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on-maars · 3 years

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I’ve never had a home (until you came around)

So I wrote a fic, it’s long so maybe you’ll be more comfortable reading it on ao3

Thank you @cyllaeth for being patient enough to re-read the whole thing (and also for being available 24/7 to freak out over these two)

It’s a quiet day. The station is silent and Buck is spread out on the couch, a book in his hand. A mystery book. Chimney recommended it to him the other day but Buck’s never been a big reader, for as long as he can remember. He finds it too hard, to stay focused and stay still for several hours in a row. He needs action. He needs to move, stay busy and as much as he would love to finish this book so he can share his opinions with his friend, today is just not the day.

He’s been feeling restless, fidgety during the whole day and of course it had to happen during one of his most boring shifts. Not that Buck doesn’t appreciate the silence. He does. It actually feels nice to have some time to rest and relax, for a change. He even managed to take a nap in the beginning of the afternoon but now that his batteries are recharged, he’s desperately waiting for a call.

He sighs and tries to bring his attention back to his book but gives up after a few seconds. He’s been reading the same paragraph for more than twenty minutes and if you’d ask him, he would be incapable of telling you what’s the main plot of the book. He sees the words, he reads them but it’s like his brain can’t process a single thing.

He lets the book fall on the couch and sweeps the room with his eyes. There’s Chimney, seated at the kitchen’s table, still reading the same parenting book, a highlighter in his right hand. Hen, who seems as focused as his friend – if not more – her eyes squint in concentration as she writes some words on her notebook, most likely still revising for her big exam coming up. There’s Bobby quietly busying himself in the kitchen, preparing lunch for the whole team.

And then there’s Eddie. Eddie, sprawled on the other side of the sofa, looking at Buck with an amused expression on his face. Buck raises his eyebrows at him in confusion but his best-friend just shrugs his shoulders and looks away.

“I’m bored.” Buck sighs, defeated.

“Just read your damn book, Buckley.” Chimney says from where he’s seated. “I can hear you wriggling on the couch for the past ten minutes, you’re making me nervous.”

Buck rolls his eyes and throws a pillow at his face before taking his cellphone out of his jean’s pocket. There’s a message from Carla and a big smile breaks in on his face when his eyes fall on a picture of a (more than unstable) Lego house, accompanied by a small text.

“Bucky, I just built a new lego house!! (this is Christopher)”

“Looking good, superman!”

“God I love that kid so much.” Buck says, the words coming out of his mouth of their own accord. This earns him a confused look from Eddie who instantly straightens up when Buck lends him his phone, and it only takes a few seconds for a soft smile to appear on his friend’s face as well.

“He just answered.” Eddie adds, handing him his phone back to him.

“Can you come home this week-end so we can build the fire station together?”

“You got it!”

“You can come over on Sunday if you want.” Eddie offers and Buck only nods, mirroring his smile.

“You know I can’t say no to my favorite Diaz.” He answers.

“You’re spoiling him too much.” Eddie reproaches him while nudging him playfully. And Buck doesn’t feel that restless anymore. He feels good, warm, and tries very hard to think about anything else but the intimacy he’s suddenly sharing with his best-friend, whether it be the way their knees touch, the way Eddie’s hand feels on his wrist, his thumb tracing slow circles on his skin, or the way his own heart pound against his chest, so hard and so fast he feels it might explode.

That moment only lasts a few seconds. A couple of minutes, at most, until they all gathered around the table to share lunch. The atmosphere is calm, serene, but Buck’s head is spinning and he’s afraid. Afraid to look up and catch Eddie’s eyes, afraid to do something that can give him away, afraid to say something which may be deemed inappropriate. Because the truth is, when it comes to his best-friend, he doesn’t know what is appropriate and what isn’t anymore. Their relationship has always been very intimate, sure, but it feels to Buck that it has just reached another milestone.

That’s why he’s not prepared when Eddie says these next few words.

“I asked her out. Ana. She said yes.” He says, and Buck’s mind goes blank.

She said yes. Of course she did – he thinks. Who would say no? Who would say no to his kind, sweet, caring and stupidly hot best-friend? They’d be crazy not to – he wants to say, but once again his words get stuck in his throat and he just fakes a smile instead. Faking smiles to avoid any awkward conversations. He can do that. He’s been doing that for years.

“You did?” Hen asks, his eyebrows raised, seemingly surprised.

“That’s… That’s cool man. I guess.” Chimney adds, but the whole atmosphere has changed. It’s not calm anymore. It’s dense, heavy, filled with a sense of bitterness no-one dares to question. It’s common knowledge now that Buck is helplessly and desperately in love with his best-friend, it’s not a secret and Buck gave up on trying to hide it from his colleagues a long time ago. After all, he’s never been very good at keeping this kind of things to himself, never been very subtle, but Eddie is Eddie and Buck doesn’t know if his best-friend’s inability to see the signs comes from a place of denial or simple obliviousness, but what’s the point now? He’s moving on.

“Buck?” Eddie asks and Buck jumps with surprise. He looks up at his best-friend and smiles widely.

“That’s awesome man.” He says, and tries to muster all the confidence he can get, but that’s a wasted effort and his best-friend is already watching him with confusion. Confusion and worry.

“Are you okay?” He asks. And Buck wants to shake his head no. Because of course he isn’t, but what can he say? It’s too late, now. And so he just clears his throat and gets up, ignoring the way Hen looks at him with compassion. “I- I just need some air.” He says, turning around, but stops dead in his track when Eddie’s hand stops him from getting further by encircling his wrist, softly.

“Hey.” Eddie says and his voice is so soft Buck wants to scream. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine. I just need- I just need some air.” He repeats, and rushes down the stairs.

He steps out of the station and keeps walking until he reaches a small bench. He sits down and takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He looks up at the sky, his eyes bright with tears he’s been trying to hold back for the past ten minutes.

“You’re okay, Buck?” Bobby asks from behind, and Buck quickly wipes his tears with the sleeve of his jacket, turning his head around to hide himself from his Captain.

“I’m fine.” He says. “I’m fine.”

“Hey, none of that with me, alright?” Bobby adds, and takes a seat next to him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Why don’t you just tell him, kid?”

“I never thought I needed to.” Buck answers. And that’s probably the worst part. For a year now, he was convinced that him and Eddie were on the same page. There seemed to be a secret agreement between them and that was enough for Buck.

We’re not together officially but god forbids we date anyone else. That was the deal. Or so he thought. They were raising his son together. Buck was Christopher’s emergency contact, they were practically living together, the signs were there and they were clear. How could Eddie not see them?

“Maybe it’s time you use a more direct approach.”

“I’m not so sure how more direct I can be, Bobby. The guy’s just clueless. I’m pretty sure I could tell him I love him to his face and he would still find a way to make it sound completely platonic.”

Bobby huffs out a laugh. “You really do, don’t you? Love him, I mean.” He asks with a small smile. “I thought it was just a crush but it’s a lot more than that, isn’t it?”

Buck stares at Bobby for a few seconds, until he lowers his head with a sheepish smile.

“Of course it’s more than that.” He says. “Bobby, Christopher and Eddie… They’re it for me. There’ll never be anyone else, I mean it’s Eds, you know? He’s… He’s my soulmate.”

“Then don’t give up until it’s too late, alright?” Bobby answers, holding his gaze. “Cause trust me you still have time.”

Buck doesn’t answer anything and keeps his head down. They sit together for a while until the bell rings. And just like that, Buck puts his feelings aside and focuses on the task at hand.

---

It turns out Ana is great, and that’s probably the worst part now that Buck thinks about it. It would have been easier not to be on board with their relationship if she was inconsiderate, insensitive or straight-up rude. But no. She’s sweet, caring and nothing but kind to him and Buck doesn’t even find it in him to hate her. Eddie seems to love her a whole lot already and if his best-friend loves her, then he owes it to him to be happy for him, right? It only makes sense. What kind of friend would he be otherwise? What kind of friend would that make of him? A poor one, to say the least.

He’s seated at the table in Eddie’s kitchen, Christopher by his side. This one has been strangely quiet for the whole dinner and Buck wonders whether he missed out on something. He’s nibbling at his peas, his eyes fixed on his plate and his usual very cheerful demeanor has been replaced by a sullen one. His shoulders are slumped, but not by choice, Buck knows that kid well enough to see that something is bothering him, something so big he seems to struggle to carry the weight on his own.

“So Buck.” Ana starts and Buck looks up at her with a smile. “How did you two meet?”

“Oh uh we met at work.” He says, finding it weird that she doesn’t already know the answer to that question. “He was a new recruit.”

“He used to hate me.” Eddie says with a smile, nudging him playfully.

“Shut up, I didn’t hate you I was just feeling-”

“Threatened?” Eddie cuts him off, mocking him. Buck huffs out a laugh and cradles his chin with his right hand to make him look away. Because there’s really no need for his best-friend to notice how his cheeks start to redden now, is there?

“You think you’re so funny.” He adds.

“Bucky is dad’s best friend.” Christopher says out of the blue, holding his fork tight around his fingers, his eyes fixed on Ana.

“I thought I was yours!” Buck exclaims, faking being hurt by pressing his hand over his mouth in shock. This earns him a small laugh from Christopher who vigorously nods.

“Well his second best-friend, then.” He corrects himself. “And they love each other very much.” He adds, firmly, almost as if he’s trying to prove a point. Buck frowns for a few seconds but eventually nods at him, making sure Christopher knows he agrees with him on every point.

“We’re all very close.” Buck adds, conversationally.

“The 118 really is like a big family, isn’t it?” Ana asks. “Edmundo talks a lot about you guys.”

Edmundo. That may be the only thing Buck doesn’t like about her and from the way Eddie flinches next to him, he suspects he’s not the only one. He only hums approvingly and lets his eyes fall on his best-friend. He finds it weird, how Eddie acts around Ana. He finds it weird and unsettling. And at first, Buck only thought it was because he was meeting her for the first time and Eddie really wanted both of them to get along. Which made sense. They were best-friends after all, and Buck would probably feel the same way if he was in his shoes.

But now that he takes a closer look at him, Buck realizes that it’s not it. Eddie looks doubtful, hesitant, unsure, almost as if he’s dancing to another tune. He smiles and laughs and acts the same but something just feels off, wrong. It’s like he’s there but not quite, like his brain is working too fast and he has trouble catching up. His gestures lack of confidence, Buck can sometimes see him trying to reach out to Ana but his hand often stops midway, stays motionless for a few seconds until Eddie brings it back on his thigh, biting his lower lip. And Buck gets the willingness to impress the other person and makes sure that everything goes well, but it’s like Eddie is playing a character and that, Buck can’t get behind.

Ana is talking about her role as a vice-principal and Buck is only half-listening, not because the conversation isn’t interesting but because he’s too deep into his thoughts to focus on what she’s saying.

“Dad?” Christopher asks after a while, the slice of prune pie still left untouched on his plate. “Can I go back to my room?”

“Try and eat a bit before, alright?”

“I’m not hungry.” Christopher answers, and Buck holds back a smile when Eddie watches his son with a knowing look. You’re still hungry, you just don’t like the pie Ms Flores baked, don’t try to fool me. That’s what Eddie’s saying; Buck has become an expert in knowing how to understand non-verbal communication between the Diaz boys throughout the years and this time isn’t any different.

