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Eddie when he's certain of something vs when he's not

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buck is going to come up with like insane fantasies in his head about eddie just living life in his new house and its going to drive him fucking bonkers. he's going to look at every house and be like here's where eddie will eat his cereal in the morning he will probably pick this bedroom to sleep in and give the other one to chris and maybe he needs a third one just in case someone visits and heres his bathroom it has a big mirror where he will shave his beautiful face and heres the garage where he will park his fuckass truck when he drives home from the el paso fire station he will work at maybe with his new partner in the front seat terrified because he doesn't UNDERSTAND eddie's road rage and getaway driver habits he doesn't know HE SHOULD OFFER TO DRIVE to avoid that situation and then maybe eddie will smile at his new partner and say do you want to come into my house and spend time in it with me do you want a key new partner? do you want to live here with me? you're my partner you'll never be a guest in this house i live in so many miles from los angeles

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so many things going on but buck noticing eddie is wearing a button down. he categorizes that man in his head like a fucking barbie. everytime eddie comes over he shuffles through his selection and clicks through date night cologne ;) fancy meeting button down ;(. there has never been someone more in love ever

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hes SO funny ‘guess i have to buy a house in texas’ how about you have one conversation with a loved one abt what they want my love

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bucks face. face of a man who just realised hes being abandoned again . face of a man who is going to do something fucking CRAZYYYYYYYY

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too little, too late

(8x08 coda) (buddie) (1.2k) the episode chose violence and so did i :) spoilers for 8x08, and hey, guess what? this is my 100th 911 fic! it feels right that it's an evil one <3

The real estate agent has an irritating voice. It’s pitchy and run through with vocal fry, and if Buck has to listen to her talk for another second, he might actually tear his hair out. And it’s definitely about her voice. Nothing to do with the largely helpful information she’s handing over to Eddie like candy on Halloween.

“Anyway, we can touch base again once you’ve had a chance to look over those listings. I’m sure we’ll find something for both of you to love!” the realtor says.

Buck smiles. It feels brittle and fake.

“Thank you so much,” Eddie says with all the sincerity Buck can’t quite muster. He ends the call and sits back against the couch.

“That, uh—that went, um—” He’s choking on the positivity he’s trying so hard to exude. “—well,” he manages.

“Yeah,” Eddie says. He runs a hand through his hair. “Seems easier than I thought it was going to be.”

Easy.

That’s—

Yeah.

“You know you—you don’t have to buy straight away,” Buck says as casually as he can manage, which is to say, not casually at all.

“Buck,” Eddie says with a sigh.

“I know!” Buck says, throwing his hands out in a gesture of surrender. “Just—maybe you want to make sure, you know? Before it’s—it’s permanent.”

“I can’t keep missing out on his life,” Eddie says quietly.

Buck swallows. He knows. He knows! Knows it like he knows there’s going to be an Eddie-and-Chris shaped hole in his heart for the rest of his goddamn life.

“I don’t want you to,” Buck says, and it’s maybe the first honest thing that’s come out of his mouth since he sat down on Eddie’s couch.

Bile rises in the back of his throat as he realizes this might be one of the last times he gets to sit on this couch, in this house, with this man.

Eddie drops his head into his hands. “I don’t—” He cuts himself off.

“Have you told Bobby yet?” Buck asks. His breath catches.

“No,” Eddie says.

“Oh,” Buck says in a rush of air. “That’s—” He wants to say good. He can’t say good. Eddie needs—he needs—

Eddie lifts his head from his hands and his eyes are shining. “I don’t want to,” he admits. “I thought—”

“That he’d want to come back,” Buck supplies when Eddie doesn’t finish his thought.

He nods.

“He still—he could still—” Buck starts.

“He’s not going to change his mind.” Eddie cuts him off. “He doesn’t hate me. It’s worse than that. He doesn’t care.”

Buck’s chest feels tight. “He—he loves you, Eddie,” he says weakly.

“Maybe before, but—”

“He does,” Buck insists. “And—and if this is what you have to do to make sure that stays true I—I get it.” He does. He gets it. He’d do anything for Christopher. He’d—

It’s the worst feeling in the entire fucking world, but he’d give up Eddie for that kid. Is. Is giving up Eddie for that kid. A sob jumps up in Buck’s throat. He fights it back.

