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jaybird1306 · 2 months ago

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Last month, England and Wales took the first step towards legalising assisted dying (a separate bill is under consideration in Scotland, while Northern Ireland is described as “left behind” on the issue). After a five hour debate in Parliament, MPs voted by 330 to 275 in favour of the The Terminally Ill Adults (End of Life) Bill. As it stands, the bill would allow terminally ill adults with an expected six months left to live to end their own lives. They would have to make two separate declarations, signed by either themselves or a proxy (who can be someone who has known them for two years or someone of “good standing” in the community), and their eligibility would have to be confirmed by two doctors and a High Court judge.

The vote to approve this bill is being presented by supporters of the right to assisted death as a victory for dignity, compassion and bodily autonomy. The ultimate in the right to choose. And on these bases you might assume that I am one of those people. After all, I do believe in bodily autonomy. I hope it goes without saying that I believe in dignity and compassion in death as in life. And, of course, I believe fervently in the right to choose what happens to your own body.

But rather than these beliefs leading me to support this bill, they are in fact the reason that I have my doubts. Let me explain.

Like most good liberals, when I historically thought at all about assisted dying I considered myself to be in favour of it — although admittedly without having thought through any of the details. There is no doubt whatsoever that current end of life care leaves far too many people suffering a painful and undignified end. There is also no doubt that some people, out of fear of such an end, have ended their lives earlier than they might otherwise have chosen to, while they still had the ability to travel to Dignitas in Switzerland. Family members have faced the choice of letting their loved one travel and die alone in a foreign country, or to go with them and face the risk of prosecution on their return. None of this is humane. And legalising assisted dying seems like an obvious way to address these issues. That, in any case, was what I historically thought.

But a few years ago, doubts were introduced in my mind when I was a judge on the Royal Society of Literature’s Christopher Bland Prize. One of the books submitted to us was a memoir by Alastair Santhouse, a consultant neuropsychiatrist at The Maudsley Hospital in London. The book, Head First: A Psychiatrist’s Stories of Mind and Body, didn’t make the shortlist in the end, but it did make a lasting impact on me, most notably on my opinion of assisted dying.

Santhouse opens his section on the topic by recounting his first experience of a practice he was later to discover was so common it had a name: “granny dumping.” That is, the depositing of an unwanted elderly relative (the name suggests usually a female relative — we’ll come back to this) at a hospital over Christmas. The elderly woman in question here was brought in by her son and daughter-in-law who told Santhouse, “She just isn't right,” before leaving and turning off their phones. On her own, the woman, now in tears, told Santhouse there was nothing wrong with her. “They just don’t want me over Christmas.”

This episode may shock you as it did me. The thought of doing such a thing to my own mother causes me physical pain in my stomach and a lump in my throat. I simply cannot bear it. But, says Santhouse, the medical profession quickly disabused him of his “notions of people always behaving honourably or having respect for the elderly.” And it is his decades of experience, his repeated witnessing of this lack of honour and respect for older people, that makes him so implacably opposed to assisted dying.

While some may have taken a calm and rational choice to end their lives, there are an unquantifiable number of people who may be pressured or coerced into doing so. […] As they approach the end of their lives, people feeling unwell and scared can experience a pressure, spoken or implied, to let their families collect the inheritance that they would otherwise not get if they had to pay for medical or nursing home fees. They may also feel a pressure to release their families from the burden of caring for them. Vulnerable, frightened patients may only feel loved, accepted and valued by their families if they take the decision to end their lives by assisted suicide. — Santhouse (2021) pp. 206-7

As my parents have aged I too have witnessed some of this lack of honour and respect for older people in action. For example the time an impatient male carer made my strong, capable, fiercely independent mother cry when she was, in the immediate aftermath of a hip operation, feeling none of those things. I have also seen how quickly someone who is strong, capable and fiercely independent can suddenly become scared, uncertain and vulnerable when they lose their independence, even if, as with my mother, it was only temporary. It is far from unbelievable that someone in this state could be quite easily coerced into agreeing to end their own life. Rather, it is frighteningly believable. Indeed I personally know of at least one case where someone felt pressured (to my knowledge never overtly vocalised, but as Santhouse points out, this pressure does not need to be spoken to be felt) into arranging their own death, before at the last minute changing their mind. How many others have simply gone through with it?

Well, according to a recent report on assisted dying, “mercy killings” and failed suicide pacts, that is a question for which we do not have an answer and nor are we likely to get one any time soon. Written by the think-tank “The Other Half, the “Safeguarding women in assisted dying” report notes the “secrecy” that is “built into the latest assisted dying proposals in the UK.”

This is also true of countries thought to be exemplars like Oregon and the Australian states. In Oregon, death certificates do not include a note of assisted dying. All provider information on assisted deaths is deleted after the annual report is prepared. This simple data report does not, and would not, reveal the kind of abuses we fear here. In Canada, there are stories now emerging of families who have tried to prevent their relative being given MAID [medical assistance in dying] —as they believe they are not terminally ill. Families cannot get access to medical records to understand if their relative was coerced. The state protects itself and those who are involved in delivering death. — The Other Half (2024)

The abuse the authors of this report in particular fear is state-delivered domestic homicide — and not without good reason. Although the UK inexplicably only started including over 75s in domestic abuse statistics in 2020, we know that elder abuse is far from uncommon. We also know that women live more years than men in ill health, and that having a disability doubles a woman’s risk of being domestically abused. The law in England and Wales has also recently recognised suicide as an outcome of domestic abuse (indeed, data suggests it may be more common even than homicide) and has outlawed the “rough sex defence” through which men who killed their sexual partner via strangulation achieved leniency in prosecution and sentencing.

We cannot claim therefore to be ignorant of the clear vulnerabilities women face, nor of capacity of violent men to exploit the law to justify their abuse. And yet despite this knowledge, the potential for these laws to be used in the furtherance of violence against women has been shamefully absent from the assisted dying debate.

And not just here in Britain. The report highlights that most countries that have legalised assisted dying don’t even consider domestic abuse in their safeguards (which are mostly concerned with will beneficiaries), let alone collect or publish any data on the issue. Meanwhile, assisted dying campaigners in the UK have championed two male mercy killers with a history of domestic violence, one of whom had previously been imprisoned for bludgeoning his second wife with a mallet.

The result of this data gap on domestic abuse and assisted dying is that it’s hard to quantify exactly how widespread the problem is. We do have some indications, however. We know that in Canada, women “seem 2 times more likely to seek MAID track 2—which allows for those with non ‘reasonably foreseeable’ deaths to die” — that is, women who are not terminally ill. We know in Belgium that women dominate the figures of those given “psychiatric euthanasia.” Why are these psychologically troubled women so much more likely to seek death than their male counterparts? The data is silent on this issue, and the states in question seem in no hurry to uncover the reason behind the sex discrepancy.

In the Bill as it currently stands in England and Wales, assisted death for the mentally unwell would not be an immediate issue, since the law would apply only to terminally ill patients — but the example of countries that have gone before us shows how easily and quickly the concept of “terminal illness” can be and has been stretched.

…it is estimated that now 3 per cent of Belgian and Dutch assisted deaths are for psychiatric disorder. Psychiatric illness is not usually terminal and suicidal impulses are often part of the illness itself. To have a state-sanctioned way for such people to end their lives should be a cause of concern for everyone.

One study showed that 50 per cent of Dutch psychiatric patients asking to die had a personality disorder* (a very unstable diagnosis with symptoms sensitive to social pressures), a figure similar to that in Belgium. Twenty per cent had never been hospitalized because of mental health problems (which calls into question how severe they are) and, in 56 per cent of cases, loneliness and social isolation was thought to be an important factor. This in turn raises the question as to whether assisted suicide is being used instead of proper social and mental health care. Perhaps the most troubling statistic in the study was that in 12 per cent of cases in the Netherlands, the three assessors had not agreed unanimously on the decision, and yet the assisted death went ahead anyway. — Santhouse (2021) p. 209

This final statistic is echoed in a finding from The Other Half report, which notes that in Western Australia, guidance states that “feeling a burden” is meant to be a red flag for assessors determining a patient’s eligibility. But despite “more than a third of those approved reporting they felt a burden, Western Australian medics decided that everyone who applied for VAD was eligible in acting voluntarily and not being subject to coercion in 2023-24.” Which, to say the least, stretches credulity; as the authors of the report put it: “It is startling that despite the prevalence of domestic and elder abuse in Australia, the assisted dying safeguards for these picked up absolutely no one at all.”

Well, quite.

Santhouse also raises concerns about safeguarding, noting that “as the experienced expert who would be asked to undertake [safeguarding] assessments,” their presence is “no reassurance whatsoever.” It is, he writes, “extremely difficult to truly know someone's motives, including the motives in someone asking for assisted dying. This is particularly the case where the individual concerned is frightened, vulnerable or wants to please others, and do what they believe others want them to do.”

Source: The Other Half (2024)

[Image description: an excerpt from The Other Half, "The 2006 killing of Mandy Horne in Shetland was widely reported as a Romeo and Juliet, mercy killing by her husband - Mandy had MS. Both died so there was no investigation. Only through Mandy's father and a curious Times journalist was it later revealed to be a very violent murder and suicide by Mandy's husband: he's also killed their pets. The night before she died, Mandy had asked friends to stay because she was scared of her husband."]

But despite the failure of states that have legalised assisted dying to collect data on its intersection with domestic violence, we are not entirely without pertinent evidence. By combing through “news reporting, inquest findings, sentencing remarks and court of appeal judgements where killings and attempted killings were said by a judge, coroner or defence to be part of a mercy killing, or (failed) suicide pact,” The Other Half report authors have identified and reviewed more than 100 “mercy killings” and “failed suicide pacts” — and they make for sobering reading.

The Other Half’s research revealed that “at least 5 UK men per year violently kill women who are disabled, elderly or infirm, under the guise of mercy killings.” Eighty-eight per cent of the killers were male, overwhelmingly husbands and sons, and the killings were extremely violent, involving “cutting women’s throats, bludgeoning them, shooting them, or using stabbing, suffocation and strangulation.” One woman was thrown off a balcony by her son. Another was strangled with her dressing-gown cord by her husband. Many women had their throat slit. “Overkill,” the authors found, was frequent. Meanwhile, men are “overwhelmingly the survivors of ‘failed suicide pacts’.”

Having my throat slit, or being strangled with my dressing gown cord, or being thrown off a balcony does not sound particularly merciful to me, and whether or not you wish to die, it is hard to imagine anyone choosing to die in such a violent manner. But the vast majority of these women did not ever express a wish to die at all, let alone to die violently. 78% of them were not even terminally ill, being simply “disabled or elderly and infirm.” The report identified an increase in a woman’s care needs as a trigger for a mercy killing.

The majority of these men were let off with suspended sentences and sympathy from judges who repeatedly spoke of the “exceptional” nature of these strikingly similar cases (the report found that the few women who engage in “mercy killing” generally get a life sentence), with “very limited data, if any, data [being] collected by the state on these deaths, and no learning or curiosity.” One man let off with a suspended sentence had written the joint suicide note himself with no input from his wife; another had a history of domestic violence against his dead wife. And, let’s not forget, these lenient sentences all took place in a context where assisted dying is illegal. It’s also worth pointing out that this analysis would not have been possible if these mercy killings had taken place under the auspices of the new bill, because none of the information would be publicly available.

Source: The Other Half (2024)

[Image description: excerpt from The Other Half, The judicial safeguard: even criminal court judges are not able to spot patterns in so called mercy killings. Selected judicial remarks to mercy and failed suicide pact killers. "This is indeed an exceptional case" - Scotland husband smothered wife who'd returned home from hospital. "A tragedy for you...exceptional in the experiences of this court. You were under immense emotional pressure...you acted out of love." - Husband wrote his wife's suicide note then cut her throat. Suspended sentence. "I conclude the mental torment engendered by the impossible situation in which you found yourself must have been intolerable." - Husband strangled wife after she had broken her vertebrae and had been unable to look after him. Suspended sentence. "[The judge] decided to suspend the sentence due to the 'exceptional' circumstances" - Father helped his daughter take an overdose then suffocated her. She had been receiving (poor) inpatient mental health care in hospital. Suspended sentence. "It was, in part, an act which you believed to be one of mercy." - Husband knocked his wife out with a dumbbell then slit her throat. She had dementia. Suspended sentence. "the defendant was not coping with the strain of being the principle carer...I accept at the time he did believe he was doing what he believed to be an act of mercy." - Husband smothered wife with clingfilm. She had Parkinsons and had recently has a fall. Suspended sentence. "the case was exceptional and jail would not be appropriate" -Husband gave his wife an overdose of antidepressants and suffocated her in a plastic bag. "I accept in killing your wife you were doing so because you felt this was the only way to limit or prevent her suffering." - Husband pushed his wife down the stairs and then strangled her. She had dementia. Suspended sentence. "The taking of a life is always a grave crime, but the exceptional circumstances of this case require the court to show compassion." - Husband cut his wife's throat after her dementia worsened. Suspended sentence. "indeed true love...an exceptional case" - Husband attempted to bludgeon his wife to death with a hammer. Suspended sentence. "a most unusual and very sad case" - Husband struck his wife with an iron pole, then smothered her as she sat in bed. Suspended sentence. "You were convinced that she was suffering and it was more than you could bear." - Son threw his mother off a balcony as she was receiving end of life care. Suspended sentence.]

But what about all the people who are not coerced, you may be thinking at this point. Don’t they have a right to bodily autonomy? Don’t they have the right to choose?

To this I have two points, the first of which is that rights in a democracy must be balanced and the right of one person to willingly choose to end his life must be weighed against the right of another person to choose to continue with hers. Nothing about the debate so far, nor the bill in question, makes me at all confident that this balance has even been considered, much less achieved. As Sarah Ditum noted in her excellent piece in The Times, published shortly before the vote took place:

But for legislation that relies on the principle of informed consent, there seems to be a strange haste to get it on the books without fully investigating its implications. The full text of the bill was published last Tuesday; MPs will vote on its second reading less than two weeks from today. This is not ideal, particularly when the issue is as consequential, ethically and practically, as medically administered death.[…] Before taking a neutral stance on a bill, the government should scrutinise it, including producing an impact assessment and a legal issues memorandum. These are supposed to be made available one month before the second reading, but as they don’t currently exist and the second reading is less than a month away anyway, that isn’t going to happen. — Ditum (2024)

Beyond this lack of proper scrutiny is the question of whether the state of care for those living with illness, whether terminal or not, gives people a meaningful choice to make. Certainly, the Health Secretary Wes Streeting doesn’t think it does, leading to his voting against the bill. Neither, apparently, does the Voluntary Assisted Dying (VAD) programme in Australia, if the pamphlet cited by The Other Half is anything to go by, featuring as it does this family quote: “The voluntary assisted dying process was really the first time that any medical and allied health practitioners had given such understanding and empathy to my sister's suffering, and that was such a relief.”

And, sure, you could read this as approbation of the VAD programme. Or you could read it as an indictment on the care system.

For his part, Santhouse says his experience is that when people are asking to die, “they are commonly communicating something different.”

They are asking for help to live. They are saying that they can't see how they can cope with the problems that they have, and are asking for help in finding a way through the seemingly impossible difficulties that lie ahead. To take their request at face value, and to whisk them over to the nearest assisted dying clinic, is to abrogate our responsibilities to the patient. — Santhouse (2024), p.210

If people are not making a free choice, if people are choosing death not because they want to die but because we have failed so abjectly to make living bearable for those who need care, what does that say about us as a society?

Similarly, as the Other Half notes in its examination of female suicidality in response to domestic violence, it “is impossible not to imagine a scenario that a woman in abusive situations would find it easier to access NHS assisted dying than support to create new life away from her abuser.” Certainly, assisting her death would be cheaper, a concern which was also raised by Santhouse, who fears that legalising assisted dying would make it “far easier to give up on people once the going gets tough.”

Advocates for assisted dying often rebut concerns about the morality or ethics of assisted dying by pointing to the strong public support that their position holds. And it’s true: my opinion is, as they say, unpopular: a poll conducted by Opinium earlier this year on behalf of pressure group Dignity in Dying found that 75% of the British public supports assisted dying.

But how many of the British public really understand the implications of how this works in practice? How many of them are thinking about the violence of the mercy killings we are asked to sympathise with, or the ease with which vulnerable people can be coerced into unwillingly ending their own lives? I ask, because when you poll British people who are more likely to have a good grasp of how assisted dying might work out in reality, the support drops rather precipitously.

