#hint a lot because tommy is involved | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

letmetellyouaboutmyfeels · 3 months

Note

why are people so against oliver and ryan talking about buddie, don't we want this, don't we want buddie to be canon? i'm sorry are we rooting for buck to end up with tommy or something, like I don't understand why so many people are saying stop asking them about buddie?

If we want Buddie then shouldn't we be asking buddie questions? I mean I'm so sorry but I'm just very confused, shouldn't we be happy that buddie is getting this much press and love? Why are we against it?

Okay, this is going to be a long one.

There are a few reasons why people are concerned about publications teasing Buddie happening and using the ship name and asking Oliver and Ryan about the ship. I'll try to be as concise as possible.

I would like to note, I'm not going to answer a bunch of questions about this. Other people have answered similar questions plenty of times, if you take a bit to look around 911blr. I'm sure @catdadeddie has gone into this a few times.

However, I understand that we are getting a lot of new fans this season, and so I want to try and explain comprehensively for those who haven't been around. I hope this covers everything.

Whenever a ship is between two people of the same gender as opposed to two people of the opposite gender (I know, I know, but we can't get into the gender spectrum right now just play along with me), everyone involved has to be very, very careful when it comes to talking about that ship ahead of said ship going canon.

It is very easy to slip into something called "queerbaiting." I'm assuming that you and most people online and in fandom by now have heard of this term but just in case: queerbaiting is when a show acts like a queer ship might happen in marketing and promotion in order to draw in a queer audience.

Historically, this was done by having a main character played by a woman have a romantic thing with another woman (flirting, even kissing!) who was a guest star, hinting at the main character's bisexuality/queerness, only for that guest star to never come back and for the show to act like it had never happened. This was done during something called, IIRC, "sweeps week" which was basically an important week for TV viewer ratings in the 90s. It was a way to boost your numbers by drawing in queer viewers with the promise of actual queer rep that then wasn't realized. It's a marketing tactic.

Nowadays the nature of queerbaiting has changed a bit. It's an overused term that frankly people love to (mis)use whenever a ship of theirs doesn't go canon and a show dares to do things like having two people (like say Ryan and Oliver) who play the two halves of the ship do an interview together (whether you ship Buddie or not, they are close friends, and it makes sense that they'd do a few interviews together - that is not queerbaiting). A good example of real queerbaiting is Rizzoli & Isles which, among other things, took out billboards and magazine spreads showing the characters (two women) in suggestively sexual and romantic positions and with slogans hinting that the two had more than just friendship together, then never, ever delivered on it and in fact laughed at the idea of the characters being gay for each other.

(I WAS THERE, GANDALF!!!)

Because of this unfortunate treatment of queer audiences and the (historic) dearth of actual queer characters and queer ships going canon (it's getting better but still), networks, showrunners, and so on have to be very careful when, say, they want to make a queer ship canon.

Look at how ABC handled Chenford, a popular ship in their show The Rookie. Chenford was not a planned ship - the fans adored the chemistry between the two characters (Lucy Chen and Tim Bradford), the writers liked the idea and decided to lean into it, ABC gave the go-ahead, and the ship officially got together and went canon last season. ABC heavily promoted Chenford and the ship and made a lot of jokes about it in the last couple of seasons leading into the ship going canon, using the ship heavily in their marketing.

ABC cannot necessarily do that with Buddie, because even if Buddie is going canon, until that happens, they could get accused of queerbaiting. There's a much bigger minefield to navigate because of this historic misuse of queer audiences and queer characters.

So whenever journalists and publications use a popular non-canonical queer ship name for clicks and fandom interest, if that ship doesn't immediately go canon or if the network/showrunner/etc doesn't say "yeah they're totally gonna kiss! with tongue!" people accuse the show of queerbaiting. This is unfair to the show for two reasons: one, the network is not going to bother sending "shut the fuck up" letters to every single damn publication out there for using a ship name in their headline and talking about a ship - they'll be accused of homophobia and it draws even MORE attention to the issue re: the Barbra Streisand effect (look it up); and two, the people involved in the show are NOT going to spoil the anticipation and surprise by admitting ANY ship is going to go canon before it does.

This is simple marketing - the movie trailer doesn't (or shouldn't, anyway) show you the ending of the movie or everything that happens in it. TV shows want you to tune in every week and speculate and guess. They're not gonna spoil a ship ahead of time.

This means that when journalists and articles pull this shit, they're putting the showrunner, the writers, the actors doing interviews, and the network in a bad situation that they can't really do anything about. Not without causing more mess.

So that's reason number one why a lot of us are annoyed: by yelling about Buddie, these articles and journalists are setting the cast and crew we love up to get yelled at for queerbaiting if Buddie doesn't immediately happen, and there's nothing the cast and crew can do about it, and it's all so the journalists and articles can use us, the fandom, for clicks. So we're also kinda getting used here, and it doesn't feel great.

The second reason we're annoyed about Buddie questions is that it's being asked of the actors who, nine times out of ten, have ZERO CONTROL OVER THE STORYLINES.

Now, there are exceptions. Jennifer Love Hewitt, who plays Maddie, has pushed back on a couple storylines that were given to her and has therefore had a strong hand in shaping Maddie's character. One infamous (in a positive way) example is that Maddie and Eddie were supposed to be an endgame couple. JLH, however, immediately loved the character of Chimney and clicked with Chim's actor Kenneth Choi, so she asked if Maddie could get with Chim instead, feeling he'd be a better fit for her character. And lo, both the beautiful ship Madney and the insanity that is Buddie shipping was born because Buck ended up stepping into that co-parenting-Chris role that Maddie obviously would've originally filled.

However, it should be noted that JLH was an established star before coming onto 9-1-1, and her husband is friends with Tim the showrunner. I would argue that the only other two actors who have any power on their storylines are Peter and Angela, the latter because she can do whatever she wants forever, and the former because (like Angela) he is an executive producer on the show.

It's not that actors never ever get to have a say ever, but the writers, showrunner, and network have much more power. They create the storylines, they make the decisions. Not actors. So when the actors are repeatedly asked about a ship, they're put in an awkward position where they might not even know the full storyline for their character that season and now they need to answer in a way that doesn't reveal any information they do know, but also doesn't insult shippers or dash their hopes. This is a double minefield for queer ships because, again: historic insults to queer fans and characters, nobody wants to be offensive.

The third reason is that this fandom has, historically, treated Tim, Oliver, and others like absolute dogshit over Buddie not going canon. Oliver's left Twitter and taken big social media breaks because of how he was yelled at online. It's not cool, guys. Vent all you want but directing it at the cast and crew isn't okay and maybe if it was just you talking sternly that would be fine (maybe) but when it's dozens of people? It's bullying. Full stop.

Every single time Buddie has not gone canon instantly, the actors and others have gotten verbally abused on social media. Every time the actors have been asked about Buddie and not said "ohmygod yes I want it to happen so bad" (they are not allowed to say this because it might create false hope because again: historical queerbaiting) they've gotten yelled at. We are tired of the actors getting yelled at over something over which they have no control.

The fourth reason is that Oliver, especially, has gotten asked about Buddie a LOT. A lot. The poor man is very tired. He's been cornered about Buddie and asked about it aggressively by certain journalists (one journalist, Max Gao, actually tried to corner Gavin who plays Chris over Buddie - this was a few years ago so Gavin was even younger than he is now and I personally think that is an incredibly unfairly loaded question to give to a child).

If I may dive into speculation for a moment, given how the actors have been SO gleeful about the move to ABC, the fact that they've admitted ABC is letting them do storylines and little moments that FOX wouldn't, and a few other things I won't get into here because this damn thing is long enough already... I suspect FOX would not let Buddie happen. If this is the case, then actors being asked about Buddie is even more loaded because they are being asked questions about it and they can't say "yeah we want to but the network won't let us." THEY WILL GET FIRED FOR THIS.

But, whether or not my speculation is true, the fact remains that when you are repeatedly, over and over, aggressively asked if this fan ship is going to happen or not, you get tired. There's only so many times that someone can give a diplomatic answer before you just want to snap "stop fucking asking me!" Journalists love to take advantage of fandom and social media chatter to get attention for their articles so asking over and over again about Buddie isn't because they genuinely care or think it'll happen, it's to get shippers reading their article, and so bombarding the actors and writers with this question when they've already kinda said their peace a lot about it is frustrating. Just! Leave them alone!

And AGAIN: if this was a M/F ship there could maybe be room for teasing the will-they-won't-they but because of historically bad treatment of queer characters and fans, THEY CANNOT DO THAT. So the only option open to them is to KEEP THEIR MOUTHS SHUT. And keeping one's mouth shut and threading that diplomatic needle for years is EXHAUSTING.

We do want Buddie to be canon, nonny, and in my opinion we are going to get it. All this recent PR supports that, (again: in my opinion).

However, we have seen Oliver get bombarded with what he thinks about Buddie until the cows come home, and he deserves a break. There's nothing new he can say, there's nothing new he's allowed to say. We have seen other parts of the fandom scream that we're being queerbaited because Buddie didn't instantly go canon, without any consideration for the fact that a) queerbaiting is a marketing tactic and b) there might be other factors at play preventing it going canon. We have seen journalists take advantage of us, the shippers, in order to get attention, and we have seen them create an awkward and embarrassing atmosphere in interviews by repeatedly asking about the ship. We have seen shippers make us look bad by hounding the cast and crew on social media about Buddie, treating every woman actress who plays a Buck/Eddie love interest like shit (yes, I know about Edy, but she could be a saint and parts of the fandom would still go onto Instagram to call her names), and generally being absolute pills that would tempt any showrunner, actor, or writer to say "y'know what fuck 'em let's not make Buddie canon I'm not rewarding this shitty behavior."

"If we want Buddie then shouldn't we be asking Buddie questions?" No. Not like journalists and fans have been. It's something to bring up - in my opinion - sparingly and with an awareness of how queer storylines and ships and fandom have been mocked, ignored, baited, and so on over the years. They don't ask about Buddie because they give a shit. They ask because they want our clicks for their ad revenue and they want our retweets and likes and comments. And it's certainly not something to bombard the actors with on social media and bitch at them if it doesn't happen. It just makes the rest of fandom look bad and makes us look like children.

Additionally: These are not new questions! They're not only asking these questions now that it looks like Buddie will go canon, with serious hope and consideration based on the marketing and storylines. They've been asking this since season fucking two, when Buddie was clearly not planned, just to get fangirl (gn) clicks. They wanted to get attention and teehee over how Oliver/Ryan/whoever reacted to people thinking Buck and Eddie should touch dicks. 'Kay?

We know the pattern. So when every piece of media is screaming BUDDIE!!! we are not seeing it as "OMG could we go canon?" We see it as another round of being taken advantage of for article attention, another round of parts of the fandom being bullies and yelling about being baited, and another round of the actors being backed into uncomfortable corners.

That's why we're concerned, worried, and annoyed.

*collapses* I hope this covered everything and explained it all.

#mads answers things #THIS IS SO LONG OH GOD #I wouldn't know concise if it smacked me in the face #making this rebloggable for now so people can spread the information if they find it helpful/informative #but the moment there is clowning (derogatory) I'm turning reblogs OFF I do NOT have the patience #I spent an hour working on this instead of the F&F AU so like not to sound aggressive but this BETTER have answered y'all's questions LOL

253 notes · View notes

look-at-the-soul · 16 hours

Text

Every little thing you do- Part 8

Tommy Shelby x reader

Master list

A/N: another part, another thank you for reading and following this series! I had the initial idea for this chapter for Tommy and Y/N to witness something that brings them closer, then I realized it got longer than I expected 🫢 so I’ll have to hold the introduction of another character for the upcoming part 🤭 bare with me in this ride! And enjoy the slow burn 🥰

Word count: 3,595

Gypsy poem mentioned

“Mr. Benston, what do I owe the pleasure of your call?” Tommy held the receiver against his ear.

“Mr. Shelby I hope you’re doing well.”

Tommy rolled his eyes at the fake sentiment, he wanted to end the call as soon as possible.

“There’s really no other way to tell you this, but here it goes…” Tommy heard him sigh at the other end. “Rumors are spread easily and unfortunately, people believe it wherever it’s true or not.”

“I’m not following you.” Tommy stated, getting annoyed by the minute, he wanted everything done right and fast. “Where do you want to go with this Mr. Benston?”

“Mrs. Benston overheard our maids talking about the woman in charge of the charity, I know she’s close to your family and I’m not judging you, to be honest. But if I’m donating money I don’t want it to be involved in gossip and rumors.”

