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naerys-arryn · 3 months

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What does Naerys think of Laenor?

A lot of things. Not all of them are very nice or true or good.

#naerys arryn #the red falcon #laenor velaryon #fic speculation

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tbtgtr-incorrectquotes · 11 days

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God, reading so much ship fanfic as a pre-teen and teen has rotted my brain, bc why I'm already invested in a possible Nettles/Joffrey Arryn pairing.

I just want Nettles to be happy and Joff A seems like a good egg

No, no, you make sense. Nettles has done everything right in her situation, and we want to see her be rewarded as she deserves (a happy ending with a happy marriage with someone she's flustered over). I think they could be cute too, and if Leonie went there I would not mind, but alas, we must wait and see

#from ada #Anonymous #nettles #fic speculation #joffrey arryn #tbtgtr #the blacks the greens and the reds

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flyingseacow · 4 months

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Ok ok ok.

Finished Cult of the Lamb (right in time for the next update)

And now I got all these thoughts.

Like the bishops?

People are already doing so much interesting stuff with Narinder, so I got nothing new there. But the others?

Leshy is interestingly enough the most elaborate and thoughtful of them, the snippet about his crown was almost poetic.

Kallarmar however, he really surprised me. Based on his previous behavior, and what the others said (including ???) I had expected a frightened sniveling crybaby, not this calm sassy thing. Not only does he seems to be the most accepting of their new life, he is super calm and friendly with the lamb.

Then I realized.... Oh. Kallarmar has already gone through his worst nightmare. He has already died, multiple times. And since the lamb has done no new harm to him, he has no real reason to fear as long as he is a good little follower. (helps that he got the absolute cutest voice) Oh yeah, and the fact that not only does he claim he was pressured into helping with binding Narinder, but also that his relic summons a skeleton - one that seems very clearly to be based on Narinder?? I have thoughts.

And Heket? Heket seems angry, but reluctingly accepting of her new life. And I realized, after what happened with Shamura, Heket was the one keeping the bishops together. For a thousand years, she was the only real thing holding up the old faith. Shamura too wounded to handle it. Leshy too young and well, chaotic. Kallarmar just wanting to hide away in his temple. She must have been under so much pressure. And she is the next youngest in the group!

Shamura is just such a tragic character. I had expected them to be more damaged without their crown, but seeing how disoriented and stuck in memories and half addled thought they are? Damn.

When I gave them the spider silk their reaction was a gut punch. I had this clear mental image of them running the silk though their fingers, mumbling to themselves, barely aware of the lamb.

Ugh, I really hope Sins of the flesh gives more lore. I got all these feels.

#cult of the lamb #fan speculation #I am gonna end up expressing all this in fics #I just have no overall idea #just all these snippets of scenes and feelings

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quotergirl19 · 2 months

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Colin: You seemed to enjoy your dance with Lord Debling.

Penelope: I did. He’s the first gentleman who has ever wanted to dance with me.

Colin: That is untrue. You and I have danced many times.

Penelope: Lord Debling actually wanted to dance with me. He made me feel like I was special to him and said I was lovely. You only ask me to dance out of pity. You do not count.

#Quotergirl mini fic #Hit him with the you do not count Pen!!!#polin #bridgerton #bridgerton season 3 speculation #netflix bridgerton #colin x penelope #penelope x colin #penelope featherington #colin bridgerton

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chronurgy · 6 months

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Gortash designs and builds mechanisms so I imagine he has to be able to sketch fairly decently in order to sketch his projects and designs. And I'm imagining a pile of charcoal sketches of Durge, done over their entire acquaintance, starting out with sketches of them in battle and then slowly becoming more detailed and intimate and as they do, the titles changing from things like "The Bhaalspawn" and "Bhaal's Chosen at Their Bloody Work" to "The Chosen in Contemplation" and finally just Durge's name

#it's speculated that the individual pictured in these sketches is [name] who was thought to have resolved the absolute crisis #But the existence these drawings may suggest it was merely a hoax to improve their reputation #Idk man I just love the idea of Gortash keeping this series of sketches of durge #I admit a crazy fic idea I've been rotating is the idea of an art history commentary set 100 years after the events of the game covering #The art found in Gortash's estate after his death and how people would interpret it and their potential relationship #And link to first hand descriptions of the time and academic papers and all that #Stuff like “see Elerrathin et al for analysis on the class dynamics of formal portraits and new money during this period” or something #enver gortash #dark urge #dark urge x gortash #durgetash #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 spoilers

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romainlettusdinnerparty · 1 month

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HOLY SHIT THIS IS SO BIRTHDAY GATE CODED

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kittybricks · 11 months

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Do You Love the Colour of the Sky? (Or: This Must be the Place)

(I apologize for the resolution in advance. Still troubleshooting.)

