#Texan Army

[rabbitcruiser]

Texas Revolution: The Texan Army captured San Antonio on December 9, 1835.

[ghostwarriorrrr]

United States - US Air Force (USAF) | Vance Air Force Base | Raytheon T-6A Texan II

[notasecrettelepath]

Update!

In this chapter, Buck overthinks about the other night - whether Eddie wanted to punch him or kiss him. Buck and Eddie have an ugly fight. Christopher makes two adults cry and it's not good. The 118 responds to an apartment fire under a lightning storm. Buck goes up the ladder.

Chapters: 9/21 (outline grew wings and one more chapter!) Fandom: 9-1-1 (TV) Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV) [Slow Burn - Angst with a Happy Ending - Post Season 5] Rating: M | Words: 71k right now.

Chapter Snippet:

“No. But I’m your best friend. And I’m worried about you, man.” “Worried about what?” Eddie says dismissively, as if Buck is saying something ridiculous. “That I’ll take a baseball bat to my life again? Been there before, I usually only make these type of mistakes once.” Buck wants to say it’s not funny. Buck wants to say when he received that call from Christopher… the only other time Buck had heard that desperation in his voice was during the tsunami and Buck had gotten tickets for speeding and cutting red lights from that night. He wants to say for two seconds there after he’d breached into Eddie’s room, he didn’t see or hear Eddie and he thought the worst. He wants to say he knew then he loved Eddie unconditionally, but didn’t know he was in love with him, and now it seemed so obvious, because those two seconds were hell. Those seconds after the shooting, when Buck was frozen and Eddie was bleeding, were hell. Those seconds not long ago, when Buck heard a gunshot and thought the escaped prisoner had aimed it at Eddie, were hell. Those minutes after the well collapsed were hell. Buck wants to say that multiple times now, he had to live in a world without Eddie, and even if it only lasted a few moments, they had burned away something vital inside him. And he had no idea how far his love went because thinking about it scared him too much. But Buck doesn’t say any of that.

Read master & a hound on AO3.

I do think this might be one of the best chapters I've ever written, and for sure 10k words I am extremely proud of. Buddie angst is just 🤌🤌🤌🤌. They love each other so muchhh and it terrifies them both for different reasons!!!!!

[2inx4inx8inbrick]

2024 Center Point Dayton Airshow

taken 6/22/24

[mayday396]

You know I was watching some American shows and then I come across a Review video of "Why are there so many Confederate Vampires?" by Princess Weekes

That really got me thinking what Vampires but they are just part of the Union, like imagine this gal being like, "DId yoU oWn SlAveS?"

And the Vampire just sits there, drinking Cheap Wine mixed with Blood, dude is not even fabulous, not a Twink, a pretty thick guy, he just sits there in sweatpants, messy unkempt hair and a shirt on that he embroidered himself, he says to her, "Why the fuck is that the first thing that came out of your mouth?"

He was just super shocked and pulled out an old Union Flag, much flabbergasted and very hurt, "WERE YOU HOPING I WAS RACIST?"

"Take a Good look at me, do you think I gained wealth, nah you scoundrel I fucking procrastinated!"

"I mean Robert E. Lee was kinda Hot but I AIN'T A FUCKING GRAYBACK"

(He's Texan and he just sided with the Union Army)

[robocop1906]

Ahhhhhh some.of the best times I can never remember 😏

🤫

[closeted-goth]

not now sweetie. mummy's arguing with a republican state delegate and precinct chair from Texas, America™ about that fella posting vacant addresses for people to squat at in Australia, Australia.