Leaning on his desk, Tommy looked at the ceiling and felt his jaw clenching. “What rumors are you talking about?”

“The maid assured my wife, this woman in charge…”

“YL/N. It’s Miss YL/N.” Tommy corrected him.

“Miss YL/N doesn’t know who the father of her child is. At some point she even mentioned the child is yours therefore why you put her in charge of the charity.”

The last thing Tommy wanted for Y/N was this exactly, having her rolling from mouth to mouth, people taking about her, walking over her reputation. The realization hit him hard and he pinched the bridge of his nose in a attempt to remain under control.

“There are morals and values we still swear by Mr. Shelby… and you can have as many children outside marriage as you please, but the charity needs a woman who’s at certain level, a match for our society.”

“Mr. Benston so your main concern is Y/N’s reputation because she’s not married.” He swore under his breath. “Or because you’re unsure if I’m that baby’s father.”

“That’s correct.”

“With all due respect, it’s a personal matter so that’s none of your business in the first place.” Tommy took a deep breath. “Secondly, how would it make you look in front of your beloved society if people knew about the affair you had with your maid, which led her to get pregnant with your child and since your wife wasn’t able to carry one, you stole that baby from the mother and locked her in a mental hospital?”

A heavy silence set between them.

Tommy knew a lot of dirty secrets and a bunch of respectable people who were everything but respectable.

“Hmm?” He added more pressure to the wound. “Mrs. Benston has been doing a wonderful joy raising a boy that isn’t hers by blood, a Benston heir right?”

Again, silence at the other side.

“Maids are a wonderful thing huh? They know a lot of dirty little secrets…”

Y/N strolled through the Shelby Company Ltd. under the curious eyes and glances of the secretaries, she definitely noticed the way they stared at her from head to toe, stopping an uncomfortable amount of time in her belly.

What were they looking at?

Why would they turn around and start mouthing to the closest secretary something she couldn’t understand?

Fixing her eyes on the floor, she decided to keep walking, this would happen sooner or later, she just needed to create an armor around her, a strong shell to protect her and her baby from judging glances and people with bad blood.

Knocking softly on Tommy’s door, she opened it and poking her head she found him inviting her in, but she got the hint to remain quiet while he was on the phone, so she took seat in one of the couches, her legs were on fire, she wanted to take a long bath.

“So I think from now on, you’ll double your generous donation Mr. Benston correct? Did I hear you right?”

Throwing a quick glance in Y/N’s direction, he winked at her. The phone call turned around quickly and ended with Mr. Benston being backfired,

“Yes, the Shelby Institute feels so thankful for your selflessness. Bye.” Hanging up, Tommy turned around to place the phone in its place.

Y/N raised her eyebrows. “What was that?”

Tommy cleared his throat and went on to pour himself a glass of whiskey. “Just a really wealthy man willing to donate the institution a generous amount each month.” He explained with a wicked smile.

Tommy felt bad for lying to her, but he couldn’t bare to hurt her. He just hoped the word wouldn’t spread like gunpowder around.

“Oh… well I just came to show you the numbers Michael did, considering what we already raised,” she sighed loudly.

“What is it?” Tommy eyed her from the corner of his eye.

“I don’t know what’s going on outside but all your secretaries were giving me strange glances, as if they’ve never seen a pregnant woman before.” She chuckled.

Tommy’s head snapped in Y/N’s direction, her words caught his attention, he was always a step ahead of everyone and everything, how could he didn’t see this coming?

Something made click in his mind instantly. Someone must’ve spread the word around, therefore the sudden call he got and what Y/N just mentioned. Feeling a sudden urge to protect Y/N, Tommy decided to do something to distract her, he didn’t want her to suffer and pay for something that wasn’t her fault.

“Come with me.”

And Y/N did, she followed him because she knew there was no way to say no to him. She waved at Esme goodbye on their way out, a few days ago she announced her pregnancy with barely a bump, and now Esme was showing almost as her.

“May I ask how is the business doing?” Y/N asked in a low tone, wondering if she was interrupting his thoughts. Shuddering in the process, that business was almost a secret, the Shelby brothers were communicating through glances when anyone else was around.

“No.” Tommy answered in a serious tone but then wrinkles appeared around the corner of his eyes when he smiled. “Don’t be noisy.”

“I’m not noisy.” Y/N pouted.

“Yeah sure.” He was back into his usual self teasing and joking with her. “Do you know Russian?” Y/N shook her head. “Then you can’t help.”

“Ah come on, you don’t speak Russian either.”

Squinting his eyes, Tommy started speaking.

“save ami se

hi slobuzenja

ami jaul

o lungo drom”

It took Y/N several seconds to catch his words, but her mind suddenly remembered.

“You’re a bad liar.” She immediately went back in time, an ancient Romani poem he showed her years ago, but he was making a Russian accent. “in the forests

we respect

animals flowers trees

when we build our fire

we always clean up after us.” She continued the translated version.

Tommy gave her then a surprised look. “You still remember it?”

“Proud gypsy.” Y/N nodded.

How could she ever forget? How couldn’t she go back in time to that day when she went to play outside and meet a boy that was pretending to ride a caravan -a made shift with a sheet and pulled by a horse. He was shy and reserved at first, but she was fascinated by the endless stories he told her about his gypsy roots and tales on the road.

She spent hours listening to him speaking roca -with the proper translation of course-, and eventually he found the poem in his mother’s notebook.

“Even then, you were always worried about everyone.” She noted.

He had always been protective over those who he loved.

“Bad habits die hard.” Tommy chuckled, his childhood wasn’t always easy, but she definitely made it better.

Y/N wondered how different he would be if things happened differently, if his mother was still alive, if they didn’t have to go to the war… if she didn’t thought Scott was a good distraction. But she was forced to put her thoughts aside, as she felt urgency to pee. “Can you stop the car?”

“Why? What happened?”

“Just stop it… I need to take a wee.” She explained embarrassed.

Tommy looked around, they were in the middle of nowhere. “Let me get closer to those trees.”

She bit her lower lip, pray he’d hurry up. “Are you sure an animal won’t bite me here?”

“If something bites you it doesn’t matter, just spit in the wound.”

“That’s gross!” She defended.

Tommy gave her an amused look. “You don’t know right? Pregnant women salive is full of properties that cuts off the venom of snakes.”

The surprised look Y/N gave him assured Tommy that she didn’t know.

“How do you know that?”

“A snake bit me back in the day, my Mum was pregnant with Ada she used her spit and covered the wound with a clean cloth and here I am, strong as a horse.”

“Do you always have to refer to an animal? What’s wrong with you?”

His chuckle resonated into the deepest parts of her soul as she climbed out of the car to find a safe place to take a wee -as safest as the trees could be of course-.

Tommy took a cigarette, he was aching for a smoke. The road was practically deserted, but still he was always looking around, keeping an eye just in case. Anything could happen in a blink and he needed to be alert.

“Are you done?!” He shouted over his shoulder, just to piss her off.

“Would ya give me a fucking minute?!” Y/N shouted back mortified.

This wasn’t practical at all, she felt like an animal in the wild, but this was all she got for now and she needed to stick to it. Besides it wasn’t like she could hold it for so long.

Cleaning herself she tried to rush back to the car, huffing from the effort. “Sorry about that, can’t control it.” She apologized getting in the car again.

Tommy held the passenger door open for her while blowing the smoke in the opposite direction.

“It’s alright, needed to stretch a bit anyways.” He grinned. Who would’ve told him he’d stoping his car in the middle of nowhere for a pregnant woman to pee. “So… did Polly tell you already?” Tommy asked giving her a side glance.

Y/N couldn’t help to smile big. “I asked her to not tell me. Did she tell you?”

Tommy started rubbing his chin, a soft smile decorating his lips as he kept his eyes on the road again.

“Don’t tell me, I just want this baby to be healthy.”

“I really don’t understand how she knows, but she got Ada’s right and I remember she did the same with my Mother when she was pregnant with Finn.”

“She could use her talent and charge for it.” Y/N joked about Polly’s gift to predict the baby’s sex.

“See, that’s a brilliant mind, always sell your abilities.” Tommy encouraged. “Alright, this is it.”

Y/N noticed Tommy took a right and entered a different road. The property was as big as his own house. She could only think how tired she’d be to have to go from one room to another, poor maids who had to clean everything.

The gardener tipped his head towards Tommy knowledging him, while he moved as if he owned the place. Y/N following his steps, feeling like she really didn’t belong there.

“Need to have some rest? It’s a long way.” Tommy looked over his shoulder to make sure she was doing okay.

“No, I’m fine.” Her eyes stopped at the pond, it had fishes.

“Gold fish keeps the worms away from the horses.” Tommy explained, reading her mind.

Y/N gave him a doubtful look. “Are you messing with me?”

But Tommy shook his head. “Never, I swear it’s true. It helps to keep the water clean.” He crouched down, inviting her to do the same. “Go on, you can touch them.”

To show her it was alright, Tommy tipped his hand inside, making a circle with his finger.

When she was about to dip her finger too, Tommy spoke again.

“Careful, they can bite your hand off.”

Y/N gasped in shock at first, then when she realized he was only joking, she laughed. It was a strange sensation, the skin felt flaky against her touch made her giggle.

“I hope the horses won’t eat the fishies.” She added and then saw Tommy rolling his eyes. “Oh what? You’re the only one allowed to make jokes?”

Y/N shook her hand towards him, making a few drops land on his suit and vest.

Tommy clicked his tongue and pretended as if he would throw water at her. Y/N squealed giving her back at him, feeling like they were teenagers again playing by the river.

“Follow me, I want you to meet Apollo.”

“Your horse has a name?” Y/N asked perplexed.

“Of course, they all do.” He pointed at the floor for her to be careful with the hay. “This good boy is going to win the next Derby.”

Y/N saw Tommy stood in front of the box and gently caressed the animal, taking his time to ask how he was doing, check behind his ears and take a look at the mare’s body. He had always been a horse’s man, the amount of time he spent brushing that white horse his mother gave him, no one knew where it came from, but Tommy assured her it was a fine horse, he had magic in his eyes and now she was witnessing the way the horse followed Tommy’s steps like he was kind of under a spell.

Y/N noticed the way Tommy’s energy changed, it was indescribable but he turned into someone completely different. They were in a bubble, in their own little world, like they were one soul divided in two bodies.

And it almost made Y/N feel jealous of the closeness and complicity between Tommy and his horse, she could hear him whispering sweet little nothings and the way the horse made little sounds in response.

Then the horse stared at her and started moving slowly, tipping his head down. At first Y/N was shocked to feel the moose against her stomach, but Tommy told her it was alright, his horse wouldn’t hurt her.

“It’s like he knows I’m pregnant?”

“Oh he does,” Tommy nodded, “I just told him.”

“Is this another of your jokes?” She laughed nervously as the horse breathed against her baby bump.

“I never joke about horses, Y/N. He knows there’s a life growing inside you, they understand more than we do.”

There was something in his blue eyes that she couldn’t name, something that was making her hold his gaze. Something so profound she never experienced before. It was both terrifying and calming at the same time.

And then, as if the moment wasn’t intense enough, she felt her baby wriggling inside her for the first time.

“What is it?” Tommy asked with concern in his voice.

“The baby… is moving.” She explained.

Grabbing his hand in a blunt movement, she placed it on top of her blouse, giving him a few seconds to feel the movement against her side.

“Oh wow.” Tommy finally managed to feel a small but determined movement against his palm.

“Over here.” She changed his hand in another direction. Her hand covering his, she could feel Tommy holding his breath as his eyes shot up to find hers, surprise written all over them, this was something he had never felt before.

“Is this something good?” He asked in a whisper.

“I think the baby started moving when the horse was close, like the baby feels the horse around.”

Was this what a new life felt like? The miracle of a tiny human growing inside her?

Tommy could feel his heart about to explode, to be able to experiment something so personal, so profound, something that wasn’t meant to be his.

He, the ruthless leader of a gang, the heartless Small Heath Devil, there he was with tears blurring his vision and emotions making him feel things he had never felt before.

This baby wasn’t born yet and it was already his weakness.

The only time she had seen Tommy cry was when his mother passed away. He rarely allowed his emotions to the surface and Y/N knew too well this meant to him so much more than he could than he could actually put into words. Her unborn child somehow managed to get under his skin, past the high wall Thomas Shelby had built around him.

And now she was emotional too.

Tommy had been nothing but a gentleman to her, looking after her every need and wish during the hardest time of her life. And instead of pointing a finger and judging her actions, he welcomed her under his wing to protect her from the cruel world outside.

Without a doubt, Tommy was the best man she knew.

