#chapter 911

[calekinnieplus]

With the Winner’s eyes, he first saw a layer of thin, emanating grayish-white fog.

Amidst the fog, there was a resplendent door of light that was tainted with bluish-blackness.

The door of light was formed from countless layers of spherical light. Each spherical light enveloped squirming maggots. Some of them were transparent, others translucent. They had complicated and indescribable symbols and patterns that had profound meanings.

Before Klein could discern the actual details, he felt his mind buzz as he lost consciousness.

After an unknown period of time, he slowly woke up.

What the fuck was that. What.

[algumaideia]

Poor girl

Also Ace????? Ace?????

[burnthatbridge]

if you love him let him go (if you love him let him know) 

pre-buddie, bucktommy | T | 3k | angst, pining tommy needs to tell eddie something not on ao3 atm because i can't figure out if this is done or if i'm continuing it - please let me know your thoughts! now on ao3 because i hate not having all my fic in one place

“Can I get you another beer, man?”

Eddie checks his watch. It’s only a little after nine thirty. He’s kind of hoping to get home before Chris goes to sleep, but he’ll not be heading to bed any time soon, will likely stay up later than Eddie. Friday night means he disregards his supposed bedtime — not that he sticks to it that well on school nights, now he’s sixteen. “Sure, thanks.”

Tommy nods, disappears into the kitchen, returns a moment later with a can of IPA in one hand, a bottle of lager in the other. They’ve already finished the six-pack Eddie brought over, but trust Buck — well, Buck and Tommy — to have Eddie’s favorite beer in their fridge. Tommy hands over the can, already cracked open, and Eddie takes a sip as Tommy settles down at the opposite end of the couch. He doesn’t turn to face the TV, sits twisted towards Eddie instead, but he does pick up the remote and turn down the volume, the post-fight commentary rendered nearly unintelligible. 

“I wanted to talk to you about something.”

Eddie twists towards Tommy himself, something not-quite-anxious-but-almost flaring in his chest. Over the years they have been friends, he and Tommy have spoken about lots of things, including those not so easy to discuss: their respective experiences in the army, Tommy’s tough childhood, Eddie’s difficult parents, the hard aspects of the job. But they’ve all been topics that have come up naturally, raised organically. Tommy has never led into anything with such a pointed opener before.

Eddie studies him. He has one knee pulled up on the couch cushion, foot poking out off the end, the other foot planted on the floor, nearly parallel to the base of the couch. One arm is up on the backrest, the other relaxed, beer bottle in that hand, resting on his thigh, dripping condensation painting a charcoal ring on his — probably Buck’s, in fact, given how tight the fabric is stretched over the muscle of his leg — grey sweats. He’s not tense, but he’s not smiling, and there’s something about his expression that Eddie can’t place. It’s not that he hasn’t seen this look before, because he’s pretty sure he has, witnessed it in flickers across numerous occasions over the years, there and then gone, present for but a heartbeat. But he’d never known what it meant any of those times and he certainly doesn’t now.

“'Course,” Eddie says, when Tommy doesn’t go on, seems to be waiting for some kind of sign. Then adds, feeling like it’s necessary given the gravity he can feel pulling this lightsome evening down to something more serious.  “Anything.”

Tommy sighs, bites his lip like he doesn’t want to speak, even though he’s the one who said he wanted to talk, then shakes his head and takes a pull of his beer.

“Is everything okay?” Eddie’s starting to feel worried now. He mentally scans back over the past few weeks, trying to remember if Tommy has mentioned anything about work that could be a problem. He saw him at basketball last week, and nothing had seemed off. Plus, Buck hasn’t said anything. Not that he’d necessarily tell Eddie about an issue Tommy was having, not if Tommy wanted it kept private, but Eddie can usually tell when Buck’s concerned about someone, and he hasn’t picked up on anything, not at all. 

But maybe this isn’t about a problem Tommy is having. Maybe this is a Buck problem, something Buck has kept from Eddie. It would make sense why Tommy would bring it up with him; sometimes a concerted, multi-person effort is the only way to get through to Buck. And Tommy’s more likely to bring in Eddie first, and then expand the team to include Maddie, Chim, more, as needed. 

“Is Buck okay?” Eddie asks, something like panic constricting his throat, making the words come out a little strangled. 

Tommy actually laughs at that, a small, choked thing, an exhale of sound and air. He shakes his head again, but not a no. More like an extension of the laugh, a motion to accompany it, to better convey the disbelief — not humor — contained in it. “He’s fine.”

It’s a relief to hear. Buck had seemed physically okay, when Eddie had seen him briefly before he left the house, since he’d maybe purposefully waited to order his Uber until Buck pulled up in his jeep outside, despite Christopher’s insistence he didn’t need to wait for Buck to arrive, despite the fact that his kid is more than old enough to be left in the house alone for the twenty minutes it would have taken Buck to drive over, while Eddie was ferried the opposite way. But there could still have been something, Buck could have been fighting through pain, much better at hiding any hurt of his body than he is at masking his emotional distress. 

“But,” Tommy says, and that one word is enough to have Eddie’s muscles tightening once more, “It is Evan I wanted to talk about.”

Again, Tommy doesn’t follow it up with anything. Eddie has found, in their time as friends, that Tommy is not often a man lost for words. Quite the opposite, in fact. He usually says what he means, means what he says, and is an expert at listening and delivering sage advice. This reticence– it doesn’t feel like it bodes well, has the hair on the back of Eddie’s neck prickling.

“Alright,” Eddie says, a feeble prompt. “So, Buck?”

Tommy nods, like he’s gearing himself up for something, to face a challenge, to take a punch. Eddie is expecting something bad, so the words he says catch him even more off guard than they would have. “I want to ask Evan to marry me.”

