on hiatus ; return tbd

SY ; THEY ; TWENTY - SIX

[buckieys]

hiiii i’m back (i forgot about this tbh).

mostly came back to tell y’all that i’m writing a carlos/tk/buck/eddie foursome story! it’s on ao3. it’s called Mafia Brat

i hope y’all enjoy it. just, read the tags

[maxbegone]

Actually this is the only thing that matters.

[tkstrandsource]

I don’t really have a choice. Yes you do.

9-1-1: LONE STAR 2.08 → 3.08

[ronensass]

tk strand + text posts (3/?)

tags: @sapphire11 @detectivecarlosreyes @safeashousespdf @marzzinaa @losttttt

[usersiren]

EXPLICIT ♡ 9K ♡ BUDDIE

Of course he’s immediately wary of it. Porn videos have never worked for Eddie, so why would the audio version of them be any different? It’s the same strangers faking the same moans and whines as the other actors, just without a pretty face to go with it. Eddie thinks it’ll almost be less effective—seeing every tiny reaction that someone has to what you’re doing to them is part of the fun—so he doesn’t have high expectations. He doesn’t expect it to work.

READ ON AO3

[firstdegreefangirl]

9 & chenford. yes. yes, i love it.

also, hear me out: 22 & tarlos

22+Tarlos: seeing something in the store that reminds you of them; then buying it immediately

You'll get the Chenford one later, hopefully sometime today, but here's Tarlos ft. the allergy we discussed last night. Enjoy, bestie!

--

“Hey, babe.” TK pushes the door open with one foot, turning sideways to fit himself and two arms laden with plastic shopping bags into the house. “Grocery shopping is done.” 

“Thanks,” Carlos looks up from the kitchen table, where he’s thumbing through one of the cookbooks Owen had given them as a housewarming present. “You know, there’s not a single recipe in here I think either one of us would both make and eat. It’s all Tahitian vanilla and truffles and home-harvested … Cornish game hens.” 

“Yeah, his cookbooks tend to be more for conversation starting than actually cooking.” 

“Well then it’s served its purpose.” Carlos closes the book and stands, moving to take some of the bags from TK. “Here, I’ll help.” 

“It’s OK, I’ve got it,” TK pulls his arm back until the bags are out of Carlos’ reach.  

“I don’t mind,” Carlos tries again.  

“Fine, you can take …" TK peers into a few of the sacks before he hands them over. “These ones.” 

“What’s in the others?” Carlos starts unloading TK’s yogurt cups into the fridge. 

“Groceries.” 

“I figured that much.” He wants to laugh, but he can’t tell if TK is being silly or if there’s something bigger going on, so he refrains. “Any particular reason I can’t help with them?” 

“I don’t know which bag she put your surprise in.” TK is rummaging through the remaining bags, piling groceries on the counter instead of putting them away. 

“My surprise?”  

“I found … it’s not much, but I saw it, and I thought of you and … here!” TK raises his arm in triumph, a bright blue wrapper sticking out either end of his fist. He drops his hand toward Carlos, unfurling his fingers to reveal -- 

“An Almond Joy? You saw an Almond Joy and thought of me?” 

“Yeah, because it's nuts how much joy you bring me!” TK grins and Carlos can’t help but smile back. 

“But you bought me an Almond Joy?”  

“Yeah, because it made me think of you.” 

“Because I bring you joy?” 

“Yeah!” 

“And not because I’m allergic to almonds?” TK’s face falls, and Carlos almost regrets saying it. But if he hadn’t spoken up, he knows he’d have ended up eating the candy bar, and he has no interest in spending the next week scratching at hives.   

“Oh. Uh, I didn’t … I swear I didn’t forget! I just … wasn’t thinking about it? That sounds terrible.” TK winces, “I know you’re allergic; I was just so excited about the joke that I didn’t think about there being almonds in it.” 

“In an … Almond Joy?” TK grimaces again. 

“I love you?”  

Carlos rolls his eyes, but closes the space between them, winding his arms around TK’s waist and pulling him in until their stomachs are pressed together.  

“I love you too,” he kisses TK softly, then reaches behind himself with one arm to pull the candy bar from TK’s grasp and toss it blindly across the kitchen. “Now get that thing away from me.” 

[maxbegone]

whatcha doin’, bud?

[raypakorn]

911 lone star : s3 + ao3 tags (part 4/?)

[actuallysara]

911LoneStar: Monday's season finale will be... jaw-dropping. 😳 #911LoneStar

[tkstrandsource]

— Victoria Erickson, Edge of Wonder

(insp.)

[ronensass]

don't be suspicious, don't be suspicious

tags: @chaotictarlos @marzzinaa @isastrxnd @sapphire11 @safeashousespdf @detectivecarlosreyes

[evanzbuck]

1.07 vs 3.14

↳ for @reyescarlos

[roseapothecary]

1K CELEBRATION— a gift ❤ for @danieljradcliffe

TK Strand + the racoon meme | [insp]

[kalemakar]

for my bestie thai ( @strandtk​ ) because even tho we’ve been friends for over a year my legacy to her is gonna be this: 

tl;dr: 

tk is still a k*nky mofo

[evanzbuck]

2.08 vs 3.12 → for @pragmatic-optimist

[trkstrnd]

“i was gonna steal it and get so high that nothing mattered.”

flash warning

[userautumn]

the bullet in my gun

Summary:

Let’s talk about Buck, Frank had said at the beginning of the session. But that’s only a fraction of the whole, isn’t it? Let’s talk about the ache in your mouth, and the bullet in your gun, and the way you never seem to run out of enough ammunition to spatter your brain apart. Let’s talk about the hollowness in your throat, and the vacancy in your eyes, and the way your chest rises and falls without you taking a single breath. Let’s talk about the home you’ve built and the life you've created and the way you never seem to fully occupy any of it. Let’s talk about living first and loving later, and see where it goes from there. or; eddie goes to therapy (inspired by the 5x11 promo)

"So, let's talk about Buck," Frank says.

Buck.

One word, a trigger. One word that Eddie has held in his mouth like a candy from his Abuela’s purse, like a prayer poured forth from on his knees in the sands of Afghanistan. One word that Eddie has sighed, and screamed, and laughed, and cherished like he entered the world knowing the shape of it.

Let’s talk about Buck, like there are enough minute hands on the clock, like there are enough words in the dictionary.

Eddie raises his hand to reach for the water at his side. Pauses. Drops it.

Careful with that body, boy. People will see everything you don’t want them to.

He shrugs. Checks his face in the mental mirror he keeps in his brain at all times. Eyebrows straight, mouth thin, eyes blank.

Brick wall. Brick wall. Brick wall.

“What about him?”

“Well, you tell me." Frank flips through his notes—whether for show or for reference, Eddie’s not sure—and taps his pen against his lip. “March 18th, you said ‘Buck, we—I talked to him the other day, but that was it’ when I asked if you’d spoken to anyone from your previous job and then you never mentioned him again.” Frank looks up. “It just feels like there’s something we aren’t talking about here.”

read the rest on ao3