“Fine I just don’t like it, it’s gross.” Christopher says, his voice indifferent.

“Christopher!” Eddie exclaims, pointing the finger at him.

“I’m going to my room.” He repeats, getting up and leaving the kitchen without looking back. A heavy silence slowly settles in the kitchen and Buck wastes no time to get up as well.

“I’m gonna check up on him.” He says, placing a comforting hand on Eddie’s shoulder, not missing the way all the tension seems to melt away from his body at the touch.

Buck stands up and lets his hand linger a bit more on Eddie’s back, leaving the kitchen with a sigh. When he gets to Christopher’s room, this one is seated on the ground, his back facing him. A few books are lying around next to him and a whole box of Legos has been spilled on the carpet. Buck takes a few steps forward and knocks on the door a few times, smiling at him when Christopher looks up.

“Hey, is it okay if I come in?” He asks, waiting for Christopher to nod to sit down cross-legged next to him, leaning his back on the bed. “You okay in there, buddy?”

“No.” Christopher’s voice is low and filled with an animosity Buck’s not used to hear.

“What’s going on?”

“I don’t like her.” He says, and Buck frowns.

"You don’t like Ms Flores?” He asks, and Christopher nods again, sticking two Legos bricks together. “Why? I thought she was your favorite teacher, back then.”

“She was. I like her as a teacher, not as dad’s girlfriend.” He says. “I don’t understand why she needs to be around all the time. I like it better when it’s just the three of us.”

“I like that too buddy but your dad and her like each other very much, you know? That’s why they’re spending so much time together. But I’m always going to be around, okay? The thing we have, the three of us? It’s not going to go away. I promise. I’ll always be there.” He explains, but from the way Christopher bites his lower lip and keeps his head down, he can see he’s still unsure.

“But I don’t think she makes dad happy, Buck.” He adds.

“You don’t?”

“No. Not as much as you do. He’s always so happy when you’re here. You make him smile, and laugh. I like him better when he’s with you. When he’s with her, he’s weird. He doesn’t act the same way, I don’t like it. And she always uses complicated words and the conversations are boring and she never plays with me. And she doesn’t know how to do the voices when she’s reading a story. You’re the only one who knows how to do it.”

Buck sighs and runs one of his hands through his hair, not knowing how to extricate himself from that situation without giving himself away. Because Christopher might be a kid but he’s far from being stupid, or naive.

“You tried telling what you just told me to your dad?” He tries.

“Why can’t you just be the one who stays?” Christopher asks and ignores his question. “I don’t understand why you can’t be the one who stays.” He repeats and his voice is louder than it was a few seconds ago. “We don’t need her with us, we need you.”

“Chris, your dad and I… We’re best friends. We’re best-friends and we like each other very much but sometimes… Sometimes, a person needs more. Sometimes, it’s not enough.” He says, closing his eyes to try and stay focused.

“But you’re enough!” Christopher says. “You are and I know dad thinks the same. He loves you.”

“He told you that?”

“He doesn’t need to, I just know.” Christopher shrugs his shoulders. “He’s more like himself when he’s with you. He’s smiling and laughing and he’s always looking at you the same way he used to look at mom when she was still around. He doesn’t look at her like this. He never did. And I hope he never does.” He adds and Buck lowers his head down, cursing himself mentally.

“Listen Chris, me and your dad, we… We can’t have what your mom and dad used to have.”

“Why?” He asks, confusion clearly shown on his face.

“Well, because I’m a man and-”

“But if he’s looking at you the same way he used to look at mom, why does it matter if you’re a man or not? My friend Amy at school, she has two dads. I know it’s possible, and you love my dad. I know you do.”

“I-” Buck tries but his words get stuck in his throat once again, and he never thought a nine-year-old kid would manage to back him into a corner like that and yet here he is. “It’s – It’s complicated, buddie.”

“It’s not. It’s only complicated because you’re an adult and adults always like to say that everything is complicated when they don’t want to explain stuff to kids. But it’s not. It’s easy. You’re always looking at him. When you come for the movie nights, you’re always the one who make dinner for us because we love your cooking. You hug him every time you leave our house and you do the same things with me that mom used to do. You’re helping me with my homework, you’re telling me a story every time I go to bed and you’re always making me feel better when I’m sad.”

“When did you become so smart?” Buck asks, wiping his tears with the back of his hand.

“So you do love him.” Christopher says. “You love my dad.” He adds, placing one of his hands on Buck’s cheek.

“I didn’t say that.”

“Yes but you said I was smart. If you think I’m smart, then it means I’m right. You love my dad.”

Buck huffs out a laugh and smiles when Christopher wraps both of his arms around his neck.

“If you love him, you should tell him.” He says. “Carla always tells me that if you love someone, then you should tell them.”

“And I should listen to Carla, right?” Buck asks.

“You should always listen to Carla.” Christopher rectifies. “That’s what my dad says.”

“Alright then.” He answers, tousling his hair. “Then I’ll try. I promise.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t tell him anything.”

–--

When Buck gets back to the living-room, Ana is gone and Eddie is back to his usual self. Disheveled hair, his sleeves rolled up and the few first buttons of his shirt unbuttoned. His posture is more relaxed and natural, the tension has disappeared from his shoulders and it’s like he’s breathing again.

He’s clearing the table and Buck joins him, wiping the plates and the silverware while Eddie handles the washing part.

“Ana left?”

“She did, I- I kinda asked her to, I wanted to make sure Christopher’s okay.” Eddie says, his voice filled with worry. “He doesn’t like her very much, does he?”

“It’s- It’s not that.” Buck says, trying to figure out what’s the best way to act right now. “He’s just… He’s just adjusting, Eds, and- you don’t need to rush into this, you know?”

“You think I’m rushing into this?” Eddie asks, looking up at him in search of reassurance.

Buck sighs and looks down at the plate in his hands, wondering what to say. Telling him the truth is not an option, at least not right now. He can see his best-friend’s head is filled with unanswered questions and doubts and the last thing Buck wants is to give him another reason to panic and overthink, and saying I’m in love with you and I really wish you would stop trying so hard to play a role that doesn’t look anything like you when you’re with her because it’s making me everyone uncomfortable is probably not the way to go.

“Maybe?” Buck says, carefully.

“Buck.” Eddie starts, exasperated. “Straight to the point, please?”

“Look, I… I just don’t understand what you’re trying to prove, here.” He answers, placing the dried plate in the cupboard.

“I’m not trying to prove anything, but Bobby told me I should start taking advantages of the opportunities that are right in front of me and that’s what I’m doing. I’m dating Ana. She’s nice. I like her.”

“Who are you trying to convince here, me or yourself?” Buck asks. “He really said that? Bobby, I mean? And you think he was talking about Ana?”

“Well if not her, who else? She was right in front of me during that call.”

Buck huffs out a laugh and shakes his head, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers. It’s like the universe is screaming at you. And you refuse to listen. That’s what he said to him that day and Buck has to refrain himself from repeating these exact same words.

“Listen Eds. All I’m saying is that you don’t need to pretend to be someone that you’re not when you’re with her. You shouldn’t have to do that for a relationship to work. And I get it. I do. I get the will to impress her but that’s not what this is about here, Eds.” He says. “Christopher sees it too, you know.”

Eddie whirls his head around. “He said that to you?”

“Not in these actual words.” Buck precises. “But that was the overall idea, I think.” He adds. “It’s a big change for him, I guess he just needs time to… To adjust.”

“Should I go talk to him?” Eddie asks and that’s just another thing that makes Buck want to scream. The way Eddie always comes to him for parental advice as if Buck’s as involved in raising Christopher as he is, as if Buck is as entitled as he is to take decisions concerning Christopher’s well being. It makes him hope for something bigger, makes him hope for something greater, makes him hope for something he knows he can’t have.

“I don’t know Eds.” He still says after a while. “He probably needs some time alone.”

“Alright.” Eddie agrees, leaning against the kitchen counter, the dish towel placed on his right shoulder. “Thanks.”

“Well I should probably head back.” Buck says with a smile. “I’m pretty tired and it’s a big shift tomorrow.”

“Drive safe.” Eddie answers and wraps his arms around his back to bring him closer. Buck rests his chin on his right shoulder and closes his eyes for a few seconds, sighing in relief. Because as much as he would like for them to stop being so intimate, a part of him is simply always going to be drawn to him, and when Eddie moves his hand from his back to his neck, letting his fingers play with the roots of his hair, Buck is pretty sure the universe is ganging up against him.

---

It starts slowly, so slowly Buck doesn’t really think anything of it, at first. After all, it’s only texts. Texts that Eddie doesn’t answer to, texts that Eddie ignores. It’s nothing much, nothing worth arguing over and the last thing Buck wants is to sound possessive or excessive, and so he says nothing.

But then days turn into weeks and it’s just not texts anymore, it’s calls that are ignored, movie nights that are canceled and Buck tries to stay calm, he tries very hard to stay calm and clear-headed but he can’t shake off the feeling that he’s being left out from what used to be his safe place. And that’s something Buck could have handled, that’s something Buck could have faced but what’s intolerable for him is that he promised Christopher that things would never change, that he wouldn’t go away, and yet that’s exactly what’s happening. And Buck hates himself for it.

“It’s not gonna last.” Hen says one day when they’re both seated at the kitchen’s table inside the fire station. They had shared a lunch together and Eddie had taken the opportunity to formally introduce Ana to the team. Nothing quite out of the ordinary – Buck thinks, if it isn’t for the fact that once again, Eddie didn’t look like himself the whole time Ana was there. “I mean don’t get me wrong Ana’s awesome but that’s just not gonna last.” She repeats, once Eddie left the station to walk Ana back to her car.

“Ditto.” Chimney only says as he’s taking a seat next to them. “There’s no chemistry there, trust me.”

“So it’s like that, now?” Buck asks with a knowing smile. “You have a kid and all of a sudden you’re an expert in loving relationships?”

“You really don’t need to be an expert to see that it’s not gonna work.” Hen intervenes. “What are your thoughts, Cap?”

“If this is something Eddie wants to pursue then we should trust his judgment.” Bobby says carefully but the hesitant expression on his face says otherwise.

“But?” Hen asks. “We get it you’re nice but tell us what you really think.”

“Well let’s just say when I told Eddie to take advantage of the opportunities that were right in front of him, I didn’t necessarily mean Ana.” He admits, his eyes on Buck.

Buck shrugs his shoulders and looks down with a sad smile. “Yeah no offense but I don’t think he got that part, Cap.”

“He will.” Bobby affirms.

“Yeah I’m not so sure about that.” Buck contradicts him. “She’s already more around than me and I- Look I promised Christopher I wouldn’t go anywhere cause he’s freaking out about the whole thing but this is exactly what’s happening right now. He’s moving on. And there’s no place for me there anymore, which – you know – it’s fine. I should have seen this coming. But it still hurts, and I don’t mind me hurting but I know Christopher’s hurting as well and that I- I can’t stand it, Cap. I just can’t.”

“Then tell him, Buck.” Bobby advises. “Tell Eddie.”

“Tell me what?” Eddie says from behind. Buck whirls his head around but it doesn’t seem like Eddie heard more than that and he lets out a relieved sigh.