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watchyourbuck · 21 days

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do you mind? im pining

Eddie lifted his glass, bringing it to his lips, but just as he was about to take a sip, his gaze shifted, and he saw Tommy reach for Buck’s hand, their fingers intertwining. Water sprayed from Eddie’s nose and down his chin as a violent cough erupted from his throat.

He slammed his glass onto the table, sitting upright as he coughed into his hand. His eyes watered, but he couldn’t tear them away from the scene before him.

He hadn’t imagined it.

They were holding hands.

OR: 7x05 spec fic. Buck and Tommy have their first date. Eddie is jealous about it. (Includes Buck and Tommy making out at the loft + Eddie dealing with complicated feelings towards his best friend).

Read on ao3

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loserdiaz · 24 days

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hi so i watched this sneak peek and then i blinked and next thing i know ive written this thing.... i might use it for a s7 fic or i might not. so.... yeah, enjoy ig.

"You've been acting weird all week, Buck. What is it? Talk to me."

"It's like that thing when you meet somebody and you just click." Buck repeats the words that have been haunting him for weeks. He lets the bitterness and fear that have been choking him, suffocating him, slip off his lips.

He is not fine. It's the thing.

He could usually go over to Eddie’s house and let himself in whenever he wanted. He could— spend all of his free time with the guy and with Chris and feel like he's at home.

And sometimes they still do that.

Except Tommy is there most of the time, too. If it's not a night at the bar after a long shift where they want to unwind and Tommy just enters, confident and smiley and so unbothered by anything, it's Tommy inviting them to a fight or a game or whatever.

And Buck likes the guy. Hell, he has fucked the guy himself.

It's just—

He misses Eddie. He misses Eddie when he is right there in front of him, and it hurts. It hurts in a way Buck hasn't felt in a long time.

"Buck, what the hell are you talking about?" A slight crease forms in between Eddie's brows. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"It's what you told me, when we were talking about Tommy."

"So? Now I can't have any more friends?" Eddie raises his eyebrows, and Buck knows he's sounding... insane, needy, clingy. All of the above whatever.

"You can. I just—" Buck lets out a slow breath. "I hate change, okay? And I hate—"

"Nothing has changed."

"Eddie, everything has changed." Buck lets out a startled, sharp and bitter laugh. It sounds hollow and wrong, even to his own ears.

It stings. Like taking a sip of tea so hot it burns the roof of your mouth or like digging your finger against a tender bruise that hasn't quite healed yet.

"Everything has changed," Buck whispers, looking helplessly into Eddie’s eyes. Because unlike before, now he knows that the jealousy he feels, the unreasonable possessiveness he feels... it's because he is in love.

He is in love with Eddie Diaz.

#april rambles #april writes #911 spoilers #911 speculation ig???#911 season 7 #911 s7 #911 s7 spoilers #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie #buck x eddie #buddie fic #buddie ficlet #911 drabble #911 abc #911 on abc

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tommykinard6 · 9 days

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Should I be eating and resting? Yes. Am I? No, so come join me for a dissertation on Tommy Kinard being lonely.

Edit to add a note since I saw a reblog about it: Tommy has no canonical age right now and Lou is 39, 40 later this year, so that is my basis for saying he’s 39.

Now when I say lonely, I don’t mean that he has no one whatsoever. I can picture him going for drinks with his team or having some Muay Thai buddies that he could call up if he really was inclined. Maybe an old army buddy or two.

But there’s something about Tommy that’s just achingly lonely, both when he was at the 118 and now at Harbor.

Tommy had a broken home, or some other kind of unstable childhood. Maybe his parents split, maybe he was mistreated, maybe he was in the system or was passed around family members. Maybe he was isolated as a child because he was a little overweight (I think Lou said something along those lines) and was bullied. I think Tommy didn’t really have any friends until high school, when puberty hit and maybe he started working out and probably joined the football team. I don’t know if anyone remembers what teenage boys are like, but I can imagine they were the same as they are today back in the 90s/early 00’s. Because around this time, Tommy might’ve started to realize that something was very different about him.

Now this isn’t a meta about how I think Tommy dealt with his sexuality (maybe I’ll do one of those later) but I think he never would’ve risked his football friends knowing even if he himself could acknowledge it, which I doubt. So he messed around, got in trouble with these guys, hung out with the bros, and pretended to be interested in girl talk.