[totentnz]

speaking of AUs i got hit with the urge to make a highschool sweethearts au for v and johnny, nothing fundamental changes except that johnny can think about his soulmate while he's rolling around in the mud and v can think about her soulmate while getting caught in a gang war

[witsserviceablesubstitute]

The contradictions in Eddie Diaz have sucked me in, I'll admit. He gives great insightful life and love advice that he takes none of. He's former Texan army with a silver star— an all American hero — but only enlisted to run from his responsibilities. He's a Paramedic who joined Fight Club. A self-sacrificing single father who somehow leads a double life as a high roller. He has to be dragged into any new romance kicking and bitching but once there will pleasantly play house (right up until he does something dramatic to blow it all up). He obviously has commitment issues but has no problem emotionally and legally committing to his best friend. He doesn't believe in religious indoctrination or the supernatural but is very Catholic. He's Latinx and speaks fluent Spanish yet claims to watch Telenovelas for no reason other than to 'practice Spanish'. He's a regular, mentally stable guy. He's the least normal of them all, nor is he anywhere close to mentally stable.

[sleepyconfusedpotato]

⚔️ MWII (2022) Character Ages (as of 2022) ⚔️

I was on a character age brainrot back in January and now It's back because of @angelsarewatching so I'm gonna go ahead and post this on Tumblr. Tell me what you think tho and discussions are open!

🐑 Gen. Shepherd - Around late 50s, Pushing 64. I searched it up and apparently, the mandatory retirement age for all general officers is 62, in some cases 64. But if he got into the recommendation list after Brigadier General (O-7), it's allowed to be more than 62. He's a Lt. Gen, so that's O-9. Also, Glenn Morshower (Shepherd's actor) is 64 so let's go with that.

🧠 Laswell - 47-ish. At MOST 55. (Rya Khilstedt is 52. AMAZING BEAUTIFUL SHOW -STOPPING)

🚁 Nikolai - 45 as well. I would go with 48 though.

🪦 Graves - 40. He gives Texan cowboy energy. I just know he's an old dude and is actually older than the rest of the gang.

🛖 Alejandro and 🦂 Valeria - 37. Maybe 38. I don't know at what age someone could make the rank Colonel 'cause that's quite high up the ladder. (They might as well be older than Price. Shit, they might be 40.)

🚬 Price - 37 (Canon) c. 1985.

🐎Rudy - 36. He's been close with Alejandro for 20 years now. Assuming they're bestest of friends and knew each other even before military, Rudy would be around 36/37 as well.

💀 Ghost - 35 or lower. As far as I know, lieutenants are usually young, unless he enlists first before a few years later he went to the Royal Military Academy Sandhurst (RMAS). OR. His preference and efficiency of working alone are far better for use on the battlefield. The higher you are in the ranks, the more soldiers you are responsible for. So the higher-ups might purposefully don't promote him (and he prefers and agrees to it as well) so that he can continue working alone rather than leading a squad. He surely can lead a team, but he's better at doing shit alone. Crazy theory but hey, it's fiction.

🦿Alex - 35 (Alex was a Delta Force until 2013. Assuming he's around 26 when he finally goes to the CIA, that means he's around 32yo in 2019 and 35yo in 2022)'

🔭 Hadir - 33/34 (Canon) 1986/1987. I’m choosing 34 tho since in the ‘Hometown’ mission he was almost a teenager.

☀️ Farah - 30 (Canon) January 12th 1990.

🧢 Gaz - 26 (Canon). The bio says he enlisted in the British Army in 2014. Assuming Gaz finished high school first, he must’ve enlisted when he was 18yo. That means he was 23yo in MW19 and 26yo in MW22. 

🧼 Soap - 26 (Canon). He’s canonically the youngest one in Task Force 141. The bio mentioned that his cousin is in SAS and he often time visits the base. Setting aside the fact that the cousin brought a fucking kid to a top-secret base, lil’ Johnny must’ve been like “I DON’T WANNA GO TO SCHOOL I WANT TO BE AN SAS SOLDIER” and he canonically LIED about his age. Apparently, he went in when he was 16 but got caught several times, until finally when he was 18 he got in. 