“I just-” Buck stops mid-sentence and only goes on when Hen sends him an encouraging smile. “I was just wondering if we could do something with Christopher someday. It’s been a while and… Well I miss the kid.” He adds and Eddie’s face instantly softens.

“Of course we can. You have anything in mind?”

“Well there’s this space museum not far from here. It’s still a one hour drive but you know I- I figured we could give it a try.” Eddie smiles and instantly nods, taking his phone from his back pocket.

“Great. I’ll ask Ana if she’s down for it.”

As soon as these few words are out in the open, a heavy silence settles in the room. Buck bites his lower lip and looks down at his feet with a sigh, Chimney snorts and Hen lifts her hand to her forehead in embarrassment.

“… Or not.” Eddie says after he reads the room, putting his phone down on the table. “Just the three of us?” He asks and Buck looks up at him with a hopeful expression.

“If that’s okay.”

“Of course it’s okay Buck, I-” Eddie starts and sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “God, I’ve been an ass, haven’t I?”

Buck dismisses it with a hand’s gesture. “It’s okay.”

“No it’s not.” Eddie says, shaking his head. “It’s not and I’m sorry.” He adds. “Can you… Can you guys give us a moment?” He asks, and Hen instantly gets up and gestures at Chimney to do the same. When Buck turns his head, they’re both gone and Bobby is already seated in his office, probably busy with some paperwork. He’s alone with Eddie. “Alright I’m listening.”

“Listening to what?” Buck asks him, confused.

“Listening to you telling me how much I fucked up as a friend.”

“You didn’t fuck u-”

“Buck.” Eddie cuts him off, firmly resolved to hear what’s on Buck’s mind. Buck holds his gaze for a few seconds, looking for a way out, but looks down and sighs in defeat.

“Eddie it’s fine.” He says. “You were probably busy with Ana and I know what it’s like to have the impression that your life only resolved around the other person at first, it’s- As I said. It’s fine. And you know I probably should have seen thi-”

“No.” Eddie cuts in again, placing one of his hands on Buck’s shoulder. “You’re not getting out of that one by blaming yourself, okay? Now tell me. What did I do wrong?”

“You ignored my texts.” Buck says, shrugging his shoulders like it’s not a big deal but Eddie keeps staring at him and encouraging him to say more and what the hell? - Buck thinks. His best-friend is the one looking for confrontation here and he’d be damned if he didn’t take the opportunity to get it all of his chest. “You ignored my calls.” He adds. “You canceled movie nights two times because you had plans with Ana – which is fine cause you’re allowed to do that but damn Eddie, Christopher made me promise that I wouldn’t go anywhere, he made me promise that things wouldn’t change if you started dating Ana and look at us, now. I’m barely coming over to your house anymore. It’s been one week and a half since I last saw him and you know damn well that I love this kid like he was my own and I hate myself for letting him go through that.”

“What else?” Eddie asks, his eyes already bright with tears.

“You shut me out, Eddie.” Buck answers, looking up at him, his eyes filled with a determination that scares him. “You shut me out.” He repeats but slower, this time.

“And how did that make you feel?”

“Lonely.” Buck answers honestly. “Angry. Sad. Confused. But mostly lonely.”

“Why is that?” Eddie asks and Buck huffs out a laugh, looking up at him incredulously.

“What do you think?” He answers and his tone comes out harsher than he intended and Eddie looks up at him in surprise. “I’ve never had a home, Eddie.” He adds, and his voice breaks. “I’ve never had a home until you came around. Even with my parents I felt like a stranger in my own house. And I know I said that the 118 has always felt like a family to me and I mean it but you and Chris? You gave me a home, Eds.” Buck says. "I mean I- I love you, alright?”

“And we love you too.” Eddie answers, cupping his cheeks with his hands. “We do, and you’re always going to be a part of this family, okay? I promise. I’m sorry I acted like a jerk.” He adds, bringing his lips to his forehead and Buck swears he can feel his heart cracked open at the touch. “Listen I promised Ana I would get dinner with her tonight but how do you feel about spending some time with Christopher?”

“I’d like that.” Buck says with a smile.

“I promise I won’t be long” Eddie adds. “And tomorrow we can go to that space museum. Just the three of us. Deal?”

“Deal.”

---

When Eddie goes back home after their shit, he has to witness Buck breaking down in tears and hugging Christopher close to his chest. Christopher had his eyes closed and from the way he’s clinging on to Buck, there is no doubt in Eddie’s mind that Buck’s absence had left a large void in his son’s life. And his heart breaks at the sight.

Bucky you’re home – Christopher had said to him, his chin rested on his right shoulder.

You’re home – Eddie repeats quietly to himself as he makes his way over to Ana’s house. He knocks on the door a few times and smiles at her when she opens it, taking a step to the side to let him in. She guides him to the couch and immediately starts to talk about his day as a vice-principal, which is usually something Eddie would try and listen with the greatest attention, but not today. Not today. Today, Christopher and Buck’s words are being played over and over again in his head and Eddie’s mind is a thousand miles away from that room.

Bucky you’re home.

I’ve never had a home until you came around.

You and Chris? You gave me a home, Eds.

I’m not home – Eddie suddenly thinks to himself.

“I’m sorry?” Ana asks, confused and Eddie whirls his head around when he realizes he just said those words out loud. “You’re not home?”

And suddenly, everything makes sense.

Home. It became such a strange concept for Eddie along the years. A constant evolution. In the first few years of his life, home was wherever his parents were. His childhood house, a cabin in the mountains during Christmas’ holiday, a tent in the middle of the forest. It didn’t matter where he was, as long as he was there with his parents, and his sisters.

And then he met Shannon and suddenly the word ‘home’ wasn’t only resolving around his parents and his sisters anymore. It became a bit larger to include her and then Christopher. His son was already his whole world back then and Eddie would have done anything for him.

But then Afghanistan happened and his life in Texas started to be tainted by arguments and harsh words. And so Eddie fled, convincing himself that maybe the army could become his new home. But god, was he wrong, and he quickly was hit by the realization that he would never really be home if Christopher wasn’t by his side.

And sure he considers the 118 as his family but his home? His home is with Christopher.

Eddie doesn’t really know when Buck first entered into the equation.

Maybe it’s when he first met Chris and that these two instantly hit it off. Maybe it’s when Buckley-Diaz movie nights became a thing. Maybe it’s when Buck helped him build a skateboard for his son or maybe it’s when he saved him from a tsunami.

Maybe it’s a combination of all these examples and a thousand more, and to be perfectly honest Eddie doesn’t really care because Buck is there now and he doesn’t want him going anywhere.

After all, people always say that home is where the heart is.

And Eddie’s heart? Eddie’s heart is with Buck. With Christopher first, but then Buck.

So no. “I’m not home.” Eddie repeats, his eyes lowered to the ground. “I – I’m sorry Ana but I – I can’t do this anymore. Us. It’s not going to work. I wanted it to work and I thought it would but it won’t. I’m sorry.”

“Edmundo.” Ana sighs, placing her hand on his thigh.

“Eddie.” He answers. “It’s Eddie. Not Edmundo.” He adds. “I really am sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong. Hell, you’ve almost been perfect but-”

“But I can’t compete with him.” She finishes for him and Eddie whirls his head around, his eyes wide.

“How can you- you’ve only seen him twice.”

“Then it must really says a lot about what he feels about you.” Ana answers, smiling sadly. "He looks at you like you’re his whole world. And sometimes, you’re looking at him the exact same way.”

Eddie pinches the bridge of his nose and looks down, sighing. “I’m sorry.” He repeats. “I’m sorry I swear I didn’t mean to lead you on, I really thought I was doing the right thing. But I wasn’t, and to be perfectly honest with you, Ana, I haven’t – I haven’t really been myself around you. You make me nervous all the time and I feel like – I feel like I have to become someone else when I’m with you. At first I thought it was just the nerves of starting a new relationship but… But weeks passed and it’s still there. I’m trying too hard and I’m not sure – I’m not sure it’s the right way to go.” He admits. “With him, it’s easy. It’s always been easy and maybe that’s the problem. It’s always been so easy that I – that I never took the time to wonder if there was something more going on.”

“And there is?” Ana smiles at him and this time it’s not sad, it’s sincere, honest.

“I think so.” Eddie admits, huffing out a laugh. “Yeah. Yeah, of course there is. Definitely.”

“Then you should go tell him that.” Ana answers.

“I can stay.” Eddie instantly says. “We had planned this for a while and I”

“You want to be with him.” She cuts him off. “Edm – Eddie. I love you. But if your happiness lies with him then I’m not going to put myself between you and him. Go.” She adds, and seems taken aback when Eddie wraps his arms around her back. She rests her chin on his shoulder and lets herself enjoy the intimacy.

“We can finish that conversation anytime, alright?” Eddie says, standing up. “We could get a coffee next week and get everything off our chests once and for all. How does that sound?”

“That sounds good.” Ana smiles.

Eddie waves at her one last time and rushes out of the house. He steps in his truck and starts driving. His head is spinning and his heart is pounding against his chest but he’s never been so sure of anything in his life. This is what’s been missing. This is what’s been missing all these years. Buck. The missing part of the puzzle.

Eddie parks next to Buck’s car and stays motionless for a while before feeling brave enough to get out of his truck and walks towards his house. He stops at the front door and closes his eyes, only for a few seconds. He takes a deep breath and lowers the handle. He steps in and here he is. Buck. His best-friend is standing up behind the kitchen’s counter, seemingly busing preparing pizza dough.

It’s only when Eddie closes the door behind him that Buck looks up at him, his brows furrowed in confusion. “Eddie?” He asks. “I thought you had a date night with Ana.”

“I did.” Eddie says with a smile. He takes a few steps towards him. “I cut it short.”

“Why?” Buck is still frowning but Eddie can note a slight glimmer of hope crossing his eyes.

“She wasn’t the person I wanted to spend the evening with.” Eddie only says and before he knows it, he’s pressing Buck against the fridge, capturing his mouth in a hungry kiss. His left hand cradles his chin and he places the other on the back of his neck. A startled noise comes out of Buck’s mouth but it only takes him a few seconds to kiss him back with just as much passion, his thumbs on his cheeks and the rest of his fingers running through his hair. Eddie smiles against his lips and moves his hands from his face to his waist, bringing him closer.

When they break apart, Buck’s hair is disheveled, his cheeks red and his lips swollen and Eddie huffs out a small laugh, his right hand grabbing onto his shirt tight, his eyes closed.

“God I’ve been so stup-”

“Shut up.” Buck cuts him off by pressing their lips together another time. The kiss is gentler this time, slower, and when Buck pulls at his hair a bit, Eddie can’t stop a small whimper from slipping out past his lips. “Wait.” Buck says, pushing him a little by placing his hand on his chest. “What about Ana?”

“I broke up with her.” Eddie instantly says, chasing his lips another time but Buck is faster and stops him from doing so by changing their positions and being the one having him pressed against the fridge.

“Why?” Buck asks.

“Because I’m in love with you.” Eddie answers so simply and that seems to be enough for Buck who lashes forward and crashes their lips together and Eddie would lie if he said he didn’t like being pressed against the fridge like that. He moves his mouth from Buck’s lips to his jaw, his neck, but stops dead in his track when a voice resonates from behind.

