oooh may i hear about eddie accidentally making a deal with the devil, pls??
the gist of it is that eddie is drawn to a psychic's shack during dia de los muertos and finds himself making a deal with the devil (who, importantly, is Gina since i started writing this around when the 'ginas apartment' bts dropped lolol) to finally find love. seven wishes, seven chances to get it right, but nothing he's come up with so far has been exactly it.....(and because he doesn't know what he's looking for, he ends up cycling through alt timelines where he ends up with various characters in incredibly not-healthy dynamics until he realizes he just wants things back how they were </3 how were things? whos waiting on his back in the real world? dont ask him!) I think so far my favorite part to write has been when he wakes up married to Taylor, which i shared a bit of here, and a piece attached below!
“Is this not what you wanted, darling?”
“I wanted someone that really loved me, Gina. Someone I loved.”
“Your wish wasn’t about what you loved, hun, you never specified that.” She tilts her head, then, softens. When she reaches for him her nails have retracted to a short almond, skin incredibly soft against his own, her makeup morphed from bright and bloody to soft pinks and sheer highlights. “You can have that, you know. A love that you want, anything – nay, anyone, you choose.”
Eddie squeezes his eyes shut. No, I really can’t.
“I can give you the world, Edmundo,” she speaks in a persuasive sotto, skin prickling as the words dance around him, “you think I would lie to you?”
“Yeah,” he says crazy-style, looks her up and down, “you’re the devil!”
“Toe-mato tah-mato. Come now, give it a try.” Gina sits back straight, hands moving in the air as she speaks. She’s persuasive, really, but that might just be the accent. Jury’s still out. “Say ‘I want to love someone who loves me,’ just like that.”
“Just like that…” Eddie shakes his head free of the words. “Don’t really have a choice, huh?”
“You always have a choice, darling, but you certainly don’t have many left and of the ones you’ve made so far they’ve not been anything to write home about, wouldn’t you say?”
It’s a none-so gently reminder that she is, in fact, the devil. The devil who’s right, he thinks with a dark cloud over him. He hadn’t been cognizant of anything except the intoxicating smell of citrus and the gentle presence of a hopeful body next to his when he signed his soul away, words promising him all he could want in that deep, guiltless voice. If she really could promise him anything – and the run in with Ana had proved miles and above what he expected – then she could tell he was still holding back, couldn’t she? Could he? He can't even wish the right way!
He mulls the words over one last time and bites down a silly request for a polka-dotted elephant. “Fine. I want to be loved by somebody I loved.”
Gina sighs, long-suffered. “That’s not what I said to say.”
“Hey,” he flushes, suddenly embarrassed yet again by the act of wanting, “this is my wish!”
“For better or for worse, it seems.” She snaps her fingers.
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His sister surveys the immediate area, nervously checking the shadows and pockets of darkness. “I wish it was that simple, Evan. I do. But, I can’t-”
“Yes, you can!” If he thought it would do any good he would pick her up and physically drag her away. Except it won’t and he knows it. That knowledge doesn’t stop him from all but begging. “All we have to do is leave and get the hell out of here. You and me against the world. You and me in the world.”
It’s obvious to him the moment she gives up any hope that his plan could work. One of her hands slips out of his grip, reaching up to cup his cheek as a single tear rolls down hers.
also asked by @spotsandsocks @diazsdimples @shipperqueen6 @bi-buckrights @wikiangela
Hi! I’m part of a mental health group on Facebook that I think would really enjoy seeing your piece about not dying until things are better. I was wondering if it’s okay if I post it there? If so, what’s the best way to credit you? Tumblr name or something else?? Thanks in advance!
Yes! You can repost it on Facebook as long as you put a link back to this blog, or just use my @ (chickpeamcb, it’s the same across all platforms)!
Intrigued about all three of course but I have a powerful need for 🕯️🕯️🕯️
“Chimney?” Buck asks, a curious quirk in his brow and bemused curl of his lips. “Why Chimney?”
Dropping his hand from Buck’s shoulder and straightening his spine, he gives an amused shake of his head. “Long story.”
Buck nods, a hesitant yet genuine smile tugging at his mouth—he finds it difficult to conjure much humour, given the circumstances. “Well,” he says, “my friends call me Buck.”
“I know,” Mr. Han—Chimney—says. His eyes fall to the figure at Buck’s hip, his sedate-limp limbs and the convulsion of air in his ribs. He gestures to him with a jerk of his chin. “That’s what he calls you.”
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers! Spread the self-love 💞
ooh, i think my personal favorites of mine are:
1) all your letters in the sand (cannot heal me like your hand)
2) to be loved with gnashing teeth
3) SKINNING YOUR CHILDREN FOR A WAR DRUM (this one's not 9-1-1 but still good)
4) o bury me not on the lone prairie (also not 9-1-1)
and 5) leave a message after the tone (this one's an oldie but i love the epistolary style and i think it holds up)
hi. i just have to tell you that your blog is such a lovely safe place from a lot of the weird shit going on in fandom right now. please never stop sharing your thoughts. <3
waaah thank you i’m glad i can be that <3 this is so kind