A recent survey by the British Medical Association found that 50% of doctors were in favour of the legalisation of assisted dying, which is already a substantial drop from the position of the general public. The difference was even more pronounced when considering only palliative care doctors, that is, the doctors who are most likely to have direct experience of the realities for the patients involved (how good care can change their attitude to life; how vulnerable to coercion patients might be). Among these doctors, 76% were against a change in the law — almost the exact inverse of the opinion of the general public.

Where we go from here is unclear. The Terminally Ill Adults (End of Life) Bill is now at the committee stage, where it will hopefully receive some of the scrutiny that has to date been sorely lacking —although given parliamentary timetabling restrictions this is by no means guaranteed. In the meantime, social and palliative care continues to be underfunded and under-resourced. And some men will continue to violently kill some women, and the state will continue to allow most of them to get away with it.

In a weird coincidence, shortly after I wrote this piece a friend of mine told me about the Christmas care package that had been sent by Age UK to her mother and aunt:

[Image description: A collection of gifts that includes slippers, a blanket, shortbread biscuits, a box of Celebrations chocolates, other unidentifiable edible or wearable treats.]

Age UK apparently sends these packages out to people on benefits with age-related health problems, and it’s such a brilliantly practical and caring idea I was inspired to set up a monthly donation to the charity.

Here’s why you should too: ageing is a feminist issue. Older women are poorer (thanks to the pay and pensions gap) and more frail and in poorer health (thanks to the health data and treatment gap) than older men. They are also more likely, thanks to sex differences in unpaid care (see Invisible Women for stats on this), to have spent their life taking care of other people. So, this Christmas, instead of “granny dumping,” let’s return the favour and make sure older women are taken care of themselves as they have taken care of all of us.

The link to donate again is here.

#disablility #feminism #invisible women #right to die laws #assisted dying #trigger warning #violence against women #violence against disabled women #domestic abuse

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wynnyfryd · 1 year ago

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Trailer Park Steve AU part 4

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

September

He doesn’t talk to the Munsons much. (Doesn’t talk to anyone, really, aside from his mom and Robin and that one older woman who keeps renting and returning Gone With The Wind as an excuse to leave her house.) He keeps his head down and his nose clean, doesn’t care to make friends with the neighbors; just wants to get by.

One day Eddie approaches their door, waving a gas bill that got mixed up in their mail, and Steve greets him pleasantly enough.

“Stab anyone today?”

“Eat glass, Harrington.”

So it goes.

Steve watches the world pass and the weather turn, lets the hours bleed into weeks and squeezes his eyes shut against the flashbacks when they threaten to overwhelm.

Things with his mom are weird.

They don’t really speak, preferring to shrug their way past each other with careful, tight-lipped nods, and his mom takes these pills the doctor gave her that keep her perfectly pleasant and calm. Silent. Physically present but not really here.

And he can’t imagine how it feels to be her: Florence Harrington, ripped from the comforts of the upper crust and left to rot in a tin can seven miles across town. She spends most of her time letting out weary little sighs as she swans from room to room, drifting like a shade on the banks of the River Styx. (He can make that reference now because Robin won’t shut up about mythology. “It’s so gay, Steve. The Greeks were literally so gay.”)

Anyway.

Shit’s weird with the kids, too. He still drives them around — lets them loiter at Family Video when it’s slow; hangs around when they need a ride to the arcade or the movies or the skating rink; and he’s still on the hook for ‘ice cream. for. life,’ so…

It’s just not the same.

Like. Not to be dramatic, but who the fuck is Steve Harrington without the house and the pool and the free-for-all fridge? Just some kid with a car and a bat and a punchable face. And he can barely afford to keep the car now, anyway, so pretty soon they won’t need him for that, either. They’ll learn to drive; they’ll get their own jobs. Maybe Lucas builds enough muscle to take over as the party tank.

Maybe it’s better if he shelfs himself now before they realize he’s become obsolete.

“Oh, my god, you’re being pathetic,” he groans to himself. His voice is muffled where he’s lying face down on the couch. Ridiculous behavior, because everything is fine; Steve is fine. In the grand scheme of things where there are monsters and melted corpses and all kinds of crazy, horrible shit?

Yeah.

He’s being obnoxious. It’s a lovely sunny Saturday afternoon with just the right Autumn breeze going — gentle but cool; long sleeve polo weather; his favorite kind — and he’s sitting inside throwing himself a pity party.

Fucking absurd.

…Five more minutes.

Just five more minutes, then he’s getting off this couch.

He gets to a minute and a half when he hears the crunch of tires against the gravel, the clanging of a little bell from the handlebar of a bike, and then:

“STEVE!!!”

And that’ll be Dustin, trying to bang the door off the hinges and piss off the whole park at the same time. Kid’s nothing if not a multitasker. Steve lets another aggrieved groan loose into the couch cushion.

His mom’s out with the car; the lights are all off. Maybe he can just play dead ‘til Dustin leaves? He loves the kid, he really does, but his left ear is full of static, and he just wants to fucking sleep. Or sulk. Or both.

“STEVEN CHRISTOPHER, I KNOW YOU’RE IN THERE.”

Jeeeeesus Christ. “Okay, chill,” Steve grumbles as he hauls himself upright and throws open the front door. His limbs feel like lead; there’s drool on his chin. “Wake the whole goddamn neighborhood, why don’t you?”

“It’s two in the afternoon.”

“Yeah, and half the people here work nights.”

“Oh-kayy,” Dustin drags out the word, “but you don’t.”

Ugh. Whatever. He’s not gonna be shamed by a toothless teenager for his depressing loser tendencies. “Did you need something?”

Steve scratches at his belly hair through his shirt, feels a muscle twinge in his shoulder and send a spark of nerve pain skittering up to the base of his skull.

Dustin either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care that Steve’s body is falling apart where he stands, because he just rolls his eyes and says, “Uh, yeah. I need to know why you’re avoiding everyone? Mom’s tried to invite you to dinner six times now.”

“I was working.”

“All six times?” Dustin glares. Steve feels a little pinned by it, feels guilt seeping through the cracks as he fidgets with his bad ear. This kid’s gonna be the scariest lawyer some day. “She’s worried.”

Goddammit.

Guilt squeezes hard behind his ribs; he knows Dustin uses his mom as a mouthpiece for the feelings he can’t express. “I’m fine,” he sighs, letting his eyes and voice go soft. “Honest.”

Dustin holds firm, gaze fierce and fists clenched. “Bullshit,” he insists.

“Man, don’t—”

“Bull. Shit.”

Suddenly, their impromptu interrogation gets interrupted by a crashing drum fill, a shriek of electric guitar as Munson’s van squeals into the lot. He’s blasting some melodramatic metal shit about wizards or whatever; Steve doesn’t know. He only knows that the skitter of nerve pain he felt is ramping up to a fullblown migraine now because this guy has to listen to his racket at full fucking volume, apparently, and isn’t this all just “fucking great.”

—

part 5

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #trailer park steve au #steve can have a little depression as a treat #robin buckley #dustin henderson #claudia henderson #my writing #my fic

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rikichie · 10 months ago

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Just don't ask me how that huge plush was thrown there

Under the cut, things I imagine in YOI pre-canon, with the ways my thoughts tie into canon to explain why I think them. These are personal headcanons and interpretations.

With Viktor, I imagine his family being high achieving, and Viktor having a lot of expectations on him. And he matches then successfully. But this means his parents think he's doing well, even in moments where emotionally he isn't. They look at achievements rather than looking at him. It's not intentional neglect, they just don't have the awareness of mental wellbeing. He has a bed and food and he's doing well in school and skating, so everything must be okay. It's fine when he's fine, it's lonely when he's not. And it's the first environment that teaches him to match himself to what's expected and wanted of him, fulfilling a role rather than just being.

When he's older, he quietly creates distance. Not cutting them off, but not reaching out. They don't mind. They follow news, and they can show off his success.

When he's young, Viktor loves having fans and being known and admired. Af first he doesn't see downsides to it. And then something happens, as simple as "did you see him throwing the flower at Christophe Giacometti? He was flirting, how cute" - and Viktor realizes his fans will draw their own conclusions and won't believe him if he tries to say they're wrong.

So he starts adjusting his approach. Building a persona, and building walls. Charming smiles that get him anything he wants. Practicing the skill of giving people what they expect. Being what they expect. And then flipping it on its head and surprising them.

If you're focusing on matching and subverting expectations, you're not necessarily being yourself. Any personal exploration of identity is hidden and alone. But on the ice, when he's performing, he can be honest. He can be seen. Because they're going to take it as fake. Think of how Minako reacted to Stammi Vicino - Viktor's earnest plea for someone to stay by his side, well, he's too charming for this to tug at the heartstrings. So he can play with stories that he won't share with anyone any other way, and he knows they'll take it as pretend.. The walls he builds don't allow him to be truly close to people. He has good relationships with other skaters, but emotionally keeps them at arm's length. He doesn't notice he's isolating. Chris and he have fun joke-flirting, but when Viktor steps away from the ice Chris doesn't seem to realize he needs this, isn't close enough to know what he's struggling with. He talks like Viktor is taking away the motivation he's entitled to by choosing to coach Yuuri. His rinkmates see him on good and bad days so they know when he struggles, and Yakov is the only person close to knowing him deeply, but even he doesn't take it seriously when Viktor burns out, so that is still limited.

For Yuri, I think his mother was going through a lot to let his grandfather take care of him. He has a lot of responsibility in that setting, and it all starts when he's so young.

I think, with Viktor being present in his life consistently from such a young age, Viktor is one of the people he sees as family. He absolutely looks up to him, just like he absolutely looks up to Yuuri. And I think he resents the emotional distance Viktor maintains.

He's not very attentive to people in general, but he's the one that explains to us how Viktor feels early in the show. When Viktor left to Japan so suddenly, I think Yura felt abandoned beyond just Viktor forgetting to choreograph a program for him. If it was just the program - he did end up getting Agape, he could have just asked for that, but he tried to get Viktor to go back. I feel like he hates that Viktor went to look for a way to get his spark back somewhere else, instead of staying and finding a way out of his slump with his rinkmates. If what Viktor needs is to coach someone, why isn't Yuri good enough? He's a talented skater and he sees himself as continuing Viktor's legacy, but Viktor chose someone else for that role.

And Viktor did choose Yuuri to continue his legacy. Because Yuuri skates so beautifully, because Yuuri has so much love for Viktor's skating, because Yuuri has drive and ambition and pride and skill and he finds joy in skating, and Viktor wants to nurture all of that into the performance Yuuri deserves to show.

And along the way, he learns how to connect with people as himself. His relationships with Yuuri and Yuuri's family open doors for him to better and deeper relationships with Yuri and Chris and anyone else he wants to be close to.

About Yuuri, there's very little I can say because we know so much. So I'll just share a lighthearted headcanon a few friends and I came up with as a story idea and I just adopted.

I don't share the fanon that Phichit got him into pole dancing. In my mind, he either started himself, or it was Chris - unintentionally. I think they're friends, because of how Yuuri reacted to him in the show, like he's used to him. And I like to think Chris kept saying things that made Yuuri feel competitive. Talking about how it's great for core strength, "but it's probably not your thing." Sent pictures of himself performing difficult moves, and got pictures back because Yuuri was trying to match him or do more difficult things than him. And meanwhile Chris thinks they're showing off to each other for fun. It's how Chris knew Yuuri can keep up with him at the banquet.

I still want to write something for that last bit.

#yoi #yuri on ice #yoi fanart #yuri!!! on ice #victuuri #viktuuri

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hjvi · 1 month ago

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𝘾𝙧𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙔𝙤𝙪

Pairing: Chris Sturniolo x Fem!Reader

Summary: Intimacy, intimacy, intimacy.

Warnings: Smut. MDNI. Kissing, touching, fingering. Inexperienced and slightly innocent reader. Loss of virginity.

You’re sitting on the worn, overstuffed couch in Christopher’s basement, the dim light of a single lamp casting a golden glow over the room. The faint hum of his laptop sits in the background, but your focus is entirely on him. Christopher—your Christopher—is pacing, talking a mile a minute, hands flying in every direction as he tells you about some ridiculous idea for a YouTube video. To anyone else, he’d be this loud, fast-talking ball of energy, hard to follow and even harder to keep up with. But to you, he’s everything.

Ever since you were kids, you’ve known a side of Chris that no one else sees. To everyone else, he was the annoying kid who couldn’t sit still, who blurted out answers in class without raising his hand, and who was always two steps ahead of himself. But you—you saw the quiet moments. The times when he’d focus so intently on a drawing or a thought, his blue eyes narrowing in concentration, the world fading around him. You saw the way he’d bite his lip when he was nervous or how his hands fidgeted when he was trying to keep his energy under control. To you, he wasn’t just loud or impatient—he was a puzzle, intricate and endlessly fascinating. And for some reason, you were the only person who seemed to want to figure him out.

The two of you grew up in the same neighborhood, your houses just a few blocks apart. Your earliest memory of Chris is of him at a birthday party when you were six. He’d been the kid running around with cake smeared on his face, laughing so hard he could barely breathe. But later that same day, you’d found him sitting under the dining table, quietly drawing pictures of dinosaurs on the napkins. He’d looked up when you crawled under to join him and smiled, wide and genuine. “You like dinosaurs too?” he’d asked, his tone curious, his smile so warm it felt like sunshine. From that moment, it was like you’d known each other forever.

As the years passed, your friendship deepened. Chris was the only friend you ever needed. He was loud, sure, but he always made space for you. No matter how chaotic his energy was, he’d stop everything to listen when you needed to talk. It amazed you how someone so full of life could also be so present, so deeply invested in you. He’d lean back in his chair, hands still for once, his blue eyes locked on yours. “You’re seriously the only person who gets me,” he’d say, and you’d believe him.

When you were ten, the two of you made a promise. It was one of those silly, half-serious pacts kids make late at night when the world feels a little too big. You were sitting on his bed, the glow-in-the-dark stars on his ceiling casting faint shadows. “If we don’t have anyone else by the time we’re, like, old—I dunno, twenty-five or something—we’ll just get married, okay?” he’d said, his tone light but his eyes sincere. You’d laughed and agreed, pinky-promising under the covers.

You never told anyone about that promise, but it stayed with you. Maybe because deep down, you’d always known there was something different about the way you felt about Chris. You’d always loved him, in one way or another. But it wasn’t until recently that you realized he loved you too—not just as a friend, but as something more.

It happened one night a few weeks ago. The two of you were sitting on the hood of his car, parked at the edge of an empty lot. The sky was clear, stars scattered across the black canvas above you. Chris was quieter than usual, his leg bouncing as he stared out into the night.

“Hey,” he’d said suddenly, turning to look at you. “Can I tell you something?”

“Of course,” you’d replied, your voice soft.

He’d hesitated, his usual confidence faltering. Then he’d smiled, small and shy. “I think I’ve been in love with you since, like, forever. You’re the best part of my life, you know that?”

Your heart had stopped, then started again, pounding so hard you were sure he could hear it. You’d felt your cheeks heat up, and for a moment, all you could do was nod.

Since then, everything had shifted. You and Chris were still you, still the same two kids who had grown up together, but now there was something more. You’d found yourself leaning into it, letting yourself be vulnerable in a way you never had before.

But there were still parts of you that held back. Chris had always been so sure of himself, so full of life, while you had always been a little more reserved. You loved the way he looked at you, like you were the only person in the world, but sometimes you couldn’t help but feel self-conscious. You’d always been thin, your body a mix of sharp angles and soft curves, and while Chris never seemed to notice the things you picked apart about yourself, the insecurity lingered.

The evening in Christopher’s basement feels like every other moment you’ve spent with him, but there’s a new charge in the air, one you can’t ignore. The two of you are on the worn couch again, the soft hum of the paused movie barely audible in the background. His arm rests along the back of the couch, his fingers brushing the ends of your hair. It’s a small touch, one that sends warmth rushing through you.

Chris leans closer, and his voice is softer than usual. “You okay?” he asks, those piercing blue eyes of his locking on yours.

You nod, smiling at the way his concern seems to melt into relief almost instantly. He tilts his head, his messy hair falling into his face just a bit. “Good,” he says, his lips twitching into that familiar, crooked smile that’s always made your heart stutter.

His hand brushes your hair from your face, and for a moment, it feels like the world has slowed. He moves in closer, his lips hovering just inches from yours. The tension is palpable, hanging between you two, thick like a storm that’s about to break. The quiet pulse of your heartbeat fills your ears

You don’t remember who moved first, but suddenly his lips are on yours. It’s gentle at first, an exploration, a shared breath as if testing the waters. But as his lips press against yours again, firmer this time, something shifts. His hands slip behind your neck, pulling you in closer, tilting your head as his mouth moves against yours with more urgency. You respond in kind, your fingers finding the soft curls at the nape of his neck, tugging him closer still. His lips part slightly, and you follow suit, the kiss deepening as your breath quickens.