“You did it.” Christopher says and they jump away from each other, getting the creases out of their shirts in embarrassment. Eddie’s eyes fall on Christopher but his son only has eyes for Buck. “You told him.” He adds and a large smile breaks in on his face.

“I did.” Buck answers and huffs out a laugh when Christopher comes to him and wraps his arms around his legs. He takes him in his arms and hugs him, his eyes still fixed on Eddie.

I’ll explain later – Buck mouths to him silently with a smile.

Eddie only nods and his face softens when Christopher buries his face in the crook of Buck’s neck. It only lasts a few seconds, though, and when his son’s eyes fall on him, a small laugh escapes his lips.

“Dad, you have flour all over your hair.” He says, and Eddie runs his hands in his curls, smiling when the white powder falls on the flour. Buck looks up at him and smiles apologetically at him but Eddie dismisses it with a hand’s gesture and wraps his arms around the both of them. He sighs in relief and breathes in the scent of Buck’s after shave and Christopher’s shampoo and thinks to himself:

This is exactly where I want to be.

“Welcome back home, Buck.”

#buddie #9-1-1 #buddie fic #911 #my writing #evan buckley #eddie diaz

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nazyalenskyism · 4 years

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Just Friends

Summary: Nikolai and Zoya are just friends... aren't they? | Zoyalai modern AU.

A/N: Zoya and Nikolai live in my mind, rent free at this point. Feedback is appreciated, and my ask is open if you ever want to talk or send prompts or anything! The fic is below the cut.

Ao3: Just Friends

“Hurry up! If you’re not here in,” she checked her watch, “four minutes, these freshmen are going to take your room.”

“Zoya, I’m almost there, just stall them!”

“How the hell am I supposed to--” he’d already hung up on her. Fantastic. She knew she should’ve booked the study room under her name, Nikolai was too eager of a student, he’d probably stayed behind to talk to his Professor about his favourite books concerning the lecture material. Nikolai may have been the one to curry favour and win hearts but at least she excelled at something he could never manage to master, being punctual. Squaring her shoulders she stepped towards the first years who were crowded around the door, probably counting down the seconds before the ten minute grace period was over so that they could snatch the room up for themselves. Not on her watch.

“Hey!” She snapped, her most imperious armor clicking into place. “What do you think you’re doing?” Zoya had long ago learned that people would believe what you had to say as long as you acted so confident in your convictions that you left no room for them to doubt you.

They all looked up at her, their mouths hanging open. Finally one of them mustered enough courage to spit out, “we’re waiting for the room to open up.”

“You’re Nikolai Lantsov?” Zoya drawled, letting her eyes sweep them from head to toe. They shrunk under her gaze, only one of them dared to respond.

“No but if he doesn’t show up in 2 minutes then we get his room.”

“Wait, we’re waiting for his room? I wanted to get a picture of him.”

This was new, so now they were treating Nikolai like he was a celebrity. “Well, you’re not getting his room, so get lost. And he doesn’t ‘take photos’ with anyone, his ego isn’t that inflated.”

“That’s where you’re wrong Nazyalensky, my ego is indeed quite that big.” With his wind tousled hair and suit, he definitely looked like a celebrity, and it was clear that the other students thought so as well.

“Unfortunately, she’s right about the pictures, sorry to disappoint.” He winked over his shoulder, swiping his ID and opening the door for Zoya. She entered as he said “if you’re looking to take pictures. I heard that Genya Safin is never opposed to that flattery.” He slid into the room firmly shutting the door while the students stood open mouthed. “You’re positively glowing Zoya, how was your presentation?”

“I’ve found that putting children in their place does that for my complexion. It was perfect as always, yours?”

“Perfect as always,” he grinned at her. Leaning back in his chair, he loosened his tie with one hand, while opening his laptop with the other. “So, Nazyalensky, I was thinking…”

“You do that?”

“Yes, and I do it better than most. But that’s how I do everything Zoya, you should know that by now. I was thinking that since we’re already dressed up, what if we get dinner at that fancy restaurant on the waterfront?”

Zoya’s head shot up, she’d been wanting to go there for months, but all her friends had wanted to go with their significant others, and you had to reserve a spot weeks ahead of time.

“We can’t, we don’t have a reservation.”

“Yes we do.”

“Nikolai, you just brought up these plans, even if you’d been thinking about them all day, there’s no way you could’ve gotten a reservation today. Even you don't have that much money or sway.”

“I may have made it a few weeks in advance.” In response to her confused look, he continued, “I know you like to spend your birthday alone, but I still wanted to celebrate with you, so I booked our table two months ago.”

Two months ago? Of course he would. He would’ve seen on the syllabus that they had a presentation today— two days before her birthday, and one that required them to wear business attire, and figured it was the perfect way to spring it on her the day of so she couldn’t say no. Not that she’d want to, she was eager to go to the restaurant but the further in advance he told her things, the more likely she was to talk herself out of them. Damn him for knowing her so well. Still, she wasn’t going to surrender this easily. She leaned back, crossing her arms, staying silent.

“Come on Nazyalensky, we’ve got the best table in the place and for afterwards, I was thinking we could have a movie night. You know you want to say yes.”

She shrugged noncommittally, “maybe.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Whatever suits you best, Lantsov. Now hurry up, we only have this room for another 90 minutes.”

They got to work revising for one of their other shared classes, and before they knew it, they were greeted by a knock on the door.

“Occupied” Zoya hissed in frustration as Nikolai mumbled, “come in,” neither bothering to look up from their work until the visitor cleared their throat.

“Kirigin!” Nikolai beamed, his smile a little too big to be genuine, but Kirigin wouldn’t know that. Zoya peeked at Nikolai’s watch as he got up, they only had 10 minutes left.

“I was wondering if you would let me study here until you’re done? I have the room right after, but all the tables around here are taken.”

Nikolai looked to Zoya for and only then did Kirigin seem to notice her presence in the room. “We were actually just leaving,” Zoya said hurriedly rising from her chair before Kirigin could start falling over himself to compliment her.

“Oh, leaving so early?”

“Yes,” Nikolai responded, moving closer to her so that he could sling an arm over her shoulders. “We’re actually heading out for Zoya’s birthday dinner.” Kirigin opened his mouth, oh no. This was her queue to leave.

“I’m going to get some water before we go,” she announced, ignoring Nikolai’s imploring look in her direction, telling her not to leave him alone with Kirigin. Whoops. As she made her way back to the room, water bottle full, she heard something that made her freeze before she could walk in.

“So… are you and Zoya dating then?”

“Zoya and I?” Nikolai sounded flabbergasted. “Nazyalensky and I? No, we’re just friends.”

‘Just friends.’ Zoya thought. What was that that supposed to mean? She felt the sharp sting of hurt in her chest. She had been foolish to think that Nikolai saw her as something more than an ordinary friend. Not that she wanted him to. But still, an unnamed emotion had dug its claws into her chest and refused to leave her mind. What did he mean by that?

She stepped into the doorway, acting like she’d overheard nothing. Nikolai grinned at the sight of her, his smile reaching his eyes. He picked up her coat and bag, sauntering over to her. Waving a quick goodbye to Kirigin, Nikolai exited the room, waiting until they were in the elevator alone to talk to her.

“Is everything alright?” he asked quietly, as if sensing that something was off.

“Everything is fine, Nikolai.”

“You seem mad.” His eyes were full of concern, playful affection, and something else, something more biting that she couldn’t bear to face.

She turned away, “I’m not mad, why would I be mad?” Was this the concern you showed to someone you were just friends with? Knowing Nikolai, it probably was, but he was never this kind unless he wanted something from you. For once in her life, she didn’t seem to be the one by his side, rather the one under the crosshairs, completely blindsided. What did he want? She knew she shouldn’t be upset, Nikolai had never claimed to see her as anything more than a friend, and she had never asked for— never wanted more. Until now.

“Zoya?” The concern in his voice was near palpable, the warmth of his hand on her skin pulsed through her. She couldn’t deal with this.

“Just friends, Lantsov?” He froze, hand still on her shoulder. “I thought we were, how do you say it? Best friends.” She said, emphasizing the words as Nikolai would.

He let out a shaky breath as the elevator came to a stop before pressing a hand to his face, wiping all emotion but boyish charm away. “Why Zoya, you think that we’re ‘besties?’”

“Disgusting. No.” She wrinkled her nose as Nikolai laughed, leading her out of the elevator. In her heart she knew he was right. They were friends, just friends. And that was all they would ever be.

Just friends.

#zoyalai #zoya nazyalensky #nikolai lantsov #zoyalai fic #kos fic #zoyalai au #king of scars #tgt

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disworl · 4 years

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Alive, indefinitely.

So, since I’ve been dutifully informed that since this is my blog and I can post hwhatever I want, I thought I’d talk a little about my ‘fic ‘Alive, indefinitely’.

The ‘fic was birthed by me realizing the implications of Hussie’s revision that all burgundy bloods have the ability to commune with the dead. For the most part, I dislike his changes where the trolls from Homestuck proper become near stock representatives of their entire bloodcaste, but at least, this one has compelling subtext instead of just seeming lazy. And it is that the bloodcaste that has the ability to commune with the dead is also the bloodcaste that lives the shortest and is the most likely to have friends and acquaintences who die often.

And who better explore that topic than Aradia? So I wrote the ‘fic, and it did branch out to be about her, partially as her role as a rustblood on Alternia. And so it grew bigger than just exploring the subtext. I knew I wanted it in little numbered parts that made vignettes, as I’d been working on writing longer stories and was worried I was losing my edge in vignettes and short fiction. Though the resulting ‘fic ended up 1,677 words (I intended to keep it under 1,000, though I’m not disappointed!), I’m still very satisfied with it and think the vignettes work. With the numbering of the vignettes, I also wanted to do an sort of Epileptic Bicycle and start skipping around numbers, to show that there was different amounts of time passing, and that things were happening in between. And because I just thought it was neat. The idea of a story with missing numbered chapters is very compelling. And anyway, I did have a skip, with the penultimate vignette being 5, and the ultimate being 10 (which upon thought really does make the ‘a lifetime later’ after the 10 work out mathematically*), but it played nowhere near as a big role as I would want to. Maybe some other time.

*Which since all the numbers are roman numerals, 10 ends up being ‘x’, which as a symbol is associated with death. I planned none of that (or at least I don’t remember it consciously) but I will take credit, regardless.

II.

For a second I thought Tumblr was more competent than it is, so I tried to insert a line break, but Tumblr is not competent, so have a fancy second section with big roman numerals instead.

Anyway, I’m just going to note and comment on some specific parts of the passage, because I can.

The internet is wide and wonderful, and it is through there that she learns about archaeology, the wonders lying just beneath the ground and thinks, to be an archaeologist would be an awfully grand adventure.

What Aradia thinks is a fairly straightforward play on the phrase, ‘to die would be an awfully grand adventure’. It's a neat way to both tie back the theme, and it also spared me from figuring out exactly how to phrase it.

She finds especially good company with one boy, his troll tag resting at the top of her chumproll. He’s a rustblood like her, a bit reserved but passionate about the mystery book he’s writing. Occasionally he sends her snippets from it, and while it’s a bit clumsy, he is always eager to hear about her archaeological expeditions, so she never mentions it.