Maybe if Tommy had seemed eager, excited, when he turned to him, Eddie could have anticipated the blow, could have felt a creeping suspicion this is where Tommy was headed, could have been provided with enough of a heads-up to brace himself. As it is, he doesn’t see the hit coming, takes it full force to the chest, so hard it steals his breath, knocks the wind from him. His mouth goes slack, and he feels his fingers slide against the slippery sides of his beer can, almost spills it over Tommy and Buck’s lounge carpet before he gets a hold on it, on himself. He forces himself to smile. “That’s– that’s great,” he makes himself say, only faintly aware that Tommy isn’t smiling back, like this moment should call for. “Did you–” he swallows around the bile climbing his esophagus, “Do you want help planning the proposal?” He wishes he could take the words back the second they’re out. Because this — just hearing that Tommy wants to ask Buck — is torture enough. To be involved with it, to help enable it, Eddie will be lucky if it doesn’t kill him. Maybe not his body, but certainly his soul. 

“No.” Tommy shakes his head. “No, I want to ask him to marry me. But I’m not going to. At least, not now.”

Eddie squints at him. The news that Tommy wants to marry Buck might hurt Eddie, but it’s not exactly surprising. Eddie’s seen how much Tommy cares for him in the years they’ve been together, has seen the way he looks at him, the way they look at each other. Has felt the way it burns him, the scorching heat of flame, the searing cold of ice. He doesn’t understand what Tommy is saying, doesn’t understand why this proclamation seems not to be a happy one. “Why not?” Eddie asks, almost grateful for the opportunity to present confusion, curiosity, rather than forced pleasure at the thought of one of his closest friends and his– best friend marrying each other. “You guys are serious. I mean, you live together.”

Tommy huffs another laugh, still more disbelief than humor, really the opposite of humor. “His lease was up.”

“Right. But he chose not to renew it. He chose to move in with you,” Eddie says, slow, struggling to understand, the pounding of his pulse not helping him think clearly, see through the puzzle that is everything Tommy has said so far and the way he has said it. 

“He was never going to renew it,” Tommy tells him.

And that’s– that’s something Eddie didn’t know. He hates it when he learns information about Buck from Tommy, always has, even though he fights with everything in him not to feel like that. Tommy is Buck’s boyfriend, of course he’s going to know things about him that Eddie doesn’t, know him in a way that Eddie doesn’t. 

“We hadn’t spoken about living together,” Tommy says, eyes on Eddie. “But he’d said he thought the loft was too expensive and he was spending nearly every night at mine by that point. When he wasn’t on shift. Or at yours.” Eddie pulls his eyes away, takes a sip from his beer for something to do, even though the bitter taste is turning his stomach. “He said he wasn’t going to renew it, that he’d look for somewhere new, cheaper. But this was too close to the end of his lease to find a place before he had to move out. I asked where he was going to stay in the meantime.”

“And he said with you,” Eddie guesses, more a statement than a question.

But Tommy shakes his head. A smile curls his lips but his eyes– his eyes don’t match. “He said he’d crash on your couch, actually.”

Eddie takes another mouthful of beer, holds it there, on the back of his tongue. He didn’t know any of this. Buck would, of course, have been more than welcome. Likely why he hadn’t asked in advance, why he planned for it without seeking permission. 

“I said he could stay with me, instead. That he’d be able to sleep in a bed here.” Eddie swallows, the beer somehow thick and cloying in a way that it shouldn’t be. “And then when he started making noises about looking for a new place, I told him he should stay.”

While it’s not how Eddie had, unwillingly, pictured it in his head — Tommy and Buck mutually agreeing that Buck shouldn’t renew his lease, deciding they wanted to live together — it still doesn’t explain what Tommy has said. “And he did stay,” Eddie says. “So, why aren’t– Does Buck not want to get married?” But that can’t be it, that can’t be right. Eddie is certain Buck does want to be married, only he’d tried hard not to think of Buck wanting that with Tommy, with anyone. Anyone else. 

“No, he does,” Tommy confirms it. He leans over and deposits his beer on the coffee table. Then sits back, still turned to Eddie, but arms crossed over his chest, like a protection of himself. “We’ve spoken about it, discussed it. And he’s told me he’s always wanted that, to get married, to be part of a family.” Tommy pops one hand out of the fold of his arms to hold it up, out, quelling, like Eddie has protested. He hasn’t, but his heart is doing something approximating a riot at the idea of Tommy being Buck’s family. “And I know he has a family. He knows he does. In you and Chris, in Maddie and Jee, in the 118. But–” Tommy breaks off, tips his head to the side, gaze boring into Eddie’s face so strong that Eddie wishes he could turn away, duck and run. “You know how much he’s always wanted to belong somewhere.”

He does, Eddie thinks, the thought almost violent in its intensity. He belongs with me. Except, he doesn’t. Not really, not how Eddie wants, not the way he does with Tommy.

“And I want that for him,” Tommy goes on, tucking his hand back in, squeezing his arms tighter about himself. Eddie’s never seen him like this, hunched in on himself, curled small. Tommy is usually so open, larger than life. “I want to be the one to give that to him.”

Eddie wants to be the one to give that to him. Desires it desperately, a secret need he’s tucked as far inside himself as he can. He can feel it now, raging to be let out, to be set free. But he can’t, he won’t. Buck is with Tommy, he’s happy with Tommy. Tommy who is so warm and kind and good, Tommy who is better than Eddie in every conceivable way, who brings so much to Buck’s life, who gives all of himself to Buck. Who wants to give him even more. Wants to, but apparently won’t.