--

That's it folks! Tell me what you think (｡･∀･)ﾉﾞ

[therealslimshakespeare]

Hi! I’m an environmental eng girly myself so I’m sort of very interested in this (and also a new reader so please bear with me if I’m lacking on some knowledge here). The 1950s were just generally a very interesting time for women in stem/ engineering but obviously not great for equality still. For example, since you mentioned that Lu is from Texas, in the 1950s there were roughly 700 engineers working with the Highway Dpt of Texas and only THREE were women. So I’m curious, how does Lu handle/ cope with being in a field that would have her be surrounded entirely by men? She would very likely be the only women in most of her classes and professional endeavours. And I know you mentioned that when she works on that Twisters inspired Tornado project with those military boys, all of them love and adore her which I LOVE! Because she’s so smart and such a genius so it makes my heart really happy to see that that allows her to command respect 🥰 But in college, how does she manage being in a space with all these guys who might not all respect her (god like uni eng guys are a special brand of asshole, I’m not saying all of them but some…). Because I’m being so real- that is still an issue in engineering and still something that my girl friends and I have experienced/ felt 😅 And then also with environmental engineering specifically a lot of the work is sort of… rural and isolated. Like you won’t be working in a big crowded space a lot of the time. And being with all those guys, (also like… again, college guys are just a special brand of asshole? I feel like every girl would be out of her comfort zone if she were to be around only them, even now) is that something that induces anxiety for her? Does she ever worry that “putting herself in that position” is inviting anything similar to the horrific violence she’s already gone through? And then on the fluffier side, HOW does she persevere?! Because again we know she wasn’t doing well? I get the vibes from the asks that she was genuinely very depressed and not at all in a good place. So I’m just so intrigued by this era of hers. Anyways this is sooo long and convoluted feel free to ignore it haha. It’s just something that is so interesting to me I love this woman in stem so much 🥰 But yeah I’m interested in her college days and how she handles her horrible mental health, a very very shitty boyfriend and THIS on top of it all.

Oh and to add, we know that Ida worries for her often (along with the rest of the trinity), is she ever concerned about Lu being in those sorts of situations? Because Ida has so much complex trauma of her own (remember in Hardwoods how she has that thought that being alone with men is courting violence!!!!!!!!!!!) and she had to SEE Lu being assaulted? Just wondering because I love these two. And the rest of the trinity I guess. I know my parents would be🤧

Aaaaah see now you’re educating me about the Texan engineering!!! Omg that’s so cool. I knew it had to be slim pickings but goodness, three? Yeah, wow, ok then Lu, ya got your work cut out for you. Also, Nonnie, you’re so cool, I feel special for you gracing my inbox 🥰

Oh yes, just from acquaintance I am somewhat familiar with the engineer bro vibe, ha. Having come from the army has to help her a little. So far in the story we’ve focused on all the boys who love and take care of the girls as integrated into themselves, but you know there were the assholes in the 100th about it and you KNOW there were absolute pigs in the stalag, too. So it’s not a fully new issue. But, somehow this is even more secluded, likely? So, it’s intense.

I think she’s already very withdrawn during this era so she’s not trying to make friends with them all, if they’re assholes she does her best to keep her head down and then enjoys smoking them at tests or in the field. If they wanna play a practical joke to sabotage her?!- oh well, they shouldn’t have picked on Bucky Egan’s daughter. But omg, for all these women there’s the question of if they’re inviting that violence again by pursuing these careers and that’s so horrible to even be considered but it’s so real!!! My girl has her brass knuckles though, the (pretty worthless social friends from Spencer’s crowd) and a will of iron. This is the field she wants to work in, she always did and she happened to go to kindergarten in war for it but by god she’s gonna keep at it through college.

Also. Not wanting to fail. I think depressed and miserable as she might’ve been, failing (she’s so like Gale lemme go scream) would be worse than anything that could happen to her while she was trying. She’s so dogged about it, and this is something of her own, it’s not her crew and it’s not her squadron, it’s her. She’s doing this, and she might as well not get up again if she fails, I think is her attitude…when she’s so down, ya know?