“It feels like a huge butterfly’s wings fluttering.” She explained.

Tommy felt lost for words, there was nothing he could say that could match what he felt.

A part of him felt guilty for stealing the baby’s father place and get the chance to experience all of this, but the other part told him he wasn’t doing anything wrong, because the baby’s father actually chose not to be involved. And in that moment, he made a silent promise to look after that child as his own.

Someone clearing his throat interrupted them. “I’m going to clean the barn, and the smell can be a bit strong for the lady.”

“Yeah, sure.” Tommy muttered, still altered by his feelings, so he turned around and walked his horse into the box, then he guided Y/N outside.

And then he did the only thing he knew when he wasn’t sure how to deal with his feelings. “I think it was the way your baby is telling you about his or hers future horse.”

Y/N gave him a shocked glance. “No, no way. Tommy you can’t buy my child a horse!”

“Who’s gonna stop me? You?” He scoffed. “Besides, I‘m that baby’s godfather remember?” Tommy announced proudly.

She groaned. “Don’t make me regret it.” As they started walking towards his vehicle, Curiosity won her over. “Who lives here?”

“My horses’ trainer.”

“No way, really?”

“Her husband passed away so she took over his business and with her family’s wealthy, well she became filthy wealthy.”

“So the horse training is just a hobby?”

Tommy shuddered not wanting to get too deep into that conversation. “Probably, once you have money you always want more and more.”

Y/N took his hand when he approached the other side of the vehicle.

The weight of his words sinking in her mind.

“That’s how it works? That’s what you want? More money?”

Tommy swallowed hard, Y/N always knew what to say to get his attention, the truth -he sometimes didn’t want to hear-, always hanging from her lips.

“That’s just how the world works, Y/N.” He replied instead. “Money can buy anything.”

He was right, he was just proving that by recently buying a mansion, he already had three cars parked in his garage, eight horses plus the ones under training, he paid for a staff at his house, paid the cops, he was also paying the remodeling of the building they’d use for the Shelby Institute and everything that was needed. And last but not least, he was paying her salary and a monthly amount of money for her baby already, the sapphire he recently gifted her and endless other things.

The echo of his words silenced her own.

Y/N decided then to turn her head away from him to look outside on the road they were leaving behind.

But you can’t buy love. Can’t buy happiness either. So… is it really worth it? She wanted to say, but instead the words kept playing in the back of her mind.

“Before I forget…a man came looking for you at the Institution.” Y/N explained shaking her head a bit, her mind felt funny at times and she forgot things.

“Who? When?”

She saw the frown in Tommy’s face. “A few days ago, he seemed strange if you ask me, wearing clothes as a priest, said he’d supervise th-”

“Fucking Hughes, why didn’t you tell me sooner?” He demanded frustrated.

“Calm down, I-I forgot.”

“This is important and delicate, Y/N you can’t simply forget those things.” Tommy snapped not aware he was hurting her feelings.

Until a little sob escaped her lips and Tommy felt like a piece of shit.

“No, Y/N I’m sorry shouldn’t have talked to you like that.” He didn’t want to upset her. “Sorry I’m just trying to keep you safe, away from this…”

“I should‘ve told you sooner.” Y/N took a deep breath. She didn’t know what’s gotten into her, that reaction wasn’t like her. “I didn’t like him, but I thought he was related to the operation.”

“If you see him again, don’t tell him anything.” Tommy held the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles turned white. “I’m going to place some blinders guarding the Institute.”

Y/N turned to look at Tommy and by the tone in his voice, she felt worried.

Tag list: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @datewithgianni @cloudofdisney

@gretelshelby @garrison-girl-08 @lespendy @onlydeadcells @fastfan

@stevie75 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @forbidden-forest-witch @ange-thoughts

@moral-terpitude @elenavampire21 @thenattitude @winchestergirl22

@zablife @elk96 @blondie-22 @imichelle-l-rigby @allie131313 @already-broken144

@peakyscillian @babaohhhriley @shaddixlife @sloanexx @sydneyyyya @lau219

@adaydreamaway08 @pono-pura-vida @thomashelbyswife @darleneslane @lauren-raines-x

@everythingelseisextra @kmc1989 @red-riding-wood @lovemissyhoneybee @theendlessvoidofdarkest

@wannabeperfectionists-blog (can’t tag) @yeppaweshallsee (can’t tag) @skydisneylover (can’t tag) @holacia3 @galactict3a @mysticalbouquetwolf-posts @ietss @abaker74

@natalie--rushman @elliaze @justrainandcoffee @teawonderfultea-blog1

#that’s what Cill said #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby x fem!reader #tommy shelby x y/n #thomas shelby fluff #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby x imagine #thomas shelby x y/n #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfic

65 notes · View notes

shaunashipman · 25 days

Note

I’ve been reading so many BuckTommy bones since that photo of Lou came out and I’m sorry, but does it really seems reasonable to people to have Tommy in the episode where Buck’s parental figure is injured to… break up with him? Like, I get that a lot of people don’t like Tommy, but that would be a little bit too much of an asshole move

they don't care that it's an asshole move because they think tommy is evil.

more importantly, it would just be bad storytelling.

last we saw them they were happy, just had a Big Damn Kiss and buck came out. we're not gonna have much time to devote to them in the last 2 eps, what with edkimisol, henren's adoption, and everything happening with bobby. there's approximately 85 minutes of show left, and some of those will involve calls. where is the time for buck and tommy to have problems that will lead them to break up? we had two whole episodes where a main arc was developing their relationship, had basically a big relationship announcement in the next episode, don't see them for 2 eps, then they break up in a tertiary quaternary storyline in the last 2?

these ppl think that the writers have crafted this sprawling 6 season slowburn masterpiece, but at the same time think they'd write such a shitty rushed ending to an important relationship? and you can dislike tommy and bucktommy all you want, you can't deny it's an important relationship for buck.

this is why i can't take them seriously; they think their opinion of a ship has some sort of effect on the significance of of the ship. they don't like it, so it can end unceremoniously in a short scene with no build up and it'll be fine. they've gotten so stuck on hints and misdirects and costumes that they've forgotten (if they ever knew) basic tenets of storytelling

#cleo gets mail #anonymous #911 #911 critical #bucktommy #anti buddie

69 notes · View notes

starship-buccaneer · 2 months

Text

Okay, this might be a stretch, but hear me out: I think all of the future episode titles for this season of 9-1-1 (that we know so far) can be linked to love songs.

"Buck, Bothered and Bewildered" is obviously a reference to Bewitched, Bothered, and Bewildered famously sung by Ella Fitzgerald. It's a song about being surprised by love, lamenting love but accepting it, and eventually falling out of love. All very interesting, but the obvious point is that this episode was about Buck discovering his feelings - romantic feelings - for someone he wasn't expecting (aka a man).

But I don't think it ends there.

"You Don't Know Me", the title of episode 5, is likely a reference to the alien limb situation (or whatever it's called) that the guy in the preview has going on. But it could also be a reference to the Ray Charles song "You Don't Know Me" which is a song about someone desperately pining for their friend while the friend remains oblivious (and is implied to be with someone else). Now, if I put my clown makeup on, obviously I'm seeing Buddie in neon lights. But either way, I think you can reasonably argue this episode will be focused (at least partially) on Buck's love life and very likely the intersection of Buck's budding gay romance and his friendship with Eddie (as was implied by the preview trailer). Now, whether or not this will eventually lead to Buddie (possibly in season 8) is anyone's guess, but a guy can dream right?

But wait! There's more!

According to the Wikia, "There Goes the Groom" is the title of episode 6, and here is where we really get into conspiracy theory time.

So, there's a Nancy Sinatra song called "There Goes the Bride", and it is yet another old song about someone pining for someone else who is already in a relationship.

There goes the bride

Waste away and long of love

Walking down the aisle

Where I′d like to go

Here goes the groom

Everything that I live for

I love you so

She couldn't love him more

Somehow I knew I′d lose you

And when you left, how I cried

I went away to try to forget him

That's when he met the bride

There goes my love

Only I know what it means

There goes the bride

Down with all my dreams

Somehow I knew I'd lose him

And when he left, oh, how I cried

I went away to try to forget him

That′s when he met the bride

There goes my love

Only I know what it means

There goes the bride

Down with all my dreams

It's a tragic love song, and has overt themes of matrimony. Now, I don't think Eddie is going to be getting married to Marisol anytime soon, but I do think there may be some indication that Eddie is serious about her and that could cause some interesting feelings for Buck (possibly even the beginnings of a realization or hint that Buck does not have entirely platonic feelings for Eddie). The song has this ongoing narrative about loving, losing, trying to move on, then seeing your love find someone else. Which could apply to Buck seeing Eddie with Marisol, moving on with Tommy, and realizing that he can't because he truly does love Eddie. But that's just a theory. (A gay-me theory.)

I do think it's likely that the big 911 call (case? mission? firefighter equivalent?) of the episode has something to do with a wedding/marriage, and that whatever dynamic is going on between the people involved ends up having some connection to Buck/Eddie, Buck/Tommy, and/or Eddie/Marisol's situation (the 911 writers love their thematic parallels afterall). And, with the melancholy tone of the song plus the theme of loss, it's also possible this episode involves some kind of separation, possibly a fight that causes distance between two of the characters (Buck and Eddie perhaps?), but this is all speculation.

Episode 7 is titled "Ghost of a Second Chance". Well, there are no songs titled "Ghost of a Second Chance" that I could find, but there are actually a lot of songs titled "Ghost of a Chance". "Buck, Bothered and Bewildered" proves the writers often change the names of songs a little to make the reference fit their character narrative better, so I'm not throwing my theory to the curb just yet.

At first, I thought the reference may have been to the Rush song "Ghost of a Chance" which is actually a love song. It's about two people finding each other and, despite the narrator/singer not believing in "forever or love as a mystical state", still believing their love could last.

But, in keeping with the older music theme, there's also a Frank Sinatra song called "Ghost of a Chance" or, more accurately, "(I Don't Stand) A Ghost of a Chance"

I need your love so badly I love you oh so madly But I don't stand a ghost of a chance with you I thought at last I found you But other loves surround you And I don't stand a ghost of a chance with you If you'd surrender Just for a tender Kiss or two You might discover That I'm the lover Meant for you And I'd be true

But what's the good of scheming I know I must be dreaming For I don't stand a ghost of a chance with you

What's the good of scheming I know I must be dreaming 'cause I don't stand A ghost of a chance With you

Wow! Yet another song about someone in love and pining for a person who's affections are preoccupied by someone else. How interesting.

Well, if my theory about the previous episode is correct, then it's possible that this episode is about reconciliation and pining. "Ghost of a Second Chance" implies being given the chance to try something again. And with the theme of the Frank Sintra song, pining might also be an ongoing motif. So, if the previous episode involved some type of fight and distancing between Eddie and Buck, then this episode might be about them making up despite Buck's (possible) ongoing inner turmoil (realizing he's in love with his best friend?).

I'm sure I'm practically honking my clown horn at this point, but maybe, just maybe these episode titles really are hinting at Buck's emotional state, and maybe his emotional state is occupied with unresolved feelings of jealousy and devotion directed towards his currently-not-single best friend Edmundo "Eddie" Diaz.

#buddie #evan buckley #buck bothered and bewildered #911 abc #911 fox #911 season 7 #eddie diaz #edmundo eddie diaz #tommy kinard #bisexual buck #bisexual evan buckley #evan buck buckley

84 notes · View notes

lavender-romancer · 1 year

Text

Loving girl

Tommy Shelby x reader

CW: suicide mentions, grief

You've always known you would be a better partner for Tommy, after Grace died you had to reassess your motivations for being close to Tommy because he needed a friend more than ever before

”*°•.˜”*°•. ˜”*°•. ˜”*°••°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜

When you were younger it was easier to deal with the unrequited feelings of a teenage crush. Everyone has those feelings when they're around 15, it's not unheard of for them to go away after a few years or even months. But this was incomparably different. You didn't know how to express your feelings in a coherent way to him, the way you had always shown affection towards him was support and material things like buying him cigarettes or baking him something. There was no way to vocalise your feelings because you were so awful with expressing yourself. Instead turning towards sexual and substance based distractions which would allow you to forget about him for a moment.

Tommy didn't care for labels unless there were children involved, he didn't have girlfriends only women he fucked. Grace became his wife because of Charlie and you didn't know if it would have been different if she wasn't pregnant. Tommy Shelby expressed fondness for Grace but nothing which you would call love, responsibility was more important to him.