You kiss him back, feeling the heat of him spread through you. The world fades, and it’s just the two of you, the taste of him on your lips, the soft slide of his mouth against yours. You lean in, deepening the kiss.

His hand slips from your neck, trailing slowly down your body, fingertips brushing the edge of your shirt, and then—deliberate—he slides his hand beneath the fabric. His touch sends a shiver down your spine, his fingers warm against the bare skin of your waist. You feel him hesitate for just a split second, his touch lingering there, waiting for permission.

He pulls back for a moment, his breath hot against your lips. His eyes are locked on yours, searching for something, maybe reassurance, maybe a signal to continue. You can see the longing in his gaze, but there’s something else there too—a tenderness that cuts through the heat of the moment.

“Is this okay?” he whispers, his voice low and raspy, as if he’s afraid of pushing you too far, too fast.

You nod, your throat tight, but even in the dim light, you feel exposed—vulnerable in a way you’ve never been before. “Yeah… just… just slow down a little,” you say, the words coming out in a breathy whisper. You reach up, your fingers trailing down his chest, feeling the heat of his skin through his shirt.

He nods, his fingers trailing down your arm before they find your shirt. With a sudden surge of confidence, he starts unbuttoning it, his fingers careful but sure. You can feel every movement, every inch of fabric that loosens, as if the small space between you and him is collapsing with each passing second.

As the fabric falls open, his fingers trace the curve of your collarbone, the heat of his touch spreading through you like wildfire. You shiver beneath his hand, but instead of moving away, he closes the distance again, kissing you harder, deeper, as though he can’t stop himself, as though the world outside the two of you has ceased to exist.

His lips leave yours, trailing down to your neck, and you gasp, feeling the soft press of his mouth against your skin. His hands move, carefully but insistently, exploring, learning the shape of you. You feel exposed, vulnerable—but with Chris, it’s different. It’s safe. He’s not rushing, not forcing anything; he’s savoring every inch of you.

You pull him back up to kiss him again, your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him into you with a hunger that surprises you. He groans softly, pressing his body against yours, the heat of him intoxicating. Your hearts beat in sync now, and everything else—the noise, the world outside, the insecurities—fades into the background.

His lips move to your neck, kissing the soft skin just below your ear, and you shiver, your breath catching in your throat. He pauses again, his lips lingering there as if savoring the taste of your skin. His hands are now at the hem of your shirt, sliding it upwards, slowly exposing more of your bare skin.

You don’t stop him immediately. Instead, you close your eyes, letting yourself drown in the sensation. But when his fingers move lower, his touch now bold and unhesitant, you freeze. His fingers find the clasp of your bra, the small piece of fabric that is the last barrier between you and the vulnerability you’re feeling in this moment.

It’s not that you don’t want him, not that you don’t trust him. But something inside you shifts, a rush of uncertainty flooding you all at once. You swallow hard, the intensity of the situation pulling you back to earth. You place your hand gently on his chest, stopping him just as his fingers brush the clasp.

“Chris… wait,” you murmur, your voice shaky.

He pulls back immediately, his eyes wide with concern, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes. His brow furrows in concern, and his voice is low and steady when he speaks. “I’m sorry… I—I didn’t mean to—”

You shake your head, your fingers pressing lightly against his chest, grounding yourself. “No, it’s not that… it’s just—” You pause, looking into his eyes, seeing the question there. “I’m not ready for that. Not yet.”

His shoulders relax, but his gaze doesn’t waver. He nods slowly, his lips pressing into a thin line as he processes your words. “Okay,” he says, his voice soft but certain. “That’s all you ever have to say, you know? I’m not here to push you into anything.”

You drop your hand from his wrist, but he doesn’t move away. Instead, his hand lingers on your side, the touch no longer exploring but reassuring. “It’s not just that,” you continue, your voice shaky. “I—I don’t feel… good about myself. I know I’m too thin, and I just don’t—”

“Stop,” he interrupts gently, his tone firm but full of warmth. “Don’t do that to yourself, okay? You’re not ‘too’ anything. You’re you, and that’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

Tears well up in your eyes, and you glance away, feeling vulnerable under his steady gaze. But Chris isn’t having it. He shifts so that he’s kneeling on the couch in front of you, his hands coming up to cradle your face. “Look at me,” he says, his thumbs brushing the corners of your eyes where the tears threaten to spill. “You’re beautiful, m’kay? Not because of what you think you should look like or whatever you’re comparing yourself to. You’re beautiful because you’re you. And I swear, I’ll spend the rest of my life reminding you of that if I have to.”

The sincerity in his voice leaves you breathless. You blink up at him, and when he sees the tears falling, he leans in to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “I’m serious,” he murmurs against your skin. “You never have to explain yourself to me. I’ll always wait for you, no matter how long it takes. Because it’s not about me, or even this. It’s about us.”

You nod, your hands finding their way to his as they rest against your cheeks. “Thank you,” you whisper, your voice barely audible.

He shakes his head, a small smile playing on his lips. “You don’t have to thank me. I love you, that’s all.”

The two of you stay like that for a long time, the weight of the conversation settling into a comforting quiet. Eventually, Chris pulls you into his arms, shifting so that you’re both lying back on the couch. His hand runs gently up and down your arm, his touch soothing.

He leans forward, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Take all the time you need. I’m not going anywhere.”

You breathe out a sigh of relief, feeling the weight of your own emotions settle in the safety of his words. He’s not in a hurry. He’s not pushing you. And somehow, that makes everything feel better, more right. The tension that had been building between you two dissolves into something quieter, softer. You still feel the heat of him beside you, the pull of his presence—but now, it feels like something you’re ready to embrace, when the time comes.

And as the night stretches on, you both stay there, wrapped up in each other, waiting for whatever comes next. The promise of more—a promise that can’t be broken.

But as the hours tick by and the night grows colder, you can feel it: things are about to change. The future, unknown and full of possibilities, awaits just beyond the horizon.

And whatever it holds, you know one thing for sure: you’ll face it together.

Months have passed since that night, and the walls you’d so carefully built between the two of you are beginning to feel fragile—like old bricks slowly crumbling, piece by piece. With every moment you’ve spent with Chris since, the weight of the space between you has only grown heavier, more unbearable. There’s something in the air now, a shift that feels as inevitable as the tide. You can feel it in the way he looks at you, in the way his voice deepens when he speaks your name, in the way his hands linger on your body just a little longer than before.

The tension between you both has escalated, winding itself around every glance, every touch, every whispered conversation. What started as tentative steps into new territory—those quiet, soft moments—has gradually transformed into something more intense, more urgent. You’ve grown so close that it’s almost suffocating in the best possible way, each of you navigating the space between comfort and longing, between safety and desire.

You’ve taken things much further now. Your lips no longer linger at the edge of hesitation; they meet his with fervor, with want, with a fire that feels like it could burn through everything in its path. The warmth of his touch sends waves of electricity through you, leaving you breathless and wanting more. You’ve learned every contour of his body, every curve of his smile, the exact way his lips feel against yours.

But none of it is enough.

You’ve built something with Chris, something you know is real, something you can’t imagine living without. But every time his hands trace the line of your back, his fingers brushing against the bare skin under your shirt, every time his lips leave a trail of soft kisses down your neck, it only leaves you wanting more. Not just his touch—not just the feeling of him beside you—but the intensity of everything he makes you feel, the wild, untamed yearning that has settled in your chest, burning brighter with each passing day.

It’s hard to put into words, the way it’s grown. The longing, the craving—it’s like a hunger you can’t ignore, can’t sate, no matter how many times your lips meet, how many times his hands gently pull you closer. You need more. You need him like you’ve never needed anything before. Your body aches for him in a way you hadn’t fully realized until now—until every moment you’ve spent with him has built to this crescendo, this pressure that you can’t push down anymore. It’s there when he smiles at you, his eyes full of mischief and sincerity all at once. It’s there when he touches you, his fingertips grazing your skin like a spark that could light the fuse of something you’ve been holding back for too long.

Tonight, the air feels thick with it. You’re sitting next to him on his couch, the soft hum of his laptop still present in the background, but it’s drowned out by the sound of your breathing, your heart pounding in your chest. The way his hand rests just inches from yours—your fingers brushing, the slightest touch—sets your pulse racing. Every movement he makes is like a promise, every glance, every small laugh, an invitation.

He shifts closer, his thigh pressed against yours, the warmth of his body radiating through your clothes. His arm finds its way around your shoulders, pulling you gently into his side, and for a moment, you just lean into him, taking in the feeling of his proximity. But the moment doesn’t last long. You can’t ignore the way his lips linger near your ear, the way his breath fans over your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

“You know,” he murmurs, his voice low and soft, teasing, “I’ve been thinking about this... about us... a lot lately.”

You turn your head slightly, meeting his gaze. His eyes are darker now, filled with a mixture of warmth and desire that makes your heart skip a beat. He’s not talking about just the past few months of your friendship, not talking about the casual touches or the quiet moments where your hearts would connect in a way you never thought possible. He’s talking about something more, something that neither of you has fully embraced yet.

“I want you, m’kay?” he says, his voice rough around the edges, his hand sliding down to your waist. His fingers press into your side gently, but you can feel the strength in his touch. It’s almost as if he’s trying to hold back, trying to be respectful of the space you’ve both created over the months, but the desire is too strong now.

You breathe out, feeling your chest tighten as he leans in, his lips barely brushing against yours. The kiss is slow, deliberate, his lips moving against yours with an intensity that makes everything else fall away. His hand moves up to cup your face, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw, and you feel it—everything you’ve been craving—crash over you in waves.

You’ve always known how much you wanted him, but this? This is different. This feels like a tipping point, a line you’re both about to cross. And as his kiss deepens, as his hand slides down to your back, pulling you closer, you know it’s no longer about holding back. It’s about surrendering to what’s between you, letting it consume you in the way you’ve longed for.

His lips trail down to your neck, his breath hot against your skin. You tilt your head back slightly, giving him better access, the pulse in your throat beating in time with the wild thrum of your heart. His hands move with purpose now, slipping under your shirt, his fingers grazing the skin of your stomach, sending a wave of heat rushing through you.

And then his fingers find the clasp of your bra. There’s no hesitation now. His touch is confident, sure. You can feel the pressure of his hand against your skin as he works at it, slowly and deliberately. But just as the clasp starts to loosen, you freeze. It’s not that you don’t want him—it’s that you feel yourself on the edge of something, something that makes you nervous but excited all at once.

You place your hand gently on his chest, stopping him. It’s not a rejection; it’s just… a moment of clarity. You pull back slightly, your breath ragged, and meet his eyes. His expression softens, and his lips curl into a small, reassuring smile.

“Are you sure?” he asks, his voice gentle, full of concern. “I don’t want to rush you.”

You take a deep breath, nodding slowly. “I want this, Chris. I really do."

On one particular Saturday night in the midst of autumn, you found yourself propped up against Chris’s side on one of the couches in the triplets party, legs bent up at your chest as you fiddled with frayed denim at the end of your pant leg. Chris was in a debate with a random man, someone he seemed to know well enough to bullshit with, talking about how the two had snagged something good off a rich man’s car not too long ago.

If it hadn’t been for the incessant rap music Nick played when it rounded two in the morning you’d likely have fallen asleep against Chris, but the occasional jump of a new song kept you jerking awake, a tired pout situating itself on your features as you rested your cheek against Chris’s shoulder.

“Looks like your miss is real tired.” The man stated, taking a long puff from his cigar before gesturing toward you with the end of it, a snicker following his words as he propped himself up against the end of his pool cue. Chris quirked a brow, looking down at you where you were tucked into his side with a hidden smile.

“Guess she is.” He murmured, not saying anything more beyond that before moving to prop himself up straighter, hand smoothing down your back as he looked down at you. “Tired?”

You weren’t tired, tired. More so bored, the constant scent of smoke and alcohol wasn’t helping the boredom or the budding headache in the back of your skull. But knowing if you said anything other than ‘yes’ at that moment would result in another hour downstairs, you nodded, feigning a yawn as you let your eyes flutter deceptively.

Chris caught on, but he didn’t say anything. Instead choosing to click his tongue against his teeth as he played along, shrugging as he moved to stand. “I’ll see you later, man.” He stated, causing the older man to shrug himself before dispersing off into the crowd. Chris turned to you, helping you to your feet before leading you up the stairs.

“Lyin’ is a sin, y’know that right?” He chuckled out, quiet enough for only you to hear as he nudged open his bedroom door with the toe of his shoe, causing you to laugh yourself and avert your gaze from his as you moved into the familiar room.

“Didn’t lie.” You mumbled out, another pout crossing your lips as you kicked off your shoes, making your way to his bed. “Real tired, Chrissy.”

“Sure, doll.” He snickered from the corner of the room as you made yourself comfortable on the bed, the familiar metallic clang of his belt hitting the wooden floor echoing throughout the room soon after.

He moved beside you then, letting out a sigh as he wrapped his arms around your middle, pulling your back flush with his chest. The sound of rap music and clattering pool balls still echoed from downstairs, but the only thing you could bring yourself to focus on was the feeling of Chris’s knee between your legs.

It was an innocent move, both of you slept with your legs intertwined, it felt comfortable given how small his bed was. As he shifted to get more comfortable his knee pressed harder against your clothed cunt, causing your cheeks to flush red as you choked back a whine. Chris stiffened, breath catching in his throat as he took a moment to gauge your reaction before moving his knee again.

“Chri-“ You whined, hand moving down in between your legs as you buried your face into the pillow you two shared, his scent lingering heavily on the fabric doing nothing to quell the growing ache between your legs.

“What, doll? Feel good?” He whispered, words ghosting across the nape of your neck, causing your back to arch involuntarily as you slowly nodded. His hand smoothed down your front, bumping over the fabric of your shirt and jeans as he slowly moved to cup your sex, ever so gently applying pressure as he rocked himself against you.

You felt yourself soaking your underwear with arousal the longer he rutted against you, his fingers pressing against your cunt through your jeans as he did. A familiar sensation bloomed in your lower stomach, one that left you clenching your thighs around his palm as you tried to quell the growing ache.

“Gotta tell me what you want.” He whispered against the shell of your ear, trailing a litany of open-mouthed kisses along the curvature of your throat, pressure from his fingers increasing against your cunt. “Need to hear you say it.”

“Fuck, Christopher, just fuck me.” You whined, embarrassment over the prospect of voicing your needs soon being overweighed by the sheer need you felt for him, your hand moved to grasp at his forearm as you begged. “Please, Chris.”

That seemed to be all he needed as he moved to sit up on his knees, pressing another kiss to your jaw before pulling his shirt up and over his head. You laid there, lips parted as you watched him undress, feeling your blush spread from your cheeks to the top of your chest. You wanted to touch him, feel him, kiss him - so you did. You moved to sit up, folding your legs underneath yourself as you moved to press a kiss to his lips, hands moving to cup his jaw, only pulling away when you felt that familiar pull to touch him elsewhere.

You’d seen him without a shirt, but you’d never truly been able to admire him until now. Your hands wavered over his body, fingertips dipping in between the rivets of his toned skin, along healed scars, a faint bruise that still lingered under the left side of his ribcage. Above it all you found yourself fascinated with the way his chest rose with each breath and the small freckles that lined his skin. They reminded you of the ones he’d gotten from his time in the sun that plastered themselves against his cheekbones and upper shoulders.

Chris let you look, eyes fluttering whenever your hands would drift farther south than before. You could hear him taking in shuddering breaths, chest catching every few minutes as though he were teetering on the edge of self-control. He raised his hands then, looking to you for approval before he lifted your shirt up and over your head, bundling the soft fabric in his hands before letting it fall to the floor.

You reached your hands behind yourself, unclasping your bra, letting the straps fall down your shoulders until your bra collapsed into your lap, exposing your breasts to him. He felt his throat dry, blue eyes flickering between your chest and your eyes before he moved to gently lay you back against his bed, situating himself over top of you.

“You want this?” His words were hushed as his hand drifted down over your bare stomach, slowly unbuttoning your jeans as he kept his gaze locked on your face, watching for any sign of discomfort or worry. When you responded with a nod and a quiet, “I want this.” He smiled, a soft laugh leaving him as he leaned down to press a kiss to your lips.