Ida…for a long time Ida lives in a world where everyone could potentially be awful. She can’t contextualize it well. It takes a massive toll on her mental and bodily health, that constant alertness and suspicion and stress. Being in Germany likely only exacerbates that, tbh. Nice thought Rosie but, she’s having some severe ptsd just living amongst the language every day. 😭

[mediumgayitalian]

prev

———

Will is good at making decisions.

It’s one of the only things he’s good at, actually. He can’t fight. He can’t control water or lightning or plants. He’s not as smart as Athena’s kids or as charming as Aphrodite’s. He is clumsy and soft-hearted and stubborn. But he is observant, he always has been, and he prides himself in his ability to think ahead. He keeps his infirmary stocked and his siblings on schedule. He reigns in head counsellor meetings and draws up binders and binders of files and projects — he is organised. He watches, he notices, he reflects, he prepares. He’s as impulsive as the rest of them, sure, but he has enough contingencies in place that he’s solid. A solid head on his shoulders, and he knows it — the head medic must.

So when he watches himself, horrified, diverge from his very detailed twenty-nine step process entitled The di Angelo Dilemma: Approaching Friendship like a Normal Person and ask Nico to come over, he considers the possibility that he has been possessed. Maybe the eidolons that fucked everything up the first time around have been crouching in dark corners, patiently awaiting the perfect time to strike and ruin Will’s life.

“See you then,” says Nico, rushing out the door, and Will smiles at him easily, watching him dash across the common, and then he sets aside the folder he’s updating, walks calmly out of the empty infirmary, nodding to Mr. D. as he passes, turns a corner in the hallway, slips into his favourite supply closet, sticks a chair under the door handle, clears his throat, and screams.

It’s one of those good screams, by design; he takes a good deep breath beforehand and lets the sound billow out of him, lets it scrape the sides of his throat raw and reverberate somewhere in the base of his skull. Were he not home in a camp that regularly makes use of lethal weaponry and deadly rivalry, entire armies would come running to his defense. As it is, he is left to fall to his knees and scream until he is hoarse, or until he hears a faint will you shut the fuck up! echo from around the vegetable gardens.

“Why me,” he croaks, giving in and collapsing to the floor.

It’s a nice floor, really. In between breakdowns he returns and decorates the place, sweeping up the dust and covering floors and surfaces with rugs and throw pillows. A guitar leans in the far corner for when his mother is thousands of miles away and he’s feeling sorry for himself. A photo album lives half-shoved under a shelf for when he is in need of punishing. His sketchbook remains in a constant state of almost-full under the one dusty window. (That one carries slightly less general despair.)

He is, upon reflection, somewhat of a disastrous person.

How fitting.

“Ugh,” he says out loud, to himself, and reaches for his guitar.

He has no intention of playing anything worthwhile. In fact he doesn’t even bother tuning it, not that he can very well anyway, and just strums random chords and riffs and yells over a string of flat discortants, at one point, filling the tiny room with noise ontop of noise ontop of noise until everything is gleefully stifling, like a mass of birds clouding the sun, like the thirteenth year of swarming cicadas, like the twentieth layer of July Texan heat. Until the mess is transferred from inside of his head to outside of it. Until he has committed so many musical sins that his father retreats from the sky a full forty minutes early.

“I feel you are at fault,” says Kayla, when he finally returns to their cabin. “For.” She gestures vaguely at The Outdoors.

“Hnnngh,” responds Will, taking three steps and tipping, gracelessly, onto Austin’s bunk, nearly bouncing right off of it. He catches himself, barely, and presses hard into the pillow, curling when his brother makes space for him, when his sister sighs, deliberately loud, and presses her knee into his thigh as she climbs up, too.

“This is your own fault,” Kayla grumbles. Her bony shoulders settle along the dips of his ribs, next to Austin’s thin ankles. “You could talk about things before they blow up in your face, but nooooooo. You run around doing everything yourself. Moron.”