Eddie doesn’t understand. “Then, if you want to, why won’t you ask him?” he questions, trying to. 

“If I ask him now, he’ll say no.” Tommy states it like indisputable fact, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world that Buck would refuse him. 

Eddie shakes his head, understanding even less. “But he loves you.”

Tommy smiles again, then, larger than he had before, but as devoid of happiness, as empty of cheer. This smile hurts to see, reflects the way Eddie felt inside when Tommy had said I want to ask Evan to marry me. “I know he does.” Tommy’s tone is sure, but wistful. “But he loves you more.”

It’s like– It’s like nothing Eddie has ever felt. Or maybe it’s like everything he’s ever felt. The shock of a residual lightning bolt, the joy of being a part of the 118, the pain of a bullet ripping through his shoulder, the awe of holding his son for the first time. Eddie wants Tommy’s words to be true maybe more than he’s ever wanted anything. But he also cannot believe them, has no trust that they are true. Because they can’t be. Buck loves Tommy. Not Eddie. 

“We’re friends. Best friends,” Eddie points out. “Of course, he– he loves me. But not more. Not like he loves you. He’s in love with you.”

Tommy sighs, arms uncrossing, palms coming to rest on his thighs, body taking on a posture Eddie is familiar with, the one he falls into when he’s talking someone through something, the one he adopted when Eddie came out to him some six months ago. “Eddie, he’s in love with you.”

Eddie shakes his head. It’s everything he’s ever wanted to hear, but coming from the wrong lips. Spoken by not by Buck himself but by Buck’s boyfriend, oh god. “He isn’t. Tommy, he can’t be.” 

But Tommy is nodding, nodding like what he’s said is true, like he wants Eddie to believe it. 

“He’s not,” Eddie says, hears the denial, the disbelief spill from him. Buck doesn’t love him. He doesn’t. But Eddie– Eddie loves– “I’m sorry,” Eddie says, almost a gasp. “Tommy, I’m sorry, I–”

“It’s not your fault,” Tommy cuts him off. “I knew what I was getting into. When I started seeing Evan, I knew there were going to be three people in this relationship. I just–” Tommy sighs again, scrubs his palms along his thighs. “I didn’t expect it to get this far. I thought we’d just be a fun, easy thing. Something to ease Evan into his sexuality, that new part of himself. I didn’t expect it to go like this. I didn’t expect to feel like this.” Tommy closes his eyes, lashes falling to his cheeks. He breaths in and out, while Eddie’s own breath is caught in his chest. When Tommy opens his eyes, he says, “But I don’t have to tell you how easy it is to love him.”

Fuck. Tommy knows. Because Eddie does. He loves Buck, loves him so endlessly he doesn’t know where the feeling starts and where it ends. Doesn’t know when it started; doesn’t think it will ever end. “I’m sorry,” Eddie whispers, needing to say the words again, needing Tommy — his friend — to hear them. 

Tommy lifts one palm from his thigh, his wrist pressing into the muscle as he cuts his fingers to the side in a dismissal. “Don’t apologize for it. I’m certainly not going to. I’m never going to be sorry for loving him.” He drops his hand back down, pats his leg, emphasis of the point. “But it is a problem.” He smiles, rueful. “I thought I’d be able to break up with him, if he didn’t break up with me. I should have, ages ago. I certainly should have when you came out.” 

Eddie, selfishly, had hoped Buck would break up with Tommy then. But it had seemed like a farfetched fantasy. He had told Buck he was queer after Buck had already moved in with Tommy. He’d admitted it to himself, to Frank, before that, but hadn’t told anyone else for weeks. In hindsight, sometimes he figures he’d left it too late, but most of the time he didn’t think it would have made a difference at all. But now, with what Tommy has told him, maybe it would have. It’s a knife sliding between Eddie’s ribs to think maybe. Maybe.

“But I didn’t.” Tommy looks resigned, shoulders drooping. 

“Why are you telling me this?” Eddie needs to know. It seems like Tommy has known for years that Eddie has loved Buck. Loves Buck. I knew there were going to be three people in this relationship. So why is he only bringing it up now?

“Because I didn’t. Because I can’t. I can’t break up with him. But I want to move forward. And I want to do so with him, for us to further our life together. But if I ask him to marry me when he doesn’t know for sure that you’re not an option, he’ll say no.”

Fear freezes Eddie’s insides. “So, what– what are you asking me to do?” Because Tommy is asking something of Eddie, wants something. Something Eddie fears he will have to make himself give.

Tommy straightens up, shoulders rolling back. He’s serious, solemn but not demanding or pleading when he says it. A devastating request. “I’m asking you, as my friend, to let him go.”

Eddie could be sick, he thinks, could vomit up the three and a quarter beers and the half a dozen chicken wings he’s consumed since he got to Tommy and Buck’s place. Could spill the mess of his insides up all over himself, all over Tommy, all over their lives. Tommy is his friend, was his friend before he was ever Buck’s boyfriend. Eddie should do this thing for him. Should give Buck his blessing to marry Tommy, give Buck up, give him over, completely, to this man who has loved him so well for the past three years. Eddie should; in his gut he knows it would be the right thing to do. But his heart– his heart is in revolt. It’s Buck. He loves him. How can he ever let him go?

Tommy leans forward, places a hand on Eddie’s leg, squeezes his fingers around the ball of his kneecap, until Eddie lifts his gaze and meets his eyes. “Or,” he says, somehow even more serious, “I am telling you, as your friend, to go and get him.”