You’d envisioned losing your virginity hundreds of times, a perfect encapsulation of what sex had to be painted in your mind, vivid and blaring. But this was so different, the way Chris was so gentle, not afraid to laugh if something awkward happened, both of you sharing the pure moment of intimacy with smiles on your face. Nothing could’ve ever prepared you for it and that somehow made it all so much better.

As he slid your jeans off your legs he smiled up at you, a soft look on his face as he tossed the denim to the floor, moving back up to place another languid kiss to your lips. His hand moved between your thighs, fingers splaying against your cunt through your underwear, a groan passing his lips when he felt just how wet you’d become.

“Chris, please-“ You begged, thighs trembling as he continued to tease you through your underwear. He relented, placing a gentle kiss to your jaw before moving to sit back up, slowly sliding your underwear down and off your body before discarding them to the floor as well.

“So beautiful.” He murmured, eyes wandering over your form laid in front of him, hands smoothing up and down your sides as he took it all in. “So fuckin’ beautiful, doll.”

You watched with bated breath as he slipped his jeans off, kicking his boxers off along with them. His length was bigger than you’d anticipated, only having felt the shape of it when you’d ground down against him during your frequent make-out sessions. As if sensing your apprehension he moved back over you, hand moving to cup your cheek as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“It won’t hurt, alright? We’ll take it slow, real slow.” He whispered, voice soothing as he helped you to wrap your legs around his hips, your heels subtly digging into the flesh of his lower back. He smiled down at you, eyes voicing a silent question if you were alright to which you quickly nodded back, a smile upon your face as well.

He braced himself on his arm, face close to yours as he slid a hand down between you, helping to guide himself inside before sliding his fingers up to slowly circle your clit. A moan left you at the feeling, leaving you clenching around his tip, the feeling causing him to bite back a grunt as he slowly began pushing in.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” He groaned out, brows screwing together as he pushed himself to the hilt inside of your welcoming cunt, pausing in his movements to give you a chance to grow used to the feeling. “Doin’ so good, baby, so good.”

You’d heard horror stories from your friends, tales of how their first time had been painful and rushed, but this felt the complete opposite. While it took you a moment to grow used to the feeling of him inside of you, A sharp groan slips from your lips, the sound escaping before you can stop it. The sharp sting still lingers, a fiery sensation that makes every breath feel a little too heavy. You try to steady yourself, but the pain pulses with each movement, teasing you with its intensity.

You close your eyes, waiting for the sharpness to subside, the heat gradually fading into a dull throb. The tension in your body tightens, but you force yourself to relax, to let the stinging tone down. It’s a slow burn, a lingering reminder of just how real everything feels right now it was an incredibly welcome feeling. You could feel yourself clenching down around him, his fingers circling your clit only adding to the feeling building in your stomach.

“Chris- Chris, move.” You whispered out, voice hoarse as you grasped at his shoulders, desperate for him to move. He snickered at your pleading tone, slowly pulling himself out before pushing back in, slowly and deeply fucking you as he whispered words of praise into the crook of your neck, pressing kisses against your damp skin whenever he couldn’t help but moan at the feeling of your warmth surrounding him.

You could hear your wetness coating his cock with each thrust of his hips, his fingers slick against your clit. The room was filled with the sound of skin meeting skin, broken-off moans, and whispered words. Your thighs tightened against him as he adjusted himself, lifting himself a bit, unknowingly brushing against a spot within you that you’d never known existed - one that pulled a drawn-out moan from your chest.

Your mind goes momentarily blank, a fog settling over your thoughts as his hand flattens against your stomach, feeling the bulge of his cock. warm and grounding. The touch sends a ripple of heat through your body, and for a second, it feels as though time slows. Every nerve in your body seems to focus on the gentle pressure of his palm against your skin, pulling your attention to the way it feels—so intimate, so right. Your pulse quickens, your breath hitching as you struggle to gather your thoughts, but the weight of his hand keeps you rooted.

“Do you feel that, sweet girl?” His voice is low, the words curling around your senses, sending a shiver down your spine. It’s not just the question—it’s the way he says it, with that mixture of tenderness and something far deeper, far more possessive. His touch lingers, as if savoring the moment, and your body reacts before you can think. The fog in your mind grows thicker, swept away by the overwhelming sensation of him so close, so present.

“Yeah?” He asked through a smirk, hand moving down to cup your hip as he pushed back into you, hitting that very same spot. You could hardly think, let alone breathe as he fucked himself into you, fingers working at your clit as he angled himself to hit that spot over, and over. “Taking me so good, doll.” He grunted out, grip tightening on your hip as he picked up his pace.

Your hand shot down to his wrist as he continued toying with your clit, eyes fluttering shut as you felt your orgasm building to its peak in your lower stomach, the feeling causing you to rock your hips in tandem with his thrusts. The look on your face was enough to make him groan, his hand moving from your hip to your jaw as he tilted your face to look at him.

“Look at me when you cum on my cock, baby.” He murmured, voice soft yet authoritative as he slammed into you. As soon as you opened your eyes he moved his hand, pressing it against your lower stomach as he continued fucking himself into you. It felt as though he were pushing you down onto him, that spot that nearly blinded you with pleasure constantly being rutted against by his cock.

All you could muster was a weak, “F-fuck,” as you came undone, back arching off the bed as you whined out his name. He didn’t stop, stifling a groan at the way you writhed beneath him as he felt his orgasm building. Once you started swatting at his fingers that still circled your clit he moved his hand, choosing to grab the other side of your hip, effectively propping you up against him as he fucked you.

The pace was near brutal, moans forced from your body as your breasts bounced with each thrust. You couldn’t focus, still reeling from your last orgasm as he continued fucking you into oversensitivity-fueled bliss. You could feel his thumbs pressing into your hipbones, short curses slipping past his lips.

“Gonna cum, baby.” He grunted, pulling out of you a second later, spilling his cum across your lower stomach. His chest heaved, cheeks flushed red as he pumped himself through his orgasm. You could only watch in a haze of your own, still catching your breath as he looked up at you, that familiar crooked smile taking over his features as he moved on top of you once more.

“Did so good, doll. Real good.” He murmured against your cheek, pressing a kiss to your skin between each sentence. “You feel alright? Need me to get you something?” He asked after a moment, a hint of concern evident in his tone that made you smile as you shook your head.

“It felt perfect, Chris. I’m alright.” You whispered back, turning over onto your side to face him, bringing a hand up to cup his cheek, leaning up after to press a kiss to his waiting lips. “Perfect.”

Dividers by @bernardsbendystraws

A/N: Thank you for reading if you made it this far, or even if you just skimmed it over - either way I appreciate the interactions! I tried to make this accurate or at least how I envision virginity loss for Chris but feel free to correct me! I am very open to constructive criticism. I'm flopping very bad so I don't expect much interactions:))

taglist: @swagalicious260@watercolorskyy@coquettechris@lovesturni0l0s@christmastreecake@ellbowmacaroni@blog-luvdance@sophand4n4@meg4-matt44

NOT PROOFREAD!

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diazsdimples · 9 months ago

Note

Do you have any buddie fic recs that is a /must/ read for Buddie shippers ( sorry I don't ship Bucktommy 🥹)

Boy do I ever!!!

honey, when you call my name - @hippolotamus (Explicit)

"Eddie witnesses the Buck/Lucy kiss, has himself a little panic, and decides to do something about it when Buck does his Buck thing and won't stop pushing Eddie's buttons" It's spicy, it's sweet, it's packed full of feels and there was not a dry eye in the house!!

Whatever may come (your heart I will choose) - @hippolotamus (Mature)

"The Story of Eddie and Christopher Diaz" The number of times I yelled at Hippo while reading this,,,, it is incredible!! 30 chapters of Buckley-Diaz family feels, Eddie's heartbreaking backstory and FUCK if I could read it for the first time again, I would!

James Bond AU Series - @princessfbi (Teen & Explicit)

James Bond AU with 007 Agent Eddie Diaz and Buck as Q. Incredible. No notes. Read them back to back in one sitting, and then read them again immediately after. No prior knowledge of James Bond needed (cause I sure didn't have any) but be prepared to have the sudden urge to go watch all the films.

Kink Club AU Series - @princessfbi (Explicit)

"Canon compliant one shots where Eddie works at a Kink Club as a side hustle and meets Buck there before his first shift in 2x01." This series is insanely good. 5 perfect fics of the boys and BDSM, it is incredibly hot, full of feels and just.... yeah. Incredible. Please do read the tags before each fic though, especially if BDSM isn't your thing.

because we'll all arrive in heaven alive - @neverevan (Explicit)

"During a search and rescue, Eddie disappears without a trace, leaving Buck to grapple with the sudden possibility of a life without him." I was literally on the edge of my seat with every single chapter release. It's SO angsty and delicious and absolutely incredible, and I think also very feasible for what could happen in canon should Timothy ever decide to be as mean (affectionate) as Newbie was by putting the boys through this.

Out Of Order, Still In Line - @neverevan (Explicit)

"When Buck finally gets to the Clinic, the long awaited release doesn’t seem to come; cue Eddie to the rescue." One of the first Buddie fics I read and it altered my brain chemistry a little. Lord have mercy. It's just ... you gotta read it. Like, Jesus 🥵

My Blood on Your Skin (My Rose on Your Snow) - @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Explicit)

"When Eddie needs cash and fast to take care of Christopher, his LAFD Academy buddy suggests a job as a bouncer at Elysium - an exclusive sex club in downtown Los Angeles. Eddie doesn't care what goes on there, so long as he's paid, but he finds he cares a lot bout the club's enigmatic owner, Evan Buckley, and it's not long before the two of them are violating every boss-employee rule in the book. But there's something different about Buck and the club, something not quite... human. If Eddie wants to keep Buck, he's going to have to delve into the world of immortals, and all the risks that implies." Honestly I think the blurb says it all. I read this at my cousin's wedding (literally just before the ceremony and during the reception fsdkjdfs) because I literally couldn't put it down. Incredible Greek Gods integration and so. fucking. hot. Sorry Caleb, I hope your matrimony is holy but this was so worth it.

stuck now so long, we just got the start wrong - @daffi-990 (Unrated at present)

"Probational Firefighters Evan “Buck” Buckley and Eddie Diaz meet on a call which ends with them at odds with each other. As the months roll by, they keep running into each other on the job, much to Eddie’s dismay and Buck’s delight. Can they put aside their first opinions and misunderstandings and allow the seeds of friendship, and possibly something more, to take root?" This AU has been eating me alive with snippets for the last few months and the chapters are FINALLY being published!! Stay tuned for weekly updates about our idiots being - well - idiots. Daffi has written them so well and I don't think I could yell louder about this one if I wanted.

Cow Eyes - @theotherbuckley (General)

"'Eddie's in hospital and Buck tries not to break down' fic except its actually just a cute silly little fic" Exactly what is says on the tin. Cute, silly, fluffy and entirely adorable. High!Eddie is fucking hilarious and Worried!Buck has my whole ass heart. Love this fic, have read it many times, will read many times more

Both Blade and Branch - @cal-daisies-and-briars (Mature)

"The chances of being struck by lightning twice are incredibly minute, but Buck still manages to pull it off. During a double date with Marisol and Natalia, nonetheless. Eddie manages to resuscitate him, but as Buck recovers from yet another trauma, Eddie can’t help but notice there’s something very different about him. He’s not quite sure what version of Buck he got back." Orpheus and Eurydice vibes but somehow more heartbreaking because it's the Boys? Literally every chapter I was gobsmacked and the fact that I couldn't read it in one sitting due to Life™️ was frankly criminal.

what humans do - @gayhoediaz

""…and the thought that she had just escaped death by such a narrow margin made me realize the intensity of my feelings toward her.” Eddie swallows. “‘What’s the matter?’ I couldn’t tell her, so I kissed her instead,” Buck goes on, and since Eddie’s eyes are focused on the page, they drift ahead a little bit, and the next few lines have him swallowing once again, taking his hand back to brace himself against the mattress as he slowly starts to push himself up to sit. “Kissing is what humans do when words have reached a place they can’t escape from. It is a switch to another language. The kiss was an act of defiance, maybe of war. You can’t touch us, is what the kiss said. ‘I love you,’ I told her, and as I smelled her skin, I knew I had never wanted anyone or anything more than I wanted her…” Buck trails off when Eddie reaches for the book, gently luring it out of his grasp. " One of the best getting together fics I've read. So sweet, so hot, full of feels, and also just very 🤯 in many places. Just insanely well written and perfect imagery.

Also I have a small list of authors whom I love dearly:

@spotsandsocks @exhuastedpigeon @wildlife4life @thewolvesof1998 @thekristen999

@steadfastsaturnsrings @watchyourbuck @fortheloveofbuddie @rainbow-nerdss @bidisasterevankinard

@aroeddiediaz @jesuisici33 @wikiangela @loveyouanyway @kitteneddiediaz

@actuallyitsellie @dangerpronebuddie @loserdiaz @elvensorceress @underwaterninja13

@smilingbuckley

Literally anything these wonderful people (and the authors of the above fics) have written is well worth a read. I would rec all of their words and make individual recs for all their fics but I fear I simply do not have the words.

I might also humbly suggest some of my fics, which you can find here! Happy reading!!!

#james answers things #fic recs #buddie fics #buddie #buddie wip #buddie ao3 #eddie diaz #evan buckley #911 buddie #911 abc #please don't read too much into the fact that pretty much every single one of these are smut #they're just really fucking good okay?

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harleykeeners · 14 days ago

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how can I fear any hurricane? (my life was a storm since I was born)

Evan Buckley has always dealt with big emotions. However, none on the positive scale. Maybe for once something will change.

Evan Buckley could count the number of people he’s felt truly loved by on one hand. His most confident one was easily Maddie, followed by Bobby, Christopher, and Jee. He noticed how half of that list consisted of people without fully developed frontal lobes, and he fears it would be shortened once the children came of age. He was too young to remember Daniel, but he likes to think he would have loved his older brother, however, that isn’t enough evidence to be added to the list. So for now, Evan Buckley is loved by four people. He notes how his parents should be on that list. Key word: should. The sinking realization he had when his mother looked at him with such disgust at Maddie’s dinner table quickly removed both of them from his mental list. A thick black line crossed over their names. He tries to not eat off Maddie’s table anymore, the mood sours the food.

More under cut

Of course, the 118 loves him, however it often feels conditional. When Buck messes up, he feels like a wounded dog being called bad. Sometimes, he feels like he isn’t allowed to make mistakes with them. His rationale doesn’t allow him to believe that many people could love him, it isn’t right. The 118 care for him, they like him, but Buck doesn’t think they love him. At least, not in the way his list of four do.

Previous relationships were nothing past the surface for Buck. An attempt was made with Abby, but that resulted in him being left high and dry, forcing himself to stare through glass doors at the airport, watching her walk out of his life with nothing in her heart for him.

He was told ‘never to cross the glass doors.’ He still hasn’t.

Evan Buckley had since then given up the idea that he was lovable. It was different with children, different with Christopher and Jee. To them, Buck was a superhero. They were too young to carry his baggage, to see the scars littered across his chest and heart, and too young to see him for the broken man he pretends not to be. Buck loves them both, but the fear that one day they will truly see him frightens him.

That is what Evan Buckley has told himself. That is what Evan Buckley knows to be true. That is what Evan Buckley believed… until Tommy kissed him in his kitchen.

“Are you with me?” a voice asks as it snaps him back to the present. In the darkness, illuminated by only a bedside lamp, Tommy lays on his side, hand resting softly against Buck’s cheek, cradling his face. “You went somewhere, just now.”

“I’m just trying to wrap my head around what you just said,” Buck whispers, words only for him and Tommy to hear. He’s never felt so warm, so close, so safe. It’s such a 180 from his previous relationships. Buck equates some of that to the fact that this is his first time with a man, but it goes deeper than that. Right here, with Tommy, feels different than the rest. He’s always known that. From the moment Tommy first kissed him, Buck knew it would be different.

“Did I say it too soon?” Tommy says, and Buck stops thinking to study his face. Chiseled, and strong, with his stubble that pokes the pillow Buck can’t help but be mesmerized by him. Was this what it felt like, to be held? Buck wouldn’t know, no one had ever wrapped their arms around him and told him he was safe. He’s been that person for many people, but sometimes a man wants to fall apart.

Buck often wants to fall apart.

“Did I ever tell you about my brother?” he asks, avoiding Tommy’s question. “I thought it was just you and Maddie?” Buck shakes his head and breathes as he repositions himself between Tommy’s arms. He doesn’t even have to ask as Tommy wraps his biceps around his chest, placing his hands over his heart.