Will swipes the heel of his hand under his eyes, throat garbling a weird snort-laugh-sniffle. Those bony shoulders tip to the side, slowly, until she curls under his chin, dragging Austin down with her. “You’re so mean to me.”

“Sh-h,” Austin says, patting blindly until his palm finds Will’s face, then patting deliberately. His knees press against Will’s, now, forehead inches away, barely clinging onto the too-narrow mattress. “Quiet town now. Reflect in your foolishness.”

“So mean.”

Years ago, exactly how many Will refuses to count, this exact scenario would be met by lots and lots of teasing, by pinched cheeks and cuffed shoulders and a forehead kissed several times over. There would be at least six instruments played at once, a camera flash the second he walked in the door pouting, and more lights on that would ever be necessary. An oft-repeated and never-resolved debate, probably; you coddle him, Cass; oh, shut up, Michael, he’s little. The scent of woodgrain and antiseptic and vanilla. A thousand other details he never thought to memorize.

Now there is quiet, or at least more of it.

Kayla hums, notes muffled as she gnaws on her lip, and Austin’s socked feet tap against the blankets, mapping out the tune playing out in his far-away eyes. The last final glow of the horizon turns red, then orange, then violet, sinking into dark navy blue, and their aunt blinks her way into focus, stretching widely across the thin wisping clouds. The fairy lights wrapped around the pillars and ceiling beams blink alongside the stars, chatting away to each other, and the breeze from the window is soft and warm and almost as sweet as southern jasmine. There is a pit in the dead centre of Will’s chest, and he is afraid Kayla will fall into it, and then Austin; afraid they will succumb to his gaping maw.

“What if I ruin absolutely everything,” he says. He swallows, and then again, and again, because his throat is dry, escape for the burning trails mapping the his face from corner of his eye to mouth. “What if I — scare. Am. What if I’m the reason, again.”

Diana snorts. You are such a drama queen.

And that’s coming from this theatre, Lee adds, gesturing grandly to the gold pillars of the cabin. You’ll be fine, kid.

A chorus of agreements from the rest of the occupied bunks; Kate’s encouraging grin, Leanna’s fond hair ruffle as she dances past, Amir’s wink.

Will smiles and blinks back and he is gone, and Michael’s scowl disappears, and Kate and Phoebe’s laughter fades from the background. The cabin is quiet, shadowy; Austin and Kayla breathe quietly, swallow silently.

“I don’t know,” Kayla admits. “You — could be. Again.”

Will squeezes his eyes shut. He begs for Lee to go back to his sleep for the night. He inhales around the shake and inhales and inhales and inhales and feels the vacuum dead centre in his body, like from navel to spin, twisting, tubing, sucking; take, take, take, take. Can I, can I, can I. I want. Please. Let me have.

“I’m not sure it’s better not to try, though.” Austin’s hands curl around Will’s palm. “Right? You always say to — try. Do your best.”

A smile curls up the corner of Will’s mouth.

“I do.”

“And you did try.”

“I did.”

“Did it fail?”

Will flicks down to meet Kayla’s eyes, squinting one and tucking his chin.

“I asked to come over.”

“Oh, well — okay, Marilyn Monroe. Like that’s a new thing.”

“For no reason.”

“…Oh.”

“I could go on the sand rant, Kayla. I’m like a sleeper agent. As soon as he says it, I’ll — you know.”

Austin shifts, frowning thoughtfully. “I mean, he kind of already knows you’re weird.”

“Not this weird!”

“I think everyone knows you’re weird, actually,” Kayla adds. She wiggles, squirming and elbowing until she is half-perched on the fleshy part of Will’s waist, ignoring his wheezing. “Being a nerd dork loser is kind of your whole thing.”

“It is not!”

“You have binders dedicated to people, Will.”

“That’s not bad!”

“Specifically on how to best socialize with them, Will.”

“That’s — thoughtful!”

