Additional Tags: Crack Treated Seriously, Humor, Fluff, Idiots in Love, Mutual Pining, in a good way, Evan "Buck" Buckley Loves Eddie Diaz, Unhinged Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Spoilers for Episode: s08e15 Lab Rats
Summary:
“So, let me get this straight,” Chim said slowly. “You think Eddie’s building citywide gestures of affection because he was chemically altered?”
“Yes!” Buck stopped mid-stride. “No. Maybe? I don’t know! But something’s off. He hacked into government servers, rewrote my yearbook, and apparently has access to satellite time. And he thinks all of this is completely normal behavior.”
Hen raised a brow. “And you’re just noticing this now?”
“I’m not saying he hasn’t always had ‘extremely competent menace with a heart of gold’ energy,” Buck said. “But this is next level. And then I remembered,” he said, snapping his fingers. “During that warehouse call two weeks ago, those barrels tipped over? He got completely doused in some weird chemical.”
(Or the unhinged Eddie story.)
.
This is all @sergeantchenford 's fault. I saw their post daring people to write the most unhinged Eddie stories "that man would do anything to make Buck happy." And things started to bubble. Thank you for waking up my very sleepy Muse! I've been battling writer's block for way too many months!
I haven't been around much because RL hasn't been kind, but I'm trying to get back into my happy places. I'm sorry, I haven't responded to many people!
My goal is to get my crash fic done before the premiere. Previous sneak peaks here.
Here's a new snippet :)
Eddie bit his lip. Buck’s face was covered with streaks of dirt and dried blood, and there were bits of leaves in his hair. “I think you should sit down and take a break.”
“What?” Buck said frantic. “No, we need to find the team. I’m sure they’re close.”
Given Buck’s state of flight fight, Eddie knew he would not let go of the idea of a rescue unit. There was no use arguing, but he could use it to his advantage. “Buck, we shouldn't move around. You know the number rule in search and rescue is to stay in one spot. If we keep moving, we’ll mess up the grid search.”
Buck blinked wearily at him. “But, you’re hurt and you need medical attention.”
“I’m right here. I’m fine.” Of course, he wasn’t in great shape and if Buck wasn't altered, he’d see right through it. Eddie dug his fingers into Buck’s shoulder. “I’m injured, but I’m stable. I’m more worried about you.”
“About me?”
“Yes.” Eddie stared at Buck’s confused eyes, hoping he conveyed every ounce of truth. “I always worry about you. It’s my job.”
It was much more, but Eddie couldn’t explore those feelings yet.
“And it’s my job to look after you. Always.”
Eddie swallowed against the sudden lump in his throat. Buck’s eyes were a window to his soul and it was showing him so many truths.
“Buck. You’ve always had my back. It’s one of the few things in life I can count on.” He watched Buck’s bottom lip wobble, Eddie squeezing his arms again in reassurance. “Now come on, let’s get off our feet.”
“But we have to get you to Chris, he needs to know…he needs to know…”
Buck's concussion continued to impede him. Eddie needed to get him comfortable. He needed to shift his focus.
“We have to sit down.” If they didn’t sit down soon, Eddie wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to remain on his feet. “Buck,” Eddie fought against a wave of dizziness. “If I don’t sit down…”
Buck’s eyes got large like he finally got a good look at Eddie and realized the state he was in. His hands clutched Eddie’s shoulders. “Yeah, okay. Sure.”
Going from standing to sitting was not easy or rewarding. Once they both started to lower themselves to the ground it was as if their bodies finally gave up the fight against gravity, and they both collapsed.
Fandom: The Pitt (TV)
Relationships: Jack Abbot/Michael "Robby" Robinavitch
Characters: Jack Abbot (The Pitt), Michael "Robby" Robinavitch, Original Characters
Additional Tags: Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Slash, Subway Accident, Triage, Talking, Competence is Sexy
Summary:
The car was no longer horizontal. It was twisted, crunched. God knew what they’d hit. The floor sloped sharply, littered with shattered glass. Smoke hung thick, mixing with the copper tang of blood and scorched plastic.
Emergency lights flickered, casting everything in a stuttering red glow like a battlefield lit by fire.
Jack’s therapist would have a field day.
Then the realization of where he was going this morning came to him. A meeting downtown. No, where were they going?