You so wanted the story of the two of you to end happily, the teasing that the two of you got from the Shelby brothers was enough to make you hope there was something there but it was a story. A story that you liked to manufacture an ending for rather than feelings based in fact. Tommy saw you as his closest friend but since that wouldn't be too popular with his new wife you'd been seeing each other less and less over the years. You still saw the other Shelby's and Michael at the Garrison most evenings and at work but Tommy was scarcely around.

Everyday felt prettier when you saw Tommy, when he was in a room with you it made you feel instantly more comfortable. It had been this way since you were younger, racing to meet him after school and go on a walk together before having dinner at Pol's house. The memories of your youth where your minds just contained an emptiness of anxieties that you'd experience later in life. You'd never seen Tommy quite as anxious as when you saw him after Grace had died. It was the first time the room didn't feel prettier with him being there. you could appreciate the stoic dimness of the lamp on his desk and how the grand windows let in a beautiful amount of light but… just the bags under Thomas' eyes indicated how sleepless these nights had been.

"Got these for you and made you some stuff, don't worry if you don't eat it," you softly placed two packs of cigarettes and a tin of pastries on his desk.

"Thank you," he said gruffly with a nod, immediately looking at the packaging of the cigarettes "The posh ones eh? Spending all that money on me?" He showed the hints of a smile and you took it gratefully.

"I mean, clearly in a slum like this you could do with the glamor of taste," you said sarcastically and he scoffed.

"You always have the worst attempts at humor I've ever heard." Tommy sat back in his chair and rubbed his eyes.

"Oh shut up, now give me one of those and we can chat," you held your hand out and Tommy handed you a cigarette which you lit after you sat down on the chair in front of him.

"Chat, hmm? We haven't done that in a while have we." Tommy reminisced.

"I meant to apologise about that. I should've made more of an effort to see you." You pursed your lips uncomfortably but Tommy waved you off.

"Not at all, she wouldn't have liked you being here anyways. It was a good decision, jealousy can fester from any corner of a friendship." Tommy lit his own cigarette.

"How has today been?" You asked.

"Just as shit as the others. My never ending guilt and the wish I had died instead is still such a strong feeling," he paused "Do you think it will ever go away?"

"That's a lot to ask of your unconscious thoughts, Thomas. They're not usually that helpful in normal situations." You smiled at him and he nodded.

"I thought so, Charlie will now grow up without a mother and that's one thing I can't fix with all the money in the world. It's so frustrating." He ran a hand through his hair and sighed.

"How is Charlie?" You changed the subject because you feared that line of conversation would go nowhere.

"You're doing that thing you do again," Tommy looked like he almost smiled.

"What thing?" You narrowed your eyes at him.

"The way you change the subject when I start getting emotional so I don't actually get there," he commented and you shrugged.

"It's what friends do isn't it." You took a deep breath in and out.

"You're too considerate for your own good, Y/n." Tommy tapped the ash off his cig and looked into your eyes.

"Only to you," you said quietly.

"I know, I appreciate it. A lot," he paused "I always wondered what it would be like to have that amount of consideration all the time."

"What do you mean?" Your palms began to sweat.

"Just when I'm imagining a world like that, you know? With more people like you," Tommy paused and smiled sadly at you. "It would be infinitely better than what we suffer with now."

"Tommy… you've drank too much today," you said cautiously looking at the half empty whisky bottle on his desk.

"And yet, I'm thinking clearer." He suddenly stood up and walked over to the window.

"What are you thinking about?" You asked.

"How I want to burn it all," he said in a stoic voice and you could have shivered at how serious it sounded.

"Well I don't think arson would be the best move for you next." You smiled to yourself and he let out a small closed mouth smile before leaning the side of his head against the window.

"It's something Michael said when I met him again, that if he saw the pretty white brick wishing well in his old village again he would blow it up just to see the bricks everywhere. I want to do the same thing to this fucking house half the time," Tommy closed his eyes.

"But this is now Charlie's home, you have to think about consistency with his life from now on." You reasoned and Tommy nodded slowly.

"He's the only reason I haven't done it. The only reason I won't." He walked back to his desk and sat down before pouring another whisky as well as one for you.

"Thank you. So, what's next?" You asked, sitting back on the sofa nursing your glass.

"Business, business, business I think. It's the only way I know to distract myself from the enormity of this fucking house and all the fucking loss that's occurred throughout it." Tommy sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Why don't you tell me about it? The loss I mean." You proposed and Tommy sounded like he scoffed at the idea.

"Turning into my personal shrink now are you, eh?" He asked.

"I'm being a friend." You said simply and he nodded.

"You're right, but I'm not the man for those kinds of conversations. I don't know how to verbalise any of it," he took a drink. "I do sometimes wish we could go back to being 14, lying in wildflowers without any issues we couldn't solve with a bit of practical thinking. Everthing is so fucking hard now, Y/n and I don't think I can cope with it for much longer."

"You don't mean that, we were just innocents but, we all have to grow up at some point and you decided your life path when you got married and had children within the marriage. You can't back out now to go back to a simpler time or something," You placed the glass down and walked over to the desk.

"Why do you fit so well together?" He asked.

"What do you mean?"

"You're so reasonable and caring and you want to help me even though I've been a terrible friend. You like your job and your house and your social life, everything fits together so well. Whereas I always feel like I'm on the verge of the end everyday." Tommy looked up at you and you shook your head.

"You know I'm even better at lying than you are. That's how I do it, fake confidence, fake togetherness. Whatever it takes to get me through the day because eventually it feels normal to me." You reached over and touched Tommy's hand.

"I used to crave a normal routine but then after the war I couldn't deal with the plague of silence that comes with it. Everytime I would have normality it would be colliding with some kind of crisis I created to make my own life more interesting." Tommy rubbed his temple with his other hand and you frowned.

"And what does wallowing in it do for you?" You asked.

"I know, it's fucking deluded of me. But I don't know how else to get through. How do you deal with grief?" He asked.

"Talking about it for a start, I don't know…screaming sometimes works. When my mum died I punched a wall." You laughed and Tommy smiled to himself.

"I can see myself doing the second thing at least, talking about it makes me want to commit. It's just…so fucking sad because Charlie's mum's died when it should've been me. It was a bullet meant for me." Tommy sighed and you walked around his desk to stand in front of him.

"Come here," you beckoned him to stand in front of you and he slowly got up and straightened his waistcoat.

You pulled him into a deeply needed embrace, Tommy hadn't received any type of comfort that had actually worked until now. He cried. He cried for the mother of his child, he cried for the fact that he didn't love her. But most of all he cried for himself, his own shame at being alive.

Peaky Blinders Taglist:

@queenofkings1212 @severewobblerlightdragon @cl5369 @fairypitou @stressedandbandobessed7771 @shadow-of-wonder @hipsternoionlylikeunicorns @curled-hair-red-lips @lucystivinsky1315 @lovemisshoneybee

#peaky blinders #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby imagines #tommy shelby angst #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby fic #tommy shelby #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders tommy shelby #peaky blinder imagine #peaky fucking blinders #peaky blinder headcanon #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders fiction #peaky blinders imagines #peaky blinders fic

440 notes · View notes

leandra-winchester · 12 hours

Note

I'm wondering how there are people who think killing off Tommy would lead to Buddie. Like for one outside of Shannon the show hasn't killed off any other love interest to write them out of the show and two the show would get so much negative press for it. Like I do not take people seriously when the bring up Tommy dying or Buck cheating as a way to facilitate Buddie canon because it would not endear most of the audience to them as a ship (not to mention Oliver Stark specifically said he doesn't want to go down the queer trauma route here so like I don't get why some people cite these as possibilities)

Yeah, I don't even know man. Fanfic brainrot or something (not that there's anything wrong with fanfic, obviously, but when you consume so much of it and it being very specific to your very personal liking, and then can't separate the expectations you have for fic from those you have for the show).

And I guess in a way I maybe fell for it too, with my past expectations for Buddie canon, because, in hindsight, I'm not sure Buddie canon - especially now after so much time has passed - would have feasibly happened. Not just because of studio politics or limitations on how many canon queer characters you can have among the main cast, but simply because you cannot believably pull off a mutual pining/slowburn romance in an ensemble show.

Buddie would only have worked if Eddie had taken some time to unravel all that repression, bit by bit, and we would have to see it, and that would have taken up too much room and time in a show that has a pretty big main cast.

It might have worked at the end of s5 when he went to therapy and all that, planting some seeds there and then fully following up on it in s6, but now? AFTER the whole Marisol and Shannon/Kim stuff? It would take A LOT to sell it not just to the general audience but, frankly, to people like me as well.

So I dunno, but I'm pretty convinced it's never going to happen. Both Oliver and Ryan have said/hinted that they wouldn't want it to happen purely as fan service; it would have to really make sense and be true to the characters and their journeys, and I agree.

But the BoBs don't listen; they take fragments of sentences and interpret them to fit their own agenda.

And then some of the most unhinged ones of them go and think killing off a love interest is one way to get there. And a lot of those comments or tags didn't read like purely 'jokes' either; there was sheer vitriol and hatred behind them. Which has very little to do with genuine or in any way valid outrage at the 'daddy kink' joke, but everything to do with someone getting in their way of their ship, and this time being an actual threat.

With female love interests, you could always write that off as the show being cowardly about it and not daring to make any of them queer. But now we have that queer representation, Buck is officially bi, and has a boyfriend with whom things are getting really serious, really fast.

And I get being sad and disappointed about Buddie not happening, but the amount of toxicity that has been directed at a) other fans b) the fictional characters and c) the actors/writers involved is ridiculous. This is a fucking TV show, after all. It's not real life, it's not politics or activism. It's just fiction (that gives us an unusual amount of queer rep for a mainstream network TV show!). If it doesn't spark joy, take a step back, stop watching, read and write fic, but don't be a toxic asshole about it.

#bucktommy #tevan #evan buckley #tommy kinard #911 discourse #911

42 notes · View notes

slycopersicum-in-disguise · 12 days

Text

Mostly buddie and bucktommy thoughts, but some general fandom feels too

I am glad Buck is canonically bi.

I am very sad Eddie is not canonically gay.

I want Buck and Eddie to get together.

While things in TV can turn on a dime, it looks clear from the most recent episodes that they don't intend to have buddie be a canon relationship.

At the start of the season I was very enthusiastic about the character of Tommy being around long-term.

I am not feeling any chemistry between Buck and Tommy when they are in scenes together. This isn't just because of my buddie shipping goggles - as much as I disliked Buck and Taylor together, they did spark off each other. I am just not feeling it from the other BT.

I am really disappointed by the structure of the few scenes with Buck and Tommy that we did have. If Tommy had turned up in a slightly silly costume to the party and still had had to leave I would be finding it hard not to love him. If they had just switched the dinner date scene around and started with the daddy kink flirting and then had Tommy go beyond that to ask if Buck was actually OK after Bobby's coma, I would be thinking that with enough time we might see as much of a connection between them as we see between Buck and Eddie.

Depressingly, I don't think the writing teams are trying to drop us subtle hints that Buck/Tommy are inherently doomed, I think they are just fucking up. Which doesn't bode well for future scenes between Buck and Tommy being something I will enjoy.

While I want Buck and Eddie to get together and didn't think their previous LIs would have been good life partners for them, in the fandom there was a lot of deliberate misreading of scenes involving the women and a worrying level of hate directed towards the actresses. Yes, there were some justified callouts about the actions of some of the actresses. We should never, ever accept bigotry. But we all know we have seen actual full-on misogyny from many fans too.

I read 911 fandom posts on many platforms and I have seen this behaviour on Tumblr, Twitter, Reddit, Facebook, Discord, you name it. While we would love to think the people on whatever platform we don't use are the horrible ones, I see it across the board.

That deliberate misreading of scenes and cruelty towards real people is now spreading to both Eddie and Tommy, and their respective actors. Part of me wants to flippantly say "Diversity Win!" but racism and homophobia are wriggling their way into 911 fandom posts and we need to do better.

I am feeling gloomy about S8. I don't think a summer break is going to fix any of the issues I have with the show. If you love how things are going then I am happy for you! I'll probably still boost the gorgeous fanart and insightful metas that I often see. But this is a reminder to others, and to myself, that if a show is making us sad, we can just go watch something else. It's OK. We're OK.