“…Sometimes being related to you is hard.”

“I am! Collecting data! To better my relationships! What is the issue!”

Austin and Kayla exchange a meaningful look — which does not, Will is relatively certain, usually involve putting your entire palm on your brother’s face and shoving it so it cannot be seen. Kayla.

“You’re doomed to fail,” they decide. And then they kick him off the bed, which is rude, but he is weak to their giggling, and it’s bedtime for them, anyways.

As per his carefully outlined routine they are sent to the showers and sinks, back in half an hour, bickering. As per his less carefully outlined but nonetheless regularly present routine they are separated physically from each other and shoved to seperate bunks. As per his most carefully outlined routine, he follows them each, ignoring their complaints, and presses the back of his hand to each forehead, closing his eyes as he lets his life force bleed into theirs, mixing, checking, making sure.

“We’re fine,” Kayla grumbles.

“Shut up and cough,” Will orders.

Austin gives him less trouble. Will makes a show of thanking him for it. Kayla throws her extra pillow. Will takes it, placing it on his own bed. It is silent after he says goodnight, silent as he clicks off the light, gathers his caddy, pads to the door.

“Goodnight,” whispers a voice, half hidden by the creak of the screen door as he opens it.

“Goodnight,” whispers another, half hidden by the cream of the screen door as he closes it.

“Goodnight,” Will repeats, grinning. “Sleep well, kiddos.”

They grumble, and their bedsprings groan as they turn away, mimicking the grate of the rickety porch steps. That, at least, is familiar; that at least matches the echoes that bounce around the walls of the cabin and the inside of his skull.

———

next

[miley1442111]

bobby tanqueray- b.floyd

a/n: intended for fem or male reader, so imagine what you like:)))))))))

summary: you finally meet your finacés squadron.

pairing: bob floyd x finacé reader

warnings: suggestive language

bobby tanqueray by lake street drive

Bob knew he was quiet. He knew he wasn’t the first person people would choose to make conversation with, especially at a crowded bar. You, on the other hand, were up and singing with Popeye, an old army friend of yours, a song called Bobby Tanqueray. You hadn’t yet noticed him and he was hopeful to keep it that way, he wanted to admire you some more. The way carefree way you went about singing, how well you sang, your pretty lips against the microphone.

“So, who are you seeing?” Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin had sat beside him, a sly grin on his face. 

“W-what?” he stuttered out, shocked at Hangman’s assumption. 

“Well, you’re not getting all those scratch marks on your back by yourself,” Hangman winked. “Come on, tell me! Is it Phoenix?”

“What?! N-no! Nat is my friend, I-I’m not seeing anyone,” He wanted you separate from his friends. He told himself it was because of their shitty teasing, but there truthfully was a part of him that was scared you’d pick someone else over him. He knew you wouldn't but years and years of bullying and insecurity don't just go away.

“Then who scratched you up?” Hangman smirked. Bob had no answer. 

“I was gardening,” It was a shitty lie, he knew it. 

“Gardening, sure,” Hangman clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Well, I’m going to try my luck with the singin’ one, see you in the morning,” Hangman gave him a fake salute and walked off as Bob’s stomach dropped. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From across the bar, you had finally seen your fiancé and you were planning on walking straight up to him when a tall blonde haired asshole got in your way. 

“Can I buy you a drink sweetheart?” He was a Texan, you rolled your eyes, trying to get past him. 

“No thanks,” you fake-smiled, eyes glued to Bob. The Texan grabbed your arm, slowing you down, you flashed him your engagement ring, a silver beauty that Bob had made you. He apologised, nodding you off and letting go of you. You belined it straight to Bob, a goofy smile on your face. You kissed his cheek from behind him and he chuckled. 

“Hey sweetheart,” he smiled and kissed you softly as you sat down. 

“Hey darling,” you smiled. 

“You sounded amazing up there,” he chuckled, pulling you closer to him, your waist meeting his. “Looked amazing too.”