When I wrote this part, I suddenly realized I needed an unnamed rustblood to die. I also realized it would be a good idea to also characterize him a little bit before killing him off, so you get at least the idea of what his and Aradia’s relationship was like, so I decided to use one of my long-derelict fantrolls.

So she starts to rebel. She grows her hair out, longer than the modest shoulder-length cut she had before. She lets it become wild, a sign of her own spirit and power. She starts painting her lips and lining her eyes in burgundy, a mockery of the high bloods who wear their blue hues as a fashion statement.

This is a combination of two of my headcanons about Alternian society: that long, wild hair is seen as a sign of power and sexuality (as expressed by the Condesce and other highbloods), and that wearing hemo lipstick and eyeliner is a high blood fashion trend.

When she is five sweeps old, she makes another close friend. He’s a bit shy, but unapologetic about what he likes – his fiduspawn collection, pupa pan, FLARPing – and that, as much as she loves Sollux, is a breath of fresh air.

Tavros is often done dirty by fanfic and fan-interpretations of Homestuck, and it often intertwines with apologism for Vriska and her abuse of him. He’s treated as a perpetually and naturally weak and insignificant, when having a person who is abusive like Vriska will make anyone unsure and rattled like that. It takes some digging, as the majority of Homestuck takes after Vriska’s batted around Tavros for quite a while, but underneath her abuse (and the effects from that abuse at the hands of Alternian culture) it’s clear that he’s still that unapologetically dorky kid, and even cocky at times. In his trollhandle adiosToreador, he’s not the Toreador - he’s the bull. And hopefully I could express that well in the space that I could.

She befriends Karkat through Sollux, and Terezi through Karkat, and it’s through Terezi that she learns about Vriska.

This is one of several sentences in this ‘fic that employ a certain sense of repetition and rhythm. Part of that is because it gives a motif of time, which is tied to death and destruction in Homestuck, and the other half is because I just... really like writing ‘em.

She still talks with Tavros, however, but now he’s uncertain, hesitant and ashamed, and a fair number of times when she trolls him he doesn’t reply, and when he does more than anything he talks about the things he’s experienced in his dreams, and she knows exactly who has been trolling him even if he doesn’t say it and –

– and Aradia watches her friend become a living ghost, bit by bit.

This is place where I forwent canon the most, earning the ‘fic its ‘mild timeline fudgery’ tag. Throughout writing this ‘fic I constantly had a tab open to either a page in Homestuck or the wiki, or both, in order to make sure I stayed as accurate to Alternian culture that I could (at least, in Homestuck proper). While there were a lot of gaps that I got fill in for myself, it’s just plain canon that Aradia sends the ghosts after Vriska immediately after she knows that Tavros is likely going to be paraplegic for the rest of his life. But I had written the sentence already (one of my favourite lines, really), and it just makes for a better story, at least in this ‘fic. So I kept it like that. There’s also a sort of cut-and-paste fudge in that sentence, too. I remembered that Tavros spent most of his time dreaming on Prospit just so he didn’t have to deal with Vriska’s abuse, but as it turns out, it happens after she god-tiers. So I just turned it into regular dreaming and thereby folded into the above canon discrepancy. But it’s definitely based on that later detail.

iv.

The shock of seeing Sollux actually at her hive is quickly overtaken by the shock that courses through her veins right after she realizes what is about to happen, and far too late to do anything about it.

I knew pretty early that I wanted the vignette of her death to be one sentence long, though I certainly ended up stretching that one sentence fairly far. Either way, it’s very isolated from the rest of the ‘fic, which is fairly on-par for the ‘fic style where a particularly hard-hitting or important sentence gets its own paragraph. Anyway, everyone knows how the story ends, and it’s sudden for Aradia, so I think putting it in one sentence both works structurally and artistically.

She’s tired of temporal inevitability.

She’s free of the endless orders and voices of the dead.

She, for the first time in her life, feels truly alive.

Instead of the pale shadows that clung to her hive, the hollow ghosts that people left behind, the dream bubbles are filled with countless iterations of her friends, and numerous others.

But even then, dying and waking up in foreign surroundings is a shock.

And really, there’s no-one else who would be a better guide to greet the dead.

At this point, I feel again, that going into detail would be dragging things out. I also wanted it to feel significantly different from the rest. So, where the other parts of the story are told through a sort of rolling tone of voice, through ‘the lens of age old history’ the rather straightforward sentences here are meant to sound very present.

#Homestuck #Aradia Megido #Fanfiction #Hemospectrum #Long post-#Commentary #Andrew Hussie's Earthbound fanfiction

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ilovemybarricadebabies · 3 years

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another fanfic ask game post! enjoy!

This time I’m doing these questions!

Inspiration and Reading Questions:

1. How long ago did you start reading fanfiction? Writing fanfiction?

Reading: I’m not sure. Maybe 2011/2012

Writing: 2013

2. How do you spend your time when it comes to fanfiction? Are you primarily fic reader, writer, or a perfect 50/50 split of both?

It’s definitely both, but I wouldn’t call it a perfect 50/50 split. It varies. Sometimes I read more, but write less or vice versa.

3. Are there any fics that inspired you to write what you do.

Not really. I usually just write fics for whatever I want to.

4. Link your three favorite fics right now.

Current favorite WIPs.

All That’s Left by @doriangrayscale

flowers for your grave by @grantairesbottle

Lover of the Light by @areyoumiserableyet

Favorite (four) all-time fics

Ask me no question (and I’ll tell you no lies) by Signe_chan

If you offer salvation, I will run (into your arms) by mornmeril

this is fact not fiction by Rianne

Oh, It’s What You Do To Me by captainskellington

5. What are your fanfic pet peeves? Do they have a huge effect on whether or not you decide to read something.

I have a love-hate relationship with slow burn fics. Like I love them because give me the pining, give me the obliviousness, give me the amazing, sweeping first kiss, give me the angst, just give me all the delicious development that comes with finding common ground and falling in love. That being said, however, and I realize that I’m in the minority here, the hate part comes in when the story is really long, let’s 50+ chapters, and the story gets to chapter 50, but the romance still hasn’t started coming into play and I’m starting to just get sick of it because nothing has progressed to romance. Like there gets to be a time where too much is too much and usually, when that happens, it’s time for me to say adios! to the story.

6. How do you find new fic to read? Where do you primarily read fanfiction.

I primarily read fics on Ao3. I loathe FFN.net with every fiber of my being.

I usually just leave the Enjolras/Grantaire category open on and refresh it like three to four times a day for new stories to read.

7. Do you prefer to read short fics or long fics?

It depends on the ship, but I mostly like long fics.

8. How often do you reblog/comment on fics that you like?

I’m absolutely horrid at commenting (I’m working on getting better), but if it’s a story that I really like (ex. the three WIPs mentioned in question 4), I will comment every time there is a new chapter.

9. Tag 3 fic writers you think are underrated/unknown in the fandom/fanfiction community.

I have no idea. In my opinion, I think all writers are underrated and unknown.

10. What’s your favorite fandom, pairing, or character to read fic for?

Enjolras and Grantaire (Enjoltaire) from Les Mis.

Fanfiction Writing Asks:

11. How do you come up with your fic titles?

Through music or quotes. Sometimes one just comes to me, but mostly through music or quotes.

12. Tell the author your favorite fics title of theirs (not the fics, stricktly the title). Author: what’s your favorite title you’ve come up with and why?

I love all the titles of my fics, I can’t possibly pick a favorite.

13. Do you outline your fics? How much of a headache would someone get if they just look at an outline of yours without reading the fic?

I make some sort of outline, but I don’t think they’d really get much of a headache since it’s pretty much just a basic plot, maybe sometimes a little more than that.

14. Do you have personal word minimum that you hold yourself too? Why or why not?

Absolutely not! I write until I think I’ve found a good quitting spot. That can be 500 words or 20k words. It all depends on how I’m feeling and where my motivation is at.

15. Tell the author your favorite fics of theirs. What’s your (the author’s) favorite fic you’ve written?

Forever Was In His Eyes is my favorite with Begin Again as a close second.

Honorable mention because it pushed me out of my comfort zone: Beating of Our One Heart.

16. Do you research your fics? If so, how deep of a rabbit hole have you down by accident while researching?

I only research if the fic absolutely calls for it.

17. How obsessively do you sit and stare at your fic after you’ve just posted and wait for feedback?

On a scale of 1-100, 100. I’m not motivated by feedback like some writers are, but I do love to know if someone is enjoying my fic or not.

18. Do you have WIP that you keep telling yourself that you’ll eventually get back to, but deep down you know that’s probably lie?

Nope. Any WIPs that are unfinished, will probably stay unfinished.

19. Do you edit your fics after you write them, or do you prefer to just post and run (because it’s someone else’s problem now)?

I edit, and then, I’m constantly editing after it’s posted. If I re-read one of my fics and spot a spelling mistake, I can’t just let it sit there, I HAVE to fix it. I am also currently in the middle of long and giant editing project to make sure all my stories are the best stories that they can.

20. What’s your favorite part about the fanfiction writing process?

Um...I, for some strange reason, love outlining. I love coming up with the sequence of events. How do the characters get from point A to point B. How does the story end.

21. What’s your least favorite part about the fanfiction writing process?

Editing and revising. Always.

22. Do you take fic requests? If so, for what characters and why?

Nope. I don’t get enough attention in my inbox to do that.

23. What’s your absolute favorite trope to write?

Forbidden love. I’ve always been such a sucker for this trope.

24. What’s a trope that you’d like to never hear about as long as you live, let alone write?

I’m sure that there are some tropes that I would never touch in a million years, but I can’t think of any write now.

25. Do you listen to music as your write? If possible, link your writing playlist.

I listen to music, but I don’t have a playlist. Most of time it’s just Taylor Swift.

26. What’s your biggest distraction when writing?

Um...if I’m watching a brand new TV show or one I haven’t watched in a long time, I’ll pay more attention to the screen then what I’m supposed to be writing. This goes for movies too.

27, Do you like to give your readers some warning of what might be coming or just slap them in the face with content at random?

I keep my fics under lock and key until they are finished. No one knows any details about them except me. The one exception to this rule was Beating of Our One Heart. I warned that that fic would feature a polyamorous relationship (something I have never written before) while I was working on the outline.

28. How do you deal with writing pressure (ie: pressure to update, negative comments, deadlines, etc)?

Well, the only pressure I usually feel is worry that people won’t like my story, but I think that’s normal for every writer.

29. Have you ever written for an exchange or event of some kind? Which one(s)?

I don’t write for events.

30. Post a snippet from your current WIP without context - no more than 300 words.

R (11:46 P.M.): I’m not sorry.

31. Of the characters your write for, which is your favorite? Has that choice been swayed at all by your followers/readers’ reactions to certain one?

I love writing Enjolras. I’m sure people who have read my fanfics find him to be OOC, but I don’t care. When I write him, he’s half me projecting and the other half is him being the righteous revolutionary that we know him as.

32. Copy and paste your top three favorite lines/jokes/sentences you’ve ever written. What fics do they come from?

I can’t pick three, I have too many favorites.