[iinryer]

richie: was it the clown?

buck: Was It The What

—

richie and buck chilling together for ⁦‪DEADTlME‬⁩ on twitter! i added some casual conversation for the two of them 😂

this is a prompt fill with the @911actions gotcha for gaza—WHICH IS IN ITS FINAL WEEK!! check out how you can donate to a good cause and request some cool creations before it’s over!

[sibylsleaves]

you're almost home (i've been waiting for you to come in)

11k | rated M | chapters 2/5 | read on ao3  “You’re really starting over, then,” Eddie says. “That’s what I wanted,” Buck replies. “Clean slate, you know?” “Well, you’re welcome to stay here as long as you need,” Eddie says, knocking his shoulder against Buck’s. “That should go without saying.” When Buck had hastily packed his bag and slipped out the door to his Jeep, he hadn’t really known where he was heading for the night. He thought about going to Maddie’s place, or even Albert’s new apartment, but in the end he’d driven himself here—to Eddie’s. Buck moves in. Eddie comes out. Things get a little messy.

“So,” Eddie says, handing Buck a beer. “You told Taylor to stay at the loft as long as she wants because you feel bad? Last time we talked you said you were pissed at her.”

“I am,” Buck agrees, taking the beer gratefully. He’s camped out on Eddie’s couch, a duffel bag full of his clothes on the floor, some kind of cooking competition show playing quietly on the TV in front of them. “But I still feel bad. I mean, she screwed up, but I also screwed up by asking her to move in. She had to break her lease, which was only financially doable because she thought she’d be splitting rent with me for the foreseeable future. If she gets a new place now she’ll have to pay first and last month’s rent, which also isn’t cheap. And it’s not like reporters make a lot of money.”

“True,” Eddie concedes. “Still. You didn’t have to give her your apartment.”

“Yeah, but…” Buck trails off, not sure he really knows how to put the rest of it into words. How Taylor had accused Buck of trapping her at the loft, but the more he thought about staying in that cavernous space after she left, the more it felt like he’d actually trapped himself there. “It’s mostly filled with her stuff now anyway. I got rid of a lot when she moved in.”

That’s probably some kind of metaphor for their whole relationship.

“You’re really starting over, then,” Eddie says.

“That’s what I wanted,” Buck replies. “Clean slate, you know?”

“Well, you’re welcome to stay here as long as you need,” Eddie says, knocking his shoulder against Buck’s. “That should go without saying.”

When Buck had hastily packed his bag and slipped out the door to his Jeep, he hadn’t really known where he was heading for the night. He thought about going to Maddie’s place, or even Albert’s new apartment, but in the end he’d driven himself here—to Eddie’s.

“Chris is going to be so excited when he sees you here in the morning,” Eddie says. “He’s probably not gonna want to go to school.”

“I can take him,” Buck says at once.

“You sure?”

“‘Course,” Buck replies easily. “That way me and Chris can get some extra hang out time in before school, and you’ll be free to run by the station with those transfer papers sitting on the kitchen table.”

Eddie freezes. Then he huffs out a laugh. “You saw those, huh?”

(keep reading on ao3)

[thatbuddie]

los angeles wasn't built in a day

buck/eddie | 36k (so far) | 3/5 chapters | rated m | post-season five, getting together, fake dating (in a sense)

“We’re not going to pretend to be divorced just so Chris can get into a summer camp, Buck,” Eddie says, trying to sound convincing even as he starts to feel his resolution crumbling inside of him. “Why not?” Buck asks, sounding genuinely baffled, like he can’t understand Eddie’s refusal at all. And how does Eddie begin to explain the irrationality of his rational denial? He can’t tell Buck the real reason he can’t go through with it. He can’t tell him without having to reach into his chest, clawing out his heart, setting it down at Buck’s feet still beating, and saying, “Because the only thing worse than loving you knowing I can’t have you would be having to pretend like I didn’t love you enough to keep you with me forever.” (or the fake ex husbands to fake husbands to husbands fic.)

chapter one: summer was coming and change was, too (10.3k)

chapter two: look at me now, i'm falling at your feet (15.8k)

chapter three: even in nature, timing is everything (10.6k)

chapter four

chapter five

(read on ao3.)

[faramirsonofgondor]

My favorite MLM ships right now

[kneazle]

Tommy didn't think much of it as he rushed into the hospital's emergency room barely out of his flight suit, having just hit the locker room at the end of his shift when he got the call. A nurse calling to inform him that his son was being treated after a fall. Hearing your son didn't register until he was at the desk asking about Chris– his brain automatically knew who the nurse was talking about when he heard the words.

He was fidgeting standing there waiting as the man behind the desk looked up where Chris was. Tommy knew he only got called because Eddie and Evan weren't around, having volunteered to help out a few cities over with a massive fire while Chris stayed over at a friends until his dad came back, but there were other people he could have called—any of the 118, or Carla for example—but Chris told them to call him and told the nurse Tommy was his dad.

Tommy's head was spinning.

He and Evan were together for a year now and Tommy's spent time with Chris at least once a week for the past few months and he knew he was liked, that Chris supported his relationship with his second dad and jokingly called Tommy his step-dad once, but this? Tommy had to blink back tears when he finally was directed to the right area. For years he longed to belong somewhere, secretly wanting a family but never saying a word not thinking it would ever happen for him– now thanks to Evan and in extension Eddie he had genuine friends, the 118 welcoming him back in as if he never left, and his heart filled with joy anytime he was welcomed into the Han or Diaz's homes like he was a part of them.

"Chris!" Tommy let out a sigh of relief when he saw the teenager sitting on the gurney down the hall, the doctor looked to be finishing up giving Chris fucking stitches on his arm as a woman Tommy vaguely recognized as his best friends mom, having met her only twice– once at Chris's birthday party and then another time when Tommy had to pick him up from school.