“He died before I could remember him.” Tommy tightens his grip around him, securing him in bed. “I never knew about him till a few years ago. Turns out it was cancer,” he stops. That word, cancer, makes the situation all the more real. Not some blaze of glory death like a lighting strike or meteor ball, but the slow painful thief of life that Buck couldn’t stop. He doesn’t know why he’s telling Tommy this, he just wants to. It’s not him looking for pity, or words of comfort. He just wants Tommy to know everything he can about him, because selfishly, Buck wants the same. The good, the bad, the nightmares that haunt him, Buck wants to hold Tommy’s heart and soul in his hands.

Not many people know about Daniel, none of his exes do, and maybe that’s why he wants to tell Tommy. He wants this to be different. He wants it to count.

“Do you miss him?” Tommy asks, making Buck think. Can he miss someone he didn’t know? Was it possible? He recalls how Bobby often misses God, so it must be. “Sometimes. I think so. When I was struck by lightning last year, my coma left me in this weird dream, almost like a parallel universe,” now he can’t shut his mouth. Not even Bobby knows about it, but something about the low glow of the lamp and Tommy’s cologne that lingers on the sheets makes Buck want to spill his guts. “It was all kinds of messed up, but the one thing that brought me joy was seeing my brother. He was all grown up and…” his voice cracks a little.

‘This is so stupid’, he thinks. ‘Tommy does not want to hear about my dead brother right now. I need to stop avoiding the elephant in the room’

“Did it make you happy to see him?” Forcing his voice to straighten out, Buck lets out a shaky breath as he looks up at Tommy and sees him actively listening. “Yeah, it did. It felt like I had someone who truly loved me. I know it sounds weird, but I’m not close with my family, aside from Maddie,” “That’s not weird,” he feels Tommy’s voice get closer as he nuzzles his face into the crook of Buck’s neck. God, everything about him consumes Buck. He never wants him to let go.

“It sounds like you haven’t always had it easy,” Tommy says between kisses on Buck’s shoulders and neck. “But I meant what I said,” the kisses stop and Buck is spun around to face Tommy. “I love you, every part of you,” he pauses and looks at Buck, truly looking at him for a minute before saying, “and whatever baggage you're willing to let me carry for you, I will.”

‘It’s too much’, Buck thinks. However, when in his life is it not? He’s never had it easy, he doesn’t think he ever will. Since he could walk, Buck’s life has been nothing short of a storm. He can barely count the number of people who love him and he has much less wins in his arsenal as well. So maybe, just this once, he shouldn't be afraid. This feeling, this ever-consuming feeling he gets when he hears Tommy speak, will never go away. He doesn’t want it to, it’s for once something he wishes to hold. Looking at his eyes, then down to his lips, Buck tries to reciprocate. The kiss is softer than usual, tender in ways unfamiliar to Buck. Unfamiliar but not unwanted.

“No one’s ever offered that before,” he says. “Then let me be your first and last, because you are something I’m sure about you,” Tommy says, pressing another kiss to his lips in a manner somehow more gentle than before. Buck wants to cry.

Halfway through another kiss, Buck realizes he should probably answer him. “I love you, too.” Maybe it’s not as scary as he thinks. His list grows to five.

#911 abc #911 fox #911 show #evan buckley #tommy kinard #bucktommy #sorry im weak for them #fanfic #gay #mlm #im so ill over them

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samantha-chicago · 10 months ago

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Proposal

Request: Hi there! Would love to put in an eddie diaz request please! Eddie proposes to reader. Eddie knows he wants to do it and has a ring ready and a plan or he has the ring but just sees a perfect opportunity and takes it? Then they maybe celebrate after?? Thanks 😊

Pairing : Eddie Diaz x Reader

It had been a horrible call, and the whole station knew about it. Everyone felt it in different ways. Many just stayed quiet, some going to the gym, but Eddie walked to his locker and stared at the little velvet box on the inside. Buck walked up behind him, placing his hands on Eddie’s shoulders.

“You’ve still got that thing?” Buck 6 over his shoulder, and Eddie nodded

“I’ve just never found the right time to do it” He sighed, sitting on the bench and shutting the door to hide the ring box again.

“Eddie. Do it now. God knows both you and Y/N, and well, everyone else in this station needs a little cheering up. You’re perfect for each other. You’ll never find a perfect time if you keep waiting” Buck shook his head, and Eddie looked over with a nod getting up.

Meanwhile, you were sitting upstairs sipping on a cup of coffee to relieve the stress from the call. Hen, Chimney, and Bobby sat off to the side. Eddie rushed up the stairs and over to you. You looked over as he took the coffee cup out of your hands, exciting a whine from your lips.

“You can get your coffee back in a minute, baby. I promise I just need to borrow you for a minute” He smiled, and you nodded, getting up and following him back down the stairs. Eddie walked you both to a hidden space behind the firetrucks where not a single person could see you no matter how busy it got.

“Why are you down here? You’re not planning on killing me, are you?” You joked, and he shook his head.

“I’ve been fighting about this for ages. Buck finally talked some sense into me, and I figured no time like the present” You frowned, looking at him

“It definitely sounds like you’re about to kill me” Eddie held your hands, looking into your eyes. He gently placed a kiss to your knuckles before getting down on one knee. Your frown deepened as he dropped one of your hands and reached into one of his many pockets and pulled out the small velvet box.

“Eddie, what are you doing?” You asked as he looked up at you, his hands shaking as he did.

“Of course I will” You smiled as he slid the ring on your finger. He stood up, hugging you tightly as your lips pressed together for a long kiss.

“I love you so much, Y/N. You’re the love of my life, and Christopher loves you, which also pushed my decision towards doing this because Christopher is everything to me. Well, joint number one because no one can ever beat Christopher. Now I’m blabbering” You smiled watching him.

“As I was saying. You’re the love of my life, and there’s no one else I would ever want to spend every day of my life with, and today after that call just helped me realise that even more. Y/N L/N I want to spend every day of my life with you, and I love you so much. Will you marry me?” He asked, and your hands covered your mouth as you started to tear up. You always proud yourself for not crying on shift

✰✰✰

Later that night, everyone was gathered into Bobby’s house. Bobby cooking on the grill, May, Harry, Denny, and Christopher running about and playing with each other as you sat on Eddie’s lap. His hand wrapped around your waist and head resting on your shoulder as everyone talked. Music quietly played in the background as everyone sat talking. Your hands played with Eddie’s hands as you spoke to Maddie, who was cuddling Jee-Yun, who was happily falling asleep in your arms.

Sat imagining how that could be you and Eddie in a few years. Christopher is off playing while you’re sitting cuddling your baby and Eddie at the same time.

“Are you okay, baby? You’ve gone quiet?” Eddie asked quietly, pressing a kiss to your neck just under your ear. You nodded quietly, turning your head to place a kiss to his lips

“Just imagining our future together” you whispered against his lips, and he smiled

“Oh yeah? What does that look like?” He asked

“Christopher off playing, us sat cuddling each other and our little baby” You smiled

“You want a baby?” He asked, and you nodded

“Of course I do. Do you?” You asked now just realising that the topic had never come up before

“I’d love to give Christopher a sibling” He smiled, pressing yet another kiss to your lips. Your hands wrapped around his neck and softly played with the hair at the nape of his neck. The perfect way to end the day.

Taglist

@halsteadbrasil @marvelmenarebeautiful @certifiedwootiny @oliviah-25 @Dreamsingr @Scaramou @tringeorge

#eddie diaz x reader #eddie diaz #911 abc #evan buckley #station 118 #firehouse 118 #bobby nash #chimney #maddie buckley #may grant

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francisjohnpatrickmulcahy · 4 months ago

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William Christopher was born 92 years ago today. Although he's no longer with us and unable to ever see this, I would nonetheless like to express my gratitude for what his performance as Father Mulcahy meant to me, particularly when I was young.

Without getting to deep in the weeds about my issues as a child, it was when I was 13 when my childhood troubles were at their worst and when I first really got into MASH. It was something I enjoyed watching with my parents (and still do), and it was on TV Land at the time-slot when I got home from school, so it was something I looked forward to on a daily basis. Mind you I was deconstructing my Christian faith at that age and a horrible edge-lord about it, so there was no way in hell that I was going to admit that Father Mulcahy was my favorite character and that I had just a lil' crush on him because he's so dang cute! However an important part of Mulcahy's purpose in the story was to provide wisdom, strength and comfort to others; things I needed in abundance at that time and wished there was a person like that in my life I could talk to. Now that I'm much older and better know who I am as a person, I still think of Mulcahy when I need such inspiration.

There's a lot I would like to say, but maybe not so much to everyone on the internet. Suffice it to say I wish I had sent William Christopher the fan letter I wanted to send him when I was young to thank him for the comfort and laughter his character provided for me in a time when it was hard for me to be able to laugh. He put so much heart into his performance of Father Mulcahy and made it all feel genuine. I'm not good at saying these things, but I know there's a lot of you out there who probably feel similarly. I want to thank you guys in particular for the times since I started this blog when you've given me comfort when I needed it, whether directly or vicariously, and I can only hope to return the favor when the opportunity presents itself.

To someone whose work was a source of inspiration, laughter and comfort to me at a vulnerable age and continues to bring me and many others a great deal of joy: Happy birthday, William Christopher!

#william christopher #father mulcahy #father francis mulcahy #mash #m*a*s*h #mashposting #mashblr #mashblogging #francis mulcahy #mash 4077

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staylovesmiley · 6 months ago

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Connected~ Chapter 3

ᯓᡣ𐭩Pairing; Bangchan x Fem!Reader

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ᯓᡣ𐭩Summary; Lumi had been a trainee at JYPE for years. Having entered the company a couple years after Chris the two became good friends, maybe even more. As she watched her best friend finally achieved his dream, the distance between them grew. With her debut date finally set in stone, will the two be able to rekindle their flame or will the connection between them falter?

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ᯓᡣ𐭩 ᯓᡣ𐭩 Notes; This is an ABO!AU. in this world when someone reaches puberty they will present with one of three sub genders; alpha, beta, or omega. Scent glands are located near the pressure points on the neck and small hormonal patches called scent blockers can be placed over them to reduce or rid an individual of their scent for a period of time depending on the strength of the hormones in the patch.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ᯓᡣ𐭩 ᯓᡣ𐭩ᯓᡣ𐭩Warnings; abo!au, female!reader, poly!pack dynamics, angst, mild violence, smut, old friends to lovers, she/her pronouns used for reader, jealous Bangchan, Reader is an OC, Mentions of unhealthy dieting(forced by the company), Reader is three years younger than Chan (‘00 liners unite!!)

The second the door had closed behind them, the air felt heavy with unspoken words and left the omega feeling as if the gravity had been sucked out of the room.

The two made their way over to the couch where Lumi gestured for Chan to have a seat, she herself sitting in a chair opposite from where he stood by the sofa. He did so, looking over to watch her anxiously as if she would disappear at any moment and he would wake up from whatever dream it was that allowed him to see the dancer again.

They sat like that for a while in silence, just watching each other from over the coffee table as neither one were sure how to start the difficult conversation ahead. “You look good, Chris…” came her timid voice, hands gesturing to him and he felt a heat creep up the back of his neck and onto his cheeks. “Oh um, thank you….so do you- I like your hair.”

It was her turn to blush as her gaze fell to her lap and a hand came to run through the pink loose curls as they fell to hide her face from the other. “Thanks-“ Another wave of silence washed over them, the sounds of other idols and staff filling the halls outside and working as a distraction against the situation at hand.

Taking a deep, shaky breath, the alpha spoke up finally. “Why didn’t you tell me…” the hurt in his voice stung as Lumi refused to meet his intense stare as he once again seemed to be trying to read her mind to find the answers for himself.

“I tried, I did…that day in the studio when you told me about the show-“ his heart felt like it stopped at that, he knew there had to have been something more Lumi wanted to discuss but in his excitement and selfishness he brushed it off and just hoped she’d tell him. He wished in that moment he could go back in time and push her to tell him what was really on her mind, even if she resisted for his sake at first he knew he could have gotten her to tell him the truth eventually.

“Why did you leave? If you were still planning to become an idol why switch companies?” She sighed, running a hand through her hair anxiously as he continued to question her. “Because I wasn’t going anywhere at jype, Christopher. They were going to keep me in the basement until I aged out or until I eventually slipped up and was no longer worth keeping around.”

His brows furrowed, arms up defensively. “You don’t know that! You quit before you could find out-“ his accusation only seemed to light a fuse inside of her as she shot up from her seat to tower over the alpha. “I didn’t quit! I found a company that actually valued me enough to debut me!” Chan scoffed, eyes rolling dramatically as he also rose from his seat. “Yeah after seven.fucking.years! Seriously, Lumi? You think that’s any better than what could have happened if you stayed?! You could have been debuted by now and already have a few years of idol life under your belt by now had you just stayed!”

As his voice began to rise so did the omega’s temper and she laughed incredulously, shaking her head at the raven haired alpha. “At least at KQ I wasn’t alone. By the time I finally decided to leave you had already replaced and forgotten about me.”

Now Bangchan felt his anger spike, giving her a glare as he stepped up so their chests were practically touching. “What the fuck do you mean, Lumi? The second I had a moment of peace I went looking for you and you were gone!” Shaking her head, the dancers rage persisted. “Yeah after you didn’t so much as spare a glance my way in the halls for months, Christopher! Seriously- you don’t realize how fucked up that was?!”

Lumi turned away from him, fingers running through her hair as she tried to calm down. She felt like she was back seven years ago watching her best friend, the only home she had come to know in the foreign country, completely ignore her while his laughter with his newfound pack echoed throughout the company no matter where she went she would see glimpses of his dimpled smile directed at the members she couldn’t help feel like had taken the alpha from her.

“You don’t seem to realize that I was busy! There was so much pressure on me, Lumi- I couldn’t even sleep I was trying to hold an entire new pack together while also under the stress of training and preparing to debut while it was all being filmed for millions to watch just waiting for me to fail!” The volume of his voice caused it words to bounce off the walls of the green room, the intensity of his outburst chilling those who happened to be in the vicinity to hear their argument.

The omega scoffed, shaking her head as she whipped around. “Yeah, I get that. I told myself that for so long- that you were just busy. But you don’t think I was under a lot of stress as well?! So much was changing, the company was putting more pressure on me to diet and change my appearance, to improve in areas that looking back now I don’t know how I was supposed to even get any more precise than I already was? It was all too much and on top of it all I lost the only support system I had-“ Tears pooled in her eyes, threatening to spill over as she stepped back over to him with a finger poking at his chest.

“You, Hanji, and Bin were like my family, my-“ Her voice caught in her throat slightly but she persisted, refusing to shed a single tear in front of him. “My pack.” With a shaky breath, Chan stared down at her with wide eyes and a shocked expression as he took in her words. “You all abandoned me, got a nice shiny new pack and all this fame and it didn’t matter if I stayed or if I left….everything was different and you didn’t need me anymore. Or didn’t want me-“

Chan reached out, his chest tightening as he felt the strong urge to comfort the omega, to assure her that it would be okay and that he was there now and that he would make it up to her, but as he lifted his arms to pull her into an embrace she stepped away quickly. “I think you should go, Chan….it’s almost time for the end of the show and our groups are gonna be needed on the stage soon.” Her voice was small, and he swore he saw a single tear slip down her cheek. His throat felt impossibly dry as he nodded, eyes still not leaving her until he heard the door open and close behind them.

“Um- Hi! So sorry to interrupt but we gotta go line up to go on stage.” Mani spoke firmly, trying to sound polite but the alpha could tell there was a slight bite behind their words as they moved to wrap an arm protectively around the younger omega.

Chan nodded, head swimming as he felt like he was lost in a haze from the adrenaline and anger filled state he had been in moments ago. “Right- sorry….I’ll be going.” With that he backed out of the room, feeling like there was a rock sitting in the pit of his stomach as he made his way back to the kids to get ready to go back to the stage as well.

After that day, the rest of promotions for both groups was tense behind the scenes.

Lumi would greet Jisung and Changbin warmly, meeting with them in the cafeteria or in her green room to catch up. They even exchanged phone numbers and promised to keep in touch once it was all over.

Chan didn’t attempt any further contact with the dancer, feeling as if a knife were being twisted in his gut anytime he saw her laughing and smiling with one of his members from afar. The alpha couldn’t bring himself to start their conversation back again, guilt eating away at his conscious as her words bounced around his head like a dodge ball loud and squeaky in a large echoing gymnasium.

“You abandoned me” and “You didn’t need me anymore. Or want me-“ are the words that kept him awake, far worse than his sleep apnea ever had before.