Of course, eventually, his buddies all got girlfriends and he was always the odd one out again.

He didn’t do college. The army was his next step. And I feel like this might have been the first time in his life he wasn’t lonely. He’d learned to blend in by this point and he worked with some great people. But as he started making real friends for the first time, he also started losing them as the war tore them away.

Tommy left the army and joined the fire department. There was an aching hole where the camaraderie of the army had filled previously and with no education beyond a high school diploma, Tommy thought the fire department would replicate that. Not the police though. He’d had enough of guns.

(And ohhhh now so many ideas on his thoughts during the sniper)

But he ended up at the 118 and quickly realized that his team had maybe more of a DADT stance than the army. He realized that he had to put on an elaborate act to fool his fellow firefighters, who had more time on their hands and more prejudice they were willing to wield to pick apart his life. Tommy, who maybe had only just started to acknowledge he felt differently about guys with less panic than before, had no choice but to backslide. He acted and acted and crafted a person he wasn’t until the day that maybe he was. Sal was his closest buddy at the 118 and Tommy had no doubt that Sal would be one of the first to make his life hell. Gerrard seemed to look at Tommy as some sort of mentee. Boxed in by two notorious bigots, Tommy had never felt more claustrophobically alone.

Chim was the first one to reach out a hand of friendship, or at least the first one that didn’t come with caution tape, but he was also an “other” and Tommy, who was confused and afraid and had just had his captain call his bluff on his fake girlfriend, lashed out. Then he allowed Chim in and Chim wasn’t interested in being besties but he was a great drinking buddy and movie buddy and Tommy felt safest around him.

Then Hen came and Tommy watched her get the same treatment he was afraid of. Not that he had to worry about the racism, and he was aware of the privilege, but Hen didn’t exactly hide herself and he watched them bully his lesbian coworker. He let himself get pulled into it all and hated himself for it, but was too cowardly to break away from it. He wasn’t sure why Hen had forgiven him, but she became the only other person on shift he felt even a little safe around other than Howie. But then Chimney and Hen became best friends and Tommy fell to the wayside. They still included him, sure, but they were always a pair and there was something there that Tommy didn’t know but longed for. A closeness he’d never felt.

A best friend. A juvenile idea to him, but one he’d never truly had.

Then Gerrard was gone and Sal got transferred and the 118 moved forward under Captain Nash, but Tommy felt left behind, even in what was the most united A shift team yet. Because he was over 30 and was starting to be unable to ignore everything that he’d had to hide under Gerrard, as he no longer had a distraction from it.

He’d been a pilot in the army, so he transferred to Harbor. And Harbor was great. He wasn’t best buds with anyone (he was starting to think that was never in the cards for him) but his team didn’t carry the same baggage that the 118 had.

So Tommy started to come to terms with himself. He started to date for the first time and came out to his team. And he had several boyfriends, but most couldn’t handle the job or his baggage or the desperate need he had to be wanted. His most long term partner cheated and the one he fell hardest for couldn’t deal when Tommy was injured on the job. Even within his own relationships, he felt like he was destined to stand alone.

Tommy was 39 years old and alone, as always, when Chimney walked back into his life, dragging an adorable and also extremely hot blonde and a stoic brunette that radiated ex military in a way only ex military could know. And then Hen was there and they were trying to rescue their captain and his wife and they clearly loved each other fiercely and like family.

And as Tommy listened, flying through the remnants of a cat 5 hurricane, he thought to himself that he should’ve never left. Simply just never found himself if only that meant being part of the family the 118 was now. However, he knew deep down that he still would’ve been alone and on the outside.

And they rescued the survivors and Tommy thought that was it but then Eddie wanted to hang out. And they liked the same things and had similar experiences and Tommy couldn’t help the hope. Because the loneliness had grown stifling and now he could breathe a little. And then Evan, the cute blonde, wanted a tour of the hanger and he thought that maybe he was being hit on.

And then at the end of it all, Tommy was left realizing that he’d wedged himself between two best friends and that was what happened when he allowed himself to hope. So he went to Evan to apologize. He would get Evan and Eddie to talk to each other and then would fade into the background.

But then Evan was sweet and apologetic and told him that he was part of the 118 family simply by helping them. Tommy couldn’t help it. Here he was, at 39, with a little boy still waiting inside of him to be soothed. And Evan was hot and sweet and Tommy couldn’t help himself.

