livesincerely
i am a dragon and unwritten fic ideas are my hoard
Ciarra. She/Her. Let's talk stories, shall we? Find me on Ao3 writing tagged as *the writing desk, general fic musings under *editor's noteMasterlist
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you wouldn’t last an hour in the asylum where they raised me
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put those big brown eyes away dude now is NOT the time
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one day I’ll finally write that ridiculously elaborate fanfiction that I’ve been carefully constructing in my daydreams for months and then you’ll be sorry. you’ll all be sorry.
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hyperfixations are so embarrassing like nooo don’t look I have a crush. on this tv show
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It’s such a lost opportunity that Percy never got to meet Neptune. Like actual eldritch horror Neptune who has no attachment to Percy or desire to look human. Neptune who hasn’t been seen in 500 years. Neptune who is the manifestation of every fear you’ve ever had about the ocean. And he understands why the Romans don’t honor him.
I just think that would be neat.
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reblog to make prev stop having headaches
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“Eddie,” Buck says, with an exasperated edge—like he’s been calling his name for a while.
He’s moved out of his chair to kneel down on the kitchen floor at Eddie’s feet, head tilted up to catch his gaze, like he thinks the closer proximity will make it easier for him to hold Eddie’s attention.
And, well, it does. Just not in the way Buck probably means for it to.
“Sorry,” Eddie says, unrepentant, raking his eyes over the massive swell of Buck’s biceps, the sharp wings of his collarbone. “You’re kind of distracting.”
“I’m— I’m distracting?” Buck sputters, incredulous. “Have you seen you?”
“Can we please be done with the talking part, now?” Eddie interrupts before Buck can really get started, trailing his fingers up along his shoulders until he can cup his hand around the nape of his neck. “Please?”
“Eds,” Buck huffs, even as he settles into his touch. “I’m trying to make sure we’re on the same page, that I don’t hurt you.”
“Are you planning on hurting me?” Eddie questions mildly.
“Of course not—“
“Then you won’t,” he says. “I trust you. Stop worrying so much.”
“Uh, I am precisely the correct amount of worried, thank you—“
Eddie tips forward and slots their mouths together in a kiss.
Buck’s mouth falls open around a shocked little exhale and his lips part ever so slightly, soft and wet against his own. Eddie presses his advantage, flicking his tongue against the ridge of Buck’s teeth—tentative at first, then teasing—and it’s like things just spark, embers smoldering until they burst into flame.
Buck kisses Eddie with a single-minded determination that makes his heart beat double time in his chest. He licks into Eddie’s mouth like he’s starving for it, like he might devour him whole, his hands tight around his hips, and Eddie can’t help but arch into him, desperate for his touch.
He tugs at the hem of Buck’s tank top, separating just long enough to pull it over his head, then he’s trailing greedy hands over all that bare skin. Buck retaliates by sinking his teeth into his bottom lip—it stings deliciously—and he slides his hands into Eddie’s hair, tilting his head just so, kissing him deeper, and good god, this man.
It’s like he can’t get close enough. He’s all but hanging off the edge of his chair as their mouths move together, wrapped up in Buck’s arms, surrounded by that mouthwatering scent, and it’s still not enough. He’s aching somewhere deep within, some primal instinct trying to claw its way out of his chest and make its home inside of Buck’s, and it’s the easiest thing in the world to get his legs up around Buck’s waist and draw him in until they’re tangled together, a matched set.
Buck makes a low, hungry noise against his mouth. Then there’s a hand under his thigh, another high on his back, and then Buck’s scooping him up and rising smoothly to his feet.
They don’t go far: Eddie’s ass lands on the kitchen table, and there’s the rustle and clatter of Buck sending a roll of paper towels, a bag of recycling, and a pile of unopened mail to the floor with one huge sweep of his arm.
“Eager, are we, Buckley?” Eddie pants against his mouth, a thrill of arousal shooting down his spine.
“Oh, I’m sorry, did you want me to wine and dine you first?” Buck volleys back, his gaze dark with desire. “Because I’m more than happy to take things down a notch—“
Eddie shuts him up with another kiss.
#bits & bobs#buddie#buddie fic#911 abc#911 abc fic#*the writing desk#*editor's note#preview of the next chapter#hope you enjoy it!
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oh you think you're soooo fucking smart. with your fucking convoluted pretentious sentences
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guy who makes a spreadsheet to figure out if his crush likes him back
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jean valjean: yes cosette i am your father mother have this doll you are safe now i love you there is no danger here
jean valjean 5 minutes later: shit it’s the feds run child FUCKING RUN AND HIDE
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Reading Fic Pre-Posting: No typos whatsoever. Reads well. Flows beautifully. I have definitely found all possible spelling and grammar errors.
Reading Fic After Posting: A typo every three lines. Ten grammatical errors. Switches tense twice. POV changes for no discernible reason. Uses the word “look” five times in one sentence.
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Finding someone that understands The Character™ the same way you do
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