33. What do you like writing better: one shots or multi-chapter stuff?

It depends. I like writing both. I also really like writing one shots that are 30k+ and multi-chapter fics that are under 10k. It all just depends on my mood and what the fic calls for.

34. How much of yourself and your life experience do you put into your writing? What do you think your readers’ image of you is?

As stated above, I project onto Enjolras. How much, I’m not saying. I do put my likes and dislikes as the characters’. When I write children, I draw inspiration from my nephews. I use my high school class schedule as the characters’ schedule when I write high school AU’s. The jest of what I’m saying is that I have no idea what my readers’ image of me is.

35. How much has writing fic changed your life?

It’s become my escape when things get too difficult or stressful.

36. Are they any fics or fandoms you’re embarrassed to have written or been apart of?

I’m not embarrassed by it, and I never finished or posted it, but I started writing a Sound of Music fic. I don’t remember what it was about, though.

37. Give an update on your current WIP - if you have one, give a sneak peek to a title or idea that you have and would like to write.

My current WIP is almost done. I just have to finish writing more scene.

38. What does your writing process look like? How chaotic is it on a scale of 1 (very tame) to 10 (you can’t handle this kind of chaos)?

It’s very tame, so 1. I write my stories in order of events, if I don’t I get confused on what’s happen. I start by writing an outline, and then I write and I edit (multiple times) before I post.

39. What’s something about your writing that you pride yourself on?

That I write what I want to. No comments can really influence the story (unless it’s a consistency thing) because I write the whole thing out before it’s posted.

40. How did you come up with the idea for [x fic]?

You can see this answer right here!

41. What’s your most popular fic (with the most notes on Tumblr, most hits/kudos on Ao3)?

My most popular fic based on hits: Somethings Are Meant to Be.

My most popular fic based on kudos: The Enjolras Guide to Weddings and Love.

42. Asker: pick three of the author’s works. Author: rank them 1 (the best) - 3 (the worst) based on whatever criteria you want - this could be something totally random that isn’t quality related ( like simply ranking fics based on how many trains appear in them) have fun!

I’m skipping this question!

43. Talk about a positive experience with fanfiction or the fanfiction community that you will always remember.

Every comment that I get, especially if I get it when I’m having a bad day, is like a little ray of sunshine for me. Again I’m not motivated by comments or feedback, but I can’t deny that receiving it is like a cherry on top of a delicious hot fudge sundae.

44. Ran about something writing related.

How long it takes to write. I wish I could just connect some sort of machine to my brain, and it would just churn out the words for my fics and they could be done a lot sooner. And that fanfiction could come before homework and life, but alas it can’t.

45. Fic specific questions - if you have any weird questions about specific works, here’s your shot to ask them!

Skipping this one, but if you have a question about any of my fics, my ask box is currently closed, but my DM’s are always open.

#fanfic asks #personal post #ask game #long post #fic writing

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youkaiangel · 6 years

Text

That awkward moment when... - WH Fic

Pairing: Klaus/???

Genre: smut/humour - NSFW

Words: 1700

Summary: even single men have needs.

A/N: there is currently Elias’ Sequel Super Early Bird period, a brand new collection event series with double boosting, and I have eighty-something story tickets to burn, but someone got in my head and made me want this smut trash fic instead god dammit. Do not ask where the idea for this came from.

Creds to @stephdaninja for brainstorming this with me. Enjoy!

***

His eyes passed over the words, the sentences, the paragraphs on the pages before him, but his mind was not there. His mind was still stuck in that classroom doorway, stuck on... that woman.

They’d been short one professor that afternoon, Professor Schuyler having fallen victim to a fledgling student’s errant spell and requiring urgent medical assistance, so Headmaster Randolph had “called in a favour” and somehow managed to get a replacement teacher within the hour. Since the replacement was teaching Elias’ class for the afternoon, Klaus dismissed his own students five minutes early and made his way to Fortitudo’s classroom. Randolph would no doubt appreciate a first hand report on the performance of the substitute.

What he expected was a surly old man, long since retired and lost his edge for teaching, let alone holding the students’ attention. What he found though as he peered through the window in the classroom door was every student, or the male ones filling the first three rows at least, attentively focused on the front of the room, on that woman.

She couldn’t have been more than 30, although she carried herself with an air of maturity that made her seem much older. That figure though, and her beautiful pale skin, was definitely a twenty-something-year-old, straight out of a teenage boy’s wet dream. Her long legs, perched precariously in black heels high enough to emasculate every boy in the room, were wrapped in sheer black nylon to her mid thigh topped with a band of black lace. Between the top of the lace and the hem of her dangerously short tight skirt was a strip of skin so beautiful and elegant, revealing the muscles in her legs that flexed with every step she took. The high-waisted skirt gave the appearance it was of an appropriate length and simply sitting too high, but if the woman bent at the hip at all she’d be revealing much more than the back of her toned thighs. A white blouse was tucked in to the pencil skirt, exposing almost as much as it was concealing. The fabric pulled taut over the front of her exaggerated chest, the low neckline baring the lacy tops of her white bra and cleavage every boy in the room was dreaming of landing his face in.

If that weren’t enough, the line of her long neck, decorated by the flowing curls of her silken black hair, led his gaze up to her stunning sweetheart face, luscious red lips and crystalline blue eyes decorated with long dark lashes. “Beautiful” was an insult to this goddess of a woman.

Klaus watched from outside the door as the woman crossed back to the podium at the front of the room, turning her side to the students and her back to the door. He stared in disbelief as the woman bent forward to reach into her small black bag on the floor. Her skirt pulled up and while no one in the room would’ve had a view of anything more than the side of her thigh, from his vantage point Klaus saw everything. The sweet round cheeks of her arse formed little shadows at the tops of her thighs, while the prize between her legs was barely covered by a silken black thong, the tiny strip of fabric disappearing between the roundness of her cheeks.

That moment had been playing on his mind all afternoon. He’d managed to have a somewhat coherent conversation with the well-educated, professional woman regarding her teaching of the class, and to spare her the humiliation he decidedly did not tell her he had seen her performance, but he suspected she already knew what he’d seen just from the red in his cheeks. She was smart, captivating, mysterious, eloquent, all things he desired in a woman. And she was definitely attractive.

Those red lips were possibly one of her most beautiful features, though it was hard to pick any one that was the best. Those red lips were so luscious and soft, he couldn’t help but imagine how they would feel if he ran his thumb across them. Would her lipstick smudge?

Klaus shook himself, trying to rattle away the fantasy. He was supposed to be revising the reading material for his class tomorrow, but he just couldn’t focus. That woman had stirred something inside him that needed to be sated.

He cast a glance at his bed, then to the dorm room door. Randy was still in the office, and when Klaus had left earlier that evening Randy had at least five more hours worth of work to get done. Could he trust that Randy would still be in the office for at least seven more minutes?

It was worth the risk.

Klaus closed the book, placed it on the desk, cast his spell to dim the lights and cross over to his bed, unbuttoning his shirt as he walked. Thinking of that woman had already gotten him aroused, his pants now putting painful pressure on his crotch. He unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his pants before laying down on his back, one hand reaching down to free himself of the restrictive fabric.

One stroke sent shivers through his body, every muscle jittering with pleasure. His mind instantly went back to the beautiful woman as he continue to run his hand up and down, wondering if her touch would be gentle or firm, delicate or vigorous. He thought of those rich red lips leaning down, forming a perfect O as she inched towards his head.

Seven minutes would not be required, and he felt comfortable that Randy would not be back before he had finished. Resigned to his desires, he leant over to the side of his bed, opening the top drawer of his side table to retrieve the jar of hand cream. He quickly opened the jar and scooped out two fingers of the faintly scented cream, before carefully replacing the lid, the jar, the drawer, and returning to his supine position.

He smeared the cold cream across the head of his cock and carefully spread it, slicking up his palm in the process to run up and down the length of him. That particular cream was not ideal for this use, but it would suffice, and it wasn’t going to be a long exercise anyway.

Where was I?

His mind flicked back to thoughts of the woman, her beautiful and soft lips wrapping around him, taking him into her mouth, her warm tongue swirling around his sensitive head. Just the thought of her mouth on him sent a warmth pulsing through his body, inching him closer to orgasm. The woman looked experienced, and Klaus imagined she would have no difficulty swallowing the full length of him. Okay, maybe a little difficulty.

His hand worked faster, harder, focussing on the sensitive tip of his cock. As much as the idea of those beautiful lips was tantalising him, the sight of her bent over, long and slender legs pushing back towards him seemed to bring a more fiery passion to his grip. He imagined himself crossing over to her bent forward like that, reaching up her short skirt to take hold of her silky black thong and drawing it down, revealing her small, plump lips and hot, wet opening. In front of his brother’s entire class, he would undo his pants and sink his cock deep inside her excited body, drawing a smooth, honeyed sigh from her supple lips. Over and over he would push his hard cock into her tiny, delicate hole, sending waves of pleasure through her, causing her body to clench tightly around him and pulling continual moans from her throat in increasingly higher tones. Every stroke brought him closer to sweet release, only seconds away.

‘I’m finished Klaus!’

Randy’s cheerful voice struck Klaus with a jolt of absolute terror and stopped him dead in his tracks as the door burst open, tearing him away from his fantasy and filling the room with light from the hall. Even with the light behind him, Klaus could see Randy’s eyes wide, and mouth hanging open as he took in the situation. Like the deer in headlights, Klaus was completely unable to move.

Randy bent forward to sweep up Taffy and turned from the room quicker than he had entered, crying over his shoulder as he slammed the door, ‘sorry Klaus!!’

Fuck!

The moment had been completely lost, having locked eyes with the cotton candy haired nuisance. He gritted his teeth and raised a dry hand to his forehand, trying desperately to resist the urge to punch something and failing miserably, sinking his fist in the bed beside his hip. There was no possible way Randy could’ve finished all that work so quickly and he was furious at both the fact that his work was either half-assed or incomplete, and that he had been caught red-handed in a humiliating moment of desperation and desire. He had never before hated having Randy as his roommate as much as he did in that moment.

Somewhere at the other side of the boys’ dorm was a breathless Randy, desperate to catch air, having run as far as he could as quick as he could, but unable to, being doubled over and clutching his stomach, cackling madly with laughter.

***

Elias took his breakfast from the boy serving in the kitchen and scanned the room for a seat. Klaus had placed himself in the corner of the room and was currently alone, not reading or doing anything but eating, so Elias decided to take the opportunity to sit with his brother.

Klaus didn’t look up as he approached, his eyes fixed on his meal. Elias announced his presence as he approached, clearing his throat and saying, ‘good morning, brothe—‘

‘What the hell do you want?’ Klaus snapped, shooting cold twitching eyes up at the younger blond. The look in his stare was enough to kill.

Elias spun on his heel and quickly retreated, wondering what on earth he’d done to infuriate his brother so much. As he scarpered he noticed Randy a few seats away, eyes on the fearful boy, hand covering his mouth and smothering his giggles.

#klaus goldstein #randy march #serge durandal #elias goldstein #wizardess heart #shall we date #shall we date wizardess heart #wizardess heart fanfic

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essawrites · 6 years

Text

Ramblings - DtRH

I don’t currently have access to a copy of the James Bond movies, due to it being exam time, and my needing to eventually collect enough credits to get my degree! SO! I thought I was going to be able to ignore Down the Rabbit Hole until I could rewatch the films, and thus plan out the intersecting scenes. NOPE!

