

Then something happened. Rebels ran off with the girlfriend of a "rebel" the mayors daughter was killed... the "Covey" also left. Leaving only Miss Lucy Gray Baird behind, evidently devastated by their abandonment. Stefano Plinth wasted no time bringing his son back to the Capitol, and evidently the boy couldn't leave without Snow who'd managed to earn his way up to Seargeant training in less than a damn summer...

And he wasn't keen to leave without Miss Baird.

The Capitol was delighted to welcome their Songbird back, and the lively girl flanked always by the Snow and Plinth boys certainly made for a vision.

Highbottom couldn't figure out Snow's precise angle or how he was involved in the rebels or escaping Covey (supposedly he'd been seen on a "secret" date with the singer girl during that time, young Plinth working in the medbay. Yet Highbottom knew they were involved!

N

Snow went and became Gauls apprentice. Then heroically uncovered Gaul using Capitol citizens as test subjects when she couldn't find anyone else.

The Dovecote girl all but clinging to him as she showed her remaing scales from a snake bite courtesy if Gaul only added to Snow's charm somehow.

Dovecote and Miss Baird had even been spotted shopping together on numerous occasions afterwards.

Gaul tried to run. Her many mutations attacked people.. .

And that dambed Snow boy used her as an example of "Capitol citizen overstepping". Where she "hid behind righteous anger to only be cruel".

The public adored him.

Even Highbottom leaking information of his cheating backfired. Obviously he was a young man in love with the captivating Lucy Gray. Love was love and well... who wouldn't cheat to save someone they loved?

It brought into question the games of course.

Plinth speaking softly of the children of district 12. Of a worry that the games, while effective now, would let another Gaul develop in the shadows. A threat to the Capitol citizens as well as district.

Snow popped up after, arm supporting the doe-eyed Plinth heir... "he'd seen intelligence in the district children. Why didn't they all love Lucy Gray?

Why make the children kill each other... when instead they could change the nature of the competition. Make them stretch their minds to new heights. The "Victor" perhaps gaining a small place in the capitol...

He has to watch that wretched, soulless young man marry three damn people. Change the games that had haunted Highbottom for over a decade into a fierce battle based competition that resulted in zero deaths and actually added in the improvement of the Capitol's military ideas.

And ensured bright district minds became the capitol's bright minds.

Snow becomes president. To the genuine celebration of even the districts. Young Plinth having started pushing his families wealth into medicine and food... which was available to all for affordable prices.

[likeshipsonthesea]

“Buck?”

No one responds. Eddie lets the loft door close behind him and slides the plate of semi-cold waffles onto Buck’s countertop. A quick glance into the couchless living room reveals no sign of Buck, but Eddie knows he passed Buck’s Jeep in the garage, so he’s got to be here. He takes two steps toward the staircase before he hears the shower shutting off, so he shoves his hands in his pockets and waits.

Buck emerges with a cloud of steam and a towel around his waist, his shoulders pink from the heat and his hair naturally curled. He doesn’t startle as he notices Eddie at the bottom of his stairs. He just says, “Hey.”

“Hey,” Eddie says. “Put some clothes on. I brought you waffles.”

Buck scrunches up his face. “Why?”

“I think the words you’re looking for are “thank you,”,” Eddie says. He gestures in the general vicinity of Buck’s dresser. “Get a move on, before I get hungry and eat them first.”

It’s a testament to how Buck must be feeling that he doesn’t snark back, just does as Eddie says.

Two minutes later, Buck joins him downstairs. He settles down at the counter in front of the waffles but stares at them instead of picking up the fork Eddie so kindly got out for him.

“You use that shiny thing to put pieces in your mouth,” Eddie coaches, leaning against the cabinet opposite Buck. Buck looks up and, now that he’s closer, Eddie can tell that the redness around his eyes isn’t from the shower. “Eat, Buck,” Eddie says quieter, gentler. “You’ll feel better with a full stomach.”

Buck eats. Eddie watches. Ever since Eddie met him, Buck’s eaten like a car crash, where you don’t want to watch but you can’t make yourself look away. He swallows plates whole and goes back for seconds before you can even make a dent in your own portion. It’s admirable, and useful since their meals are so often interrupted by calls.

Now, though, he eats slowly. He chews each bite fully before swallowing. Cuts pieces methodically, stares them down before putting them in his mouth. Buck usually loves waffles, but he doesn’t seem to be enjoying these.