#911 on abc #911 abc #911 on fox #911 fox #evan 'buck' buckley #eddie diaz #buddie #buck x eddie #eddie x buck #tommy kinard #bucktommy #911 s7 spoilers #911 spoilers #911 7x10 #911 season 7 #911 negativity #anti bucktommy

23 notes · View notes

mazzystar24 · 1 month

Note

hi again im the anon with the long e*y ask from yesterday that you just answered so i wanted to follow up and say that im sorry for dropping that long ass rant just for the episode to completely flip the script lmao

i guess i need to stop freaking out before episodes but sometimes this fandom makes it hard not to w all the panicking

anyway i can see the vision for buddie in the future with this storyline… i have… thoughts on it… but i can see where they might take this i just hope they take it that way and don’t use it as a way to reiterate that eddie is straight because……. come on. if buck was heavily hinted as bi over the years, you can’t ignore eddie’s queerness being hinted at to and to only go for one over the other (after literally confirming it was originally supposed to be eddie with the queer arc this season) it would make no sense for them to not take this storyline there since they obviously see eddie’s queerness.

anyway we must stay strong and keep fighting 🫡🫡🫡 we got oliver in the trenches with us so there is still a lot of hope yet

Hiii again!

Don’t worry about it babes I am also a fellow catastrophising girlie but I think when it comes to fandom I think I’m just too delusional to panic🤭🤭

Yess totally like the fact that they acknowledged after buck was confirmed as bi that there have been many moments that hinted that and that a lot of them involved Eddie, and then that Eddie could’ve been given a queer storyline this season and it would’ve been him and Tommy instead, like all that makes me go to Tim like:

Yes I went through the effort of making this in instagram just for the purpose of this ask🫡

Fr we are in the trenches with Oliver and there is hope😌

#911 #buddie #evan buckley #911 abc #eddie diaz #911 fox #evan buck buckley #911onfox #buckley diaz family #asks open #send asks #send me asks #answered asks #asks

27 notes · View notes

crappymixtape · 1 year

Text

come back to me • part three

PART ONE HERE • PART TWO HERE // after steve gets his heart broken by nancy, tommy dares him to try something different as a rebound, someone who isn’t his type at all, and at first he’s doing it to prove a point, but when the upside down gets involved he realizes just how he really feels • 18+ | ( 4.1k – violence / upside down, lots of angst, some fluff, enemies to lovers-ish, steve x reader, king!steve x reader ) REQUEST @carinacassiopeiae → king!steve, reformed!king steve x reader

C O M E B A C K T O M E • P T. 3 🎶 final girl - eva rose

“Where is it? Henderson, where is it??”

Steve’s chest was heaving, stance wide and ready to take another swing as he looked frantically around the living room you’d just stepped into. The curly-haired boy you’d remembered was cowering behind him, hands on the backs of Steve’s shoulders and looking just as panicked.

“Shit! Shit, shit shit,” lisped swears fell from the younger boy’s mouth, one after the other as he squeezed the talk button on his walkie, “CODE RED, I REPEAT, CODE RED! Mike! Lucas?? Will! God dammit, anyone??”

The Christmas lights had stopped flickering, but there was gaping a hole in the ceiling and the carpet was ripped and covered in blood and slime. Whose blood, you didn’t know, but you’d yanked the door open hard enough it hit the wall behind you and pulled the attention of both boys.

“Wha–why aren’t you in the car??” the expression on Steve’s face was a mixture of anger and desperation because he knew what you’d just walked into, but he didn’t know if he could protect you from it. Hell he could barely protect himself from it and the sudden realization of you getting hurt all because of him was enough to make him want to throw up.

“Oh, like I’m gonna just sit there and–” but then your eyes settled on him.

A fresh cut across his cheek, red and angry. The knee on his jeans ripped out, exposing a nasty gash that was staining the denim a deep, dark crimson.

The blood on the carpet was his.

“Jesus, Steve. Are you oka–” you took another step into the room, but Steve threw a hand up, cutting you off.

“No! Stop!”

The Christmas lights started to flicker again and Steve’s head whipped back around to look up at the erratic, blinking bulbs.

“Shit!” the curly-haired boy hissed again and your frustration reached a peak.

“Will someone please tell me what’s going on??”

But then the lights buzzed. Squealing and burning bright florescent with a surge of electricity before shattering with a loud pop and showering you all in tiny shards of glass. All sound was sucked out of the room, your frantic breathing the only thing breaking the silence.

Your ears were straining in the dark for any kind of hint about what was going on and for a second you thought it was just the storm outside until you heard it. A low, rumbling growl from the hallway. One that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand straight up and it was all you needed to know. Whatever it was? It was bad.

“Fuck, get behind me!” Steve yelled and this time you listened.

Pressed in close to the curly-haired boy you chanced a look over Steve’s shoulder.

Eerie, dim light fell in through the windows and gaps between the curtains. Casting deep shadows over the kitchen table, the couch, the frame of the hallway, but it was just enough for you to make out a figure.

Low to the ground. Thick and sinewy. All muscle. Glistening and wet and and carrying with it the smell of something rotting. Decay.

Death.

You felt your breath quicken, warming over the fabric of Steve’s shirt as you pressed yourself even closer, the muscles across his back pulling tight as he squeezed the bat in his hands. There was a moment of pause, a second where you wanted to believe what your mind was telling you, it’s just a dog, but deep down you knew it wasn’t.

Your voice was barely a whisper, hushed as it left your lips. “What the hell is that–” but then the thing howled, a horrible sound that sucked the air from your lungs as it snarled, feeding off your fear.

You could make it out better as it stepped into a sliver of light and what you saw made you feel sick. Nauseous. Claws stained red with blood, a head that split five ways, covered in razor sharp teeth spun messy and lethal around its gaping mouth and god you wished you’d listened to Steve. Wished you’d stayed in the car. Wished you’d kept walking home in the rain and the wind, but you didn’t and–

Another screech came from the monster and it leapt into motion, cutting the distance between you in a second and knocking all three of you to the ground as Steve swung and missed. It was a tangle of limbs, all of you scrambling to try and get back to your feet, to run away, but you couldn’t get any traction as your shoes slipped in slime.

“Dustin, the fucking gas! Where’s the gas??”

“Jesus Christ, I dunno! Shit, shit shit shit!”

Your hands finally grabbed hold of the edge of the couch, trying to pull yourself up as Steve and Dustin clambered away, but a scream broke your concentration and it took a second to realize where it was coming from.

You.

Razor sharp teeth tore and dug into your leg, white hot searing pain gripping you like a vice as you felt it pulling you. Dragging you and shaking you from side to side like a rag doll until your hands lost their grip on the couch and you fell to the floor on your back.

Hands scrambling for something, anything, you grabbed hold of an ashtray on the coffee table and smashed it into the side of the monster’s head, but it barely flinched. Instead sinking its teeth deeper into your skin. Blood, your blood, wet and red staining your washed jeans as the monster bit down even harder. You let loose another cry, this one more desperate, pained, afraid.

“Steve! Fuck, oh god oh fuck. Steve!”

You were crying openly now, sobs falling from you in gasps and it only seemed to egg the monster on. Letting your leg drop it growled again, a low rumble that pulled another whimper from you. It crawled up your body and snarled down at you, saw-toothed head shaking, petals splayed and hungry. Saliva dripping from it’s mouth onto your cheeks, your neck, the floor and it hit you.

You were gonna die.

You‘d never felt that way before, but you knew it. Torn to shreds by some inter-dimensional monster from hell because of Steve fucking Harrington and Homecoming and stupid boys and finally your sister would get to wear your clothes without a fight, but then you heard him.

“Hey! Asshole!”

Steve’s voice was shaking. He thought you’d gotten up with him, thought you’d scrambled away on Dustin’s heels, but the sound of you crying out had stopped him in his tracks. Fear gripped him in that moment. Held him tight and squeezed with the threat of losing you. Losing this person he’d found something with. Someone he cared about. Someone else to be snatched away from him without a second thought and when he saw the way you were looking at him, the way you needed him, there was only one thing he could do.

Sucking in a breath and holding it heavy in his lungs like plunging into cold water, Steve braced himself. Lips twisted, fixed and mean, he didn’t hesitate. Not for one second.

A blunt thwack! split the air as the nail-filled bat held tight in Steve's fists cut through the air, connecting with the head of the monster towering over you and crushing it down into the ground with another horrible shriek.

“You want some more, huh?? C’mon. C’mon, asshole!” the boy huffed with effort as he gave a muscled pull, dislodging the bat and pulling an awful howl from the creature that tore the air in two.

Steve stood over it still gripping the bat, chest heaving and sweat beading along his forehead. Cast both in dark shadows and slivers of light from the windows and for a split second he scared you, but not because of all this. Not the monster, not the bat, not the way he swung for the fences. Because of you.

The flicker in your chest. The embers that had crackled with warmth, glowing to life the first time he sat in your kitchen. Burning brighter and brighter every time his fingers brushed yours. Every time he gave you that stupid lopsided smile. Grinned at you over the pages of your Thrasher magazine. Even in the way he made you angry.

Angrier than you’d ever felt. Made you want to drive your fists into his chest. Tell him to wake up. Tell him you actually liked him. Liked him, liked him and you hoped, no prayed, you were gonna get the chance to say it.

The monster tried to get up and take another lunge at Steve, but he was too quick. Bat in hand and already swinging it through the air, it hit with another sick crunch and pulled a shriek from its gaping mouth as it fell to the floor in a writhing heap.

“Dustin, you two get outta here!” Steve ordered. He’d bought himself a few seconds and tried to loop his arms under you as gently as he could, but you let out another cry in pain. “Shit, I’m sorry,” and he meant it, brows knitted together as he looked at you. So fucking sorry. Tears welling up along the line of his lashes.

“Wait, the gas!” Dustin traded Steve a red, sloshing can for your arm around his shoulder as he helped you stand and when he pulled you to the door another angry screech came from the monster. You were getting away.

Tears still streaming down your cheeks, Dustin did his best to get you out onto the porch before you stopped him. “W-wait,” you held him back, “Steve. We can’t–what if doesn’t make it–”

“Oh, he’ll make it,” Dustin reassured you without a shred of doubt and turned slightly so you could look back through the door.

A calculated kick to the head from Steve’s dirty Blazer sent the monster back to the ground and he didn’t wait to start pouring gas. On the floor around the creature, soaking the carpet, spilling it over its body still splayed out and struggling to stand. Fear pulled at Steve’s features, but they were edged in adrenaline and a wicked survivor’s instinct. A determination and conviction you hadn’t seen before and god. He was brave.

“Dammit, Henderson. Get outta here!” Steve yelled at Dustin again, waving a hand toward the car, the other digging in his pocket for a lighter. Flicking it open with a crack! Steve watched for just a second as the monster growled low and wounded before tossing the flame into the gas.

It lit up like the bonfires down at the quarry, hot and hungry and fueled by the liquid pooled deep on the floor, licking and crackling against the monster’s skin as it screeched and howled in pain. Steve shielded his face with a crooked arm, burying his nose and mouth into his elbow, watching as the lump on the floor slowly stopped moving.

“Did you do it? Is it dead??” Dustin yelled, “Extinguisher’s on the couch!”

Steve grabbed the can and pulled the pin, making the air thick with billows of smoke and retardant and when it finally dispersed, fire put out, the only thing left on the floor was the dark, charred outline of the monster.

“What the–” Dustin shook his head in disbelief, “–where the hell is it??”

“Shit,” Steve hissed, throwing the extinguisher onto the floor, “The same shit happened at Jonathan’s. Fuck.”

You watched as Steve roughed his hands over his face, exhausted and frustrated and you thought for a minute you’d like to thank him for saving your life, but the world started to swim. Dizzy and hazy like looking up through the water from the bottom of the pool in summer and you felt yourself start to slip against Dustin’s hold.

“Hey–shit, hey stay with me!” the younger boy tightened his arm around your waist and the sound of panic in his voice pulled Steve’s attention.

“Whoa! Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Steve slipped in the mess of blood and slime on the floor as he scrambled to get to you, getting an arm under your other shoulder and helping Dustin to steady you.

“We gotta go to the hospital,” Dustin gave Steve a look. A first-aid-kit-can’t-fix-this-shit type of look and he understood.

“Okay. Okay, yeah. Here, unlock it for me,” he slipped Dustin his keys so that he could loop both arms under the crooks of your knees, lifting and cradling you against his chest.

“You know. You were pretty okay in there, Harrington. Except for that first swing,” you teased, voice raspy as you clung to consciousness. Adrenaline wearing off. Shock setting in. So much blood.

Steve shook his head, his attempt at a laugh choked off with the sob he was holding in his chest. “Yeah, shit. Told you I was bad in a fight,” he tried to joke back, but his heart wasn’t in it and his grip on you tightened as he stepped you both off the porch into the rain.

“Can make it up to me tomorrow, hm? Two scoops,” your voice was tight now too, cracking with the tears in Steve’s eyes and you bit your lips in, trying not to cry.