And he really liked Evan. Evan was adorable. But their first date didn’t go as planned and Tommy knew he was already whipped. So he removed himself before someone could get hurt. Evan deserved better and so did he, even if the loneliness was stifling again.

But then Evan texted him and looked at him with sparkling blue eyes over too sweet coffee and wanted him. Him. He wanted Tommy and to have something with Tommy and he wanted him to come to his sister’s wedding with him.

And Tommy looked at him and saw someone who could finally fill the ache he’d felt his whole life. He saw a man who he knew he wanted to take a chance with. All he had to do was jump.

And he did.

And it wasn’t solved, not immediately and never fully. Too many wounds were left gaping for too long to ever heal. But for the first time in his life, at 39, with the 118 surrounding him and Buck as the sunshine at his side, Tommy finally felt at peace.

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honestlydarkprincess · 24 days

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oh, bi the way

buckley sibling feels || rated: g || wc: 663

Buck knocked on the door, his hands shaking slightly. He blew out a breath and bounced on the balls of his feet while he waited for Maddie to answer the door.

The door opened and Buck felt himself relax as his older sister came into view. “Buck? Hey, I wasn’t expecting you! Come on in.”

Buck followed behind Maddie, closing the door behind him. “I’m sorry to drop in on you without calling, I just— I needed to talk to you.”

“You don’t have to call, Buck,” Maddie said, giving him a soft look. “You know that. Our door is always open to you.”

“Thanks, Mads,” Buck mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck in a nervous gesture. “Uh, you might want to sit down.”

“Okay, now you’re scaring me,” Maddie said, hesitantly sitting down at the kitchen table. She gestured for Buck to sit next to her but he shook his head and stayed standing. “What’s going on, Buck?”

He swallowed roughly and let out a shaky sigh. “I need to tell you something. I— I, uh, kind of only just realized this? It’s new. Very new and I’m— I don’t— I don’t know how to say it.”

Maddie watched as he paced in front of her. “Hey, Buck, look at me. There’s nothing you can’t tell me—“

“I think I’m bisexual,” Buck blurted out, cutting her off.

It was quiet for a beat and then Maddie gave him a gentle smile, standing up and holding her arms out. “Come here.”

Buck folded himself into her arms, making himself smaller and letting out a shuddering breath.

“Thank you for telling me,” Maddie whispered, stroking her hand up his back. “I know that wasn’t easy and I’m so proud of you, Evan. I really am.”

“Thank you,” Buck mumbled, squeezing her tight. He still felt shaky, adrenaline in his veins. He’d known that Maddie would be nothing but supportive but coming out was still scary as hell and she was one of the most important people in the world to him.

“Let’s sit on the couch,” Maddie said, nudging him towards it. “You’re shaking.”

Maddie led him to the couch and they sat down, Buck leaning his head on her shoulder. Her arm came around him and her fingers settled in his hair, playing with it gently and making him relax even further. They sat like that for a while, with Maddie just calmly carding her fingers through his hair and Buck waiting for his racing heart to settle down.

“Have you told anyone else?” Maddie asked when Buck finally settled.

“No, I wanted you to be the first,” Buck admitted shyly.

Maddie squeezed him closer, pressing a kiss to the side of his head. “I’m honoured.”

“Do I have to tell the others?”

“You don’t have to tell anyone you don’t want to,” Maddie said firmly. “If you want to tell the team, I know they’ll be more than supportive but if you aren’t ready there’s absolutely no rush, Buck. You decide when you’re ready. If at all.”

“Thanks, Mads,” Buck mumbled. “It’s not that I don’t want to tell them— or that I think they’ll be unsupportive— it’s just…it feels like a big thing and I don’t want anything to change. I hate change.”

“I know you do, but just remember you don’t have to do anything you aren’t ready for, okay?” She moved so Buck had to look her in the eyes. “This is something that you control. When and if you’re ready, the team will be there to support you. They’re our family. Everything will be okay.” “Will you be there?” Buck asked, looking at her with wide eyes. “When I tell them?”

“If you want me to, I’ll be there in a heartbeat,” Maddie squeezed his hand, giving him a bright smile. “You can count on me.”

“I know,” Buck smiled. He held his hand out for her to lock her pinky with his. “I always can.”

read on ao3

#jess.fics #jess.writes #my writing #my fics #the buckley siblings #buckley sibling feels #evan buck buckley #evan buckley #maddie buckley #911 #911 abc #911 on abc #911 spec #911 speculation #911 spoilers #911 abc spoilers #911 abc speculation #7x04 #7x04 coda

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naerys-arryn · 3 months

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Pretty sure Nettles will still exist here (whatever she ever comes to the attention of the Targs is another story), here's to hoping Daemon doesn't name her "Naerys" here 😬

She will exist and be part of the story at some point. Daemon’s manwhoring ways cannot be stopped.