Eddie keeps his arms crossed over his chest, hands twitching to do--something. He’s not entirely sure what, which is why he keeps them around his biceps and doesn’t let himself reach out. When Buck finally finishes, Eddie puts his plate and fork in the sink and then bullies Buck out of his chair.

“What now?” Buck says, grumbles even, as he sways slightly on his feet.

“It’s time for a nap.” Eddie nudges him in the direction of the stairs, staying behind him as they start to ascend.

“I can take myself up to bed,” Buck says, but doesn’t offer any resistance to Eddie’s guidance.

“I know you can.” Eddie’s expecting more of a fight, but Buck just leaves it there, and they reach the top of the steps without another word. Eddie bothers Buck into bed and possibly pushes a bit too far by covering Buck with his comforter and basically tucking him in. Thankfully, though, Buck’s eyes close as soon as his head hits the pillow. “Get some rest, bud.”

“Thanks, Eds,” Buck mumbles as he turns his face into the pillow.

Eddie watches him for a few long moments. His wet hair curling softly around his ears, the way his eyelashes pillow on the top of his cheeks, his lips parting barely as he falls further into unconsciousness. “Of course,” Eddie says, so quietly he doubts Buck can hear.

“Hmm. Hey, Eddie?”

“Yeah?”

Buck frowns slightly, his eyes still closed. “Have you figured it out?”

Eddie lifts his eyebrows, even knowing Buck can’t see it. “Figured out what?”

“How to be happy.”

Something twists in Eddie’s chest. The same thing that makes him want to reach out, the same thing that makes him want to slip into bed behind Buck and hold him until he’s snoring horribly, the same thing that has to bite its tongue every time it wants too much too quickly.

“Yeah,” Eddie eventually says, his voice rougher than he’d meant it to be. “I think I might’ve.”

Buck hums thoughtfully. “In the morning,” he says, “will you tell me?”

Eddie nods to himself. “Alright, Buck,” he says. “In the morning.”

He stands there until Buck starts snuffling snores into the pillow, and then lets himself out as quietly as he came in.

[likeshipsonthesea]

wip wthursday

oopsies i’m late, but ty for tagging me @prettyboybuckley i fucking love your snek pek, everyone go look at it it’s beautiful

tagging (with no pressure but if you wannaaa) @somaybeamystery @brassm @mooshkat @mothy-moo @deafgaynerd @child-of-wonderland @sadieyuki

under the read more is a snippet from my pre-canon eddie and buck 1.0 met on a hook-up app fic. a bit of smit w a dash of angst :))) warning for PTSD episode

Buck pulls away, leaving Eddie’s nipples swollen and glistening. His fucking obscene mouth stretches into a smile. “Still thinking about it?”

Eddie blinks for a few seconds to remember what Buck’s referring to. Just to be a shit, he says, “That’s the best you got?”

Buck’s smile turns sharp. Eddie hopes his responding shiver isn’t obvious.

Buck ducks back in, this time pressing into Eddie’s mouth so confidently it overwhelms him. Eddie can’t keep up with Buck’s mouth, licking past Eddie’s teeth, nipping at Eddie’s lips, all as he continues to torment one of Eddie’s nipples and brush teasingly everywhere but Eddie’s dick.

Eddie breaks eventually, huffing into Buck’s mouth with a complaining, “Buck,” and that’s when Buck’s hand drops between Eddie’s legs, his thumb pressing against Eddie’s taint.

“Jesus fuck,” Eddie swears. His hips jerk involuntarily and he’s abruptly overwhelmed with the desire for Buck to be inside him. They haven’t done that yet, closest they’ve come is Buck fingering himself as he blew Eddie, and Eddie’s done some tentative exploration on his own time, but fuck, he wants it now. He opens his mouth, too worked up to second-guess himself, ready to ask for what he wants when—

A gunshot.

Eddie jerks. The pressure above him gives but not enough. The gunshot rings in Eddie’s ears like helicopter blades. Sweat clings to his skin, his heart beats too fast in his chest, everything’s too loud and too quiet at the same time. Eddie’s trapped in his own skin, trapped between the weight above him and the ground below, and he just needs out.

The pressure above him finally gives fully and he shoots up off the ground, looking for cover, somewhere to hide from the gunshots, somewhere safe, but he can’t make sense of the terrain, he doesn’t remember—where’s his team, what’s his mission, where is he—

“Eddie.”

The next thing Eddie’s aware of is Buck’s face wrinkled in concern. He’s kneeling on the ground before Eddie, who has apparently backed himself against a wall and curled into a ball. Eddie blinks until any vestiges of the memory have left his mind, leaving just him, Buck, and the adult frat house where Eddie has just had a whole fucking episode.