"I'm okay!" Was the first thing out of his mouth, the doctor took a step away as Tommy moved to sit beside him, grabbing his arm to inspect it and noticing the scraps before his eyes drifted to the cut open jeans that were dirty and slightly bloody.

"What happened?" Tommy asked, gaze going between Chris and the mom– Diana he thinks.

"We were at a ice cream place by the beach and there were these big rocks piled all over the boys wanted to explore and Chris said he could handle it and he's better at knowing what he can handle then I could possibly–" Diana rambled on in one breath, looking anxious as if she expected Tommy to yell at her or give a lecture. But he knew that would be Eddie's call if he wanted to, Tommy's priority was to make sure Chris was okay.

"Other than the stitches it's just scraps and bruises," Chris told him.

Tommy breathed out and wrapped an arm around Chris, kissing the side of his head in a move he'd seen Evan do before. Usually it wasn't something Chris welcomed much anymore he was told, but the teenager leaned into Tommy instead of pulling away. Strings pulled at his heart at the warm weight against his side.

When they settled in at his and Evan's house–that used to be his and was now equipped for Chris should he need it and a bedroom just for him—Tommy finally asked. Chris sitting in one of the kitchen chairs with him on the floor, first aid kit beside him as he cleaned the cuts on his knees. Chris didn't want to be in the hospital anymore than he had to and asked if Tommy could clean them at home. It didn't escape his knowledge that this house was considered home to him too.

"Hey Chris?" Tommy asked softly, only continuing when he looked at him. "Why did you tell them I was your dad? You could have said I was an uncle or something instead."

Chris smiled and put his hand on Tommy's shoulder, "Dad didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?" Tommy said carefully, blinking up at Chris, taking his eyes off the scrap he just put a band-aid on.

"Dad put in my file that if he and Buck aren't available, you would be the next person to contact, as my other dad."

He said it so nonchalantly that it almost flew over Tommy's head. He froze and swallowed to push down the lump growing in his throat. He blinked to starve off his watering eyes. "You–"

"You and Buck aren't going anywhere," Chris shrugged. "You care for me like Buck does, dad and I love you just as we love Buck."

Tommy felt his resolve break in that moment as years of feelings and yearning shoved so far back came to the surface—and healed at Chris's words—neither of them said a word to anyone about it as the two hugged and tears fell.

Two days later when Buck and Eddie came back, the Diaz men opting to stay the night, Tommy pulled Eddie into a crushing hug that had the other man grunt before returning it. All three men and teenager made makeshift beds in the living room like they've done a few times for movie nights. Tommy found himself tucked against Evan's chest, one arm curled around holding him while the other rubbed circles along his back as if to soothe the mountain of emotions he'd been feeling– Tommy felt so much love for this man. It was obvious to him by his actions that Evan knew without Tommy having to say a word about his feelings.

Waking up in the morning Tommy was still against Evan's chest, but there was a weight that wasn't there when he fell asleep. Eddie who was beside him had turned around at some point, his arm thrown over Tommy with his hand resting over Evan's hip, Eddie's front against his back with his face buried between Tommy's neck and shoulder. He could smell food coming from the kitchen, the pre-made breakfast burritos being heated up it smelt like, which meant Chris was already up– and getting breakfast ready for all three of his dad's Tommy thought with a smile.

He let his eyes drift close for a few more minutes not wanting to move from the warmth and comfort surrounding him. Tommy curled more into Evan's chest and Eddie made a grumbling groan from behind him at the movement, pushing himself closer until Tommy was completely between the two. Amusement began to sink in at the thought of what they must look like, thankfully none of the 118—especially Howie—weren't here to take a picture or make fun. But Tommy– he didn't care if it was weird to anyone outside this house. For the first time in his life Tommy felt completely and utterly loved, by the two men holding him as they slept and the teenager who solidified Tommy's place as family by calling him dad.

[firewasabeast]

Uncle Eddie (part 4)

Each part of this series can be read individually. If you'd like to start at the beginning, here you go. You can read this installment here or on ao3.

Originally, Juniper had been staying with Maddie. Tommy and Buck needed a couple nights away, and Maddie loved any excuse to have girl time with Jee and Junie.

Then, on the way back home, Tommy came down with a stomach bug. A stomach bug that came with a fever, severe nausea, and vomiting.

So, Juniper stayed another night with Maddie.

And the next day, Buck was just as miserable with the same bug.

So, Juniper stayed another night.

The problem was that Maddie and Chimney had planned a getaway of their own, while Jee stayed with the Lee's.

That's how Juniper ended up at Eddie's place.

It was his own idea. Buck had asked him if he'd pick her up from Maddie's and drop her off. Neither he nor Tommy could risk being away from the bathroom for too long. That's when Eddie suggested he stay with her for a couple nights.

“You know she's gonna get whatever you guys have if she comes home,” he said to Buck on the phone. “And you know she never pukes into the toilet.”

“Oh God, I know, it's always projectile.”

“Couple nights, you guys will be good as new, and Juniper will stay vomit free.”

It wasn't difficult to convince them. They took turns speaking to Juniper over Facetime, and she informed them she she was fine and, “Super-duper-party-pooper excited to stay with Uncle Eddie!”

Apparently that was a good thing.

At least, that's what Buck told him before he had to leave and go throw up again.

*****

Two days later, Eddie got the text that neither of them had a fever anymore, the vomiting had stopped, and their appetites were back to normal. It was already evening, and Eddie knew they'd have laundry and house cleaning to catch up on, so he offered to keep Juniper one more night and he'd bring her home in the morning.

“That okay with you?” Eddie asked Juniper once he'd cleared it with her dads.