The kids tried several times to get him to come around. Felix practically begging him once to tag along when he and Changbin went out for hotpot with the pink haired omega. He’d politely declined the younger alpha’s invitation, using the excuse that he had something he wanted to work on in the studio.

Chan saw through social media and heard through stories from his pack about how his friend was doing and it felt like daggers to his heart every time but he would never show it. The leader always put on a smile and nodded, telling them that he was glad she was doing well.

Deep down there was a longing to be in their place, but he didn’t think that would ever be possible. Not after the asinine moves he had pulled.

Lumi was no better.

Anytime she met with one of them she found herself subconsciously searching for his scent on them, any lingering of his presence in the air around his pack members.

Once when she hugged Jeongin in greeting when she had met up with the younger for coffee before his vocal lesson one day she caught a large wave of warm vanilla washing over her and it made her feel lightheaded in the best way possible. It turned out that the beta had borrowed one of the alpha’s hoodies since the one he had wanted to wear was in the wash still.

None of them were oblivious to it either.

They saw the look in their leader’s eye whenever she was brought up, the longing and sorrow deeply settled there no matter how hard he tried to bury it.

They noticed the way the dancer clung to them more on days they had borrowed something of Chan’s, her demeanor seeming more at peace with the alpha’s scent close to her.

Jisung was the worst, almost egging it on and watching with amusement as he tried to break down both of their resolves piece by piece.

First, he would allow the omega to scent him heavily whenever they hung out just to go back to the dorm and take a nap in the leader’s bed, leaving Lumi’s scent behind for the alpha to find when he got back home late after working in the studio.

Second was he would always borrow something of the oldest’s before meeting up with the dancer after realizing how she would behave with his scent present. Once he even got lucky and on a particularly chilly day he had met Lumi for dinner, she had forgotten her jacket in the manager’s car so he offered her the zip up hoodie he had on.

He didn’t mention that it wasn’t exactly his, but Chan’s instead.

Once the smell of vanilla and something like brown sugar surrounded her the omega’s cheeks tan warm and her heart began beating rapidly. Lumi didn’t utter a word about it, silently enjoying being able to soak up the alpha’s scent in the most direct way that she had the chance to in seven years.

As they were parting ways after the meal, Jisung cheekily insisted she hold onto the jacket and return it next time they saw each other, feigning worry for her health should she catch a cold without it. Really he was just using it as another means to attempt and bring the two former friends back together again.

As summer turned to fall and the air outside began to chill significantly, Lumi found herself spending more and more time with the members of stray kids.

She even managed to bond with Minho, who she previously had never officially met, due to his close bond with Jisung.

With Halloween approaching the pink haired dancer found herself with a rare night to herself at the dorm as Mani had gone to visit her father for the weekend.

Lumi decided to call Jisung and invite them over for a night of snacks and horror movies in honor of the upcoming holiday. Much to her dismay he didn’t seem to enthused with the idea of scary movies.

“Come on, Hanji it’ll be fun! I know you aren’t the biggest fan of horror but we can all get scared together! The guys are all invited, of course. Just let me know a headcount so I can get the right amount of snacks.”

With a smirk, the beta thought about his current plan involving getting the dancer and his leader to reconnect. “Do you mind if Chan hyung tags along too? It’ll be an excuse we can use to finally pull him out of the studio…you know how he can be.”

Oh she knew very well how he could be, back then at least, she could only imagine how bad it got now that they were actually debut and there being a new level of expectation placed on his shoulders. Hesitantly, she thought it over while Han waited impatiently on the other line. “Lumi? Still there?” The omega startled a bit, having gotten lost in thought of the alpha she couldn’t deny she missed desperately being in her space where his comforting smell of warm sugary vanilla could be left behind and linger for days to come. “Sure- he can come.”

Han tried not to sound too happy at the extended invitation, punching his fist in the air and causing Hyunjin to give him a curious yet judgmental look from across the practice room. “Awesome! Okay, we’ll be over in like an hour? Don’t worry about snacks me and the guys will pick them up on our way! Text me whatever you want, ‘kay?”

Lumi shook her head, hoping this wasn’t a bad idea before agreeing to text him her desired snacks before ending the call. Suddenly she felt the apartment wasn’t tidy enough with the addition of a somewhat special guest and so while waiting for them to finish their work at the company and head over the dancer began cleaning up and making sure everything looked to her standards before anyone arrived.

Just as he has said, roughly an hour later there was a knock at the front door startling the dancer a bit as she had been so busy making sure the place was presentable she seemed to lose track of the time. “I’m coming, just one second!” The omega looked down at her appearance in just a sports bra and a pair of loose fitting sweatpants and made a little groan before rushing to the small laundry room in the back of the apartment to find a shirt.

Another knock sounded after a few minutes as she was struggled to find a decent shirt to put on that was clean. “Just come in! Door is unlocked-“ she called out, figuring by the time they all made it in she would have found something and be able to greet them in the main area of the apartment. Lumi was mistaken, however. With her upper body almost fully inside the dryer as she searched frantically for any clean shirt at that point, a chorus of giggling and whispers drew her attention.

“Baby what are you doing?” Changbin called out, his tone amused and somewhat teasing. At the sound of them standing outside the laundry room door, the omega hit her head on the way out of the dryer. “Ah-“ she held the back her head where it had hit the top inside of the dryer, sitting defeatedly on the floor. “I can’t find a shirt-“ Lumi huffed, looking up to see not only Changbin but the entire rest of the stray kids were standing there staring at her. Some wore wide eyes expressions while others seemed to find it amusing, others smirked.

Felix spoke up, crossing his arms over his chest. “Hey, I’m not complaining if you can’t find one.” He flirted playfully causing the dancer to blush and look away.

Chan, who was standing beside the freckled alpha, felt the familiar sting of jealousy burn inside him at his members obvious staring at the omega’s partially dressed state. “Here, baby- put this on.” Han said as he tossed her a hoodie, the same zip up hoodie of Chan’s he had loaned the dancer a few weeks previously.

She gave the beta a smile, pulling it on and zipping it up most of the way. “Thank Hanji. I was a little distracted earlier and forgot I was doing laundry and wasn’t exactly fully dressed-“

Chan felt like his heart was going to beat out of his chest when he saw what Jisung had handed her to wear. That hoodie- one of his favorites that he had been missing and didn’t have a clue where it had gone.

As the group made their way back to the living room, the alpha took hold of the beta producer’s shoulder and held him back to have a word while the others went on ahead. “Where the fuck did you find that? I’ve been looking for that hoodie for weeks now!” He said through grit teeth, staring at Jisung with bewilderment.

The younger smirked and offered his leader a shrug. “I wore it out a few weeks ago to meet Lumi and she forgot her jacket- it was cold out and I didn’t want her to get sick so I said she could borrow it.” The alpha glared, causing Han to hold his hands up in defense. “I was gonna get it back! But everyone was staring and I saw it laying on her bed from the open door to her room so I just- thought fast?” He explained, rambling slightly in true Han Jisung fashion.

Wait, on her bed? Why was his jacket, which she had to have known was his from the scent, on her bed of all places? His mind began working overtime and the once defensive Jisung regained his smug smile before moving to join the others in the living room. “Come on, hyung or we’ll miss the beginning of the first movie!” He called out cheerily, plopped himself down on the floor in between Minho’s open legs where he sat with his back resting against the bottom of the couch.

Chan stood frozen, blinking a few times before shaking his head and making his way after the beta into the living room. He looked over to see Lumi cuddled up into Changbin’s side with a bowl of popcorn on their laps, his stomach doing flips seeing how she had pulled the hood of his jacket up causing the scent that remained embedded in it from countless wears by the alpha to surround her almost completely. It caused something inside him to snap and he couldn’t take his eyes off of her through the entirety of the first movie.

One movie down and they were all getting a bit more hungry than just snacks could fix so they all agreed ordering in would be the best decision.

Lumi stood in the small kitchen of her shared apartment, phone in hand as she placed the order for pizzas to be delivered for all of them.

As she leaned against the counter, making sure the address was put in correctly and hitting confirm she felt another presence enter the room. Looking up she came face to face with Chan as he stood directly in front of her.

Upon the sudden close proximity, the dancer jumped and almost dropped her phone in surprise. “Geez, Chris- warn a girl next time will ya?” She joked, trying not to seem to on edge around the alpha though her mind was spinning knowing he was so close she could reach out and touch him. The last time they were this close it was during a screaming match as they argued about her departure from jype.

“What was my hoodie doing on your bed?” He said accusatorially, looking the omega in the eyes as she seemed to freeze at the question. “I- Ji let me borrow it the other day? It’s just where it landed when I took it off, it’s not a big deal…” She explained it away, not wanting to admit to him that she had slept with it on almost every night since receiving it.

His fingers caught the hem of the hoodie, rubbing the fabric between them slowly as he stepped even closer. “It looks good on you…” he said it so quietly she thought she misheard him, until she looked up into his eyes and saw how softly they admired her. “Chris….” Her voice was hesitant, swallowing hard as the smell of vanilla and rose water engulfed them both.

The alpha quickly caged her in against the counter, head dipping down towards her neck yet he made no further move to scent her. “I’ve been such an idiot.” He said, head falling to rest against her shoulder.

Lumi’s breath caught in her throat at the contact and without thinking on it further she set her phone on the counter behind her and brought her arms around his waist slowly, afraid of scaring him off should she move too suddenly.

Chan sighed, shoulders slumping with relief as she took him into her arms so carefully. “You were…but I wasn’t very fair to you, either-“ he pulled away, looking into her eyes with furrowed brows. “Stop that, Lumi. You were right…I- I abandoned you completely. I can’t believe I did that…I don’t know what was wrong with me.”

She shook her head, one of her hands moving to cup his cheek while she looked into his eyes with an empathetic expression. “You were so young…we both were- you had the weight of the fucking world on your shoulders and I didn’t offer you any grace on that fact.” He continued to frown, leaning into her touch as he let the smell of sweet roses flood his senses. “Missed this…missed you-“

The omega smiled, resting her forehead against his. “I won’t go anywhere if you don’t…” she teased, causing the alpha to wince. “Again, I’m sorry…seeing you reconnecting with Ji and Bin has been torture- I felt like I didn’t deserve your forgiveness…or your friendship.” Lumi frowned now, moving her other hand now to cup the other side of his face and smoosh it slightly. “Christopher you’re too hard on yourself, always have been. Can you just- relax for once? Not be so- self sacrificial?”

Chan blinked rapidly, eyes shifting from hers to her lips as decided to listen to her words and crash his lips against the omegas in what he considered to be a very selfish act on his part.

For a moment she froze, gasping against his lips in shock at his actions. Soon she was melting into the kiss, hands still cupping his face as his came to rest on her hips.

The kiss was hungry, laced with years of longing and desperation for each other and before long Lumi was moving her hands to lock behind his head as she deepened the kiss with a swipe of her tongue across his lower lip.

A low growl erupted from the alpha’s chest, causing goosebumps to raise on the dancer’s skin. Chan mumbled a quick “jump” against her soft lips and as she followed the direction he was lifting her up and placing her on the counter behind them.

Lumi bit back the squeal that threatened to escape at just how strong the alpha was, wrapping her legs around his waist while continuing to kiss him with enough passion she hoped would convey just how much she needed him even after all those years apart. A need that scared her and caused her fear of being abandoned yet again to spark to life suddenly.

Eventually the had to pull away for air, chests heaving as they attempted to catch their breaths stolen in the heat of the moment. From the living room they both heard the sound of Changbin calling out to ask if the food had been ordered yet or not, both of their heads turning to make sure no one had witnessed their blatant act of pda.

“Oh um- yeah Binnie I just finished placing it now!” Lumi answered, trying not to sound so breathless as Chan bit his lip to hold in his laughter. “We should go back to the others…” she said, placing a hand on his chest to push him away so she could hop down from the counter only for his hand to wrap around her wrist and hold it there. “Are we….we need to talk about what just happened-“ he said, looking into her eyes with an unreadable expression.

Shaking her head, the pink haired dancer pulled her hand away before getting down from where he placed her on the counter top and stepped around him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about- nothing happened.“ was all she said before disappearing to reclaim her spot next to the omegan rapper.

Oh he was so absolutely and royally fucked.

author’s note; oh this is gonna be so fun~ hope you guys enjoyed! This chapter is brought to you by “the perfect pair” by beabadoobee as I had that shit on loop while writing this ᕱᕱ₊˚⊹♡ as always lmk what you think~~

taglist; (pink users means I was unable to tag) @coastinglove @breadedloafs @miraculous-disaster

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if-tomorrow-never-comes · 11 days ago

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With tastes like these, Burroughs was not Nirvana’s target demographic. Still, he maintained a soft spot for the band’s leader. For Cobain’s 27th birthday on February 20, 1994, Burroughs sent a photo of Kurt inside the orgone accumulator affixed to a painting he had made himself. A note in cramped handwriting read: “For Kurt, all best on 27th birthday and many, many more. From William S. Burroughs.” Less than two months later, the young star was dead. In the wake of the tragedy, Burroughs reflected on their meeting and Cobain’s choice to end his life. “The thing I remember about him is the deathly grey complexion of his cheeks,” he remarked. “It wasn’t an act of will for Kurt to kill himself. As far as I was concerned, he was dead already.” [52]As Christopher Sandford describes in the biography Kurt Cobain, Burroughs, troubled by the musician’s violent end, attempted to find meaning in Kurt’s lyrics: “There was surely poignancy in the sight of the 80 year-old author, himself no stranger to tragedy, scouring Cobain’s songs for clues to his suicide. In the event he found only the ‘general despair’ he had already noted during their one meeting.” Cobain’s suicide note demonstrates his intense feelings of empathy: “There’s good in all of us and I think I simply love people too much, so much that it makes me feel too fucking sad.” Burroughs’ own exit would not come for several more years. He made his final journal entry on July 30, 1997—just three days before he died from complications following a heart attack. His final testament bears some similarities to Cobain’s: “There is no final enough of wisdom, experience—any fucking thing. No Holy Grail, No Final Satori, no solution. Just conflict. Only thing that can resolve conflict is love, like I felt for Fletch and Ruski, Spooner, and Calico. Pure love. What I feel for my cats past and present. Love? What is it? Most natural painkiller what there is. LOVE.”

#love #kurt cobain #william s. burroughs #cats

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epicbuddieficrecs · 1 year ago

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Favorite Buddie fics of 2023!

Every single year at @epicstuckyficrecs I used to do a fic rec at the end of the year with my favorite fics. I figured I should keep the tradition going! So, without further ado, these are my favorite Buddie fics (in no particular order) published in 2023! (you can also check out some other favorite Buddie fics of mine here)

If you have any favorites that aren't in this list, don't hesitate to share them in the comments! :)

Complete

find a way to you (if it kills me) by foxwatson/ @eddiediazes (Post S6E13: Mixed Feelings, Pining | 19K | Mature): the one where eddie decides to start dating again, buck figures out his own feelings just a minute too late, and then he spends a week going through the five stages of grief

let the world have its way with you by fleetinghearts/ @shitouttabuck (Post-Coma AU | 54K | Explicit): or, a bucket list that’s really about buck needing to make a change and an eddie who’s ready to do anything to see him fall in love with life again. it takes some crossing off for eddie to realise—the thing at the top of the list in his own heart? it’s been right here all along

Being Eddie by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Time Travel, Post-Season 6, Getting together | 80K | Teen): When Eddie starts seeing a new therapist, he’s presented with the opportunity to revisit several days from his past and right regrets that still bother him. OR: Eddie goes through the time travel therapy process of the 2009 Canadian TV show Being Erica.

Evan Buckley & The Coma-Verse of Madness by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Coma AU, Multiverse | 58K | Teen): After being struck by lightning on a call, Buck experiences a plethora of alternate realities showing him different directions his life could have taken. Fighting hard to get home, Buck learns what, or who, is important to him in every lifetime.

like a dog with a bird at your door by fleetinghearts/ @shitouttabuck (Post-S6, Getting Together | 51K | Explicit): or, evan “i love you like a dog” buckley has only ever known how to love like, well, a dog, but maybe eddie diaz is the kinda guy to give a flea-bitten mongrel a forever home

Both Blade and Branch by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Post-S6 | 62K | Mature): The chances of being struck by lightning twice are incredibly minute, but Buck still manages to pull it off. During a double date with Marisol and Natalia, nonetheless. Eddie manages to resuscitate him, but as Buck recovers from yet another trauma, Eddie can’t help but notice there’s something very different about him. He’s not quite sure what version of Buck he got back.

where all of the people dancing and clapping would greet me with such warmth by trysetmeonfire/ @try-set-me-on-fire (Season 6, Magical Realism | 15K | Mature): In the fall, Buck begins to disappear. (Part 2 of All I Am, All That I Am)

Nothing Left But You by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars ("Blip" AU | 27K | Teen | Warning: MCD): In May of 2021, 25% of Earth's population suddenly disappears. Including Eddie. In May of 2026, they all come back. Eddie finds himself suddenly in the middle of a world he doesn't recognize, where the people he loves most have changed significantly.