“Sorry,” he says, quieter than he’d intended. “I didn’t—sorry.”

“Hey, don’t—no need to apologize. Just.” Buck worries at the inside of his lip for a moment. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Yes. I.” Eddie swallows. “That doesn’t usually. Happen.”

“I get it,” Buck says earnestly. “I worked with a guy in Montana who fought. He had stuff like this a lot.”

Eddie doesn’t know how to respond to that. He sort of wants to ask if Buck fucked that guy, too. He also wants to run out and never talk about this again. “I don’t.”

[likeshipsonthesea]

bc @frysquint gave me a wonderful birthday present of her wip wednesday fluffy kibble verse that everyone should go read, i thought i should balance it with a thursday wip wednesday that’s full of angst and pain :)))

warning for suicidal ideation and PTSD, basically eddie’s Stuff

           “But then what’s the point.” It bursts from Eddie’s chest like a bullet. “What’s the point of—of doing all this, if we’re all gonna die anyway.”

           Frank considers Eddie’s outburst, mind working visibly behind his eyes. Eddie stews in the moment, in the buzzing under his skin. Abruptly, Frank flips back a few pages in his notes. “Do you remember what you said, after you and Buck went to see Charlie?”

           Eddie shakes his head, but Frank’s not looking.

           “Giving Charlie a second chance was worth it,” Frank reads from the page. He looks up. “Saving people doesn’t mean saving them forever. But giving people another chance, giving people more time, that’s what matters.”

           The buzzing under Eddie’s skin doesn’t go away. He knows saving people is important, he knows everyone deserves that extra chance at life, no matter how they use it. He sees the value in doing the job. That’s not what has him vibrating inside his skin.

           Eddie thinks of Mills, of what those years between discharge and a bullet in the head must’ve looked like. If she knew how it was all going to end, would she have wanted Eddie to save her at all?

           Eddie stares at his lap, his thighs holding down his hands to keep them from shaking. If he knew how this was all going to end, would he have wanted to save himself?

           “I’m not talking about Charlie,” he says, and his voice is too quiet. He clears his throat. “I’m talking about me, I’m—” He swallows around nothing. “I could’ve died in Afghanistan. I could’ve died in an abandoned well. I could’ve died from a sniper. I’m just—constantly, I’m just dying. Almost dying. And if that’s all it’s gonna be, if that’s all it’s ever gonna be—” Eddie shakes his head, realizes his hands are shaking, too, no matter how hard he tries to smother them with his thighs. “Fuck, Frank, I don’t know if—”

           He doesn’t say it. Guilt fills his mouth like blood before the words can leave his lips. He could never do that to Christopher. He would never, even knowing he’d be safe with Buck.

[darkness-dreams-love-life]

Something

‘Shit!’ Melissa swore as she missed her mouth her wine dripping down her her chin.

Barbara swallowed hard as she watched the drop of liquid fallow the path from Melissa’s mouth down her chin, her neck and over her cleavage. It’s disappeared under the redhead’s shirt never to be seen again. Barbara couldn’t help but wish she could follow the trail with her tongue to trail her own way down the other woman’s body, to learn every curve, every inch.

‘You ok?’ Barbara looked up meeting Melissa’s questioning gaze.

‘Yep.’ She grabbed her own wine downing it quickly trying to calm her thoughts, her heart, her desire. She was a married woman, a woman of God but her eyes, her desire, her heart they wanted something more. Something right in front of her.

[likeshipsonthesea]

I saw ‘We were dancing but all of a sudden it’s a slow song and we’re standing here awkwardly staring at each other’ on the good part prompts and. If that isn’t nurseydex I don’t know what is. Just dropping in the obligatory I love your writing!! Thanks for sharing it with us!! at the end of this ask :D

i've actually fulfilled this exact prompt for nurseydex before lol! you can find it here. but in the spirit of the task, i decided to write a new one, but i saw this post and got inspired to try to fit it into 100 words, so you get an actual certified drabble for this prompt. short but sweet, hope you enjoy!

“We can—stop,” Nursey says, standing a foot away as couples around them sway to the unexpectedly slow rhythm, hands clasped, heads resting on shoulders, chests pressed to chest, and Dex decides—

No. So it’s his brother’s wedding. So he and Nursey have been dancing—ha—around one another for years now. So it’s 100% not the right time.

He wants. He wants Nursey close enough that he can’t feel anything but him. He wants to guide Nursey through a song neither of them knows, just for an excuse to be close.

He holds out his hand.

Nursey takes it.