She responded by sticking her thumbs up and jumping up and down while shouting, “That's super-duper-party-pooper perfect!”

He'd been hearing that phrase for days now and, while internally it drove him absolutely insane, outwardly he smiled and said, “Great!”

She continued jumping for a few more seconds, then stopped abruptly and gasped.

Eddie startled. “What? What's wrong?”

“Oh, we need to make Daddy and Papa cookies!”

Eddie took a breath, settling back on the couch. “You scared me, kid.”

“I'm serious, Uncle Eddie. So, very, very serious. Daddy always makes me, um, the, um the peanut butter chocolate chip cookies after I was sick. We all love them.” She folded her hands together and brought them to her chest, “Please, Uncle Eddie, please, please, please-”

“Okay! Okay, that's- that'll be fine. We'll have to go get the stuff though.”

She started moving her arms and legs mechanically, becoming a robot as she headed off, “Get-ting rea-dy for gro-cery store to make coo-kies for Pa-pa and Da-ddy.”

That lasted until she got about halfway down the hall, then she was skipping the rest of the way to grab her shoes out of the bedroom and bring them back to the living room to put on.

As she was doing this, Eddie grabbed up his phone and sent a text to Tommy.

I need Buck's peanut butter chocolate chip recipe asap. Also, if a certain 4'1 minion ever asks, I never sent this text.

It only took him a few seconds to get a reply.

Ha! Gotcha! I know Evan has a copy in his recipe box. Give me a sec and I'll send it.

Eddie got his wallet and keys while Juniper finished tying her shoes.

“Go use the bathroom before we go,” he instructed, waving her off down the hall.

“But I don't need-”

“Go use the bathroom before we go.”

“Ugh!” Juniper rolled her eyes ever so dramatically as she marched off to the bathroom. Just as she closed the door, Eddie received the recipe from Tommy.

Thank you! He texted back. Also, this conversation can no longer exist.

Deleting now. Good luck! She's tougher than a drill sergeant when it comes to following a recipe.

Oh, so exactly like Buck. Good to know!

I would argue worse, but she definitely gets it from him. Like I said, good luck.

Eddie took in a deep, cleansing breath, readying himself for whatever he was about to get into.

*****

Eddie would have to remember to give all the leftover baking stuff to Buck once they were done. He found it absolutely ridiculous he had to buy entire containers of baking soda and baking powder when all he'd need was a teaspoon.

“Why do we even need both anyway?” he asked Juniper as he set out all the ingredients. “They can't be that important.”

She shot him a death glare. “Every ingredient is im- important when baking.”

He held his hands up in surrender.

So it begins.

“Okay, oven is preheating.” He stared at his phone, studying the recipe. “Apparently we mix the dry ingredients in one bowl and then the wet in another bowl, then combine them.”

“How'd you get my daddy's recipe on your phone?” Juniper asked, heading to the sink to wash her hands.

“Oh, um, your dad gave it to me a long time ago. I was gonna try to make them but I didn't.”

It was a weak lie, but she was seven- well, seven and three quarters if you asked her- so the lie didn't need to be all that great.

After she finished washing her hands, Juniper sat at the table and clapped her hands together. “Let's. Get. Started!”

The mixing of the dry ingredients went well. Juniper, tongue poking out between her teeth, measured out the flour perfectly, along with the baking soda, powder, and salt.

It was when they got to the wet ingredients that things began to fall apart.

There were so many instructions that seemed to need to be done all at once. The butter needed melted, then vigorously stirred with the peanut butter until it was combined. Eggs needed cracked, and one yolk needed separated from the white. You had to make sure the butter was melty and warm enough to cream with the peanut butter but not so hot that it made the eggs scramble. And maybe this wouldn't have been a problem for literally anyone else, but Eddie was not a baker, had never been a baker, and had no desire to be a baker.

So it was a problem.

It didn't help that Juniper was every bit as bad as Tommy warned.

“You don't do it like that.”

“You have to mix slower.”

“That's not how you se- separate the yolk.”

“The butter isn't melty enough.”

“I think the butter is too melty.”

“Oh, this is not looking great,” Juniper shook her head. “Daddy always smushes the brown sugar to make more sugar fit. You need to smush.”

“I'm smushing,” Eddie replied, wiping the back of his hand over his forehead.

My God, he was sweating! He wondered how he ever got to the point in his life where baking was a strenuous task.

“And I- I know we have to do two teaspoons of the vanilla,” she said, picking up the six dollar bottle of pure vanilla extract that they had to get because the two dollar bottle of imitation vanilla was met with a gag by Juniper. “Not three teaspoons. That's too much.”

“Okay, okay.” He grabbed the teaspoon and poured the first one in. On the second teaspoon, his hand shook slightly and half the bottle spilled onto the table.

“Shi- Shoot!” he exclaimed, grabbing up paper towels to wipe the mess.

Juniper grimaced. “Yikes. Daddy says a messy kitchen is not a happy kitchen.”

“You should tell him to follow that rule in the kitchen at work,” Eddie mumbled, tossing the paper towels into the trash.

She scratched at her nose, transferring the flour that was on her hands. “He says that's or- org- organized chaos.”

“I'm sure he does. You can read right?”

She sighed. “Of course I can.”

“Read how many chocolate chips we need.”

She leaned over the table to get a look at the recipe. “Two cups,” she said, letting out a, “Uh-oh,” as she sat back down.

“Uh-oh? What's uh-” he stopped when he looked over and saw her holding her hair, a grimace on her face as the wet ingredients dripped down her curls. “What happened?”

“My hair went in the- the mixture!”

