chaoticlava101

[chaoticlava101]

pride & prejudice buddie au !

listen, after the events of march 30th 2025 we all need Something so here is what i can contribute (dedicated to @chaoticlava101 (bobby is NOT DEAD))

He tilts his head, crossing the room slowly. Piano. Very impressive piano, the notes floating into one another seamlessly, joyfully, and Buck finds another door, this one half-cracked open, and he peers inside.

A child.

A boy, head full of golden curls and fingers dancing over the keys, sat at a small pianoforte playing a song Buck used to play as a child himself, still sometimes does, when May's in a bad mood. It’s bold and loud and feels like home and Buck smiles, a small breath of laughter coming out of him as he watches the boy slouch. He's ducking his head down, closer to the keys, and Buck unknowingly mimics him.

Buck’s smiling, until a shadow crosses over the boy’s shoulder.

Buck’s smiling, until the boy looks up, cheering so loudly while the music cuts off because the shadow, the man, grabs the boy by his waist and spins him around, their joint laughter echoing in the room as if it were a new composition of music, just as beautiful as the interrupted piece.

Their matching grins catch the sunlight.

Buck’s smiling, until the two of them turn and find Buck by the door.

Then, Buck's running.

Sprinting through the halls, down a set of stairs, out of the house itself, Buck pays no attention to decorum or rules or pleasantries as he races as fast as he can. His heart thumps painfully against his ribs, his blood racing and stomach turning, his -

Why did they come? Buck warned them – and then Karen promised –

"These men are never at home."

“Mr. Buckley!”

Caught. Buck slows down, walking his last few paces as if a man sent to the gallows before he pauses, waiting a moment, gathering his nerve.

He turns once he’s properly cautioned himself to be sensible.

His heart still fumbles erratically in his chest at the sight in front of him.

Mr. Diaz, walking steadily, confidently, towards him, long paces eating the distance between them easily. The dark blue suit he’s in compliments his hair so nicely, makes his brown eyes seem brighter somehow. Buck swallows, looks away, looks down, fidgets with his hands and waits.

Waiting for what, he has no idea.

They both stand there, facing one another, almost in touching distance, and Buck’s heart reaches into the gap between them as he opens his mouth.

“I thought you were in London,” Buck starts, almost an accusation.

Mr. Diaz’s eyes widen a fraction, but his voice is soft, so soft and gentle, sweet like a flower as he responds. “No. No, I’m not.”

“No.” Buck repeats nonsensically. He looks away again, and can’t stop himself from fretting, thunder in his veins.

“I came back a day early –”

“ – We were not to come if we were to know –”

“ – Some business with my steward.”

“ – You were here.”

They both pause, the awkwardness of their dual interruption once again silencing them. It's a heavy feeling, sitting deep in Buck’s stomach, and he tries to swallow the lump in his throat but he can't.

A glance up sees Mr. Diaz staring at him, his full pout parted slightly as he gazes at Buck's face, lingering on his brow, his lips. He says nothing. Buck scratches his nose, his neck.

“I’m in Derbyshire with my cousins,” Buck announces unprompted, the words trickling out of him but not the ones he knows he ought to say.

I'm sorry. I wish I could change that day. Do you -

Mr. Diaz nods sincerely. “And are you having a pleasant trip?” He asks, wincing slightly, and Buck could sigh in relief at the slow stagger into normalcy. Maybe he can escape quickly, forget this ever happened, and swear never to leave Longbourn again. Surely Ravi would not mind coming back home and visiting Buck, rather than Buck having to make the trip to Kent and risk seeing Mr. Diaz in Rosings?

“Very pleasant. Tomorrow we got to Matlock –”

“Tomorrow?” Mr. Diaz repeats, loud and abrupt, and the gentleman snaps his gaze to find Buck’s eyes; his brow furrowed, cast down and dark. He looks so intense, so serious, so torn.

Buck pauses, staring back. His eyes are so warm. Buck's heart skips, and he looks away.

Mr. Diaz’s voice is purposefully soft again, restrained, as he continues. “Are you staying at the Lambton?”

“Yes. At the Rose and Crown.”

“Yes.”

They stumble into a pause once more, and Buck makes the mistake of looking up at the man and can’t hold it in any longer. It bursts out of him, like a wild stampede. He’s shaking his head and clenching his hands together.

“I’m so sorry to intrude, they said that the house was open for visitors, I had- I had no idea –” Buck catches himself and feels sick as he watches Mr. Diaz move to keep Buck’s eyes on him as he shakes his head gently, like he would with a child.  

Buck doesn’t deserve gentle.

“May I see you back to the village?” Mr. Diaz asks, as careful as if approaching a wild deer.

Buck skitters accordingly.

“No,” it comes out sharper than he means, and Buck tries to defuse the outburst with a balm; a small smile. “I’m very fond of walking,” he states, and Mr. Diaz lets out a gentle laugh. It makes something in Buck bloom.

“Yes,” he agrees emphatically, and the smile that had just barely graced his face slips away as he finishes his thought. “Yes, I know.”

I know y-

Buck wants to run, desperately, and he wants to shake at his previous self and he wants to yell at the world and he wants, he wants, he wants –

He pastes on a smile he fears isn’t convincing, and looks back at Mr. Diaz one more time, the gentleman's dark, dark eyes already on him. “Goodbye, Mr. Diaz.”

Buck bows quickly, not waiting for Mr. Diaz to finish his own in response before he’s gone, pacing down the final flight of stairs.

– ou. I know you.

[chaoticlava101]

parallel to 3x1 where Buck's been barely leaving his bed and Eddie, home for the funeral (or permanently we hope), let's himself in and this time instead of pulling Buck out of bed he gets under the covers and they just spend time being sad together

[chaoticlava101]

The cast taking a picture on set 💗

[chaoticlava101]

Oliver posted this on his insta stories and deleted it 20 seconds later 😭

[chaoticlava101]

Me. All day. Today.

[chaoticlava101]

[chaoticlava101]

The month of April is now marked unsafe for father figures. Close enough. Welcome back post endgame crashout.

[chaoticlava101]

[chaoticlava101]

Stay on here all day and night for the rest of your life with me

[chaoticlava101]

buck is gonna be so fucking insufferable after this. he got weird about marie curie bobby nash, presumed dobby/ or even a fake out is going to bring the insufferability up to a million. man isn’t going to be able to sit at a table before buck is inspecting the legs of the chair. bobby nash goes home buck is trailing behind him in his F15000000 making sure he gets home safe. bobby opens his eyes in the middle of the night, and there he is, bisexual beance buck buckley holding a pinpoint light checking his pupils

[chaoticlava101]

Bobby & Buck 9-1-1, Season Two

[chaoticlava101]

the reason i know bobby is not dead is because buck is pictured outside the casket. if bobby was dead we would not see buck either he would be in the casket with bobby. that’s it

[chaoticlava101]

All The Work That Needs To Be Done

14,661 words / T

Buck nods, two slow movements like any action at all pains him. Eddie isn’t sure how literal or metaphorical that statement is, and wants to tell him again to let a doctor look at him, but they’ve had that argument several times already tonight and Buck had a look in his eyes like- like Eddie doesn’t even know what, but whatever would have happened if he’d kept pushing would not have been good, so he’d let it drop and stuck close to his side. "She shouldn't be alone."

—

Bobby dies. Eddie worries. Life goes on.

[chaoticlava101]

Good night. Good bye. Sweet dreams.

[chaoticlava101]

I need to see a Peter Krause bts video or picture…if I am to survive the next few weeks. Thankyou.

[chaoticlava101]

[chaoticlava101]

i’m kinda like if a dying strip mall was a girl