You chuckled, fixing his hair. “You looked pretty good from up there too. So handsome.”

He blushed and you kissed him again, until you were pulled apart by the Texan from earlier and a guy with a moustache. 

“You’re the fiancé?!” The Texan practically shouted. “You’re dating our little ‘Baby on Board’?” 

You frowned at him. “So you’re ‘Bagman’, the asshole, right?”

His smile faltered then smoothed out. “It’s Hangman.”

“Same thing,” you smirked. “And yes, I’m Bob’s fiancé, Y/n.”

“I’m Brad, but most people call me Rooster,” Brad smiled, extending his hand. 

“Nice to meet you both, but I think it’s best we start going,” you turned to Bob, a smirk on your face. “I feel we might be busy for the rest of the night.”

Bob’s face flushed as he ushered you out, ignoring the ‘whoops’ from his squadron. You really were in for it. He glanced over at you in the passenger seat, looking out the window. 

You were perfect.

[aristotels]

ppl in the usa rly dont understand that no matter how different their states may be between each other (and are they really) they are one fucking country. you are a federation. many countries are federations. germany, bosnia, india, russia - they all have states within themselves.

you have one president, one representative in the un, one army, one official language. the nationality of usamerican is usamerican. its written on your passport. there is no texan or ohian nationality. when you move states you dont have to get a visa. you also dont have to take a language test or reapply to the tax register office or translate your papers. why is this so hard to understand

[wildlife4life]

WIP Wednesday

Tagged by the super amazing @cal-daisies-and-briars @daffi-990 @bekkachaos @tizniz @diazsdimples @wikiangela and @theotherbuckley

SURPRISE!!!! In honor of the Kansas City Chiefs winning back to back super bowls, I have posted the first chapter of Three Taps for the Lombardi aka NFL Buck! Woooooo! The biggest and loudest shout out to @hippolotamus who so graciously beta read this, was one of my biggest supporters, and kept my secret! You are so amazing! This fic is my pride and joy and I am so excited to share it! Hope you all enjoy!

Three Taps for the Lombardi

Mature // 3.8K // Chapter 1

Eddie Diaz is the 118's new transfer from Houston and he is a bit of mystery. The team knows a few things about the stoic man. He's was a medic in the army with a silver star, he has a son, a dead ex-wife, is gay, and has long term boyfriend named Buck who he moved to L.A. with. Oh, and Eddie is never on shift when there is a home game for the L.A. Rams. Evan Buckley has been traded to the L.A. Rams from the Houston Texans. He has amazing stats, awards, and been named one of America's most eligible bachelors. All he's missing is a super bowl win and a WAG to cheer for him alongside his sister in the stands. Or at least, that's what he's led the world to believe. Almost ten years ago Paramedic Diaz ran onto the Texas Longhorn's field to help college football star Evan Buckley after he was knocked unconscious. Months later, secrets are made so dreams can come true. Can they keep those secrets intact as Eddie takes on the challenges of being a firefighter in L.A. while Buck battles for the Lombardi with a new team?

Tagging for WIP Wednesday (no pressure): @watchyourbuck @lover-of-mine @spotsandsocks @devirnis @buddierights @try-set-me-on-fire @jesuisici33 @jeeyuns @exhuastedpigeon @aroeddiediaz @giddyupbuck @rainbow-nerdss @loserdiaz @thewolvesof1998 @eddiescowboy @eddiebabygirldiaz @spaceprincessem @athenagranted @evanbegins @elvensorceress @malewifediaz @911onabc @911-on-abc @hoodie-buck @ladydorian05 @bigfootsmom @thekristen999 @spagheddiediaz @rogerzsteven @honestlydarkprincess @doublecheekeddiaz @buck-coded @prosperdemeter2 @lemonzestywrites @gayedmundodiaz @transboybuckley @nmcggg

[planesawesome]

Two U.S. Army Air Forces North American AT-6C-NT Texan trainers in flight, 1943.