#knitter!eddie

[fleurdebeton]

wip wednesday 10.19.22

Tagged by @rogerzsteven & @thekristen999 — thank you both! ❤️

I’m rewriting knitter!Eddie because that’s not crazy at all. 😅😬 I think I might’ve shared this part before, just ignore that feeling of déjà vu.

In no time, Eddie did school drop off and was headed back to the house. His stomach, a ball of nerves and guilt thrumming through his veins.

As he navigated the streets, he allowed himself to breathe and feel for him. Back when he’d gotten his head on straight after the shooting and Ana, in what had led him into Buck’s arms, Frank had told him he couldn’t pour from an empty cup, that his emotions were just as valid. It was true, just not while Buck was drowning. Eddie couldn’t save him and drown too…so whatever he could deal with in the fifteen minute drive would have to fix him until Buck was safe.

He was so mad at himself for slipping up. He was mad that he’d been happy and forgot that wasn’t how his life went. Eddie Diaz didn’t get to be happy. But, then he’d fallen in love with Buck and it felt like he could. They’d stumbled into the adoption and things were good. Eddie hadn’t meant to feel so incandescently happy that he wasn’t thinking of the karmic reality awaiting him. The fact he wasn’t on guard made it hurt. He couldn’t breathe knowing he did it though, that was too much. Eddie should’ve known better.

In truth, Eddie circled the block around the house more times that he cares to count and his thoughts spiraling out of control, first in a controlled manner like a spinning top, then like a Tupperware lid right before it flattened to linoleum. Once it happens, he stops, having enough sense to stir to a curb, and sobs.

The wave he was holding back from hitting Buck flattened him and took the air from his lungs. The rawness he’d felt escape his husband last night ripped from his own throat. For a few minutes, Eddie forgot he knew how to breathe and he gasped around the sharp cries coming from his chest as his heart broke open.

He wanted to yell, “why” and rage at the Universe. But he knew why. He had no curiosity or desire to understand. It made no sense to ask a question he already knew the answer to.

Why hurt Buck too, though? It was a more pointed pondering. Was it guilt by association? Because light of the world, Evan Buckley, had saddled himself up to a cursed beyond thought possible, Eddie?

Of course, he knew that answer too. It was him. He was to blame.

Tagging: @rewritetheending @elvensorceress @prettyboyandthekid @princessfbi

[allisonrw96]

*runs to your ask box* 🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊

Just for that (and because I do want to save some hockey for Seven Sentence Sunday), Imma give you something weird courtesy of recent chats with @fleurdebeton

Buck is aware of the curse. Not because Eddie told him about it, because Eddie would never confess to believing in something as ridiculous as a curse. No, he found out completely by accident on a routine call. Hen and Chimney were working on a man who had been electrocuted while trying to change a light fixture and Buck was standing off to the side with his wife, just waiting for them to need his muscle to get the guy on a gurney.

Gwen was fiddling with the sleeves of her sweater, a pink cable-knit that was obviously handmade, and trying not to show how worried she was. Sometimes the best thing anyone could do in those situations was to make small-talk. It was harder to believe your loved one was dying when the firefighter next to you kept talking about the weather. So Buck said, “Did you make that yourself?”

Looking down as though she couldn’t remember what she was wearing, Gwen nodded, “Yeah. A couple years ago. It’s from the yarn I bought when we were on our honeymoon in Ireland. I dyed it myself.”

“It looks great. How long have you been knitting for?”

“My whole life. Or almost. My aunt taught me when I was little.”

Lifting the leg of his pants above the tops of his boots, Buck pointed out the strip of lime green cuff that was visible, “My boyfriend knits too. He made these for my birthday. I keep asking him for a sweater, but he keeps saying he doesn’t have the time to commit to a big project.”

Gwen looked down at the socks and back up at Buck. Through all her anxiety, she managed a half smile, “He’s worried about the sweater curse.”

[fleurdebeton]

seven sentence sunday 10.9.22

Thank you to the wonderful @rewritetheending tagged me today and thanks to @spotsandsocks @homerforsure @moondiaz who tagged me in previous weeks to post seven(ish) sentences of what I’m working on.

From knitter!Eddie:

“Oh Buck, oh sweetheart, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

What else could he say? Fuck your parents? He’d said it many times before, but this transgression was snuggled up on the shelf right next to “I have a brother who died and everyone kept it a secret, even Maddie.”

Buck was back clinging as sobs ripped through his body and into Eddie as though Eddie was the one crying and he was, the silent tears trickling down into his husband’s curls, but they both shook with the force of Buck’s heartbreak.

Tagging: @elvensorceress @princessfbi @prettyboyandthekid @mellaithwen @djdangerlove @homerforsure

[fleurdebeton]

wip wednesday 8.31.22

I haven’t done one of these recently, many thanks @spotsandsocks @rewritetheending @loveyourownsmiilee @prettyboyandthekid @elvensorceress who have tagged me since the last time. I appreciate the tag even when I can’t participate. 🥰

I rewrote the beginning for knitter!Eddie because there wasn’t enough knitting. 😂

When casting on every knitting project looks basically the same, the number of stitches varies, but the possibilities are endless.

In the beginning Eddie’s friendship with Buck was indistinguishable from the others on A shift. Well, maybe not the beginning-beginning where Buck hated him for sixteen hours, but that was a twisted stitch and once it straightened out and flipped, it looked like the rest of the uniform stitches.

Eddie learned in the beginning sometimes it didn’t look like progress was being made, when he was in the stitches, they were small, the details of everyday life, where he didn’t always see what the big picture was. It was all just single stitches, again and again…endless.