#anonymous #the red falcon #fic speculation

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tbtgtr-incorrectquotes · 6 months

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Who do you guys think should be Leonyra's heir now? Jocelyn or little Viserys?

I'm in favor of Jocelyn because she's older, and they don't have to rest all their hopes on a baby that could die at any moment because of childhood sickness and Jocelyn has proven herself an adept warrior and already has a husband lined up along with being a brave child.

Although, Leonyra's skipping of the twins for Aemon is a sore point for this whole heir thing so maybe Viserys might be considered the preferable option while naming Jocelyn Viserys's heir for the time being?

#Anonymous #tbtgtr #the blacks the greens and the reds #fic speculation

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mellaithwen · 16 days

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To hum and sway (bucktommy, 1.4k words)

[read on ao3]

Spoilers/Spec-fic for 7x06 "There Goes The Groom" After the wedding that wasn’t, and the wedding that was, after the search, and the rescue, and the drama of the day, Buck finds himself sitting in the hospital waiting room when Tommy turns up...

Now that Chimney’s been moved out of the ICU, the hospital staff have kindly set up a cot bed in his room for Maddie to get some rest beside him, while Buck stands—or rather–-sits sentry outside. While his sister clearly couldn’t have predicted she’d be reading out her vows standing between a heart-rate monitor and an IV stand, Buck’s just glad she was able to read them out to Chim at all.

A nurse shuffles past Buck down the corridor, and he pulls his legs back from where they’d been obnoxiously extended in his late-night exhaustion. He runs a hand through his hair, grimacing at the bright fluorescent lights of the waiting room before stretching his neck and shoulders until he hears a satisfying pop.

His hands clench into tight fists on either side of the chair he’s sat in, and he grips them tightly until his knuckles are white and the pain of his own nails digging into the flesh of his palms is enough to distract the guilt spiral he’s been fending off all day.

Maddie and Chimney will get their big-day. Buck will make sure of it. They’ll have the party that they rightly deserve, surrounded by their friends and family. A happy day, a calm day. The quiet, intimate ceremony in their own back garden that they’d wanted all along before losing track of the guestlist.

But that would be later. When they were both ready, and recovered. At least for now they got to wear the rings. At least they got to call each other husband and wife.

Finally.

“Evan?” Buck’s head shoots up from where he’d been lying back, leaning his heavy head against the wall.

There were so few people who called him by his given name nowadays...

His parents had long since left to do what they referred to as “damage control” with the guests and venue—since the rest of the 118 were more concerned with Maddie and Chimney than appeasing distant relatives who had traveled just so gosh darn far, Evan.

He’d corrected Bobby almost instantly on that first day so many years ago, that his name was Buck, and besides, his captain was currently driving Mr and Mrs Lee back home for the evening after spending so many hours in the same holding pattern of he’s stable—that’s the main thing—until Chimney had finally woken up and insisted with a raspy voice, that his Captain marry he and Maddie right then, right now...

And Eddie? Eddie had only ever called him Evan the once.

(Buck would be lying if he said he didn’t think about that moment often…)

But no, it wasn’t him either; Eddie was with Hen, roaming the corridors for a vending machine that worked until Bobby came back to bully them all into finally getting into his truck and going home. So that just left…

“Tommy? W-what are you—?”

“I came as soon as I heard he’d been found. How’s Howie doing? How’s your sister?”

Buck’s brain struggles to keep up, his software in need of an update—Tommy’s here, standing in front of him. In the hospital corridor. Buck’s phone was god knows where, and with Chimney missing and his sister losing her mind with worry, he hadn’t had a chance to think about the fact he’d accidentally ghosted his date. But here he was. Standing in front of Buck like a guardian angel who’d done more than his own fair share to help in the search—all the while still wearing the clothes he’d put on as Buck’s plus one to the wedding that never happened that morning.

This is probably the closest thing to flustered he’s seen Tommy look the whole time he’s known him, and if the circumstances were different Buck thinks he would have found it endearing—but his head’s too much of a mess to even go there right now. The soft blue shirt he’s wearing is rumpled now but Buck just knows it would have been pressed and clean to start with. The slacks and matching suit jacket are both a wooly kind of mauve. Buck thinks it would have been nice to press up against the material as they slow-danced at the end of the evening. The lights would be dimmed, while the wedding band played something slow. He wonders if his parents would have noticed. He finds he also doesn’t really care.

