machinegxn
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Loving Mel is strikingly different from loving Abby, as much as he hates himself for even making the comparison. She had been keeping herself and her sister afloat for years through college and medical school, all while maintaining a bright attitude that drew him to her in the first place. She was grounded enough in reality for him to know that she was not wholly innocent, but there was a brilliant allure to the way she interacted with the world despite knowing how cruel it could be. Her polite exterior was mistaken far too often for fragility, even though she may be the toughest person that he has ever met.
When he takes care of her, he knows that it is only because she has allowed him to, not because she expects him to. There is a difference between those notions.
Bookmarked by machinegxn
11 Apr 2026
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The possibility presents itself like one of Al-Hashimi’s last-minute fixes: field tracheotomy. Do or die. A leap that cannot be un-taken.
God, Victoria thinks, am I really about to lose my virginity to this skinny white nerd?
Victoria's night out takes a wild turn.
Series
- Part 1 of First Name Basis
Bookmarked by machinegxn
08 Apr 2026
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“I really thought we could — right there, please, yes — be friends,” she keens, rocking into him.
He’s quick to nod, picking up speed.
“We can be friends. Oh, we can be friends, Mel. We can be anything you want,” Frank babbles into the skin of her cheek.
or: mel and frank and some post-shift fireworks
Bookmarked by machinegxn
07 Apr 2026
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"Leave it," Eddie says, his voice pulled taut like a wire about to snap, tight enough to hum.
Buck looks at him, and Eddie’s whole body has gone so rigid he looks carved from stone, but Buck will ruminate on that later. But he can't exactly leave his phone under the seat for the next eight hundred miles, it's got his whole life on it, every stupid photo he's ever taken of Christopher and Eddie and Eddie and Christopher and, embarrassingly, just Eddie, so many just-Eddies, an entire hidden album of candids he'll never admit to because they constitute evidence of something he's been pretending he doesn't feel.
"I can't leave it, it's my phone. It's got— hold on, I think it slid under your seat."
“Buck, don’t.”
It’s as if Eddie doesn’t even know him, because Buck has never once heard the word don’t and responded with anything resembling obedience. So now he’s stretching across the center console with one hand braced on Eddie’s thigh for leverage, the other reaching blindly into the dark gap beneath the driver’s seat, and he’s aware on some level that his positioning is— that he’s essentially— that his head is—
He’s in Eddie’s lap.
Or,
What's a little road-head between friends?- Language:
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Bookmarked by machinegxn
17 Mar 2026
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Dean takes a really, really long drive to kick fear in the ass. It might just be the best thing he ever decides to do.
~~~
The seat squeaks, and Dean follows the sound, his gaze trailing down. There—where Jack sat moments ago—is a much tinier version of him. He looks mostly the same, just...smaller and more dimply and cuter, if that's possible. His clothes have shrunk to fit him, so he's casually sitting in a t-shirt, jeans, and scuffed tennis shoes. He swings his feet from side-to-side over the edge of Baby's seat the same way Sam used to in the back, and he stares up at Dean with clear eyes.
"Oh," Dean blurts out, eyes bulging, "Cas is going to fucking kill me."
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Bookmarked by machinegxn
14 Mar 2026