willthecries



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  1. Summary

    Dorothy Campbell doesn't know who she is. She never got the chance to properly grieve her best friend and only family before being shipped away to an island and constantly trying to survive 'til morning, so how the fuck does she figure out how to live now? When she drops off the face of the earth after returning to Texas, intent on figuring that the fuck out, she doesn't think she'll be missed. She's very wrong.

    Fatin Jamandi is fucked up enough. Her parents are still fighting, maybe worse than ever. She was stranded on an island for a while, almost dying SEVERAL times. She can't sleep, and yet never wants to get out of bed. And now the girl she's in love with has disappeared, whether by choice or not unclear. How could her life possibly get worse?

    Leah Rilke is there to pick up the pieces for her best friend as she pines and falls apart. And maybe she's in love with said friend. But it isn't about her, it's about Fatin, and so she shoves it down and survives. Except maybe she's really angry.
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    Or, 3 different intertwining character studies as they figure out friendship, mental health, trauma, grief, and--most pivotally--how to navigate being in love, maybe with more than one person at once.

    Words:
    9,324
    Works:
    2
    Bookmarks:
    2

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    It all seems so easy for him.

    Why is he so comfortable being away from her? Is he finally starting to wise up to what everyone else did- Ellie isn’t good enough? Is he starting to realize this kid is just a burden, a pest, a troublemaker who isn’t worth all the strife she brings?

    Is he regretting bringing her here with him?

     

    (Ellie worries about being apart from Joel in Jackson- so the logical solution is to sneak out and eavesdrop on Tommy and him at the tavern)

    Language:
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    16 Jun 2026

  2. Public Bookmark 78

    Words:
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    78

    13 Jun 2026

  3. Public Bookmark *

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    12 Jun 2026

  4. Public Bookmark 84

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    12 Jun 2026

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    "You, uh, you ever heard of—of a prostate massage?" Buck asked. He had his hand resting on Eddie's shoulder now, with Eddie still holding onto his wrist.

    Eddie huffed out a laugh best he could. "Don't tell me you learned that in, uh, in Peru." He said, trying to keep his voice light and joking as if it would dispell the tense air lighting up the room. As if it could hide the way he felt himself twitch in his briefs hearing Buck say prostate massage.

    Buck smiled, not quite laughing as he replied. "No, that one is from other sources." He said. "Really good for stress relief, though. Tried and true."

    Eddie shifted underneath Buck, feeling the stiff flagpole tucked away in his pants. He was leaking steadily now, the front of his underwear damp and sticking to him uncomfortably. He let go of Buck's wrist, bringing his hands up to sit underneath his head while he arched his back ever-so-slightly up towards Buck.

    "If you think it'll help." He says, hoarse and much more sultry than he meant.

    OR

    the platonic prostate massage fic

    Language:
    English
    Words:
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    Comments:
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    11 Jun 2026