He remembers Maddie and Chimney’s kiss under a symphony of high-pitched beeps, and the mumbled static of a tannoy announcement requesting a doctor’s presence in triage. Jee had clapped her hands in Mrs Lee’s arms before pretending to throw invisible flowers in the air just like she’d practiced with her uncle Buck.

How’s Howie doing? How’s your sister?

“They’re—” Buck falters when he finally answers, genuinely unsure in the grand scheme of things. If he were to answer literally, he’d say they were sleeping. But emotionally? Physically?

“They’re…”

Chimney’s in the hospital. Maddie almost lost him again, and if Buck looks down, he knows he’ll find that there’s still patches of dried blood on the sleeves of his ruined pink jacket—remnants of the day, along with the pounding behind his eyes that he just can’t seem to shake.

Tell Maddie—

No, no Chim, don’t you dare make me do that, you can tell her yourself, okay? Just stay with me. Eddie’s gone to get help and Maddie’s waiting for you to come home—

“They’re married!” Buck finishes with a laugh that’s incredulous only so far as the circumstances of the last twenty four hours have made him seriously question his own sanity. Or maybe that’s just the last dregs of adrenaline leaving his head in a spin.

“Bobby performed the ceremony, but Chimney wore the white-gown this time.”

He’s deflecting. He’s searching for humor, for the laugh to be had at the absurdity of it all. He’s the class clown disrupting the other kids because he didn’t hear what the teacher said and he’s trying not to panic. He’s overcompensating at the academy because he has no support system to speak of in LA, and he needs this. He wants this. He can’t flunk out. He can’t fail.

He’s pushing and pushing and pushing to see where the boundary lies, to see how far he can go before he disappoints the family he’s found at the 118. He wants to know where that line in the sand is. How long until the tide comes in? How long until he drowns?

He’s….. he’s exhausted. And when Tommy tilts his head to the side and frowns, reading Buck like an open book of sad tells, suddenly the effort to keep the mask in place is too much. His shoulders slump and Buck’s whole body hunches forward with the weight of the day pressing down on him—only to find Tommy’s arms there ready to catch him when he falls.

“He nearly died,” Buck whispers into the crook of Tommy’s neck as he’s embraced. “Chim nearly died and if we hadn’t found him when we did….”

His voice cracks, the words seemingly too painful to even speak into the universe. Buck can’t bear to say more, and Tommy doesn’t ask him to either, he just pulls him in closer, squeezes him that little bit tighter, and holds him there for as long as he needs. He brings his hand up to the back of Buck’s neck, gently kneads at the knot he finds there. Cradles him like he’s something precious and deserving when for so long he’s convinced himself of the opposite.

After a time, when Buck’s breathing starts to even out, the hitch in his chest seemingly dissolved into the atmosphere, and the shock has thawed enough for him to feel the soft material of Tommy’s jacket under his fingertips, he finds that Tommy has been slowly moving their bodies into a sway. Leading, just a little bit—really they’re barely moving at all—but if Buck pretends, he thinks he can hear music playing.

“You said you wanted to dance,” Tommy says; answering the question Buck hadn’t gathered up the courage to ask yet. For the first time in hours, Buck’s mind goes quiet.

“Thank you,” he whispers a little self-consciously when the words catch in his throat.

Thank you for coming, thank you for holding me, thank you for being here with no judgment and no expectations. Thank you for caring when we barely even know each other. Thank you for treating me kindly, for being gentle and soft when all day I’ve felt like I was being strangled with barbed wire. Thank you.

When Tommy hums in response, Buck can’t help but lean into the embrace, finding solace in his arms. He can feel the warmth of his breath drifting along the side of his neck, soothing the goosebumps that reside there.

And when he presses a soft kiss on the stubble of Tommy’s jaw, it tickles.

-fin.

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glorious-spoon · 24 days

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to loosen his grip [9-1-1 | Buck/Eddie]

~1k words | eddie & tommy; pre-relationship eddie/buck

spec fic for 7x04

-

The thing is, Eddie's not stupid.

Eddie's not stupid, and Buck's about as subtle as a brick to the face on a good day. He can't help it. Everything he's feeling comes spilling out of him; keeping it inside seems as impossible for him as holding the tide back with a leaky sieve. It's not something Eddie relates to that much, honestly. If anything, he's got the opposite problem. He crushes everything he's feeling into a tight little knot and holds onto it with white knuckles until he can't hold on anymore. It lost him Shannon—would have lost him Shannon even if she'd lived—and it nearly lost him both his job and his sanity in the end. He's still learning how to loosen his grip.