Suddenly, she was on the verge of tears. Her face scrunched up in a mix of panic and sadness. "We cannot let these cookies be musty-dusty-crusty, Uncle Eddie. I- I will just die!”

Eddie made a mental note to tell Tommy that while she may get her need to follow a recipe from Buck, she most definitely got his flair for the dramatic.

“I promise you these cookies will not be musty, dusty, or crusty, Chewy,” he reassured her. He grabbed a towel and wet it in the sink, then lifted her out of the chair and sat her on his lap. “Your dads are gonna love them.”

She rubbed at her eyes, wiping the tears before they could fall. “Are you sure?” she sniffed.

“I'm positive.” He took his time making sure her hair was free of the peanut butter mixture before patting her leg to get her to hop up. “Okay, ready to get back at it?”

“Do we need to start over?”

He lifted the bowl of wet ingredients, searching around for any sight of hair. “Uh, no. Nope, we're fine.”

She eyed him questioningly. “We can't have it messed up.”

“One again, it will not be messed up. Start putting the dry in with the wet, slowly.”

He took another peek at the recipe, then quickly closed out of it before she could read the part that said 'let dough sit for 24 hours'. There were some thing's she simply did not need to know.

“So you and your dad make these a lot, huh?”

“Mostly after I've been sick,” she replied. “He mixes the ingredients though and I help scoop the dough. Papa says it's, um, it's because I- I go mad with power.” She looked up at Eddie. “I do not know what that means.”

Eddie put on a smile. “It means the next time your papa and I do Muay Thai, I'm gonna kick his butt.”

By some miracle, they got the cookie dough finished, scooped out, and put in the oven.

Then Juniper went to play on her tablet while Eddie spent the next fifteen minutes cleaning up the disaster that was his kitchen.

Once the cookies had come out of the oven and cooled, they each tried one. Eddie was a bit on edge, worried about finding a hair somewhere, but luckily he did not.

“These are great, Chewy!” Eddie exclaimed, exaggerating a bit with his bite. They weren't bad, not bad at all, but they were definitely not on Buck's level. He was certain of that.

Juniper nodded, melted chocolate covering her lips. “Mmm,” she hummed, shoving another bite into her mouth. “Yum, yum!”

*****

When Eddie dropped her off the next day, both Buck and Tommy met her at the door.

Buck picked her up first, squeezing her tight. “I missed you, Junie!” he exclaimed as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Missed you, Daddy!”

She reached out for Tommy next and he took her out of Buck's arms. “I think you grew, Miss Juniper,” he said, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “At least a foot.”

She rolled her eyes. “No, Papa, I would need new clothes.” She paused, then her eyes widened at the thought. “Can we get me new clothes?!”

“Oh dear.”

They all stepped inside, and Eddie placed all of Juniper's things in the corner near the entryway, except for one container he kept in his hands.

“Thank you so much for keeping her, Eddie,” Tommy said, Juniper still snuggled up in his arms.

“Yes, thank you,” Buck echoed. “You wanna come in for a bit?”

Eddie shook his head. “Nah, I gotta go, but Junie, do you want to give this to your dads before leave?” He held out the container and she gasped, wiggling out of Tommy's arms.

She grabbed the container and handed it to Buck. “This is for both of you,” she said, “for being sick.”

They feigned surprise well, excitedly telling her how delicious they looked and how they'd have to go share them together at the table.

“Let's go get the milk poured,” Tommy said, taking her hand and leading her toward the kitchen. “Thanks again, Eddie.”

“No problem. See ya, Chewy!”

“Bye, Uncle Eddie!”

“So,” Buck started once Juniper was out of earshot, “you baked with Juniper?” There was a smirk on his face that Eddie could only meet with a glare. “How'd that go?”

“Oh, you know, something I can add to my list of things I'll never do again.”

Buck laughed. “Tommy tried cooking with us one time and he, uh, he left halfway through mumbling something about war flashbacks. She's okay with me if we're cooking, but baking is... that's something else.”

“Yes, I'm aware now.” Eddie reached for the door, but stopped and leaned in close to Buck. “Also, if you happen to get a hair, no you didn't.”

“Oh... Um, o- okay? Do I wanna know?”

“Nope. Later, Buck.”

“See ya, Eddie.”

“Did you have fun with Uncle Eddie?” Eddie heard Tommy ask as headed out the door.

“It was super-duper-party-”

Eddie closed the door behind him before he could hear the rest of the sentence. Sometimes, the best part of being an uncle was the ability to walk away.

[hunybody]

CHAPTER 3 OF PRESUMED DEADDIE FIC IS HERE. COME READ CHAPTER 3 OF PRESUMED DEADDIE!!!!

[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

[burnthatbridge]

far from my care and keeping

buddie (side buck/tommy, mentioned eddie/marisol) | T | 3k | angst, pining, one-sided feelings realization Buck's in hospital, but that's nothing new. What is new is the extra person in the waiting room. That, and Eddie's understanding of his own heart.

Another day, another visit to the hospital.

They should be used to this by now: sitting in the sterile space off the main hallway, waiting, waiting, waiting. It should feel routine, ordinary, typical with how often they find themselves in the situation. But Eddie doesn’t think it’s ever going to feel that way when it’s one of them behind the doors fighting for their life, the rest sitting anxious on the other side. He wishes the universe would stop adding instances, would cease trying to make it, force it to be, normal.

It’s the usual crew; they’re practically all there: Eddie, Bobby, Hen, Ravi, Maddie, Athena. Chim had taken Jee-Yun from Maddie and left with her about an hour after Maddie arrived — it’s getting late, past Jee’s bedtime. And Karen is at home with the baby and Denny. Eddie is lucky Marisol was supposed to be coming over for dinner anyway, that she offered to get Chris and stay with him till Eddie could leave. Athena showed up at the end of her shift with coffee and donuts for everyone, caffeine and sugar to keep them going.