Turns out, my brain went “You know that conlang you’re trying to build? The one with sign language as well? For your ~Big Shiny Project~ that is Adytum? Guess what! You don’t get to work on that right now! Nope! You get the dialogue of a scene from a completely different fic.”

I was kinda like “??? Um, brain, this is not at all convenient, I was actually trying to revise, but if we’re going to do fic, can it please be-”

“And here’s some stage directions! That’s what you wanted, right? More direction for how this scene that you didn’t know was going to be in the fic is going to go? ‘Coz that’s what you’re getting!!!”

“Brain plz.”

“Ooops~ You lost some of the lines of dialogue~ Silly Essa~ Write this down before you lose it all and I refuse to give you anything else for months.”

*Sigh* “Fine.”

So that is how I currently have a word document detailing a scene that, yeah, I do actually want to include, but like, it’s in the format of lines of dialogue and [bracketed] descriptions of setting and actions. I feel like I really shittly attempted to describe the sweeping details of a minimalist scene from an old indie movie. It’s a good scene, I think. But it isn’t at all written in the correct format, nor was it what I wanted to write, so... *shrugs* What can you do?

Ah well. At least it isn’t a new plunny, I’ve quite enough of those.

#essa rambles #down the rabbit hole #Alice Greer Bond #why brain why #why do this to me #W H Y ?#???#why'd you hurt me this way #sigh #at least it's a usable scene #...or it will be #when i finally convert it #fucksake

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discoabc · 7 years

Text

Ch 20 Deleted Scene: Dog sitting

A/N: So sorry that requests have been taking a while! Revision has been weighing me down more than I thought it would OTL Anyway, this is another team 10 deleted encounter with Sakura! I didn’t use it because again I decided I preferred the idea I am going to use in the fic but this one was ridiculously fun to write :)

Sasuke being at the meeting point the next day was something of a relief to see as I approached the bridge. I took up the spot opposite him, leaning against the railing and hoping that I’d shown up late enough for the wait for Kakashi to be relatively short.

“Is your arm better now?”

I blinked, staring at Sasuke in honest surprise. I’d been expecting all progress we’d had into becoming people who could stand being around each other to have gone to hell after I’d been made to stay behind to talk to the Hokage and he’d been dismissed. It was admittedly slightly unnerving that it hadn’t. Although, since Iruka had told him the reason as to why Naruto had been asked to stay behind, he might’ve come to the conclusion my reason hadn’t been that nice either.

“Yeah, I got it healed by the hospital the day we came back,” I told him, moving my arm a little to punctuate my point. “Thanks, for asking,” I then added somewhat awkwardly.

Sasuke nodded in an equally awkward fashion, stuffing his hands into his pockets and glancing away. “At the very least it’s quieter without the idiot around,” he muttered after a minute or so.

“I’m thankful for every moment of silence I have because of him,” I murmured in agreement. His lips twitched into a small smirk.

“Ah yes, the bonding over an absent team member is heartwarming indeed.” We both looked upwards to see Kakashi perched on top of the bridge, wiggling his fingers in greeting.

“Your cat and dogs were sick again?” I asked as he hopped down, Sasuke shooting me a questioning look whilst Kakashi placed his hand over his heart.

“Of course not, that would be a blatant lie,” he informed me with an entirely straight face. “It was my pet owl.”

...Of course it was.

Sasuke looked equally unimpressed but didn’t say anything, having clearly picked up from all of Naruto’s one-sided shrieking matches with the man that arguing with him resulted in only in a headache for you and more amusement for him. “Anyway, since Naruto has gone and gotten himself suspended in record time and there aren’t many missions for only two genin,” Kakashi paused, presumably for dramatic effect, “you guys are going to join up with other teams.”

Sasuke looked even more unimpressed. “So, essentially, you’re shirking responsibility as our jōnin-sensei again.”

Kakashi hummed. “I prefer ‘allowing my students to independently strengthen bonds with fellow Konoha-nin’.”

“Meaning yes.”

Another look of mock offense directed at me. “Continuing on, you’ll be working with these teams for the next few weeks so play nice, children. Sasuke, the meeting spot for your team is outside the Konoha library and Sakura, Amaguriama.” I recognized the name as being one of the sweet shops on the Konoha tea avenue.

“Which teams have we been assigned to?” Sasuke asked sensibly.

Kakashi smiled “It’s a surprise. Oh, and by the way, you’re already an hour late, so you’d best start running. See you soon!” He disappeared in a puff of smoke.

Both Sasuke and I glared at the spot the jōnin had last been in.

Motherfucker.

I ran until I got to the tea avenue, slowing to a jog there and deciding for the billionth time that Kakashi, for all the begrudgingly admitted helpful talks he’d had with me, was a first rate asshole. It was a fact I’d somehow forgotten whilst going through the hell of the Wave mission and hadn’t been eager to recall either.

My only hope by this point was that the team I’d been assigned to was aware of Kakashi’s nature and had stuck by the shop despite how late I was. It was going to be intensely annoying and painful if they hadn’t because that meant going to the Hokage’s tower in an attempt to figure out which team I was meant to be with and deal with their subsequent irritation when I did meet them.

God damn it Kakashi.

Sidestepping another civilian, the sign for Amaguriama came into view and I slowed further, scanning my surroundings with more care. Hopefully, at least one member would be wearing the standard Konoha flak jacket since fashion meant spotting forehead protectors difficult (which I saw as a plus with mine on my arm as against an enemy-nin there would be potentially a few moments before they saw I was a Konoha-nin).

My eyes found a flak jacket immediately, the owner sat on the bench outside the shop. I also recognized them just as quickly, realization as to which team I’d been assigned to kicking in hard. The owner seemed to notice he was being stared at and turned, focusing on me straight away. He raised a hand in greeting, waving me over as he tapped his cigarette, ash dropping into the tray below.

“Hey, team seven’s Sakura, right?” Asuma greeted me with an easy going smile as a sudden feeling of ingrained dread dropped in my stomach. “I was beginning to wonder where you’d got to, but then remembered what Kakashi’s like.”

“Sakura?” A familiar feminine voice called out my name in a mixture of surprise and confusion, blonde hair swishing as Ino poked her head out around Asuma’s side. “Wait, so you mean the person we were waiting for this entire time was Sakura?!”

“You’re so loud.”

Ino made the noise of someone who had been criticized one too many times in a short period and there was a resounding thud as her victim hit the ground. I glanced down at Shikamaru, the boy seeming to be seriously considering whether it was honestly worth getting back onto the bench before he looked up and squinted a little at me. “Come on, let’s at least pretend we’re civilized in front of other people,” Asuma sighed and as if on cue I then looked round to see Chōji stuffing crisps into his mouth with all the grace and dignity of a starved hyena.

Ino glowered at Asuma, flicking her hair behind her shoulder. “I’m perfectly civilized, thank you very much,” she retorted. Shikamaru poorly disguised his snort at that from down on the ground and earned an even fiercer glare in response. Chōji had wisely opted to not involve himself in the situation, still chewing away.

“I’m Asuma, in case Kakashi managed to ‘forget’ to tell you,” the jōnin then informed me, opting to ignore what was going on in front of him. “I assume you remember these guys from the Academy?” I nodded. “And you guys remember Sakura?”

Three pairs of eyes focused on me and I suddenly got the urge to throw my hood up over my head. It was a reaction hammered into me by all those years of trying my best to limit any and all interaction with the trio. I didn’t really need to do that anymore, not when my cover of normalcy had been thoroughly shattered, but something inside me that had slowly been built up through those years of playing the part of the average girl cringed at the attention they were paying to me.

“Of course we know who she is,” Ino told Asuma rather snappily and I wasn’t surprised by the nod of agreement Chōji gave, assuming Shikamaru held the same knowledge of me. We’d been in the same class for years so it was natural they had some awareness of who I was. Ino especially had no reason to forget me - I’d been her designated sparring partner for years. Had I not been friends with her arch nemesis Ami, I got the feeling Ino might’ve tried to be more than merely amiable with me.

The sudden thought of the purple haired girl jolted me a little. I had no idea how or what she was doing. She’d been a bitch but she’d also been a constant presence for a good portion of my life and it felt strange to not know anything about what had happened to her.

“Well then, that makes things a lot easier,” Asuma declared, cleanly sweeping away those thoughts. He stood up and took one last drag before extinguishing his cigarette. “We might as well get it over and done with. You can reacquaint yourselves whilst we wait in the missions queue.”

Ino groaned at the idea, loudly, whilst Shikamaru finally heaved himself to his feet. “The life of a ninja is so hard, I know.” Asuma grinned, then glanced back at me. “And, since Kakashi doesn’t believe in queues, I imagine it’ll be a good experience for you too.”

I wondered briefly whether there was a level of enjoyment at others’ misery one had to surpass in order to become a jōnin. Then again, it was a widely accepted fact that most jōnin didn’t want to have to take on teams. It was a large step down from commanding a skilled squad of ninja to taking care of inexperienced kids. And when you’d reached that rank which was only surpassed by the title of Hokage, it was unusual to not look upon the newer generation with a vision jaded and hardened from what you’d been through.

Gently (or roughly in Kakashi’s case) taunting us was probably a sort of minor revenge for the situation they’d been put into.

Or they could all just be assholes, which was a perfectly good theory in of itself.

“Wonderful,” I muttered dryly instead, Asuma clearly taking well to my sarcasm and chuckling as he led the way.

Ino dropped in beside me as we walked, irritation replaced with a sort of cautious curiosity and innate friendliness. “So, how have you been, Sakura?” She asked in a lilting voice, testing the waters with keen eyes.

Oh, you know, had my cover busted by my asshole of a jōnin instructor, killed a couple of guys, had intense, debilitating panic attacks and watched numerous people die, some in horrific fashions. Same old, same old.

“...Good.”

She nodded with a sigh. “I bet it. You’ve got Sasuke on your team after all.” As she said his name, there was a dreamy look in her eyes. “How is he by the way?”

Out of the corner of my vision, I caught Shikamaru rolling his eyes, the boy seeming content to walk quietly beside Chōji whilst Ino attempted to snare me in some form of conversation. “Good too, I think.”

“Devilishly handsome as per usual then?”

I put the back of my hand to my mouth to cover up how I almost choked on air, willing my expression not to become what it had with Tenten and feeling I was losing the battle terribly. It wasn’t that I didn’t understand why people found Sasuke attractive, it was just that it was...Sasuke.

Ugh.

“If you say so,” was what I ended up replying. Ino, who had no doubt seen the myriad of emotions flickering across my face, most of which were ones of disgust, blinked and delicately arched an eyebrow. I got the impression that, had I been anyone else, she might’ve demanded what I meant by that, but she seemed to give me the benefit of the doubt.

Shikamaru and Chōji shot each other a look, the kind of thing only the closest of friends could do and could not be understood by anyone other than themselves, but said nothing as Ino switched to telling Asuma that he’d better help with their mission this time.

I bit back a sigh.

Well, we’re off to a fantastic start, aren’t we?