Buck still needs to learn how to get a grip, like, at all.

So yeah, Eddie knows. Not right away; he doesn't really think anything of it when he picks Tommy up from the hanger and Buck is there. In the truck, he watches Buck's receding figure in the rearview mirror for a moment before Tommy says, "Not trying to poach Evan from the 118, I promise."

He's laughing about it a little bit. Eddie scoffs and says, "Buck? You'd have to pry him out of that house before he'd go anywhere else."

He doesn't mention the lawsuit. That's water long under the bridge now, and it's not a time in his life he likes to think back on that much. But he knows it's true; Buck can say whatever he wants about keeping his options fluid, but when he finds people and a place he wants to keep, he hangs onto them.

Tommy is good company, anyway. It's something he's missed, since the Army: the easy camaraderie over beers, sitting in a shouting crowd in Vegas, shooting the shit in a bar afterward. Tommy's got a lift, and he brings his abuelo's Chevelle over, and it's an easy slide from that into a half-casual bout of muay thai, and Eddie has missed that, too: sparring just for fun, just for the hell of it, not for the money or because his demons were going to claw themselves out of his chest with bloody nails otherwise.

"See you've caught some lead," Tommy observes once they're done, bruised and a little breathless, shirtless on the bench in his garage. Eddie caps his Gatorade and glances up, and for a second he doesn't even know what Tommy is talking about until he nods at Eddie's right shoulder and asks, "That from overseas?"

Eddie touches the bullet scar, a long-healed dimple by now. It's not that noticeable anymore, at least from the front. The surgical scars from his thoracotomy are still more obvious, but even they've faded.

"Oh, no," he says. "I mean, yeah, I did, but this one was right here in L.A."

"Right, the sniper," Tommy agrees. "Shit. I remember seeing that Captain Nash caught a bullet. Didn't realize you were the other one from his house that got shot."

"Yeah, well." Eddie shrugs, uncapping his Gatorade again. "It was a long time ago."

He likes that, too. Talking about it with someone who never saw the bullet hole, only the scar. Talking about it with someone who's never had his blood in his mouth, who never knelt above him in a speeding truck and begged him to hang on.

He lied to Buck about it, because Buck's so close to it that he might as well have been shot too. It's easier like this, because Tommy isn't wounded by the memory; Tommy shrugs and asks if he wants to grab a pizza after this, and Eddie slings a towel over his shoulder and lets Tommy pull him to his feet, and they have pizza and a couple more beers, and it's easy. He's missed easy. He thinks he deserves to have something easy, for a change.

-

"I mean, I think it's great," Buck says, apropos of pretty much exactly nothing a couple of days later. "You can never have too many friends, you know?"

He's vibrating with that exact same anxious energy that Eddie remembers from his first day at the 118, when Buck seemed one wrong move away from pissing on the exercise equipment or maybe shoving him down the stairs. It awakens some puckish little part of Eddie that can't help but needle him. You're standing in the wrong light, man, as if he's ever in his life had an opinion about photography lighting, but it got Buck to bristle and snap like a wounded dog, all electric fury, and Eddie liked that, too, for reasons that he understands better now than he did back then.

So he shrugs, and he says lightly, "You know, it's like that thing when you meet somebody and you just click. You know what I mean?"

It's a jab, and not a very subtle one. He still remembers standing in the sunlight and listening to Buck tell him that Natalia saw him, after Eddie watched him hang there in the rain and felt his chest unmoving beneath his palms and sat through those endless hours in the fucking hospital waiting for him to wake up. After Eddie brought him home, and listened to his quiet confession in his kitchen, and tried as well as he knew how to hold Buck's still-beating heart gently.

But sure. Natalia saw him. For all of four months, apparently.

He thinks he wants Buck to flinch and snap back, just a little. It's not the place for it—they're in the middle of a goddamn call—but he's stupid about Buck. Always has been.

Buck doesn't flinch. He sags instead, his mouth downturned, and he mutters, "Yeah. Yeah, I really do."

And it's something they should talk about, maybe, but then Ravi calls up for more slack, and there are other things to focus on for the time being.

#911 #911 spoilers #911 speculation #buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #tommy kinard #petty eddie? petty eddie #sliding this one JUUUUST under the wire lol #my fic

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chronicowboy · 1 year

Text

When Connor finally comes over to the loft, Buck can only think thank god.