Your Love is an Oil Slick (It Glows like Rainbows, It Stains My Soul) by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Canon Divergent - Supernatural Elements, Ghost Buck | 67K | Explicit): When Eddie's son claims he has an imaginary friend, Eddie doesn't think much of it. Christopher is seven, it's what kids do. But then weird things start happening around the house, and Eddie starts dreaming about a handsome blue-eyed man. Turns out, Christopher's friend isn't so imaginary. Their house is haunted.

come with me, together, we can take the long way home series by allisonRW96/ @homerforsure (Canon compliant | 105K | T to M):

Get me through the night; Make me feel alright (Post-S3 Finale | 11K | Mature): After an emotionally-gutting reunion with Abby, Buck turns to old coping mechanisms. Eddie helps him find a better way. In Uncertain Times, The Uncertain Rules Apply (Pre-S4 | 22K | Teen): Covid comes to LA. Eddie copes. Or doesn't. Holding out for Something More (Stuck in Reverse) (Post S4E3/Lone Star Crossover | 26K | Teen): LA is coming out of lockdown and the world is returning to some sense of normalcy. But going back to the way things were hurts more than Buck expected. While his therapist challenges him to confront what he really wants, the team takes a trip to Austin... and El Paso. so far from being free (S4E4: 9-1-1 What's Your Grievance?, S4E5: Buck Begins | 46K | Teen): That’s Daniel. He was our brother. Buck doesn’t know what to do with the past tense. He never had a brother. He’s always had a brother. He gained one and lost one in the same breath and it feels impossible.

Kink Club AU series by Princessfbi/ @princessfbi (Canon Divergent - Different First Meeting, BDSM, Dom Eddie, Sub Buck | Complete | Explicit): Canon compliant one shots where Eddie works at a Kink Club as a side hustle and meets Buck there before his first shift in 2x01.

The Warmth (of You) (25K): aka where Buck and Eddie first meet at a kink club before the firehouse To Weather the Storm (With You) (21K): aka the fallout of Buck finding out the dom he met at a Kink Club is his new coworker Safe Here (With You) (20K): aka Buck and Eddie handle working a shift after their first scene The Building Pressure (of You) (15K): aka Buck reaches out to Eddie after he leaves Abby's place in 2x07 An Offer to Torment (You) (14K): aka Eddie is all twisted up inside about what to do with Shannon. Buck offers himself up for some much needed holiday stress relief.

like when the sun came out by spaceprincessem/ @spaceprincessem (Canon Divergent, Ghosts | 39K | Mature): Evan gave up trying to explain what happens to him after his parents forced him to have a talk with one of their friends, supposedly a pediatric therapist, and cruelly hinted that if Evan didn’t stop seeing and talking about his “invisible friends” as if they were real then his parents would send him far away to places where they lock children up in padded rooms. “Look,” Evan says quickly, forcing out the words before he gets too scared to speak,” I—I know this is going to sound crazy, but, um, ever since I was a kid I can see ghosts.”

tomorrow will always and forever now be today (tomorrow is our always and forever) by withmeornotatall/ @chronicowboy (Post-S6, Time Loop | 43K | Mature): eddie gets trapped in a time loop on the day buck marries natalia

All My Shattered Oaths by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Vampires AU | 107K | Explicit): Eddie wants to stay away from his family’s legacy and give his son a normal life. Buck’s desperate to find a way to get over the love he lost. Fate has other plans for both of them.

Don't They Know It's the End of the World? by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Fallout 4 AU, Post-Apocalyptic | 32K | Mature | Warning: Violence): After being put in a cryogenic sleep for over a hundred years to wait out an apocalyptic event, Eddie Diaz wakes up, too early, to find his son has been stolen from his cryo-chamber. Scared and alone in a frightening world he doesn't recognize, Eddie is willing to do anything to get his kid back.

but i can see all along, love (it was you all the way down) by diazchristopher/ @captain-hen (Post-S6, Time Loop | 28K Mature): He puts his laptop away after a bit, and paces the length of his apartment as he tries to take stock of the situation at hand. One: The date is March 22nd, 2024. Two: It has been March 22nd for 3 days now. Three: Buck is trapped in some kind of time loop that is forcing him to relive this day. Four: Eddie is, apparently, in love with him. And. And. Five: Buck doesn’t feel the same way.

WIP

And here are my favorite WIP that I really hope will continue to be updated in 2024! 🤞

for all the haunts and homes of men by euadnes/ @kananjarus (Canon Divergent, Post-Apocalyptic, Station Eleven Crossover | WIP | 11/? | 96K | Mature | Warning: Violence): The year by the old calendar is 2025. Home is gone. Home is a failed rescue mission and an echo of a memory. Home is a lost boy living in a wooden house by the sea. But first, there was a promise. Christopher, when it's safe, I'll take you back to your father. Buck had all but given up on keeping it after the world had died and everyone in it. But just as some oaths refuse to be forgotten, so the same can be said about the endurance of love.

Things We're All Too Young to Know by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon, S1 through S6 | 104/? | 283K | Mature): This is a love story. Even if it doesn’t always look like it. Even if it doesn’t always feel like it. A look back on Eddie and Buck's lives up to now, and what led them to each other, interpreted from the current 9-1-1 canon.

Precious & Fragile Things by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Small Miracles AU, Angel Buck | 10/? | 25K | Teen): Buck is the Fallen Angel of Petty Temptation, who has been tasked with tempting human Eddie Diaz to sin and enjoy life, but just a little. He thinks the job will be easy - get in, get out, go back to Peru to continue messing around with eternity. But when Buck arrives in Los Angeles, he finds Eddie is harder to tempt than expected, and more compelling than Buck had hoped.

Right Where You Left Me by hyacinthusbloom/ @thebloomingheather (Canon Divergent, Post-S4, Angst | 89K | 20/? | Explicit | Warning: Rape/Non-con): "Therapy?" Eddie suggests. Buck almost laughs, but instead says, "I'll go if you go." Because he had fully expected him to be chicken shit, to disagree, and instead Eddie, the bastard, replies, "Deal." Or Buck never tells anyone that he slept with his therapist and deals with the butterfly effect years later.

Innocence died screaming, honey, ask me I should know by JJK/ @trenchcoatsandtimetravel (Demon Buck, Canon Divergent | 7/? | 12K | Teen): Buck is a demon with the power to help with pregnancy, childbirth, and infant health. When the Buckleys make a deal asking for someone to help 'save their baby', Buck leaps at the chance as it will give him what he's always wanted: a life on earth. But demon deals are tricky and neither of them gets quite what they're after. This is Buck's journey as he navigates growing up on earth and remembering how to help those in need.

#epic buddie fic rec #buddie #buddie fic rec #buddie fic #buddie fanfic #buddie fanfiction #911 fanfic #911 fic #911 fanfiction #favorites

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starrystormwritings · 10 months ago

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Red Wine

Master List <3 Request List <3 Marauders Master List <3

Remus Lupin x Reader

A/n: I lowkey hate this but it was inspired by the image of Sirius Black loving tequila and me thinking that all the muggle born students watching the others get drunk without it touching them was hilarious. This is based in their 7th year.

Summary: Muggle drinks and muggle drinking games.

Warnings: Drinking, mentions of underaged drinking, swearing, kissing, jealousy, fake ID

Word Count: 2232

(NOT MY GIF)

"Psst! Y/n! Over here!"

I spun my head around to see Christopher Adam's waving me over from the corner of the room, pointing enthusiastically at the plastic bag in his hands.

I smiled back at him and nodded enthusiastically.

"I'll be back now." I said to Sirius, who was spinning me around to the ABBA song playing before Chris had interrupted us.

"What does he want?" He asked with a quirked eyebrow "You got a new boyfriend or something?" He laughed slightly as I rolled my eyes and just walked away from him.

Me and some of the other muggle born students were starting to find these Gryffindor parties boring after the summer.

After partying at home with muggle drinks the classic fire whisky and witches brew just wasn't doing anything for us anymore, as funny as it was watching the pure and half bloods get extremely drunk so fast there's only so many parties you can do sober.

Hence Christopher.

A small group of us had gathered our money together and convinced Chris to use one of his approved trips to visit home to stop by a muggle store and complete a shopping list.

It took us a week to make him a fake ID good enough for him to pass as eighteen.

"So? How'd it go?" I asked, smiling brightly at him as I took the bag out of his hands.

"No hassle with the ID, although I did have to go to four stores so I didn't look suspicious buying this much alcohol for everyone." He rolled his eyes with a laugh.

"You're a lifesaver, we all owe you big time. Thank you!"

He just waved me off and I happily ran back over to the boys with the bag in my arms.

They were all giving the an identical look of speculation as I approached.

"What have you done?" James asked, trying to grab the bag off me before I pulled back.

"Why do you assume such little from me! I've gotten you all presents. Muggle presents actually."

Sirius perked up at that, excitedly shaking Remus's shoulders. Causing him to lean the other way with a smile.

"I'm about to show you all how muggles drink, because fire whisky is nothing in comparison. I've got fuck loads of things to share but I tried to get each of you something I thought you'd like."

"So it's alcohol?" Peter asked, now it was him having to push an excited Sirius away.

"Yep! For you Peter, gin. We don't have any tonic so drink it with lemonade, I think you'll like it though." He smiled widely as I handed him the rounded bottle, quickly opening it to smell it.

"It smells nice?"

"Yeah not all alcohol needs to smell like straight ass." I laughed nodding to the fire whisky in his other hand.

"James I've got you some muggle beers. I genuinely think this will change your life." I said with a laugh, handing him over the six pack as he looked at it bewildered.

"Like butter beer?"

"Kinda? Just a lot less sweet."

He nodded with a smile and popped the top of the bottle off, his smile growing as he tasted it.

"This is alcoholic?"

I laughed at him and turned to Sirius who looked like he was about to explode if I didn't show him what else was in the bag.

"Sirius I got you some tequila. There's some lime and salt on the table over there, you'll want them to take a shot. Lily will show you, she's been looking forward to it all night."

He took the bottle off me with a smirk before quickly hugging me from behind, placing an exaggerated kiss on the side of my face before running off.

"Thank you!"

I laughed at him, and watched James follow after him after a mention of Lily, Peter as always followed behind James.

"I hope you got yourself something, you're way too generous."

Remus said, sitting up on the table next to me with a soft smile.

"Oh don't worry I did." I reached to pull the large bottle from the bag "Some good old fashioned vodka for me."

He laughed at me and sniffed the bottle I held out in front of him, recoiling back.

"It smells horrible." He said with a laugh.

"That's how you know it's strong." I replied, coughing hard as I took a sip from the bottle. "I should probably mix it with some coke."

He laughed at me for a minute, nodding "Yeah, probably a good idea. I'll go get you some."

I placed an arm in front of him as he went to move to stop him.

"Not so quick Lupin, didn't think I'd forget you did I?"

"You didn't have to get me anything." A small blush covered his cheeks, reassuring me that I made the right call with getting him something.

"That's why you're my favourite."

"Wow I always thought Sirius was your favourite." He replied with a chuckle.

"Yeah well don't tell him, it would crush him."

He continued to laugh as I pulled the bottle of red wine out of my bag, passing it over to him.

"I think you'll like it, not as strong as the others but you'll enjoy it."

He looked over the bottle inquisitively.

"Thank you, I'll go pour myself a glass and grab you that coke." He smiled warmly at me, squeezing my knee as he got up.

My eyes followed him across the room, I smiled as I watched him interact with an already drunk Sirius who was shouting about the impressive feat of muggle alcohol.

"You're drooling." Mary said from behind me, causing me to jump and hit her in the arm.

"Shut up."

~~~~~

"So you've all been enjoying the muggle drinks, how about a muggle game to go with it!" Marls shouted from the middle of the room, clearly drunk.

A large group slowly made their way into a circle on the floor as Marls enthusiastically went around the room trying to gather a large enough group.

Remus groaned as I pulled him off the wall he was leaning on and led him towards the floor, an obvious smile on his face.

"Ok so you spin the bottle." She giggled while placing one of James's now empty beer bottles into the middle of the group. "You and whoever it lands on go into the broom cupboard for seven minutes. What happens is there is up to you." She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively whilst laughing as the game began.

As the circle slowly made its way around I found myself hunched over onto Remus in a fit of laughter at Sirius and Peters faces as they came out of the cupboard looking very unamused.

As the group calmed down Sirius took his seat back next to me in the circle and most eyes moved towards me.

I giggled awkwardly before leaning forward and spinning the bottle as hard as I could.

As I lent back and watched it spin I silently prayed that it would land on the boy sat next to me who seemed to be avoiding my eye contact as everyone made a drum roll sound around us.

Much to my dismay instead of landing on Remus the bottle instead pointed towards the one and only James Potter whose face went bright red.

I laughed softly and stood up, watching him as he followed. The room whistling as we made our way into the small space.

If it wasn't gonna land on Remus James would've probably been my second choice, he was to in love with Lily to ever make a move on someone else. And I felt the same way about our best friend.

"So this isn't awkward." I joked with a smile.

He just half way laughed in response.

"Everything okay?" I asked, my eyes adjusting in the dark to make out his figure.

"Yeah it's stupid, Lily's just been avoiding me all night. I know I make a fool of myself for her but sometimes I just wish that she would just look at me." He sighed, leaning against the wall.

"Maybe she is and you're just not seeing?"

"Trust me, I'd see." He sadly laughed and I patted his shoulder comfortingly before getting an idea.

"I've got a way that would get her to look at you."

He turned to look at me with what I guessed was a confused expression.

I reached up to unbutton the first two buttons of his shirt.

"Whoa Y/n what are you doing?"

I laughed slighting at him, shaking my head.

"No I'm not doing that, trust me."

I reached up to ruffle my hand through his hair to make it messier, then moving to untuck one side of his shirt.

"Yeah she'll look at me if I look like shit. Is that the plan?" He laughed slightly and I softly hit him with the back of my hand.

I messed my own hair up as well, also shifting my clothes so they were slightly askew.

"Jealousy is the plan James."

It seemed to click with him then and despite the dark I could see the red blush on his face.

"You really think that'll work?"

"I hate to say it but if one thing will make her notice you, it's thinking that you might've noticed someone else. I'm also really drunk so this might be a bad plan."

He laughed at me, covering his mouth to try and stay quieter.

"I'm drunk enough to give it a go." He responded with a smile.

"Last touch." I reached up to move his glasses to sit crooked on his face with a laugh.

"There, perfect. Let's get you your lady."

As I spoke there was a knock at the door, and a second later Sirius Black swung them open.

"Merlin! Didn't see that happening." He said with a laugh, looking between us in disbelief "I always thought you were into Moony Y/n."

James punched him softly in the arm, shaking his head and I just walked past silently, trying to shake the blush off of my face and hoping everyone was just ignoring the obviously drunk pure blood.

I made my way back over to the circle but before I could sit back down Remus had already stood from his spot next to me and walked out of the common room with his bottle of wine.

~~~~~

I'd been wandering the castle grounds looking for Remus for the last thirty minutes.

The party had died down and everyone was so drunk most of them had passed out by now.

I was buzzed enough that the cold wasn't bothering me but I couldn't for the life of me figure out where Remus would've gone.

I sat on the floor against the railing as I finally got to the top of the astronomy tower, the vodka and the amount of stairs I just climbed had knocked the wind out of me.

"Y/n?"

A familiar voice said from next to me, making me jump.

"Jesus, I've been looking for you." I smiled at him but he only held my eye contact for a second before looking back out to the night sky.

"You disappeared, it got boring without you."

He laughed slightly and shook his head, his cheeks turning a shade of pink.

"I'm sure it was fine without me. You and James sure didn't look bored." He chuckled awkwardly making me quirk an eyebrow at him.

"What? Me and James?"

He just nodded, avoiding my eyes.

"James definitely isn't bored, Lily's been all over him all night." I laughed softly and he just looked at me inquisitively.

"Aren't you upset by that?"

"Upset? Why would I be upset? Honestly I think it's a miracle."

He laughed slightly at that and finally looked back over to me.

"But you and James were snogging each other? Was that just a joke or something?"

