it is perhaps a little sacrilegous to reduce trample out the days to the line bury my heart at the rodeo but. i did it anyway
this is for all my cowboy eddie girlies 🫶🏻 and for anyone who actually knows things about rodeo: i am so sorry i googled my best
Later, Buck will deny the way Eddie tells the story.
All I had to do was get on a horse, Eddie will say. That’s all it took.
And Buck will blush and grin and insist it was more than that, but—
That’s kind of the gist of it.
What happens is this: the LAFD announces the theme for their annual fundraiser, and Buck loses his mind. (There are some steps in between, but those are the broad strokes of it.)
Through some quirk of fate, some accident of the universe—a universe, Buck has long since decided, that gets off on mocking him—the theme of this year’s fundraiser is rodeo.
—
At first, this doesn’t seem like a problem. Buck is ready to laugh it off like he does every year, to make a perfunctory effort towards a costume, man whatever booth Bobby tells him to, and laugh about it with Eddie later.
Then Eddie opens his mouth, and says something that makes the entire long table in the firehouse loft get whiplash turning to look at him.
“I used to ride rodeo.”
Hen blinks, several times in quick succession. Chimney makes a strangled noise. Buck drops his spoon.
It splashes back into his bowl of cereal, but everyone is too focused on Eddie to notice.
“Please,” Chimney says, propping his chin in his hands like a teenage girl in a high school movie. “Do elaborate.”
“Not professionally or anything,” Eddie says. “But it was offered at my high school. Just gymkhana and stuff.”
“Oh, sure,” Hen says. “Just gymkhana. Okay.”
“Some people played football,” Eddie shrugs. “It’s not that different.”
“Not that different,” Ravi echoes. “Yeah, I can’t see any difference. Definitely not the horses or anything.”
“Other people ride horses,” Eddie tries to protest.
“But not in the rodeo,” Chimney says.
“That’s what I’m saying,” Eddie says. He shoots Buck a look that might be saying help me, but Buck’s too distracted by the thought of Eddie on horseback to react. “I was never in the rodeo. Gymkhana was like—I don’t know, rec league. The events I rode aren’t even in real rodeos.” He grins. “Or—barrel racing is, but professionally that’s women only.”
“None of this is helping you get out of this, Edmundo,” Hen says, and Eddie glares at her. “I’m sure they’ll find something for you to do.”
She looks to Bobby and they all follow, turning to see a grin spreading across his face.
“Yeah,” he says. “I’m sure they will.”
—
And so Buck finds himself in a locker room just off the field at some small-town rodeo arena just outside of Los Angeles, watching Eddie pace back and forth in well-worn Wranglers and a faded flannel shirt.
“Is this a bad idea?” Eddie mutters, then shakes his head. “Of course it’s a bad idea, god, I haven’t chased the cans in over a decade—”
Buck knows he should reassure Eddie, try to talk him off this ledge, but—
This is a version of Eddie he hasn’t even known to dream of.
A version of Eddie who looks like he could have stepped off the cover of a western, who keeps mumbling words that Buck understands separately but not in the combinations he deploys them in. A version of Eddie who is about to mount a horse and race it around the barrels in front of the entire LAFD and everyone who’s turned out to support them.
This is a version of Eddie that makes it hard for Buck to remember that thinking about Eddie is not something he does. Is not something he can do, not without spiralling into visions of a future he can never have.
Buck has long since learned how to quiet those thoughts, how to tuck them between his ribs and lock them away. He’s made his peace with the fact that Eddie is his friend. But it seems his immunity doesn’t extend to a version of Eddie who rides in rodeos.
“Buck?” Eddie asks, and when Buck looks up, there’s something vulnerable in his eyes. Eddie opens his mouth, his features crouched on the edge of a question—
And there’s a knock on the door. “You’re up next, cowboy,” Chimney calls, barely disguised glee in his voice.
“I—that’s me,” Eddie says. “I’d better—”
“Yeah,” Buck says.