“Whatever you want, princess,” and for once the nickname didn’t make you angry. Instead you felt your heart swelling. Full of whatever tangle of feelings you’d wrapped around Steve. Feelings that clung to you now as he held you in his arms, rain falling heavy on you both, the blood on your jeans thinning and washing away with the rain and for a minute it didn’t look so bad, but you knew it was.

“Steve?” your voice was quiet now, barely above a whisper and he held you even tighter against his chest.

“Yeah, princess?”

“I don’t feel so good.”

“I know. Gonna get you some help, okay? Real soon, goin’ right now,” his tears were falling freely now, cutting paths down the slopes of his cheeks, running along the line of his jaw, mingling with the rain and dripping off the edge of his nose.

“Okay. Soon. My leg…” your head lolled back lazy over Steve’s arm and he knew he was running out of time.

“I know–Henderson! We gotta fuckin’ go!” and as Steve pulled you into the backseat with him he silently gave Dustin the green light. Made him the only other one out of the group trustworthy enough to drive aside from Max and, damn. He did pretty good for a little shithead.

Steve and Dustin were hit with a barrage of questions at the admissions desk in the ER and they answered it away with the same things they always did.

Aggressive dog off a leash. Run in with a wild animal. Bad fall off a bike.

And they always got looks, suspicious, disbelieving, but no one pushed for more. Didn’t turn them away and it was a good thing because had you waited any longer you might not have made it.

You’d lost a lot of blood. A lot of blood and Robin and Eddie and Steve and Dustin all donated downstairs while they cleaned and patched you up. Leg put back together with stitches and staples and wrapped tight in a massive bandage and Steve never left your side. Not for one second after he donated blood. Slept at your bedside and waited with your sister every time the doctor came around with an update.

Had you broken a bone or worse you might’ve had to stay longer, but twenty-four hours and you could go home. But go home and rest. Stay off your leg for a week and then crutches if you needed and when they discharged you and gave a bag of hospital goodies – more wraps and pain killers and ice packs – Steve was waiting for at pick up leaning against the hood of his BMW.

A grin pulled up at the corners of your lips, the nurse pushing your wheelchair glancing between the two of you with a small smile.

“Need a ride?”

“Oh, and I suppose you’re offering?”

“Well, yeah. Kickoff’s in less than an hour,” Steve smirked, twirling his keys around his ring finger as he opened the passenger door. “But–” he drew out the vowel, playful, coy, watching as the nurse stopped and put the breaks on your chair.

“But?” you quirked a brow at him, skeptical, but curious and his smirk softened.

“But, turns out I don’t give a shit about football,” he said matter-of-factly, taking your hands in his.

Your heart fluttered in your chest, a hummingbird caught in a cage and you narrowed your eyes at him, grin lingering on your lips. “Really. You don’t,” a statement not a question and he nodded his head, squeezing your hands as he slowly pulled you up from your wheelchair.

“Yep. Not one shit,” he was trying to tease again, softer this time as he tangled your fingers together, eyes dropping down to meet yours all warm honey and caramel. “So, change of plans,” a smirk flickered at the corner of his lips again. “Dirty Dancing, we can get pizza delivered and I’ve got about five different kinds of ice cream in the trunk, which–shit–probably melting,” he grimaced, but you snorted at the look on his face and it pulled a laugh from him.

“Five? Jesus, Harrington.”

“What? I don’t know what kind of ice cream you like, better to cover my bases.”

You shook your head and it wasn’t in jest, but bewilderment.

Even after everything he’d done and everything you’d said he was still standing here. Still following through on his promise because he wanted to. Not because of Tommy, not because of some stupid bet, but because you made him laugh. Made his legs kick off the sides of your bed late at night. Let him sit and listen to you play your guitar. Because you could care less about popularity and Homecoming and man. He liked you. He really, really liked you.

“Smart move, Harrington,” you teased as the nurse slowly backed the wheelchair away.

“Alright, you two,” she chided, giving Steve a look, “Rest. I’m not gonna say no to ice cream, but you be good. And don’t forget to change that dressing.”

Pulling a hand from yours, Steve slapped it over his heart and gave the nurse the most honest-to-god look. “Promise,” he swore and she chuckled.

“Alright then, have a good night,” and then she winked at you and the flush that crept up your cheeks made you wish the ground would open up and swallow you whole.

Luckily Steve took no notice of it, too busy fussing over you as he helped you into the passenger seat. Insisted on getting your buckle for you, keeping the music down and driving like an old man through town back to your house.

You hit nearly every red light on the way, which is saying something since there were only about a handful, and when you rolled to a stop at the last one you heard a voice through the open window of his car. Someone yelling and it made you both look.

“Oh shit it is you, Harrington! And with the freak, no way!”

Your stomach dropped.

Tommy fucking Hagan and he was running up on Steve’s side of the car to lean his arms on the door, sharklike grin on his lips.

You opened your mouth to tell him off, but Steve beat you to it.

“Yeah. Hey, Tommy. I meant to tell you this earlier, but guess I forgot.”

“What?” Tommy asked stupidly as Carol waited impatiently back on the sidewalk, arms folded across her chest.

“Go fuck yourself,” and Steve hit the gas as the light turned green, pulling the car out from under Tommy and you turned to watch with absolute glee as he stumbled and ate shit on the road. He flipped two middle fingers in the rearview at you both, but you were laughing too hard to return the favor.

When you arrived back home your parents were waiting at the door.

“We were worried sick!”

“I came home as soon as I heard, sweetheart!”

Words of concern falling from their lips as Steve helped you in through the door, thanking him profusely for his help and for taking care of you. They insisted he stay for dinner and when you told them you already had plans in the form of pizza and ice cream they left you alone. They might’ve been absent, but they weren’t stupid enough to not take a hint.

Steve walked you up the steps to your room slowly, carefully, asking you if you were okay every couple of minutes. Got you settled on your bed, leg elevated with a pillow, two more behind your back as he helped you scoot back to the headboard. Flipped on the small TV at the foot of your bed and gave you the remote before heading back down to get everything else.

And as soon as the sound of him hurrying down the steps faded away, you were left alone for a minute for the first time since everything had happened and your chest squeezed tight.

Monsters were real. And you would’ve been eaten alive if it weren’t for Steve Harrington. Fucking King Steve. Asshole jock that ran Hawkins High that wasn’t actually an asshole at all. And he’d saved your life. Waited by your side at the hospital. Bought you five different kinds of ice cream and drove you home. Liked reading your Thrasher magazines and your guitar and the little snort you made when you laughed and–

“Hey, hey. What’s wrong? Is it your leg?” you hadn’t heard Steve come back into your room, but your mattress dipped at the side as he hurried to sit next to you, worry pulling his lips down into a frown.

“What?” you asked, suddenly aware of the fact that you’d been crying and quickly wiping a hand over your cheeks.

“What d’you mean ‘what’? Are you okay?” he asked again, reaching a thumb up to brush away the tears you’d missed.

And somehow between the crying you laughed and it made Steve go from worried, to confused and worried, and the look he gave you then made you laugh again.

“And...now we’re laughing?” he asked, wanting to smile, but just so utterly lost.

“Sorry, it’s just–” you pulled in a breath to steady yourself and let it out. A release of, well, everything. “Its just…this is so fucking weird. Monsters and lighting Dustin’s carpet on fire and matching scars. Whenever this shit heals,” you waved a hand at both your legs, “And you.”

Steve’s confusion shifted then, softened and melted with your words and he swallowed thick, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, the look in his eyes pushing you to keep going.

“I was really mad at you,” you said first and the tiny flicker of hope in his eyes dimmed a bit, but you grabbed his hand, “But I know things aren’t black and white. M’not an idiot.” That got a little laugh out of him and you smiled, “And Steve…”

“Yeah?” his heart was hammering against his ribcage, lips parted, anticipating, anxious. Waiting.

“I thought I was gonna die 24 hours ago.”

He opened his mouth to reply, but you pressed your fingers to his lips.

“But I didn’t and now…” you let your hand fall away from his face and pressed it into his thigh. Leaned in close against the soft fabric of his sweater. Close enough to catch the leftover mint of his gum as it tangled with the heady scent of his cologne. Close enough to feel his breath warm over your cheek, “I just want you to kiss me.”

And softly, so gentle, but so firm, he slipped the wide expanse of his hand behind your head. Pulled you into him. Lips catching yours sweet and languid and warm and when your eyes slid shut you swore Steve showed you the universe. Glittering stars. Hundreds of intricately drawn constellations. Swirling as they spun through the sky and when you came back down you wished he’d never stop.

A small huff of a laugh fell from his lips as he stayed pressed in close, looking down at you through the long sweep of his lashes, eyes liquid amber and soft brown sugar, "Uhm, can I do that I again?”

“Oh my god, please,” you grinned and he didn’t hesitate to pull you back in, knowing maybe you wouldn’t get to the movie and maybe the ice cream was going to melt on the counter in the kitchen, but he didn’t care.

It was never about the ice cream.

It was always about

you.

crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist

#stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington stranger things #steve stranger things #steve x you #steve fanfic #steve x reader #steve x fem #steve harrington fic #makeacrappymixtape #requests #asks

353 notes · View notes

rosegoldenatlas · 4 months

Text

What its like being a tntduo fan

Imagine reading a tntduo fic right? Very simple. Then the author mentions wine. Suddenly, Everyone is going batshit crazy because OMG WINE STREAM.

Or imagine how good the enemies to lovers slowburns are. With both of them hating each other with a burning passion and there's a lot of manipulation going on until one o them starts to feel guilty for using underhanded tactics to get at each other.

(Skip next paragraph if uncomfortable w/ smut n shit)

Oh and if its a spicy fic even better because then we get the slow transition from rough hatesex to wow I feel kinda bad kicking you out after all that maybe aftercare should be a thing until suddenly its soft and its not described with physical feelings by instead they're slowing don't and everything is soft because it isn't about physical she anymore but instead about being close and then there's soft fucking cuddles or something similar. I'm rambling now wow.

But this in just a tntduo thing by I feel like the ideal tntduo dynamic for slowburn is always along the lines of- enemies, enemies with benifits, this weird I don't hate you exactly but we're not friends bit, friends but the trust isn't fully there, trust building moment, friends?, fuck a small misunderstanding turned fight, friends but actually this time(also with benefits), wait actually you're on of some he first people who accepts every fucked up piece of me and not just the fake me, wait actually what if I dropped sixty billion hints that I like you but you don't get it, oh fuck it we ball, lovers!

It looks complicated when I write it down but I swear I've seen a lot of tntduo fics written this way and I love it.

Also remember the clip where cc!Wilbur said that c! Wilbur and c!Quackith didn't have any romantic involvments? Well actually mr.'they ad a psychocompetitive relationship' Quackity said that he wanted them to kiss and married you on Qsmp so fuck you also if a rivalry lasts over seven years you are no longer rivals your gay is an extremely true statement an also you bet I saw how Tommy deflate when you denied that c!Wilbur and c!Quackity were gay for each other. So actually its Quackity an Tommy against you so Tntduo is real fuck you.

And that one clip where Phil called Wilbur a homosexual on Qsmp and when Wilbur asks for an example and Phil said 'you've been flirting with Quackity since you got here' and you Didn't Even Deny It.

Thankyou for listening to my ted talk.

#wilbur soot #tntduo #tntblr #quackity #quackbur #fanfic #dsmp #qsmp #Fuck you Wilbur tntduo is real #Dude you have no idea how much I love tntduo #its fucking insane #i wrote this instead of sleeping

47 notes · View notes

apomaro-mellow · 1 year

Text

Part 1 of 2 inspired by this post

Steddie, onesided stommy, hint of a daddy kink (becomes full fledged in part 2)

Tommy had seen a lot in his life (not really) but he never thought he'd see anything like this. Steve. His Steve (he should've been his), on the arm of the Freak.

The word had spread. One last party. One last hurrah in the Harrington house before Steve left Hawkins. Tommy still didn't know where exactly he was going. Was going to ask tonight. He wasn't betting on Eddie Munson being here. The rumors had been flying for a while. Steve had fallen from grace and fallen hard. He was hanging with losers and freaks, the worst of all being Eddie.

But last Tommy heard, Steve wasn't involved with anyone. Seeing the way Eddie had his arm around Steve, that was clearly bad intel. Or maybe the small minded people of Hawkins just chose not to see. To Tommy though, they were quite obvious. Maybe no one was making a fuss because Steve would be gone soon.