“I want to believe you,” Eddie says.

Buck knows that he doesn’t.

“Have you, um. Have you talked to Chris about this yet?” Buck asks, feeling a little bit like he’s just laid his neck across the base of a guillotine.

Eddie shakes his head. “No, I—I’ve got to do this, whether he wants me to or not.”

All at once Buck’s angry. Angry at Eddie, angry at his parents, at fucking Kim, at himself, and maybe even a little bit at Christopher.

“Eddie, you—you told him he could come back!” He says, a little louder than he means to. “Doesn’t he deserve to know that’s not going to be an option anymore?”

Eddie’s gaze snaps to his. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“He’s got—he’s got friends here, and—and Carla, and—” He can’t say it. He doesn’t have the right to say it, doesn’t have the right to feel like he’s already lost a limb and now they’re taking a lung, but— “and me,” he finishes quietly.

Something like devastation flashes across Eddie’s face. “Buck, I—”

“No,” Buck says quickly, standing up from the couch. “I shouldn’t have—I’m not—”

“Buck, wait,” Eddie says, following him as he retreats toward the door.

“I, um—I forgot, I have to—I promised Maddie,” he tries to lie.

“Please don’t go,” Eddie says, and god, how many times in Buck’s life has he yearned to hear someone say that to him and mean it. How many nights has he driven home from Eddie’s wishing he’d been asked to stay.

This thing building in his chest, this thing of anger and grief and regret—it hurts. Every breath he takes is a little more constricted, a little less effective.

Eddie looks at him, and Buck sees it. That thing he’s always wanted to see. That thing he didn’t even know he wanted from Eddie until right now and it’s—

There was a small, naïvely hopeful part of Buck that really still believe that if someone loved him enough, they’d stay. Eddie loves him, looks at Buck like he’ll break his heart when he walks out the door, and it still isn’t—

Eddie loves him, and it isn’t enough to make him stay.

Buck is in love with him, he realizes, and it doesn’t fucking matter because he’s leaving. Like Abby and like Tommy, except Buck didn’t know how much hurt he hadn’t even discovered yet, because this isn’t Abby or Tommy, it’s Eddie, and Eddie—

Eddie’s supposed to be the one that stays.

Buck shakes his head and shuffles back until the doorknob is digging into his spine. “I have to,” he breathes, a grossly distorted reflection of what neither of them has quite managed to say.

Eddie opens his mouth like he’s going to ask again, like he’s going to beg Buck to stay, to show him all these awful pieces of his heart that he’s just found so he can remind himself that it’s not too much to leave behind.

Buck’s out the door before he can say another word.

He throws himself into the Jeep and all but fishtails it out of Eddie’s driveway. He makes it three streets away before he has to pull over.

The first sob surprises him with its softness; the second with its violence. He wraps his arms tight around his stomach and, god, he tries to breathe. But there’s not—there’s not enough oxygen in the entire world to make up for the way his lungs refuse to expand in the face of this loss.

He has to—he can’t—Eddie needs him to pull it together. To—to help him. To support him, and god help him, Buck will. There’s nothing Eddie could ask of him that he wouldn’t give. Nothing Eddie could do, Buck’s realizing, to make him love him any less.

Hot tears spill down Buck’s cheeks. He takes a shuddering breath and wipes them away. His vital organs are crumbling, so what?

He’ll set himself on fire if that’s what it takes to keep Eddie warm.

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eddie is choosing joy so far as being closer to his son. but isn't it soooo convenient that it's also a punishment? returning to the place that you once recognised was killing you? isn't that so great. isn't that the best

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oh nothing just thinking about andrea reyes meeting jonah

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eddie being a passenger princess is something that can actually be so personal, im so glad we have collectively agreed on this

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I get logistics and time constraints etc. but what I wouldn’t give to have a scene with Carlos and Andrea where she gives him permission to let this go. He’s so haunted by the fact that Gabriel was shot in his home and Andrea was there and watched him die and couldn’t scrub his blood from the tile floor. Carlos has a complex web of motivating factors but one is definitely that he feels the need to do this for her, that he can’t let the man who “made a widow of my mother” get away, that he has to get justice and closure for his Mama because that’s what a good son would do. What I wouldn’t give to see her hold his face in her hands and tell him “Mijo, the best thing that you can do for me and the best way to honour your father is to live, create a life for yourself that is just as beautiful as we always wanted for you, without dragging this anchor around for the rest of your days.” Carlos still might not be able to take her advice, but I think he needs to hear that from her anyway, to be told he hasn’t failed her if he can’t solve this case.