Characters: Maddie Buckley, Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Maddie Han
Additional Tags: Drama, Introspection, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Maddie Buckley & Eddie Diaz - Freeform, Friendship, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-Episode: s08e10 Voices (9-1-1 TV) Somewhere in S8b
Summary:
The door creaked open. Maddie stiffened, her back pressing harder into the corner. “I’m okay,” she said.
Liar.
The door didn’t close again. Instead, soft, deliberate footsteps moved toward her, growing louder in the quiet. Her pulse quickened, her fingers gripping her arms tighter. “Seriously, Josh, I’m fine. Just—”
The words caught in her throat as she looked up. “Eddie?” she whispered.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Characters: Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Evan "Buck" Buckley, Henrietta "Hen" Wilson, Howie "Chimney" Han, Bobby Nash, Athena Grant, Original Characters
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Fluff, joy, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, References to Depression, Baking, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Mutual Pining, First Kiss
Summary:
The Sweet Spot was nestled on the side of a mountain, a world away from the urban expanse of Los Angeles where they all once resided. Opening a bakery was the start of a new beginning. Then, a year ago, the emergence of a magical portal altered the course of their lives forever.
Within a month, the mythical patrons had surpassed the sleepy town's usual crowds, prompting Eddie and Buck to transition their bakery into an evening-only establishment, open from Thursday to Sunday.
Magical portals to other realms should have put them on the evening news, maybe even earned them visits by swarms of scientists and government officials. But no one seemed to care.
Hello! It's been along time, but I think I've coxed The Muse out of hiding. I'm working on something for The 9-1-1, What's Your Movie challenge.
I have zero idea why I gravitated toward this film, mainly becasue I think it would be fun. This is all based on the vibes and not the plot. Lol.
So, have the opening scene while I try to keep the Muse engaged over the next month.
Cookies to those who can guess the film..lol
..
The sun beat down on the back of Buck’s neck as he unlocked the bar’s rear entrance. The stale scent of spilled beer and old pretzels hit him like a wall, a familiar, unchanging aroma of long shifts and late nights. He exhaled through his nose and stepped inside.
The hallway was dim, the scuffed floors bearing the weight of countless footsteps. He flicked on the overhead lights. As he mentally cataloged the day’s priorities—mopping the floors, cleaning the walk-in cooler, maybe even changing the draft lines before the next delivery. Not that he could help with any of it.
He rolled his neck, vertebrae cracking in a sequence that sent a satisfying hum down his spine. His wrist no longer throbbed, but the stupid cast kept him clumsy, weighed down in a way he hated. Another six weeks. Six weeks of fumbled grip, six weeks of side-eye from customers. And his limp—slight but persistent—reminded him that healing wasn’t just a waiting game. Still, he’d be damned if he let any of it slow him down.
When he reached the bar, Buck froze. Chim sat hunched over his laptop at the far end, a lone figure in the midday quiet. A ribbon of smoke curled above his head, twisting in the dim light.
Buck narrowed his eyes. “I thought you quit smoking.”
Chim glanced up, his eyes shadowed. “I did. Then I looked at our finances and started again.”
Guilt flared inside Buck’s chest. “I’m sorry, I should have—”
“Stop. You have nothing to apologize for.” Chim’s voice was steady but raw. “If anything, I should be apologizing to you. I can’t even afford to help pay for your medical bills.”
Buck straightened, jaw tightening. “It’s just a few scrapes.”
Chim snorted, exhaling smoke in a slow, deliberate stream.
“Besides,” Buck said, “you’re not the one who owes me a dime.”
Chim took another drag off his cigarette, the ember flaring briefly before dimming in defeat.
Buck clenched his teeth. He hated seeing Chim like this—the exhaustion, the weight pressing down on his shoulders. This wasn’t just business. This was their livelihood. Maddie’s livelihood. And he was standing in the middle of it, powerless.
He’d failed them.
Sighing, Chim reached for another cigarette.
Buck’s stomach churned. Yeah, no. This wasn’t happening.
A day early, but I'm going to be busy tomorrow. I started something new despite my sleep deprived brain sabotaging me.
This is a snippet from my whump fic. Sometimes we have to feed the ID part of our brains. The boys will forgive me.
And for the record, I wrote this before that last Tim interview. :-P
...
“Hey,” Buck said, smacking his arm. “Seriously. You’ve been through hell and back. Maybe cut yourself some slack.”