The point remained, Eddie was the last person who should have his hands on Steve. Tommy kept his distance and didn't that feel strange. There was once a time when Tommy was there, right at the king's side.

The two of them moved from mingling in the crowd of young adults to sitting on the couch and Eddie still had his arm around him, playing with the short hairs at his neck and the few moments Steve wasn't looking at whoever was talking, he was gazing at Eddie like a god and Tommy couldn't take it anymore. He downed the rest of his beer and walked right on over, taking the empty spot on Steve's other side. He wasn't quite as close as Eddie but their knees were touching.

"Tommy, glad you could make it man", Steve spoke easily like there wasn't a murder suspect playing with his hair.

"I wouldn't miss this." He couldn't help the way his eyes glanced at Munson. He was met with a hard stare. Almost like his mind was being read.

"So what've you been up to?", Steve asked.

Tommy indulged him in the small talk, but he was hyperaware of every movement Munson made. Of the easy way he touched Steve. And the way Steve just let him. At some point Eddie's hand moved from his hair to squeeze between Steve's body and the couch and put his hand on his hip. Then Eddie's hand snuck under his shirt to rub circles on his hip and Tommy wanted to bite something.

"Eddie", Steve whispered to admonish him, but did nothing else to stop him.

And Eddie didn't. While Steve told Tommy about his plans to move to California, Eddie looked right into Tommy's eyes as he nuzzled into Steve's neck and then the teeth came out. That got Steve to tear his gaze away from Tommy and look to Eddie. Steve said something that too soft even for him to fully hear with other people in the house having conversations, but it looked close to Eddie's name again. A very conflicted part of Tommy thought he might've said 'daddy' instead.

"You know, I think it's me and Hagan's turn to catch up", Eddie said. For a moment, Eddie and Steve seemed to have a full discussion with only their eyes before Steve was sighing.

"Alright." Steve stood up and gave Tommy a very familiar look. The 'know your place' face. "Don't bite each other's dicks off while I'm gone."

"My teeth are properly sealed", Eddie grinned.

Once Steve left them, Tommy's interest also left but not quite his intrigue. Clearly, something was going on between them two. Tommy wished he could just call them fags and punch Eddie and be done with it. But he needed to know. He'd never seen Steve this way. He needed to know why.

"Sooo, you and Steve are...?"

"Bingo H", Eddie smirked like he had won, which he sort of did.

Tommy couldn't help the scowl on his face. "How? You actually turned him queer?"

"That's not the part your curious about though, is it?" Eddie leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees while looking him up and down. "Whatchu wanna know is how I can get him to melt like that."

"Steve was never like that with any of his girlfriends", Tommy said.

"Let's just say I have the magic touch."

"Munson, so help me god-"

"Okay, consider this a gift from me to you, since I'll be hightailin' it outta town soon. But Steve told me the moment he knew was when I pushed him up against a wall."

Tommy had a lot of questions. Why? When? And how could that work for Eddie when he had definitely pushed Steve around before. Especially before he officially cemented his place as king of Hawkins High.

"That can't be it. I pushed him once and he just told me to stop being a little bitch."

Eddie laughed so loud that Tommy regretted telling him. But this weird thing couldn't last forever. Steve was going to California. Maybe Tommy could visit him out there and-

"I think maybe the fact I had a broken bottle to his neck helped my situation."

"You threatened his life...and now he just lets you rub on him in public? You're both freaks."

"I just think Stevie knows a real man when he sees him."

Eddie winked and then got up off the couch to find Steve probably. Tommy wanted to find him first. At this point in the party he'd probably be in the kitchen, hovering over whatever snacks he'd put out. Somehow, Eddie had beat him there, and he had his arm around his shoulders while Steve chomped on some pretzels from a bowl.

They were whispering to each other and then they both looked at Tommy at the same time. Steve brushed by Tommy as he walked by.

"See you later", he whispered before going on his way.

Tommy had wanted to find Steve with the intention of propositioning him. He'd never been with a man, but he knew what Steve liked from his talking about the girls he'd fucked. And if he was humping anything that moved like Munson, why not him? Something must have remained in their past friendship for Steve to get all that just from a look.

What he didn't get was why Munson was still grinning at him.

"Hagan. Thomas. Tommy? Can I call you Tommy?", Eddie asked as he walked over to him.

"Just spit out whatever you gotta say." Because if Tommy was reading this right, Steve was heading up to his bedroom, waiting.

Eddie held his hands up in surrender. "Just wanted to offer you another lil parting gift."

"I'm not getting high tonight."

"Not on my stuff, you're not. I was thinkin' a different kinda buzz. One courtesy of me an' Steve." Eddie got close enough to where they were nearly toe to toe.

Tommy fought off the instinct to push him away and bashed his head into the fridge. What kind of gift could come from the two freaks of the evening? As annoyed and confused he was by all of this, he was also intrigued. Eddie could see that and went on.

"Steve wants to give you a show."

Tommy's eyes glanced up to where he knew Steve's room was and Eddie knew he had him. So he backed away and started making his way towards the stairs. Tommy went after him, leaving behind drunk teens and young adults and loud music while they went up the stairs.

Part 2

tag team:

@caelestbliss

#apo writes #fanfiction #stranger things #steddie #tommy hagan #not only did this get long #i got some bad news that turned my mood down #so who knows when part 2 will be here #but it IS in the works

174 notes · View notes

anarchy-and-piglins · 9 months

Note

Hii! I was wondering something about cTechno, but I don't understand that much about his lore, so since you're the oficial Techno specialist I'll ask you. (to be honest I have like a million questions about cTechno, but I'm not gonna annoy you with all of them at once, I'll just ask the one I'm curious about right now)

Who do you think is his favorite/least favorite between Wilbur and Tommy?

I mean, Techno has a complicated relationship with Tommy (and I gotta admit, I'm not sure what's his opinion on Tommy, if he hates or cares for him, or maybe is just upset with him), and Wilbur was a president (government) and a traitor. So like, which one of these two do you do you think he liked (or maybe dislike, if he doesn't like any of them) the most?

Hehe, Official Techno Specialist. I'm not sure if I'm worthy of that title but I will do my best o7 I certainly adore him a whole lot and have thoughts about him constantly. I also love talking about cTechno and answering questions so definitely don't feel scared you'll annoy me. I could talk about that man all day <3

Regarding this specific question though, what matters somewhat is 1) obviously Techno's relationship with both Wilbur and Tommy changes over the course of the story so it kind of depends on what point in the narrative we're looking at and 2) human relationships are very complicated, probably too complicated to boil down to just 'like' and 'dislike'. Especially since his relationships with Wilbur and Tommy are some of the more complicated ones in Techno's lore (especially Tommy).

When it comes to a character like c!Techno specifically, in wanting to know if he likes somebody it's often a lot more useful to look at whether he trusts them.

During Pogtopia, Techno clashes more with Tommy's abrasive attitude and the way he constantly uses Techno for help, with little regard for what Techno actually wants. It's probably safe to say Techno liked Wilbur a bit more at that point, mostly because they were on the same page, though he didn't dislike Tommy necessarily. Techno also felt as if Wilbur was using him to some extent, but since their goals aligned, he was less bothered by it. After the Red Festival, Techno's trust in Wilbur was severely damaged though. And then Nov 16th happened, which Techno regarded as an even bigger betrayal.

After Nov 16th Techno shows fondness and a soft spot for Ghostbur, but also for Tommy in taking him in after exile. Techno clearly doesn't hate either of them but also doesn't trust them (again, especially Tommy). It should be noted that out of all the characters, Techno has a more consistent record of treating Ghostbur as a separate entity from Wilbur. Which is why Techno is able to be pretty chill around him, despite his feelings toward Wilbur's actions.

During this arc, he grows closer to Tommy and a measure of trust builds between them. Again, it's safe to say Techno liked Tommy more than Wilbur (or even Ghostbur) at this point. until the Green Festival, which was another instance of personal betrayal for Techno and one he actually was more hurt by than Nov 16th still.

There are little hints throughout the rest of the story that Techno still does not hate Tommy but he definitely does not trust him and was very hurt by his actions. And that carries a much greater weight for him. The same thing goes for Wilbur - after he was revived, Techno made it pretty clear he didn't trust Wilbur at all. Though again, I wouldn't say he disliked him either. He was pretty neutral about the whole apology thing, though appreciated that Wilbur took responsibility for disregarding Techno's autonomy and using him as a means to an end.

Both relationships are ones where Techno cares about the person involved to some degree, but they also hurt them in such a way that it's impossible to trust them. He neither overtly likes nor dislikes them, the relationships are volatile and that means Techno will guard himself and keep a distance.

Overall though, I'd lean towards saying Techno both likes AND dislikes Tommy more than Wilbur because their relationship was more intense in both directions.

#technoblade #wilbur soot #tommyinnit #thoughts #asks #do take this with the caveat that a lot of this are my thoughts and interpretations too #based on the canon c!Techno lore of course but still

53 notes · View notes

theclaravoyant · 16 days

Text

teach me how to make tiramisu ~ Buck & Bobby - 7x9/10 fic

"Your work is not done." Buck gets a call in the middle of the night. A reflection through food.

AN ~ yall I am sooooo not ready (but also, bring it on <3)

MAJOR 7x09 SPOILERS and some 7x10 promo used for inspiration. Canon Compliant up to the end of 7x09 including references to Bobby's implied suicidality. Angst, hurt/comfort.

Relationships: Buck & Bobby, background bathena, bucktommy, 118

Read on AO3 (3200wd)

teach me how to make tiramisu

It's too-early-to-read-the-time o'clock when Buck's phone starts ringing. Or rather, buzzing: it's on silent because it always is, but even just the vibration breaking through his Do Not Disturb never fails to set his heart racing. Buck reaches for it on instinct before he's even really opened his eyes, and when his hand knocks it off the unfamiliar nightstand he flops out of bed after it, frantic.

“H-Hello?”

“Evan Buckley?”

“Speaking.” He scowls. Rubs the sleep from his eyes. He knows that voice. “Teresa?”

“Buck-” she says, because he's on a first name basis with half the staff at First Presbyterian at this point. She sounds choked up.

“Who is it? Is Christopher okay?” He doesn't wait for her to answer. Something inside him just knows that isn't right. “Is it Eddie?”

“I'm afraid it's Captain Nash.”

Buck's pretty sure he stops breathing.

Teresa tells him what's happened, as much as she can. Something about a fire. Fully involved. She explains that the reason she's not calling Sergeant Grant right now as next of kin is that Athena was right there with him – she's still in and out of consciousness. Severe smoke inhalation. And Bobby... Bobby is...

Buck's distantly aware that the phone is slipping from his fingers. He's already bee-lining for the door like the station alarms are ringing and nothing else matters.

Tommy runs after him down the driveway without question. Bundled into his arms are Buck's phone, two jackets and a set of car keys.

Oh yeah, Buck thinks numbly. Gonna need those.

The first time it happens, Buck is still in his early days. He's been un-fired, and he appreciates it – really he does – but old habits die hard. So if he's maybe a little too lost in his phone while it's … uh, peaceful, and if he's giggling away at some potentially inappropriate jokes, and even more inappropriate pictures he may or may not have taken in a most definitely inappropriate bathroom, who's to blame him?

Bobby, apparently. He slaps a chopping board, a knife and a red bell pepper onto the island so close to Buck it makes him jump.

“Dice it.”

“What?”

“Chop it up into little squares,” Bobby says, and if he thinks he's being funny there's not the slightest hint about it on his face. “Like dice. I'm cooking for twenty people, Buckley. I need an extra pair of hands.

“Last time I helped in the kitchen you about took my hand off.”

Bobby huffs, but he decides not to argue about what constitutes 'helping' as opposed to 'stealing cheese', and busies himself with several dozen eggs and a mixing bowl instead.

Buck's not satisfied with that as an answer – which, in fairness, is a quality Bobby is trying to encourage in the kid, irritating as it can be. So he sighs.

“Just keeping you out of trouble. You've got that 'about to steal City property' look about you again, and I don't like it. You wanna be part of this house, stop kicking your heels like a twelve year old and pitch in, Firefighter.”

Buck picks up the knife, and starts dicing.

Buck's brain is starting to catch up with itself by the time they pull into the parking lot. Tommy hovers around him nonetheless, ready to swoop in if his panic-stricken brain decides to walk into traffic or something, which it probably would have done if that was the fastest way to get inside. It's just gone 2am and it's freezing. Good call on the jackets. Buck shoves his hands deeper into the pockets as Teresa approaches him with a solemn expression.

“The good news is; Sergeant Grant is stable,” she assures him. “She's in recovery, and we expect she'll be waking soon.”

