@pollutedstar - Tumblr Blog

I am starting the NCU (Nick Cinematic Universe) I’ve decided. Most of my Marvel fics take place in the same universe, so I’m just going to put them all together in a series. I’ll keep a running list of alterations I make to Marvel’s canon in this post. This is the

Official NCU Post

#my writing #marvel #I’m working on a lot of new projects within this timeline so #figured I’d put them all together in this project!

Dreams You'd Like To Sell

Chapter 1

“Not everything is about Buck! Chris is my priority. Always. It’s not even a competition.”

That makes her pause. “Well, speaking as someone who left her partner for the sake of our daughter, it’s not supposed to feel like one.”

It knocks the breath out of him, hearing it from someone else.

“It’s not just about Buck, you’re right,” she tells him, sitting down in the chair beside his bed and curling up as much as she can, exhaustion seeming to sink into her bones. “Or even just about Chris. It’s about you, Eddie. Because I’ve been there. That feeling, like your heart is about to burst out of your chest, like you just need to run and never look back? I tried to drown myself just to get away from it. But it won’t leave unless you turn around and face it. Don’t you think you owe yourself that much? A look in the mirror?”

#911 #my writing #buddie

Since it's taking me a million years to finish the coma part 2 fic, have an excerpt

Buck rolls his eyes. “It’s your house. Chris is only just getting settled again. I’ll… I’ll find a new place. Won’t be that hard. Just need a studio or something, a year lease while I find something more permanent.”

Eddie pauses. “Don’t feel like you need to rush out of here, Buck.”

Stay curled up with me in a bed we share that smells like the both of us while the kid you’ve raised for eight years or two months depending on who you ask sleeps down the hall in the bed you helped me build for him. Make me breakfast in the morning and bring me water when I’m too tired to get up and kiss my aches and share my clothes and rub my back when it’s sore from a shit 48 and listen to me moan from the relief of it like you sometimes do in the bunk rooms out of sight from everyone who knows us. Lie with me, baby.

He’s not an idiot. He knows what Eddie’s saying. Knows what he’s being offered on a silver platter: an extension on the life he’s gotten to take this summer, a temporary leave of absence from reality where the two of them share a bed and wake up curled inside each other’s arms like they did in quarantine, when Buck had deluded himself for weeks and weeks that this was what they could have, if they wanted, they just had to say it aloud, until Eddie declared he was moving out to his own home, his own life again, because of course he was. It wasn’t even a competition. Buck had never really expected it to be, not between him and Chris, because if he’s being honest with himself, between Eddie and Chris, it’s no competition for him either if some awful, vile thing decided he could only have one. But between the loneliness of a half-empty house and a life with Buck, he thought it would be harder for Eddie to leave than it was. He keeps getting everything he wants for slivers of time before he gets to go back to the way of the world, stealing moments from other people’s families he likes to think are almost his.

“I wouldn’t want to make things weird for you and Chris. Especially since…”

“Right,” Eddie says, mouth tight.

“But I’ll be here to help you settle again, alright? And don’t pull any of your macho, I-don’t-need-any-help bullshit. I’ve got the magic word: coma. Pretty hard to argue with.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. Did Eddie pick that up from him? Did Chris pick it up from Eddie? Is there some string of behaviors, of aggravating mannerisms, that Buck gets to claim has some basis in him?

“But seriously,” Eddie tells him. “You’re not sleeping on the couch. It’s shitty, you said so yourself.”

“I’ll get an air mattress or something. Haul it in here so you don’t have to sleep alone.”

Eddie studies him for a moment, and it makes Buck want to pull the blanket over his head. “You know it’s not… I’m not gonna be weird about it now that you’re, um… out of the closet, you know? I hope you know I wouldn’t—”

“No, no, Eddie, of course not, I know that. You’ve been… you’ve always been great about my sexuality. I didn’t think there was any, like… weirdness. I mean, I guess, if there is or something, I—”

“There isn’t,” Eddie says firmly, and it echoes in Buck’s brain like it doesn’t change anything. The thing is—he’d kinda thought it would.

#buddie #911 #my writing

pollutedstar

when the buddie coma fic part 2 is released...

pollutedstar

um well. i got a little annoyed at the finale. but it is almost complete and here's a little snippet of the opening as a silly little treat

Christopher was an accident. That’s not a secret to anyone, not even the kid himself. No one plans for a baby at that age, let alone a baby who suspiciously comes a little too close to his parents’ nine month wedding anniversary. That’s fine, because Shannon stayed up with him well into the nights he had nightmares, and Eddie fought for him to have a spot in one of the best schools in the state, and Buck slogged through a tsunami to save his life, and even his grandparents wanted him so much they tried to take him. When Eddie was born, there had been carefully laid plans. There had been doctor’s appointments and baby showers and a room done in blues, not to mention a savings bond and a college fund that ended up going towards a different expense at nineteen, and plans for him to get a degree and predictions of his career and his beautiful wife all before he’d even been born. He was a week late, and it broke his mother’s heart a little because she’d been so excited to meet him, had planned for his first breath for so long. Eddie Diaz was not an accident. He was just a mistake.

#911 #buddie #my writing

when the buddie coma fic part 2 is released...

#i'll drop it before the new ep so i don't have to adjust anything for canon as is my way

<3 ur writing! binged ALL your fics on ao3 today :)

Oh wow!!! Thank you so much, that’s so lovely!!! ❤️

#🥺

Is anybody else consistently haunted by the Eddie Diaz version of “Florida!!!” That lives in their heads or just me.

#PACK YOUR BAGS AWAY JUST TO WAIT OUT THE SHIT STORM BACK IN TEXAS #idk #buddie #911

flimsy-spine

hold on to the memories, they will hold on to you.

rainscenes

(I THINK THAT MUCH IS OBVIOUS.)

paiigemahoney

9-1-1 | Hen & Chimney "And thanks for following me down that hillside." "The first of many, I'm sure."

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Buck thinks that if anyone says anything about Eddie being gone today he’ll run into a collapsing building just to make them feel bad. He also thinks that if no one says anything about Eddie being gone today he’ll take a firehose and blast himself in the face just to feel something.

“Hey Buck,” Hen greets, the first person he passes on the way in. Chim’s coming in late, taking some time with Maddie and Jee before Maddie goes to her first day back. Bobby had approved it before Chim had even asked. Ravi’s filling in for Eddie for a couple of shifts before they have someone regular on the team, but it seems like he’s had the good sense to hide out somewhere far away from Buck today.

Buck doesn’t want to be an asshole, he doesn’t, but he hasn’t had any coffee and his teeth are buzzing, which doesn’t even make sense but if he said it to Eddie he’d have known to go get the darkest roast they had in the station and bring it to him black. He wants his partner back. He wants his fucking kid back. He wants a break.

The bell rings before he’s even fully changed.

#buddie #911 #my writing #sometimes you have to be the buddie car crash coma fic you want to see in the world

“Maybe she felt like she was missing out on a life she could have had, if she’d been born someone else or made different choices. Don’t you wonder about stuff like that?”

Eddie had taken a drink of his water, steadied his voice, and shrugged. “Not really.”

Not much of a point.

What Cannot Be Said Will Be Wept

#911 #911 abc #buddie #eddie diaz #my writing