Eddie looked off in the distance. “Doesn’t excuse what I did.”
“No one faults you for wanting a do-over. If the roles were reversed and I could kiss a loved one more time, I’d do it in a heartbeat.”
Eddie gripped the armrest even harder. He didn't correct Buck about kissing Kim. He’d let her inside his home. He created the catalyst for Christopher's pain and anger.
Poor decisions didn’t absolve him of the repercussions, regardless of what Father Brian said. Eddie had taken his advice. He’d let go of his barriers and lived in the moment whenever possible, experiencing silly joys.
But wasn't he choosing joy now? Christopher was the biggest source of happiness in his world. This road trip was a step in finding it again.
Despite all his self-reassurances, a voice deep down cast doubt otherwise. Eddie rested his head against the headrest, trying to quiet all the conflicting noise. He tried to do the right thing but always seemed to fall short.
Silence filled the inside of the jeep. Eddie glanced over at Buck, his face obscured by shadows except for the dim illumination from the dashboard. Even in the low light, Eddie noticed his tight expression, the way Buck's fingers gripped the steering wheel, the forced sense of calmness, the heavy frown.
Everything about Buck screamed tension. Sorrow.
Eddie squeezed his eyes closed knowing he was partially to blame. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For—”
A loud bang cut off Eddie’s next words, the jeep jerking forward violently. The seat belt tightened painfully across his chest as the vehicle tail-hooked, swerving wildly
Buck struggled with the steering wheel. “Hang on!”
But they were going too fast.
As the jeep rounded a sharp bend, its tires suddenly lost traction, sending it careening off the winding road's edge.
Tires screeching in protest, the jeep plummeted down a steep embankment, tumbling wildly through the air before crashing violently against the rocky ravine.
It was like being on a roller coaster from hell. The jeep hit a massive bump, spinning it sideways.
Eddie braced himself for a rollover with the sudden shift in the vehicle's center of gravity. But before he could even shout a warning, a tree loomed fast in their path.
..
I feel like fandom is passing me by. I have no idea what everyone is working on and I'd like to keep tabs on ya'll.
Share something and pass it around. :)
Here is start of the to my WWII AU for The Pitt.
..
The moment Jack stepped outside, the biter wind slapped his cheek. France was soul-sapping cold. He pulled his battered coat tighter around his body, but it was like wrapping himself in wet cardboard. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a hot shower or clean clothes.
Probably before D-Day.
The field hospital sprawled across the low ground like a patchwork quilt stitched from desperation. Canvas tents sagged under the weight of frost, the lone generator sputtering somewhere in the back. Pine trees loomed at the edges of camp, their branches heavy with ice. The ground was boggy, half-frozen, and unforgiving.
They were a mobile hospital, designed to be dismantled in six hours flat. Every box, chest, tent, and vehicle was painted with a red cross to mark them as medical. Not that it always mattered.
And in the distance, the sound of gunfire.
Robby stepped out of their tent, a blanket from his cot draped over his shoulders like a shawl. He looked like hell. Bedraggled, sleep-deprived, and sporting a layer of scruff that violated every Army reg. Then again, they hadn’t seen a razor blade in months. Hell, they barely had enough green fatigues to go around.
“Spoke to the Colonel before I got some shut-eye,” Robby said, his breath fogging in the air. “Engineering corps got that pipe laid down for water. We should be able to start cleaning supplies today.”
For weeks, they’d been limping along with a single 250-gallon trailer. Water was rationed like morphine. Boiling it took hours. Sanitation was a fantasy.
Jack grunted. “Nice. Maybe now they can find us some basic first aid. Not that I mind practicing my suture skills.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Robby said, rubbing his eyes. “I made plenty of money for our next R&R off you and Langdon.”
Jack snorted. “That young pup’s never going to out-suture me. He ties knots like he’s gift-wrapping a ham.”
Robby didn’t offer a comeback. Those had been coming less and less lately. Too much death. Too much despair. They were doctors trained to care for the sick, to heal, to help. Medical school hadn’t prepared them for battle wounds from bombs and rifles. For hellfire and nightmares.
Draft cards didn’t discriminate. He and Robby, like so many civilian docs, had already been in practice when they were called to duty. Their “training” was compressed to meet the urgent wartime need for medical personnel. A mere eight-week crash course at an Army base hospital before being commissioned as officers, responsible for surgery and patient care.