Buck nods, but he still can't quite get oxygen into his lungs. The gaping, silent, and the bad news... almost swallows him whole. He knows what wing they're in. The hallway she nods toward. He knows it so well his knees don't even collapse on him. He's had more than one nightmare about this hallway, in which the distance from the ICU to Recovery seems to stretch and stretch and stretch the more he tries to get there.

Walking the other way, Buck finds the distance isn't nearly long enough. He's barely registered taking a step before he finds Bobby, trapped on the other side of the glass in a room of his own. Lifeless. Literally. He's a shadow of himself; pale and gaunt and imploding. Looking at him, Buck is struck by a memory of the man from years ago, looking pathetically up at him and Hen from the bottom of his shower.

“Help.”

“Eddie: Engines. Hen: Laundry. Chim: Inventory,” Bobby commands. “Buck, you're riding the bucket. Lunch is upstairs when you're done.”

There's grumbling stomachs and smiling faces all around as they dissipate off to their house tasks. Buck doesn't mind the sweeping and mopping as much as the others: call him crazy but he actually kind of enjoys cleaning. He likes to sing to himself and bop around as he watches all the dust gather and the floor begin to shine. Or he lets his mind wander. Like, how is there always so much hair in here? It's not like any of them have any to speak of. He imagines there is a dog here after all. The spirit of a dog, maybe, living in the walls. He's a Dalmatian, naturally, and he's probably called something obvious like Spot, but Buck likes Fiver. He chuckles to himself as he imagines Bobby full-naming Five Alarm Fire to let him know he's serious about getting out of the damned bin. The man seems to laugh a lot more these days. He'd probably be up for it.

In defence of his mucking around, time passes quickly like this, and Buck finds he's beaten almost everybody back upstairs. Only Eddie's there, doing a crossword, and Bobby, who is of course manning the kitchen.

“Can I help?”

“Sure, kid.” Bobby smiles, and gestures toward a deliciously seasoned roast chicken with his own cilantro-speckled knife. “Wanna shred the bird? Here, use this.”

Bobby passes over a glass bowl and pair of forks. He makes a gesture suggesting how to use them which Buck mimics effortlessly and of course, it's brilliantly effective. Strips of succulent meat fall away and not for the first time, Buck notices something in the way the repetitive movement seems to calm his perpetually overstimulated nerves. It's not unlike cleaning in that way. He sighs. He can't help it. Something primordially anxious inside him is just... relaxed.

Damn, Bobby's good.

“Is this...” he wonders, and trails off because it sounds silly in his head, but Bobby is watching. He's paying attention, with that same quietly invested expression he had when Buck asked about the difference between mesclun and spring mix, or why they prep the hoses with the little loop in them at the end.

“Is this some kind of Mr Miyagi thing?”

Bobby laughs. “Wax on, wax off?”

“Yeah.”

He's being serious.

Bobby looks down at the tray of neatly arranged part-burgers before him. A dozen buns; all lightly toasted and sporting a tiny heap of grated cabbage, carrot, and cilantro; a couple bearing tofu and the others just awaiting their chicken topper. He methodically adds a near-matching drizzle of sweet chilli sauce to each one.

“You know what,' he muses, “maybe it is.”

Tommy's hand trails gentle circles around his back. It feels like he's been sobbing for hours.

Buck leans over his knees in the seat, slowly turning the plastic cup of water in his hands. He tries listen to Tommy's heart or his breathing or something to make the world feel steady again, but the rhythmic beeping of the monitor is the only thing he can hear. And the quiet shhk, shhk, as the ventilator pushes Bobby's chest up and down. At least there's that. For now.

Is this how it felt, for Bobby? For all of them, rotating through at his bedside with nothing to do but count every pseudo-breath and wait?

“Bobby -”

A familiar voice, devastated, snaps both of them to attention as Athena bursts into the room. She runs straight for his bedside like she hasn't even noticed they're there. Maybe she hasn't, as she clutches at his chest with shaking hands and presses her face as close to Bobby's as she can get and Buck's pretty sure she's crying. She never cries, not in front of people. But then she asks, without turning to look -

“What happened?”

“There was a fire,” Buck says, at the same time Tommy supplies -

“He had a heart attack.”

She turns away from Bobby then, her whole expression racked with desperation and pain.

“He didn't do this?”

“Wh- no.” Buck frowns. “Athena. He had a heart attack after he pulled you out.”

“A heart-? Okay.” She nods, then nods some more, and glances back at Bobby like she doesn't really believe it. She's at war with her own arms, refusing to let them cross over her chest and betray the fact that she's losing the battle against the screaming pain inside. Frazzled is not a word often used to describe Athena Grant, but maybe this is it. She pushes through it nonetheless. “You said there was a fire? How did it start? Who started it?”

“I don't know, I- I was going to ask you.” Honestly, he hadn't even thought about it.

Tommy stands up. “Please, Sergeant- Athena, I think you should sit down.”

Athena makes a bristling, flicking gesture that says in no uncertain terms: don't come near me, don't touch me, don't tell me what to do. There's a steely glint in her eye in spite of the tears and Buck is once again struck by her tenacity. She may be breaking down, but that woman never stops moving. She paces like a caged tiger.

“I'll call Lou,” she decides, and begins to pat herself down and then she realises – her phone is in the house. Buck watches the horror seep into her face and grind her gears to a halt as that thought leads to another and another and it starts to catch up with her; what's happened to the house, where she's probably lived since he was in diapers. Where she'd met them all, made two marriages, raised her kids... He can't even imagine.

“Hen will be here soon,” he offers quietly. “Athena. Maybe just...”

They're interrupted by a knock at the door. “Excuse me,” Nurse Simon interrupts, as gently as he can. “Sergeant, there's some detectives at the desk for you. Hollis and Barnes, they said... from Arson.”

Athena nods, manages a shaky thank you and promises to be right out. Simon leaves, at least enough to let the door close for a moment and before Buck can even open his mouth to suggest that maybe she shouldn't go out there right now, Athena's mind is made up. She takes a deep, deliberate breath, and it's like the emotion just folds back up inside her. The tears, the shaking, it quiets down to a dull roar emanating from her that only somebody who knows her might detect. Before him stands Sergeant Grant again. Mostly.

“You look after him,” she commands. Then she's off to fight dragons, and Buck is feeling awestruck and if possible even more pathetic, because he's pretty sure he couldn't even stand up right now if he tried.

The smell hits his nostrils, and Buck throws his head back and moans with delight.

“Lasagne!! Fuck yeah!!” he cheers. His mouth is already watering as he leans over the loft railing and shouts down to the others - “Hey guys!! It's a six cheese day!”

There's a round of drowsy cheering. They're into day two of an aggressively medium, surprisingly dull forty eight. Bobby must have figured they could use the pickup. He doesn't even argue when, on his way to the coffee machine, Buck pinches a couple fingers of cheese and sprinkles them into his mouth. Bobby likes to say he's given up trying to stop him but honestly, it's gone further than that now. It's become a familiar little ritual and dare he say it, the man is fond. He even grates a little extra these days, for just that purpose.

“I figured it out, by the way,” Buck says.

“Figured what out?”

“The sixth cheese. It's Romano. The real stuff, with sheep's milk.” He shrugs, with a smug smile, and pinches just a little of that one too. “Nice touch.”

“You figured that out just by taste?” Bobby blinks, trying not to show his incredulity, and Buck basks in it for a moment before shrugging it off.

“Nah. Grocery store receipt.”

Bobby laughs and shakes his head. Ingenuity; that's one way to do it.

“Alright,” he says. “I think you're ready. Come here, Grasshopper.”

“What?”

Bobby shuffles out of the way of the largest bowl, where ground beef and tomato and onion and herbs are coming together into something magical. Buck moves into the open place with a slightly hesitant sense of awe. Bobby just smiles gently, and if he notices Buck maybe getting a bit choked up when he takes the tea towel from his own shoulders and slings it over his, he doesn't say anything. Just pats him on the back, and leans over to instruct;

“So, next is the garlic.”

It's hard to believe it's been almost a week now.

He's at least managed to go home, get some sleep albeit terrible, and change his clothes. They've all been taking turns sitting with Bobby – even Hen and Eddie, with their own life catastrophes, can't bear to leave him entirely alone. Athena virtually camps out in his room, splitting her time between the hospital and the station. Nobody wants to put too fine of a point on how she doesn't have anywhere else to go. (Even though she does. Of course she does. But she won't – not yet. She's fighting dragons).

Buck's arrival at least lets her settle enough that she allows Hen to take her down to the corner for breakfast. He's happy to help, even if happy is the wrong word to describe anything about this. Touched, maybe, and grateful to be of service. Then she hugs him, and a hollow sort of dread washes through him like a haunted wind.

Hen sends a message after they leave.

Still no improvement. The docs came by last night for first official talk about a Decision.

If you have any deaths door secrets, Buckaroo,now's the time.

Love you.

He pulls up a chair to Bobby's bedside, and collapses into it with a heavy sigh. His eyes full of tears, he looks around and it's equal parts comforting and terrifying: Bobby's room is slowly filling up with well wishes and trinkets, flowers and children's drawings. Like a grave site. Like a shrine.

His bedside table has been kept mostly clear except for a lamp and some water, a worn old prayer book, his own brown glass rosary, and a familiar St Christopher medallion. The patron saint of travellers, or so says the internet, and protection against sudden death. To Eddie, the man himself had once explained, it means Christopher, of course, and the rest is just a story. But Buck wonders if those aren't actually the same thing. If coming back for your child, against time and distance and death and all odds, is not the most powerful thing in this world. He's seen it happen.

Then again, he's seen it fail too.

He's seen people give up, he's seen them surrender. He's seen them fight to the last bloody breath and it still not be enough.

Please, he begs silently, please be enough.

And then: please be fighting.

And he's not sure why it's taken this long to hit him. Why it hasn't occurred to him earlier that Bobby could be anywhere else but inside his own mind somewhere, lost and trying, finding Athena and Michael and shenaniganising his way through life lessons. Running down that mind-bending hallway like his life depends on it and smashing into that locked room because it does.

But maybe he's not.

Maybe he'd come to find Buck in the locker room that day to try and tell him something. Maybe he'd given away his prayer book and his apron and his firehouse for some other reason. Maybe Athena knows, and he can hear it in her voice as he replays it in his head, and he can feel it in her arms that gave him that tight, brief, heartbroken embrace.

“He didn't do this?”

Well. Maybe he's ready to let go, but Buck isn't ready to let him.

He leans over and squeezes one of Bobby's hands. It's still warm, which is kind of eerie, but it gives him hope that maybe the man can hear him. After all, he could when he was down there. Sort of. He closes his eyes and digs deep.

“Come on, Cap,” he whispers. “Come home. Seven more years, remember? You promised.”

Did he promise? Or did he look him forlornly in the eyes and vaguely agree when he'd actually already resigned and hadn't told anyone?

Fuck.

Tears splash down Buck's cheeks, and he squeezes tighter until he can feel it in his own chest.

“I want to talk to you about Tommy,” he says. “Even if I don't need to. I want to. I'm- I'm so happy, Bobby you don't even know. It's like you said. I'm at ease. I finally feel- and I couldn't have done it without you. I can't do it without you. I can't -”

Sobs threaten to choke him and he tries to swallow them down. He's not sure he has it left in him, to cry so much again.

“If you don't want to be Captain anymore, that's fine, but can you just – can you just come back and be Bobby? Please? 'Cause if I ever have a kid I want them to call you grandpa and if I ever get married I want you to walk me down the isle and if I ever get my own station I want to knock on your door in the middle of the night to bug you for advice -” He laughs a strangled laugh - “'cause you know I would. I will. I swear.”

Bobby's face remains impassive. The machines tick and beep and whirr steadily on. Buck tries to find the promise in that. To centre himself. It would be nice if the man could wake up jolting and screaming right about now. Make him feel like he's having some sort of effect. But even if he isn't, the reality is, he might not get another chance.

“I had a dream the other night,” he continues, “that you were teaching me how to make tiramisu. I don't even like tiramisu, but I'd learn it from you. And your peach cobbler - you have to show me that. And I bet you do a killer apple pie. And are you really going to leave it to Eddie to show me dulche du leche? Come on.”

He covers Bobby's hands with both of his this time, and leans so far forward his forehead rests on the scratchy teal hospital blanket.

“Your work is not done, Bobby. Please.”

He holds his breath -

- and he could swear, something moves.

#buck #evan buckley #bobby nash #tv: 911 #911 fic #911 spoilers #clara's fic tag #buck & bobby

10 notes · View notes