Its not that he doesn't like Kameron, he actually really enjoys her company. She's funny and bubbly and enjoys learning whatever new facts he'd found on Wikipedia that day and she has killer commentary for shitty reality TV.

Its not even the whole pregnant thing. He laughs when she balances her plate on her belly and he always braves her adventures in craving combinations even if it ends with him gagging and swearing never to eat tuna or jelly ever again - sidenote: chips and whipped cream is a new go-to snack.

He's just fed up of feeling like a perpetual roommate in his own apartment yet again. And his couch fucking sucks.

Also, like, its great that Connor and Kameron are starting to talk things through.

But his couch sucks.

So, when Connor comes over looking sheepish and apologetic, Buck welcomes him in with a smile. Kameron... not so much.

"I'm... gonna head upstairs," Buck mumbles into the awkward silence of the kitchen, "and get into my running gear." He nods once before fleeing up to his bedroom.

Buck dives for his headphones when their hushed voices start hissing at each other, connecting them up to his phone with fast hands and blasting his workout playlist as loud as he can bear. He strips efficiently, pulling on a pair of shorts and a tank top in the bathroom when the voices get louder. Then he's rushing downstairs and grabbing his sneakers, wondering if it would be wise to run all the way to Eddie's house.

His hand is an inch away from the doorknob when Connor stops him. With a silent sigh, Buck pops a headphone out and turns to face the scene in front of him.

Kameron is leaning on the kitchen island, palms flat against the marble, fingers curled under her hands, head hung low. Connor is wide-eyed and pleading, his grip on Buck's wrist tight and unyielding as he keeps him fixed to his spot.

"Buck, tell me you could raise a kid that wasn't yours," he begs, something frantic to his voice. Buck thinks he recognises the fear in Connor's eyes, thinks it looks a lot like Chimney haunting the loft weeks after Hen and Eddie had returned home. Not a fear of covid or DNA, but a fear of fatherhood cloaked in a thousand defences. "Tell me that it wouldn't bug you every single day."

Buck blinks. He opens his mouth, but something thick and cloying crawls up his throat and stops the words from coming out.

He sees flashes. Too-long curls and crutches and glasses. Nights spent huddled on a couch in front of the same shitty kid's film that Buck would happily watch a hundred times over, days spent hunched over worksheets at the dining table, mornings heavy with sleep but light with joy. Trips to the zoo, visits to the aquarium, tours of the observatory. Nightmares and tears and a run away on his doorstep. Sodden clothes and clasped hands and such visceral fear that Buck had thought he was dying. Saying no to one last game, mixing veggies into the sauce, putting his foot down on screen time. A bag full of pharmacy supplies and the tiles of the bathroom floor cold under him and growing pains Buck feels in his old bones.

"It wouldn't," Buck croaks, it feels a lot like a confession. "My captain has been more of a dad to me than my father ever was." Buck shakes his head, shrugs. "Its not about DNA, Connor, its about love."

"But." Connor's chest heaves with panicked breaths. "So, you'd do it? You'd raise another man's kid?"

Buck recognises the fear again, but this time its his own. Connor is feeling the same fear that had Buck staggering through the ravaged streets of Los Angeles. The same fear that had Buck withdrawing, trying to chase Eddie and Christopher out of the door with a list of all his sins. The same fear that had Buck reminding Eddie of Christopher's biological family. The fear Buck feels every time he has to say goodbye to Chris.

Its then that Buck's phone buzzes. He glances down at the new notification. A picture of Eddie scowling down at a cookbook captioned uh oh - backup needed ASAP.

"Oh," Buck breathes down at the screen.

All the flashes suddenly comes together, one beautiful mosaic of parental devotion.

Buck remembers the way Chimney's dad's words had lodged something sharp and painful into his chest, remembers wondering why. He remembers a quiet conversation on opposite sides of a hospital bed, remembers wondering why me. He remembers scribbling hearts together for an assignment, remembers its his turn to save you. He remembers wondering if he could be a donor not dad and Eddie asking if he knew any of Christopher's secrets.

"Buck?" Connor prompts.

"I'd do it," Buck says, only looking up from his phone when it fades to black. When he says it, it sounds a lot like you know I wouldn't. "Because... even though that kid might not be my blood, he'd still be mine," here, his voice cracks right down the middle. "I'm sorry, I have to go."

"What? Buck!"

"Sorry." Buck yanks the door open and looks over his shoulder with an apologetic shrug. "My kid needs me."

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