I just looked at him confused for a second before breaking out into giggles.

"Oh you didn't actually think we did that? Gross no! I just thought that it would make Lily jealous. It worked by the way."

He seemed to think for a second before a small smile finally made its way onto his face.

"Oh, so you didn't actually kiss him?"

I snorted, covering my face quickly in embarrassment.

"No no, I just messed up his hair and unbuttoned his shirt a little. He's not my type."

Remus laughed quietly at that, relaxing a little.

"Good."

I nudged him lightly with my elbow, sliding over to sit next to him, bumping our knees together.

"Careful Lupin it almost feels like you're jealous."

He just looked at me for a second, a little smile on his face as he moved to stand up, offering me his hand.

"Maybe I was." He chuckled softly and pulled me to my feet as I just looked at him dazed.

"C'mon I'll walk you back to your dorm." He threaded our fingers together and went to walk but I didn't move.

"I wanted the bottle to land on you, for the record."

We both stood there for a second, just looking at each other before he grabbed my chin softly and lent down.

I never really liked the taste of red wine until that night.

#x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #harry potter #marauders x reader #sirius black #marauders #marauders era #hogwarts #james potter #reader insert #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x slytherin!reader #remus x reader #remus lupin

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devildomwriter · 10 months ago

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“…Excuse me? You don’t know TSL? And you call yourself a human?! Just how clueless ARE you?! How could you not know?! Just the fact that you don’t know TSL alone is proof that you’ve been wasting your life! So, I’m going to do you a favor and teach you about TSL. Make sure you pay attention! The Tale of the Seven Lords, otherwise known as TSL, is a series of fantasy novels written by Christopher Peugeot. It’s a heroic epic spanning 138 volumes, and it’s the most widely-read fantasy series in the world. There are even theatrical versions, an animated series, and feature films, too. And it’s been translated into a total of 182 different languages. The 1990s theatrical version was an utter disaster, owing to the fact that they added several characters that were NOT present in the original manuscript. At the time I was like, “this producer totally needs to crawl into a hole and die!” But then the 2015 version came out, and it was AMAZING! Better than amazing! If you ask me, it showed that needlessly cramming a female lead in there alongside Henry was a bad idea. That’s not what he needs. What he NEEDS is a friend who really understands him, and the 2015 version proved that.

Also, the most vital element of the story is that each of the Seven lords is so unique. They’re all so interesting in their own peculiar way. That’s what makes TSL so great! The lords are all brothers…the oldest is called the Lord of Corruption. He doesn’t come across as being so bad at first, but he’s always plotting and planning in secret. The second oldest is the Lord of Fools, a scumbag who’ll do anything for money. The third oldest is called the Lord of Shadow, a brooding recluse. The fourth oldest is known as the Lord of Masks. He masquerades as a high-status, upstanding member of society, but underneath it all, he’s an inhumane monster. The fifth oldest, the Lord of Lechery, only ever thinks of sex. The sixth oldest is the Lord of Flies, and he only ever thinks of food. The seventh oldest, called the lord of Emptiness. He’s weird…you never know what’s running through his head! It seems most people like the oldest lord, the lord of corruption, the best. Everyone always talks about how great he is. But not me. I like the third Lord way more. Of course, I like Henry too. He’s the protagonist. He’s almost as great as the third lord. The second Lord is total scum, a hopeless degenerate that leads a life of extravagance and indulgence. He’s always causing trouble for the third lord. He’s got these magical pigs that can give birth to solid gold piglets, and he treasures them above all else. So Henry goes and talks to the pigs, and using his wit and powers of persuasion, he convinces them to leave with him. Then, he leads every last one of them away, and presents them to the third lord as a gift! Wow…I mean, they’re SUCH GOOD FRIENDS you can almost feel it! It’s enough to make you cry! Oh, and then there’s that one really awesome moment when the two of them realize they both like and respect each other, and they high-five! I just LOVE that part, you know? I wish I could have a moment like that. …I wish I could be like the third lord. I may be a recluse like him, but we’re totally different, because he’s got an amazing friend like Henry. Check it out. See that goldfish in the fish tank there? He’s actually named Henry. I love TSL so much that I couldn’t help naming him after the main character. But I cant really high-five a goldfish, can I?

The original author of TSL, Christopher Peugeot, he’s actually a human, you know? That’s why I’m so jealous of you guys. Humans are so lucky, you’ve got subscription services that let you watch your favorite anime anytime, you can go to Akihabara whenever you want… Why do only you guys get to experience all the good stuff? I mean, humans’ whole concept of pleasure originally came from us demons, you know? We gave it to you. So, why can’t we have a little bit of it back now, huh? I mean, I want to be able to go to a Japanese maid café, too. I want to hear the maids welcome me as if I’m the master of the house, and have them draw ketchup hearts on my fried rice omelette, to experience the magic of it all. I want to cosplay as Henry, and then go stand in the center of Akihabara, or maybe that one building in Tokyo that’s shaped like upside-down triangles. And once I’m there, I want to perform Henry’s super-powerful signature finishing move for all to see and say the incantation that goes with it. I want to shout it at the top of my lungs!...Actually you know what? I want to BE Henry.”

— Leviathan’s longest TSL rant (Chapter 1-13)

#literally the rant was so long I had to break it up because tumblr wouldn’t let me post it all together #obey me shall we date #obey me quote #obey me quote of the day #obey me leviathan #obey me leviasim #obey me tsl #obey me leviathan quotes #obey me chapter 1 #obey me volume one

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newobsessionweekly · 2 years ago

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You are home

Main masterlist | 9-1-1 masterlist

Eddie Diaz x fem!reader Fandom: 9-1-1

Summary: You are kidnapped and locked into a basement until Eddie comes to your rescue.

A/N: still a bit rusty, no hate please. remember, english is not my first language so please be kind 🫶🏻 also feel free to request anything for Eddie and Buck, happy to write. Requests are open for Buck / Eddie!

Warnings: Mention of being held captive, sexual abuse, injuries, swearing.

BTHB prompt: shackled feet

Requested: No Words: 2.4k Gif not mine, credits to the owner.

You can hear the rain harshly knocking on the ground, wind whistling through the thin walls and the fear sweating from your body with every breath, with every step, with every heartbeat. It was nothing down there but you, a table, a plate and a spoon.

Eddie constantly feels the need to punch something. No boxing bag was ever enough. He feels something is going on. He knows you wouldn’t leave him just like that, without a reason. Without a note. Without a goodbye. Eddie has been left before, he knows now how to recognise the signs leading to that. And this isn’t the case. You were happy together. You loved each other over the heels for God’s sake. You were about to move in with Eddie and Christopher, you didn’t had a reason to leave, right ?

“Ok, Eddie, you need to stop!” Buck pops right in the middle of his thoughts and scatters them all over the place. He stopped Eddie a little too late, his fists were already covered in what seemed to be blood diluted in sweat and a few traces of tears. “It’s not helping. Been there once, didn’t help better to speak with your mouth rather than your fists?”

“What do you wanna hear me say ? Y/n loved me. Y/n wouldn’t leave me. Y/n would’ve called or texted. Something happened to her. You’ve heard all of this already and you’ve told me I’m nuts.” Eddie sighs and let his body drop violently on the bench inside changing room.

“You tried calling her?” Chimney asks.

“What do you think?” Your boyfriend hisses under his breath. Eddie knows they’re all just trying to help, but he can’t help it.

He’s just trying to figure out what is going on, but it’s been like hell this past week without you. Next day, Eddie listens to Athena’s advice and declare you missing.

The air is heavy and wet due to the water that’s been infiltrating first intro the ceiling then trickling down into the walls. It is hard to breath and even harder to keep your sanity at peace, you’re losing it slowly.

You touched the walls desperately trying to find a way out. Over and over again you’ve been tracing the uneven surfaces hoping the walls would somehow turn into a door that will open up and reveal Eddie. You were convinced by know you’ll die in that filthy place without everyone knowing what has happened.

Your nails scratched the wall with anger and it crumbled at your feet. Noticed they were all soaked in water and it was easier to get through them, but not easy enough. Maybe the roof was weaker than the walls and it was easier that way.

Carefully, you move the table closer to the wall and jump up, scratching the ceiling little by little with the metal spoon. Bad move giving the kidnapped person a metal object.

The water is coming down your elbow hitting the not so white plate in an annoying rhythm. Hours flew by now as you’ve found yourself a purpose to fight for your life. Little by little, the whole in the wall contoured into a way to escape. By now, only your arm could pierce the concrete and hit the cold outside air. But you’re not giving up, not yet.

A 911 call from a concerned neighbour opens Athena’s way to a small, decent house and a very well dressed man appears in the doorway.

“Sergeant Grant, LAPD.” Athena presents herself, showing the man her badge. “We’ve been informed by one of your neighbours about a hand sticking out from the ground in your yard.” she presents the case and inspects every move the well dressed man does. “Mind if we take a look?”

The man’s face is still, no emotion showing up, only the thoughts loudly echoing through his head. “Not at all, Sargent. Do what you have to do.”

Athena searches the house, but found nothing that could make her question. As halloween approaches really fast, she thought maybe the elegant man was into it so much he decided to start prepping in time. She tries the door leading to the basement, facing the impossibility to get past that.

“You have the keys to that door?” Athena turns around to the man watching her every step.

“Do you have a warrant to search my house?” the man plays the card very well.

“I’m gonna take a look around the house.” she announces and the man standing before her eyes just nodded.

Athena’s eyes lands on a patch of grass that is missing not so far from the house. She inspects it closely seeing a hole go down in the ground, maybe a few inches.

She keeps her mouth shut, carefully making her way to the car. Athena is convinced now something’s going on. A man’s house so tidy without a single thing raising suspicions. Basement door locked. A hole in the ground.

“Thank you for your time. Have a nice day!” She greeted the man driving off the street as another case pops up through her station.

You rest your head on the wall, inhaling the fresh morning air coming through the little opening in the ceiling. Your body was shaking because of the cold that made its way into the tiny room and also because your clothes were not even covering much.

He’d come every morning and night into the room, feed you some delicious food, but not enough, just for you to survive.

You heard footsteps approaching the door and some keys ringing as the brown haired man walked empty handed. You tried moving as far away as possible, all you could do was drag your body just a few inches before collapsing on the ground.

The legcuffs were making hard for you to move around since the first day, but now it feels like you’re pinned to the ground.

The man’s eyes were already filled with anger, but as soon as he saw the picture before his eyes, his features darkened even more, rage railing down his veins.

“Bitch, what did you do?” he approaches you, loudly unbelting his trousers. “That’s how you show me respect? For feeding you, for pleasing you. That’s how you thank me?” his thick belt furiously touched your cheek. A painful burn made your skin instantly go red and ache run through your cheek, tears unintentionally flowing down.

“I’m so sorry! I’m really really sorry!” you cried. “I couldn’t breathe, I-I needed some air. Please, I’m not trying to do anything.” you pleaded as he grabbed you thighs, pulling you closer. Your head loudly smacked into the hard concrete floor, dizziness blocking your vision for a few seconds. Too little time and the show had just began.

You beg God to take you right in that moment, so all the pain, the suffering could go away with just a blink. But as usual, your luck was not on your side.

All you can see is the water sliding down as two hands spreads you legs and made their way up. One hand harshly rubs you entrance as the other one massages your breasts one at the time. Your only desire is for you to leave your body just right there and move away. You hoped his stupid show was over now and your tears were finally coming to an end.

You quickly learned it was easier if you didn’t fight back. But all he wants is a response from you, see you fight for your life, see your terrified eyes begging him to stop. He’s getting angrier second by second as you didn’t even flinch when he made his way inside you. You just stood there, eyes closed slowly consciousness leaving you.

Athena stays beside Bobby at firefighter’s table, looking between faces. Concerned, sad faces she’s way too familiar with. You vanishing like that from their lives messed up with everyone’s head. She shares with the rest of the group the strange call she received that morning, and the even strange images she’s seen.

“What’s the address?” Eddie asks. He’s got a little bit of hope now, he thinks he really got a lead. But that’s what he thought the whole week when he’d been seeing your face everywhere.

“Uh-huh! You not going there-” Athena says. Eddie already stood up ready to search every yard in LA and around. “All by yourself! I’m parked in the back.” She rolls her eyes as Eddie dressed up while walking to the car.

“I guess you done eating!” Athena turns to Buck still chewing on his food. She knows they are inseparable, especially now when it’s about you.

Eddie jumps out of the car as soon as Athena shows him the house. The red SUV was gone now along with the brown haired man. The fire truck stations just around the corner and behind it, Hen is parking the paramedic truck. Just in case.

“That’s the hole i’ve been telling you about.”

Eddie shoved his flashlight down to the hole seeing the concrete floor just beneath.

“Ok there’s clearly something down there. Maybe a room? The basement. Not sure if there’s anyone in there.” He informed.

“There’s a pretty big hole, the rain couldn’t do that. The ground looks stable, no signs of collapsing.” Buck thinks out loud.

A bright light blinds you for a moment, but before you had time to come into senses, it disappeared like it was never there. You can’t move, you barely can open your eyes properly, but you hear voices so damn familiar.

It’s all in my head. It’s all a dream. Am I dead ? No, i’m still here. I wish I was dead.

You feel pain from head to toe, your body starts shaking violently because of the ice cold wind that’s coming from the hole.

The hole. I have to do something.

You try to stand up, ignoring the painful ache vibrating through your chest, but slipping down again on the blood that keeps flowing out of you. At the contact with the hard floor, you hear a loud crack as a scream left your mouth unintentionally. Blood is pouring down your arm and you feel dizzy again, the dark room in spinning.

Mumbling are hearing from above you, voices becoming clearer as the footsteps approaches.

“Is anyone down there ?” one of the voices shouts before the light coming down the hole floods the room.

“Help!” that’s all you can say, not sure if the voices heard you.

“Guys, there’s someone down there! They don’t sound very much alive. Hey, are you hurt?” it is speaking to you as some footsteps hurried away.

“Yes. There… much blood.” you try to speak as loud as you can, but in this moment it was even hard to breath.

“Can you move?” you look back at the spot on the ceiling where grass and pieces of concrete falls down on the floor.

“Not sure.”

Your eyes closes, you feel tired. Maybe it was your time. It was just a dream anyway, no one’s coming for you.

Annoying beeping wake you up from a sweet dream. You dreamed of some kind of hero save you from that filthy place.

As you open your eyes, slowly coming to senses, a white and bright light burned your eyes. The pain you’ve felt before is gone and you feel like you’re staying on top of the comfiest cloud. You can effortlessly breath now as you inspect the room. It was white and smell funny. A brown hair is standing next to the big window.

The man turns his head towards you when the machine’s beeping became alert. You close your eyes in fear as tears running down your face.

“Please don’t hurt me, i’ll be good, I promise. I’m not trying anything.” you cried when a big warm hand touched your arm.

“Y/n, it’s Eddie.” the voice you recognise spoke, but you can’t believe. “Please look at me.” his hand was still there, moving up and down your arm in a calming way. It feels familiar to you. The voice is familiar. Even the smell you recognise.

You slowly open your eyes showing up the most beautiful eyes you’ve ever seen, flooded with tears and pain. A small smile crack in the corner of his mouth.

“Babe, it’s me. You’re home now.” seeing Eddie in flesh and bones made your tears violently flow down you cheeks. You are dreaming again. “Please don’t cry, it’s not good for you. You’re safe now, you’re with me. Nothing bad will happen.”

You pull Eddie into a tight hug taking both of you by surprise. You trace the shape of his face with you trembling fingers as he inspected every feature. You are pale, weak, your body covered in scratches and bruises. Red and purple marks are painted all over you but he didn’t care. You’re next to him again and that all that matters.

He leans on and closes your lips with his in a soft, sweet kiss you only dreamed of the past few weeks. You missed his gentle touch, the way your lips merge together perfectly, the way his hand caressed yours or the way his soft red lips curved in a bright smile every time he kisses you.

“I’m home.” you cried. “You found me.”

“I found you babe, I will always find you. You’re never leaving my side again.” he jokes, but a little truth is hiding behind his words.

“Y/n!” a voice followed by small rushing footsteps echoed in the room, breaking your embrace. Christopher run to your bed and Eddie helpt him jump up next to you. “I missed you so much!”

“Hey buddy! I’m missed you too!” you caressed his head, placing a soft kiss on his forehead.

“You promised me we’d do a sleepover!” Chris pleaded.

“We’ll do every night a sleepover until you’ll get tired of me! How that sounds?” you look over at Eddie that now is smiling at the picture showing before his eyes, two of the most beloved people in his life back right next to him.

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