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is anyone else outside of the US getting this second little box when they try to go to ao3? idk it just makes me nervous

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That's it

A crash course in French endearments by yours truly because I cannot bear to see ‘cher’ used as a term of endearment ever again.

DISCLAIMER: I am from Brussels, Belgium. The nuances and commonness of these endearments will likely vary depending on where your characters are from, though I feel like most of these endearments are quite common all over the European Francophonie, at least in my experience.

HOW TO READ THIS LIST: Some endearments have only a masculine or feminine version, whereas some have both and change depending on whether the addressee is male or female. If the possessive is between brackets, it is optional. I've put the endearments I feel like are the most common in bold.

(Mon/ma) chéri(e) = (lit. my dear (masc./fem.)) Can be used for lovers and children. It could be argued that mon cher/ma chère would be better translational equivalents but I would personally never use that to refer to a lover (maybe ironically? But probably not).

Lovers

(Mon) Chou: (lit. cabbage/(cream) puff) for men and women. In my experience, more frequent without the possessive. Could potentially be used among close female friends, likely without the possessive. Could also be used for children, though especially for younger children, I think chouchou is more common.

(Mon) Bébé: (lit. baby) for men and women. In my experience, considered more cheesy with the possessive. With the possessive, it can also be used for little kids.

Mon amour: (lit. my love) for men and women. The possessive is obligatory!

Mon coeur: (lit. my heart) for men and women. The possessive is obligatory!

Ma belle: (lit. my beautiful) for women. ‘Mon beau’ (male equivalent) sounds strange to me.

Bichette: (lit. little doe) for women. Could potentially be perceived as demeaning, depending on the context.

Ma mie: (lit. soft part of the bread) for women. Very old-fashioned in my experience (think your great-grandparents and beyond).

Poupée: (lit. doll) for women. Rather old-fashioned in my experience. Could potentially be perceived as demeaning, depending on the context.

Children

(mon) poussin: (lit. my chick) used for little boys and little girls. In my experience, more common with the possessive.

(mon) chouchou: used for little boys and little girls.

(ma) princesse: (lit. my princess) used for little girls. 

(ma) puce: (lit. my flea): used for girls. In my experience, more common with the possessive.

(mon) trésor: (lit. my treasure) used for boys and girls. Can also be used for lovers, but I would be more likely to use it with kids. In my experience, more common with the possessive.

Mon/ma grand(e): (lit. my big boy/girl → big as in mature/tall) used for boys and girls. The possessive is obligatory!

(Mon) loulou: used for little boys. In the plural, it can be used to refer to a group with both boys and girls.

(Ma) fifille: (lit. my little girl/daughter) used for girls, and sometimes young women (but could be considered demeaning depending on the context, especially when addressing adult women).

(Ma) cocotte: Used for little girls, and sometimes young women (but could be considered demeaning depending on the context, especially when addressing adult women). In my experience, more common without the possessive.��

If you are unsure about a certain (translation of an) endearment you have found on the internet, don’t hesitate to reach out to a native speaker! They should be able to inform you in which contexts that endearment is (not) appropriate. (Please, no more endearments typically used for children in sex scenes...)

This has been a PSA. Thank you/merci 🫡

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Hello hi yeah um underrated moment when eddie just *feels* buck's presence behind him and lets him snatch the phone back 🫠

it also gives us a perfect image of how it will look like when buck walks behind him to wrap his arms around eddie’s waist and eddie leans back to rest of buck’s chest and buck leans down to kiss him on the side of his neck <3

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RYAN GUZMAN as EDMUNDO "EDDIE" DIAZ 9-1-1 - S08 E06 · Confessions

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hey man. nice regional dialect. mind if i apply some baseless assumptions about your personhood to it? i was also gonna prescribe morality to it as well. if that’s cool with you

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The ‘you’re mature for your age’ to sleeping with a bed full of plushies in your mid twenties pipeline is real