Their eyes meet, and something passes between them. Something Buck can’t identify, like every time he tries to make its shape out, it shifts just out of reach.
“Will you watch?” Eddie asks.
Buck blinks. “Of course,” he says. Then: “Cowboy,” tacked on just a little too late to be natural.
Eddie grins, a little tight around the edges.
“You’ll be fine,” Buck says, softer now. “I’m sure riding a horse is just like—uh. Like riding a bike.”
That gets a laugh out of Eddie, though he shakes his head. “It’s really not,” he says. “But I’ve come down here to practice a few times. To get to know the horse. So she gets used to me.”
“See?” Buck says. “You’ll be fine.”
Then Chimney knocks again, and Eddie squares his shoulders and heads out of the room.
Buck makes his way to the edge of the field. He’s right by the starting line, perfectly positioned to see it when Eddie bursts out of the alley astride a beautiful chestnut horse, racing past the timer beam and towards the first barrel.
The race itself is fast—barely twenty seconds after Eddie started, he’s cantering back in the opposite direction and crossing the finishing line. The electronic scoreboard in the corner beeps, updating the times, but Buck doesn’t look up to see how Eddie placed. His eyes are glued to Eddie, to the slight gleam of sweat along his forehead and the way muscles ripple under his jeans as he slows the horse down. He notices Buck watching, and he—
Eddie winks, and Buck’s mouth goes dry.
He starts heading for the alley before his brain quite catches up with his feet, weaving his way along the edge of the field until he makes it to where Eddie is dismounting.
(Buck would like to say he doesn’t stare at Eddie’s ass while he does, but he isn’t quite that shameless a liar.)
Eddie pats the horse’s neck and murmurs something, then hands the reins to someone hovering by the side. He turns to face Buck, exhilaration written clear across his face. “Did you see?”
“Yeah,” Buck says, with a grin of his own. “Eddie, that was—”
Then he takes a breath. “I need you to know that this isn’t just about the horse,” he says, and grabs the front of Eddie’s shirt, pulling him in for a kiss.
Eddie stands frozen for only a fraction of a second before his hands find Buck’s waist, pulling him impossibly close. He makes a muffled noise against Buck’s mouth, and it takes a moment for Buck to realise it’s a laugh.
“Not just about the horse, huh?” Eddie murmurs when Buck pulls back with a questioning look.
Buck laughs. “Full disclosure, it’s a little bit about the horse,” he admits. “But it’s mostly about you.”
“Good,” Eddie says, smiling softly. “Because this is about you.” And he leans in for another kiss.
five years ago, harry styles left his tiny home town to make it big as a recording artist. he didn't have much regard for what he left behind - a life, a family, and a husband, who woke up one morning to find him gone.
now, harry has everything he could possibly want: he's rich, famous, and adored by everyone he meets, including his boyfriend. but when said boyfriend proposes to him, he's forced to face the uncomfortable facts of his past - and louis, who's spent the last five years returning every set of divorce papers harry sent him.
(or, an au based on the movie sweet home alabama.)
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 2/5
Fandom: 9-1-1 (TV)
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Characters: Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Evan "Buck" Buckley
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Study, ish, Angst, Possibly also, Heavy Angst, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Trauma, Therapy, Communication, that's the entire fic people are just talking constantly i'm sorry, Eddie Diaz Queer Awakening 2021, Feelings Realization, Getting Together, Friends to Lovers, First Kiss, Angst with a Happy Ending, Happy Ending, i cannot emphasize this enough: happy ending, Pining Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), we're cracking this beautiful repressed man open that's it that's the fic, Eddie Diaz: Friend of Lesbians, hen and eddie bestieism, in which the author fistfights the diaz parents (metaphorically), icebergs. cacti. knitting. and other questionable metaphors, Slow Burn, Christopher Diaz is a National Treasure, Podfic, Podfic & Podficced Works, Podfic Length: 2-2.5 Hours
hii, please give me some friends to lover slow burn (preferably bh) 🙏🙏🙏🙏
Hi! So this has been a popular request lol! Here are the two recs I already did...