Eddie’s cup is sitting cold on the table, his donut already split between Chim and Ravi when he shook his head in a refusal of it. He’d struggle to eat or drink anything in his condition, plus the knot in his stomach is too large for anything else to fit. It’d come back up, and he’s afraid of what else might spill from him with it.

It’s the usual crew. Plus–

“Hey,” Tommy’s voice sounds. Eddie looks up to him crossing the floor towards them, not at a run, but not far off. “What happened? How’s he doing?” he asks, directed at Eddie, as his eyes sweep over him, take in the state of him.

“He’s– It was–” Eddie tries, but his mouth is dry and the lump in his stomach extends to his throat too, blocking it, making him choke on the words.

Hen, sitting in the chair next to him, takes over. “He’s in surgery.”

read more on ao3

[lazybakerart]

“Say cheese.” Chimney says behind his phone, taking a photo of Buck and the treat-happy Maine Coon named Roger Buck’s managed to wrestle into being rescued. Roger nearly takes Buck’s ear and does swipe a clean three cuts across his cheek—but he got old Roger, even if the price was his own face. Buck does not say cheese.  Roger does meow.

Summary: “This,” Chimney says, holding out a large, particularly boring-looking plain envelope, “Is your birthday present.”

Mr. July | AO3 | W: 11.8k | CH: 2/3 | R: E

[sibylsleaves]

you're almost home (i've been waiting for you to come in)

18k | rated M | chapters 3/5 | read on ao3  “You’re really starting over, then,” Eddie says. “That’s what I wanted,” Buck replies. “Clean slate, you know?” “Well, you’re welcome to stay here as long as you need,” Eddie says, knocking his shoulder against Buck’s. “That should go without saying.” When Buck had hastily packed his bag and slipped out the door to his Jeep, he hadn’t really known where he was heading for the night. He thought about going to Maddie’s place, or even Albert’s new apartment, but in the end he’d driven himself here—to Eddie’s. Buck moves in. Eddie comes out. Things get a little messy.

start from the beginning

read chapter 3

JULY

“Let’s start heading down so we get a good spot.”

There’s still a half inning left, but the Dodgers’ victory is a foregone conclusion at this point. There are already tons of people milling on the stairways, streaming out from the rows of plastic seats. It’s a little difficult for Chris to navigate the tight walkways and steep stairs, so Buck keeps his hand on his shoulder to steady him as they move through the crowd.

Eddie trails after them, picnic blanket tucked under one arm.

By the time the make it down to the field, the game is over and the gates are unlocked. Fans pour onto the field. Chris finds a good spot, and Buck unfolds the picnic blanket, spreading it out on the grass. His gaze drifts over the other groups clustered around them, mostly young couples and families.

He settles on the blanket next to Eddie, and realizes that’s what they must look like. A family.

He sinks into the fantasy of it. He looks down at where Eddie’s hand rests on the picnic blanket, and he wants to take it. Wants to lean his head against Eddie’s shoulder and watch the sky light up with sparks.

Ever since the morning he woke up in Eddie’s bed, Buck’s been doing a lot of thinking. He’s thought long and hard about what he’s going to do about these feelings, and he’s come to a decision: he’s going to do nothing.

Everything is so good right now—Chris and Eddie and the 118. And Buck. He feels like he can breathe again, like maybe the ground has stopped shifting beneath him and he can finally find his footing again.

The firework show starts, to applause from the whole stadium. Buck grins, looking automatically over at Eddie.

Eddie’s already looking back at him, his gaze dark and steady. When their eyes meet, Eddie smiles, and then tilts his head toward Chris, who is looking up at the fireworks with unbridled delight. The little glance is an invitation—look at this kid, Eddie’s gaze says. Look how happy he is.

Buck knows he’s unspeakably lucky to get to be part of moments like this. To be the person Eddie invites into them.

Bruce Springsteen blasts through the stadium speakers and the sky lights up with showers of sparks and Buck doesn’t need more than this. Just a place here beside Eddie and Chris. He can keep his feelings tucked neatly away if it means he gets to have this.

(keep reading on ao3)

[thatbuddie]

los angeles wasn't built in a day

buck/eddie | 36k (total so far) | 10.6k (this chapter) | 3/5 chapters | rated m | post-season five, getting together, fake dating (in a sense)

chapter 3: even in nature, timing is everything

“Do you think me and Buck would ever get divorced?” It’s also not a surprise how ridiculous the question sounds when finally pronounced out-loud, and yet Eddie still blushes in embarrassment as soon as he’s done asking it.  “Forget about it,” he says, shaking his head and tightening his grip on the handle of the tea mug he’s holding.  Looking at him from the top of her glasses, Hen sets the study cards she was reviewing down on the kitchen table before raising her head to look at him fully as she interlocks her hands in front of her. Her gaze is assessing, but it doesn’t feel judgmental at all. Still, Eddie fidgets on his seat under the weight of it.  “Eddie, you can’t ask me that question and then expect me to just forget about it,” Hen says, deepening her voice on the last three words like she’s imitating his voice. “Do I… Do I think you and Buck would ever get divorced? Well, I would say that the fact that you guys aren’t even married makes it a little difficult for both of you to jump straight to divorce.” 

read this chapter on ao3 // read the full story on ao3

[maddiebuckettebuckley]

first two chapters of my buck loses his mind and proposes to tommy and ultimately leaves him at the altar fic are posted :)

buck buckley you are sooooo bonkers but it’s okay we’re getting you out. you too eddie.