I had at one point gotten it into my head that team seven was just the epitome of unluckiness. We had a tricksy, infamous jōnin as a teacher, a bright orange trouble magnet, a self-proclaimed avenger and a bitter, sarcastic bitch. So, of course, our missions would end badly - there were just too many ingredients for disaster in one spot for it not to. As a result, I’d thought the other teams all had plain sailing through their own missions.

Boy, I could not be more wrong.

“Sit! Oh, come on you stupid animal, sit!”

Ino’s dog completely ignored her, continuing to walk on as though the blonde wasn’t tugging on their leash frantically. It was a large dog that looked almost like a bear and thus was aptly named such. It had also certainly not been Ino’s first choice when we’d turned up to collect the dogs for our dog walking mission, the leash having been shoved in her hand before she could pick another. No, her first choice was the small dog in Chōji’s arms that was biting ferociously at the crisp packet he was trying to keep out of reach and failing somewhat at doing so.

And then there was Shikamaru’s dog that wouldn’t stop barking for a goddamn second. He was just looking at it in faint despair, as though he’d resigned himself to this fate of eternal ‘woofs’ from an abnormally angry dog.

Had the noise not been getting to an unbearable level with Ino’s yelled commands, Chōji’s continued shouts of ‘NO THAT’S MINE’ and Shikamaru’s dog’s incessant barking, I might’ve assumed the same stance on the situation. Asuma’s chuckling from the sidelines and complete lack of desire to help with the increasingly worsening mess wasn’t exactly doing anything to ease my headache either, although my dog quite helpfully quietly sniffing away at a tree by my side.

For a brief moment of utter insanity, I wished I was with my own team instead. At least it was only Naruto shouting there.

I then immediately regretted the thought as a familiar chakra appeared and I snapped my glare onto Kakashi, who was watching the scene with blatant amusement.

“Bad dog! Let go of it!”

“Sit!”

The continuous barks from hell.

“This looks delightful,” Kakashi remarked, giving a nod of acknowledgment to Asuma before waggling his fingers at me. “Having fun are we?”

“Oh, buckets full of it,” I muttered venomously as Shikamaru’s dog’s barking somehow got louder at sight of the newcomer, head pounding with pain.

“That’s good, I was worried you’d be bored without your wonderful sensei. Sasuke’s having an equally fun time babysitting with those team eight fellows just so you know.” That only made the situation seem worse, getting not even minor vindication from the thought of Kiba being a pain in the ass to the Uchiha since that was certainly going to be a quiet team otherwise.

Ino’s sharp ears however caught onto the mention of my teammate’s name and her efforts to try and keep her dog from continuing to drag her forwards momentarily ceased so she could glance back at Kakashi. Her lapse in concentration on her task caused her dog to yank her forwards and she let out a high pitched yelp of surprise that turned out to be one more decibel than I was willing to take for the sake of my own sanity (of which was already skating on extremely thin ice).

“Sit!” I snapped loudly, letting my irritation flow freely into my tone of voice. Which ended up being the exact voice the dogs needed to listen.

Ino’s dog skidded to a halt and sat down so suddenly that the blonde went flying into a patch of mud that oh so happened to be in the worst spot imaginable. Chōji’s dog suddenly became a deadweight and the boy toppled over too, animal sat comfortably on his chest with crisp packet held delicately in its jaws. Shikamaru’s dog went dead silent. Mine, already perfectly well behaved, plunked itself down and stared expectantly up at me for the next command.

I blinked as everyone else turned to look at me too.

...I didn’t actually think that was going to work.

“Now, this wasn’t strictly my fault this time,” Kakashi then told Asuma and the man burst into poorly smothered laughter.

#deleted scenes #I just really love the dog scene lmao #also Shikamaru 'help I've fallen and I can't be bothered to get up' Nara here at ur service #listen I relate to Shika on a spiritual level #TKAB

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hazelwander · 7 years

Text

Feeling Blue

No, not me. I wrote Pearls again. But this time is different. Took some Blue Pearl headcanon and revised it with the events of The Trial and I’m actually pretty happy with it, especially the ending. Largely inspired flavor-wise by Little Rebellions as well as the work of @projectormom and other renegades out there. Fic under the cut. It should be obvious that this is spoilers up through Wanted.

She smiles. Her powder blue hair hides her eyes, but her mouth says it all. Smug satisfaction. Discreetly, mind you. This is a formal preceding that her Diamond was taking very seriously. But she didn’t think she’d be punished for it, oh no. She reaches in front of her to draw two very deliberate lines, crossing out the picture she’d made presenting the face of the traitor. Not very proper for a court record, but it seemed appropriate for one about to be shattered for war crimes of this magnitude. She actually felt sorry for the Zircon assigned to defend Rose Quartz. But not for Rose herself, and not for the rebellion.

She remembers too well the day everything changed. Many do, but not as vividly as she does, even though it was so long ago… ~ It comes in waves, unrelenting. An almost physical force battering at your very being as Blue Diamond’s emotions burst forth. It starts with disbelief and suspicion. The messenger rightfully in fear for her life as she gives her Diamond the unthinkable news.

Many Gems felt it that day, but Pearl felt it most of all. Remaining by her Diamond’s side, as is proper. She’s always there, always the nearest. As the unwillingness to believe starts to fade, the sharp stab of shock hits. Pearl doesn’t hear any of the rest. But she doesn’t have to. She collapses as it feels like a blade stabbing through the gem on her chest, curling in on herself to try and escape the overwhelming force sweeping through the court. Being shattered would have been a mercy compared to this.

Her eyes flood with her Diamond’s tears, making her bangs damp as a puddle slowly forms under her. She’s vividly aware of a keening sound, the deafening cry blending in with the already unbearably crushing emotional force. Is it hers? She can’t tell what she’s feeling anymore, almost as if her entire sense of self is swept away.

But no. One small spot remains. It’s the only thing she has to herself, and she clings to it. At first it’s her own horrifying realization. But then it turns to anger and betrayal. That one was involved in this. And maybe even others like her. And Pearl helped. She helped. She risked her own existence to spread the events of that day, to inspire and keep others strong. And this is what came of it.

She knows what happened. She has every detail, every movement perfectly preserved. And it lets her escape into the recent past. She’d not believed the hushed whispers, at the time. When no one thought she heard, or didn’t care. No one cares about a Pearl unless they need her. But… They did care about this one. And when she appeared, there was a silence.

The leader of the rebellion came into view, an imposing force on her own. She issued a loud declaration of defiance and charged into the midst of the crowd. But that wasn’t the most surprising thing for Pearl. It was the other figure with Rose Quartz. An unmistakable one.

She was slender. Tall, although diminutive compared to whom she was with. The facial features were obvious as well. What didn’t fit were the pair of dangerous looking swords, one in each hand. She was armed, and looked like she had no qualms with using them.

This was her then. The terrifying renegade Pearl. She was real.

What happened next was largely a blur as her Diamond’s palanquin automatically went into a defensive mode, shuttering closed and moving on nimble legs to get out of danger. But Pearl was still able to see some of what was happening. She wouldn’t have believed it if it wasn’t there before her. The near effortless ease as the renegade’s gleaming blades cut through guards, Agates and Quartzes alike. The way she worked in tandem with Rose Quartz. They fought as equals. A warrior and a servant on the same level. It was terrifying yes, but awe inspiring as well. A Pearl could do this?

She wouldn’t dare have said anything of the sort, but she’d been at least morbidly curious about the rebellion for the Earth. And these whispers of the renegade. And there was a brief and quickly suppressed feeling of disappointment as she heard one of her Diamond’s Sapphires foretell of the fall of the resistance, that very day. Moments before the attack.

She supposes it’s only right, after all. The Diamonds know what’s best, and it’s not for those under them to question their authority. Especially not a Pearl.

But even with the disgraceful display of the Sapphire and a Ruby guard fusing, and the scandal of their fleeing immediately after, she couldn’t get the fight out of her mind. And the record she had made was desperate to be told, no matter how hard she tried to repress it. It was insane. The idea of being sympathetic to the rebels was treasonous enough, to actually spread seditious information was nearly unthinkable.

Nearly.

It was several years later when she finally worked up the courage. A Morganite was meeting with Blue Diamond, along with several other dignitaries. Who of course brought their own Pearls with them. Whatever the session was about, even they weren’t to be admitted. Rarely do Pearls have a chance to be alone with others of their kind. Other than the guards at the door, but they didn’t care. Either they didn’t think it worth their time, or they were amused at the silly Pearls acting like they were actual Gems.

Which was just fine by them.

Among Pearls, there are certain customs, greetings and farewells. A small bit of culture and belonging they were able to have to themselves. She decided that this was the time. She actually knew Morganite’s Pearl, although not well. A brief meeting here and there. But more than most. She slowly made her way to the salmon colored Pearl and gave a nod of greeting, followed by a very brief brush of fingers. In an anxious and near silent voice, even more quiet and timid than usual, she stated her intent. All Morganite’s Pearl had to do was say no. They’d separate and move on like nothing happened.

There was a pause of indecision, then agreement. Quickly and discreetly she showed a small projection of the scene. The determination, the fierceness. The terrifying renegade. The display elicited a gasp of surprise, which was quickly forced down and replaced with a look of barely hidden awe. Was this real? When did this happen? The image was cut as they went back to like nothing had happened. She merely nods once. It had. And the implications were bigger than any of them could comprehend.

Over time this story was spread, one at a time. It took some time, but it eventually even made it off planet. Each Pearl only ever told one other, it becoming an unspoken rule. They would only tell the one that they trusted the most. And it was never traced.

But that was a mistake. Sometimes, rarely, a Pearl would take that inspiration and run with it. It could never be proven, and it was never certain if she had escaped, or if something had just happened to her one day. And her replacement wouldn’t be able to offer any sort of explanation. These things happened, but now there was always that question. Was she shattered, or did she escape? Pearl manages to cling to these thoughts. Any bit of support and comfort that was provided by a new traitorous Gem to the rebellion was one extra little step that had let them become stronger. To finally do the unthinkable, the inconceivable. To shatter a Diamond. Pink Diamond’s shards were on her delicate hands, however slight. And now she could feel the results bearing down upon her. But there’s nothing she can do but ride out the storm. Her Diamond’s sorrows, and her own anger and guilt.

~ Pearl brings herself back out of those memories and back to the task at hand, and the pitiful attempts at trying to defend Rose. But now a small bit of justice could be served. If only they were both here on trial, it would have been perfect. Regretfully, procedure did dictate a recess before the trial could close and the sentence could be carried out. But it didn’t matter. It didn’t sound like the Earth would even exist much longer, and that would solve all of it. Good riddance. Although… When the trial resumed, the tone had shifted. The defense had suddenly found her second wind, and started bringing up surprisingly valid points. But clearly they couldn’t matter, even if the officiating Diamonds were becoming agitated. Then she hears something that causes herself and Yellow Diamond’s Pearl to freeze, then look to each other in shock.

“And where was her Pearl?”

#senacat #sena.txt #13th #June #2017 #June 13th 2017 #steven universe #su blue pearl #su yellow pearl #save the pearls #even if sometimes they might not want to be #su pearl #tfw all your major characters have the same pronoun and referred to by the same name #queue it for her

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