satanic panic circa 85

hello lain. yellow it is! from some original work:

Ricky’s room, thankfully, is a little brighter when he turns on that light. A pale yellow washes over the space and shows Ellie a tidy room with a dresser, an open closet, and a well-trodden grey rug. Ricky’s bed is a queen, unmade but the sheets look fresh enough, dark blue with a green and blue plaid comforter. There’s a pile of pastel green shirts on the floor by the half full laundry basket. Ellie doesn’t have long to look because Ricky is in his space almost as soon as they walk through the door.

“What kind of night are you looking for, exactly,” he asks, fingers sliding up the back of Ellie’s neck and threading through the short hairs at the base of his skull. It feels good, so good. Ellie tilts his head back into Ricky’s touch.

heya!! okay, here's sleep from a buddietommy soulmates au i started over a year and a half ago where tommy is buck's soulmate, buck is eddie's, and eddie is tommy's. t r i a g l e!! anyway:

"Did you? Figure it out?”

Eddie was quiet for four reps. “[Eddie and Marisol] broke up,” Eddie admitted, helping Buck guide the bar home.

Buck sat up and pulled the bottom of his shirt up to wipe his brow. He caught Eddie watching him and squinted. “You—you were that upset about the nun thing?”

“I don’t know,” Eddie said, “we weren’t compatible.”

“Because of the nun thing?”

Eddie moved two weights off either side of the bar. “There’s other stuff but yeah, the nun thing was a lot.”

Buck frowned. “But you weren’t avoiding us because—because of anything else? We really miss you, man.” Buck stands off up off the bench and they swap places, Eddie laying back on the bench and Buck at the front, keeping his hands under the bar.

“We can hang out soon, okay?” Eddie said and Buck didn’t notice that he’d never actually answered his question until hours later, half asleep in the bunk room in the bed next to Eddie’s.

hello hello! here's surprise from a buddie wip titled hurt no comfort in my drafts:

"Come on," Eddie complained, "you're covered in flour!"

Oh. Buck had forgotten. He let Eddie slip away. "Sorry!"

Eddie wrinkled his nose at him and then smiled, leaning into his space to his kiss him on the mouth. It surprised Buck, Eddie's plush lips against his own. He rushed to get off his apron, breaking away from Eddie long enough to pull it over his head. It ended up on the floor between his feet. Eddie's feet. Trapped like Buck was now, between Eddie and the counter. Buck tucked his hands against Eddie's face and smiled, delighted.

hiya! i was so sure i had to have soup SOMEWHERE, i even went into my original work wips and somehow? nowhere to be found. here are three(ish) brand new sentences of the lighthouse au for you:

"Do—do you want to see?" Evan asked, clearly nervous and doing a bad job at pretending otherwise.

Tommy looked at Evan, really looked at him, and saw someone he liked. The bone deep certainty he'd had over by the rocky shore calcified. Yeah, he wanted to see. He wanted to know everything there was to know about Evan. About both of them.

you stumped me! ive got nothing. here's three new sentences from my lighthouse wip:

Evan had been waiting at the door, opening it as soon as they approached with his eyes big and shoulders hunched. Evan was a big person, but he seemed so small then and Tommy hated that he had a part to play in that insecurity. He wanted to reach out, to comfort, but he tucked his hands away in the pockets of his borrowed pants.

hi jessica :) here's hand from the buddietommy lighthouse au:

“Where did you get these from?” he asked, reaching out to touch a fish Evan must have caught, though Tommy had yet to see any fishing gear; hadn't seen him <i>fishing</i>. It was huge, scales shining in the sun. In one hand Evan help a thick knife and in the other he held down the fish, cutting into it. He was covered in fish viscera and blood, tongue poking out between his lips.

There was something wrong with Tommy that he found Evan cute like this.

“Went fishing,” he said, distracted. There was a blueish tinge to the curve of his cheek, almost like a bruise but it not stark enough to be one.

“You have poles?” Tommy asked. “I could have helped.”

Evan looked up, eyebrows furrowed. “Pole?”

good evening. here's slip from the second chapter of the buddietommy lighthouse au:

“We were wondering where you went,” came a voice from behind. Tommy didn’t turn away from the ocean. His eyes slipped closed.

Eddie’s shoulder brushed his when he settled at Tommy’s side. He didn’t speak again, but Tommy felt his warmth through the wool of his sweater.

Tommy shuddered. He wondered how they decided Eddie would come check on him instead of Evan, what the conversation was like. Did they draw straws? Was Eddie’s the short one?

Maybe he was overreacting. Evan was still...Evan. Nails and scales be damned, that was Evan.