✤ Slow Burn Friends to Lovers / Part 2
And here are 3 more that are bh to make a part 3...
Late Night Talking by @kingsofeverything
Louis Tomlinson has a new album coming out and a second world tour on the horizon. Promo season gets underway with a stop at Late Night Talking, the late night show hosted by Harry Styles, and Harry Styles just happens to be the man who blew a chance to date Louis a decade ago.
run away home by @hattalove
Louis stands, in the middle of a clearing with his hands in his pockets, and stares. This boy—God, this gorgeous, gorgeous boy. He seems so clumsy, confused at the best of times, but there’s a wisdom about him as he speaks, a maturity that belies his age.
Louis is hopelessly, wildly attracted to him.
or, louis is a successful jockey down on his luck, struggling to get his life back on track after an injury. harry has a horse, a house fit for a prince, and a broken heart.
it takes them a while to figure out that they need each other.
Pour Your Heart Out by @hrrytomlinson
Louis is his soulmate. Or at least Harry thinks he is. Louis feels the same as Louis. But there are a lot of people named Louis in the world and this Louis might not be the Louis. It’s besides the point though, because Harry knows he can’t allow himself to get close to any boys. He just can’t and he’s told himself this multiple times. He has to simply stay away from Louis Tomlinson. But he can’t. Harry Styles can never stay away from Louis Tomlinson. It’s physically impossible for him to.
One of my all time favourite fics! This is such an adorable story and I loved narrating it. Thank you so much @hattalove for writing this slice of pure joy <3
Length: 23 minutes 27 seconds
Format: Streaming + MP3 + M4B
Rating: Teen & Up
Fandom: 9-1-1 (TV)
Relationship: Evan “Buck” Buckley/Eddie Diaz
Warnings: No Archive warnings apply
Links: AO3, archive.org, Google Drive
Summary:
“Glad to see someone is happy I’m here,” Buck yells into the house, and only gets the rustle of paper bags and a vague grunt in response. He leans down and whispers into Christopher’s ear: “Was he being a Kermit again?”
Christopher nods so hard that some of his hair ends up in Buck’s mouth.
“It’s so bad,” he whispers back. “You need to move in with us already.”
how is eddie diaz like kermit the frog? let buck and christopher count the ways.
And have the cover with the title on the phone instead as a bonus, because I couldn’t make up my mind which was better:
Summary: “Yeah,” Eddie says, and the darkness behind his eyelids takes on a white edge. “Be good. Nice to be married,” he yanks on Buck’s t-shirt, “best friend.”
Finally, Buck takes a breath that sounds off somehow, but he laughs too, and that sounds normal, Eddie thinks. A normal laugh.
“Sure, Eds,” he says, and there’s his hand in Eddie’s hair again, a puff of breath on the crown of Eddie’s head like Buck leaned in to press a kiss there and then stopped, but why would he stop—“I’ll marry you if you remind me tomorrow.”
or the one in which joking about being married to your best friend is all fun and games, right up until you realize that you're not laughing.
baby, say you'll always keep me by hattalove (@hattalove)
Buddie | 8k | Teen
“Yeah,” Eddie says, and the darkness behind his eyelids takes on a white edge. “Be good. Nice to be married,” he yanks on Buck’s t-shirt, “best friend.”
Finally, Buck takes a breath that sounds off somehow, but he laughs too, and that sounds normal, Eddie thinks. A normal laugh.
“Sure, Eds,” he says, and there’s his hand in Eddie’s hair again, a puff of breath on the crown of Eddie’s head like Buck leaned in to press a kiss there and then stopped, but why would he stop—“I’ll marry you if you remind me tomorrow.”
or the one in which joking about being married to your best friend is all fun and games, right up until you realize that you're not laughing.