The days became rows, knitting and purling— the back and forth as it were— and suddenly the Buck and Eddie of it all became BuckandEddie, two stitches that worked in any combination, tangled together in a connection. Their lives knit together.

The first kiss came at the end of a row after Eddie had broken down after learning his entire team from the Sandbox died.

Buck moved in. The needles moved swiftly bringing the yarn up and over.

Then they eloped at the Los Angeles County Courthouse. Another stitch.

Sure, they ripped out stitches and rows occasionally— bickering, switching plans, bad calls, but Buck and Eddie regrouped and started again.

Tagging: @mellaithwen @djdangerlove @panicatthediaz @kitkatpancakestack @hattalove if y’all want to and anyone else who wants to play!

[fleurdebeton]

wip wednesday

(because i need some serotonin and who am i to deny @djdangerlove more knitter!eddie content. 😉)

“So-sorry,” he stuttered out. “I thought I was quiet, didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I always hear you when you’re quiet, Eds.”

“You do?”

“Yeah.” Buck’s eyes were soft as he looked at Eddie, like Eddie was his entire world — Eddie knew Buck was his. “I don’t know if you know this, but sometimes, you don’t say much and I had to get good at interpreting.”

Guilt rushed through his chest like a broken dam flooding a plain. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I do that to you.”

“It’s okay. You’re better than you used to be. You never shut me out.”

It was an olive branch. Because Eddie knew for a fact, he still kept some pieces of himself locked away from his husband. It wasn’t about trust, or at least not their trust in each other, but how he’d proven untrustworthy to himself. Buck never saw it that way though. Even in the darkest pit Eddie built, Buck climbed down to offer him a way out.

[fleurdebeton]

Seven Sentence Sunday Monday

I was tagged by my dear @rewritetheending, yesterday but it was my half birthday and my writer brain hasn’t worked with me in the past few weeks, so Sunday became Monday like it always does.

This is from my knitter!Eddie wip. 😍 Also, forgive me but I didn’t count sentences.

“Ooh, new project, Eddie?” Hen smiled.

It took everything within him not to jump. The soft beige skein and circular needles with three long rows of stitches was under the latest issue to Vogue Knitting and the decoy sock project.

“Another pair of socks for Buck.” Eddie’s face settled into a soft smile as his mind supplied an image of how handsome his husband would look in them. With the baby.

“That boy would freeze without you,” she teased.

It was partially true. Where the hot Texas sun seemed baked into Eddie’s skin, Buck ran as cold as his east coast upbringing. Not for the first time, he wondered if it had anything to do with the absence of love Buck’s parents had shown Buck and Maddie that left a chill that they couldn’t seem to shake regardless of the love they gave or received. Eddie would knit socks for eternity if his light could warm the shadows inside Buck.

Tagging: @homerforsure @panicatthediaz @djdangerlove and anyone else who wants to play!

[fleurdebeton]

Knitter!Eddie ??

Count me in as intrigued.

How about 'BEFORE THE BEGINNING' for the writing prompt, please?

(POV as 2nd choice 😃)

Welcome to my sandbox! ☺️ Happy to have you.

BEFORE THE BEGINNING — three sentences (or more) about something that happened before the plot of my current project

Eddie had been here before, several times; every time the 118 had a new probie or transfer, he became the subject of the downtime conversation.

“You,” Ravi elongated the word before continuing. “Crochet?”

Why did everyone assume it was crochet?

“It’s knitting actually, and yeah, I hurt my wrist some years ago and my PT suggested knitting and it…stuck.” Ravi didn’t need the entire story, highlights were enough, plus, after getting shot again, Eddie didn’t need the nightmare fodder (he was fine in that department, thank you very much).

“Cool” was all Ravi said and it was enough for Eddie to return to his row.

“Yeah, Eddie is the Knitorious E.D.S.!” Buck gushed from where he was chopping vegetables for Bobby’s gumbo.

The group laughed and Eddie found his cheeks turning red. It was a new symptom of Buck’s good natured teasing and other, devotion…Eddie wasn’t sure to be honest, things between them changed in the last few months. The shooting catapulted them into this space of open pining that Eddie didn’t know what to do with but didn’t want to end it. Seeing him blush didn’t stop Buck, if anything it encouraged his friend. And, Eddie didn’t want him to.

“We agreed that wasn’t going to be a thing, Buck,” Eddie shot back, fondly.

“Oh, I think it’s a thing, Eddie,” Hen smiled.

At that Ravi frowned slightly, eyes moving from Eddie then across the lounge to Buck in the kitchen. It wouldn’t be the first time A shift scared off a probie with their close bonded antics.

help me write this fic

[fleurdebeton]

Seven Sentence Sunday 2.13.22

@thekristen999 tagged me— thank you! ❤️

I actually fit some writing time in my draining work week…because I wrote at work. Knitter!Eddie is still going through it and not really knitting on his project (I guess art imitates life 😬).

Buck ducked his head and wiped fresh tears from his eyes with his fingers, then swallowed down a sob as it tried to claw its way out of his throat. He turned away from Eddie.

Fuck.

Without hesitating Eddie began soothing circles into Buck’s back with his fingers, keeping the touch light.

“I’ve got you.”

Buck stiffened slightly, then dipped his head in acquiescence. He knew. And Eddie knew Buck had him, but right now he had to carry that load. Whatever it was, no matter how heavy it was, Eddie had them.

Tagging: @homerforsure @rewritetheending @mellaithwen @princessfbi @prettyboyandthekid @djdangerlove