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Buck + flirty belt grabs
morning
maybe fall in love
rating: G | words: 1,802
Morale is flagging here at the ass end of a 24 hour shift where they’d been bounced all around the city for a never ending stream of calls. The first week of summer is always like this, every kid in the district flooding out of the confines of the classroom and stretching their wings in the form of minor traffic accidents and what Eddie’s heard Athena refer to as “stupidity induced injury.” It’s not just the kids either, the frantic energy spreading to even the oldest citizens. They’d had to confiscate illegal fireworks from a retirement home some uncountable amount of hours ago, Bobby doing his best stern dad lecture at a man 30 years his senior. Nothing’s been too drastic, no death or mass destruction, but it’s three AM and they’re at their fourth block party fight mop up in a row and even Hen and Chim are snapping at each other and Eddie can actually see Bobby thinking through damage control.
“Buckley, Diaz.”
Buck and Eddie are loading gear back into the truck, still sweating in the dead of night because the June gloom settled thick over the city has just trapped the heat in, turning the air into an oppressive muggy sludge. Eddie doesn’t have the energy to respond, just turns generally in Bobby’s direction. Buck, behind him, leans against the engine.
Bobby sighs, fishing around in his pockets to pull cash from his wallet and press it into Eddie’s hands. He nods over at a couple of food trucks down the street that still, somehow, have lines. “Get food. Anything.”
So Buck and Eddie shuffle down the road, more distance between them than usual, the normally comforting brush of shoulders suddenly an unpleasantly sticky concept. The options are bougie cheeseburgers with lobster or kimchi or peanut butter and jelly piled on them, or a fried chicken truck with an obnoxiously flashing neon sign on the roof. Buck raises an eyebrow in a question and Eddie shrugs, and they get in line for chicken.
Buck stands with his hands in his pockets and Eddie feels his palms sweat just looking at him. He’s holding his arms slightly away from his torso, begging from the universe a breeze, trying to escape his own body heat. The neon flashes red and that makes Eddie feel hot too, the burning color of fire washing over Buck’s features, swallowing his birthmark whole. It makes his face look strange, young and unfamiliar, and Eddie doesn’t realize how intently he’s studying him until Buck makes surprised eye contact. He raises an eyebrow, Eddie shakes his head with dead-exhausted eyes, Buck nods and stares back out at the street.
“How’re Peppa’s dates going?”
Eddie barely resists groaning at the question. Bad, is how they’re going, and Buck knows that because Eddie calls him after each one to complain about it. He hasn’t hit it off with a single one of the women his tia keeps plucking out of her mysterious bottomless pit of single young hopefuls, because he doesn’t like their job or their interests or their laugh or the way their hand feels on his arm. Manicured nails, soft skin. Buck’s head tilts lazily to the side, a little grin pulling up one side of his mouth, and the sound of the neon feels like it’s buzzing around the inside of Eddie’s skull.
read the rest on ao3
WHAT ARE YALL READING RN you must tell me

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things in fic I'm used to people kind of faking their way through writing about:
the city of los angeles
the city of new york
sex
how drinking alcohol works
how getting high works
how a child of any age speaks
how nuclear physics work
how [my job] works
how debilitating being shot in the shoulder is
how hypothermia works
things I have never before seen someone fake their way through writing about, until today:
what french toast is
read through the notes on this one trust me
Here's some of the notes, starting with the things multiple people brought up:
SHRIMP COCKTAIL:
banahbanah: #flashback to that one fic where Peter Parker frets about drinking shrimp cocktail because of the alcohol
generaldeliciousness: adding: what a prawn/shrimp cocktail is
#why is your character turning it down because they're under 21 #do you think prawn cocktail is a cocktail #this lives in my brain rent-free constantly #the rest of the fic was so normal #and good enough that i'll still re-read it #but bro
And then many, MANY, people wondering if this was actually authour mistake, since Peter really would do this!
POMEGRANATES:
zhajhassa: #haha where's that post that was like someone describing someone eating a pomegranate but they ate it like an apple
thornhands: #once someone wrote persephone biting into a whole Pomegranate #had to stop and stare at a wall for a minute
sungsingsanguine: I once saw someone very confidently write about a character eating slices of pomegranate.
FRUIT TREES:
zagreuses-toast: #given a very endearing glimpse into a writers blindspots by seeing them describe someone sitting under a ''pineapple tree''
salatrash: I remember something about picking watermelons... OF A FUCKING TREE
baander: #cranberry trees
DOUGH/BATTER:
maycelium: #I'm a chef so I'm really used to people not accurately describing how to cook food #But I was surprisingly flabbergasted when someone was writing making a cake and was kneading it. Which uh #Not necessary for cake. It was interesting for sure but just bizarre
livebloggingmydescentintomadness: #the one that drove me nuts was when a character set aside a batch of PASTA DOUGH 'to rise' #pasta doesn't have yeast!! #it does need to REST but it will never RISE #you do not want an airy crumb on your noodles
lovesodeepandwideandwell: #THE ONE WHERE THEY MADE COOKIES BY LADLING BATTER INTO A TRAY
Some other topics:
I love that when Hen and Chimney (best friends of 15 years) have a fight EVERYONE gets involved. Because no one once to see these—usually level headed individuals who love each other— be broken apart. The entire friend group intervenes in this bestie squabble. But when Eddie and Buck have a fight absolutely no one gets involved. In fact they vacate the vicinity and let that shit blow up going “they’ll figure it out.”
when you're going through withdrawal but still gotta flirt with your man
I'm trying to get back into the habit of writing for the first time in like 4 years and I have never felt more like this guy
okay does the next generation need me to introduce them to Dead Man’s Bones yet
this is baby Ryan Gosling’s goth crooner band. they made one functionally perfect album and nothing else. this is genuinely one of my top 10 no-skips albums of all time and i dont even give a fuck about Gosling as an actor

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i'm sorry i never did your tag game. i love you
Buck in S9B 9-1-1
Insane how supernatural is 15 seasons long and everything is under explored. What were they doing for 15 years?
Lots of correct opinions in the notes.
Don’t leave these in the tags!
#killing all the women#failed backdoor pilots#replaying the same sibling drama over and over again like eagles eating prometheus’s liver#supernatural#what a show
God I wish I knew how to write. So much respect to people who write fanfiction, I could never and have never
in my dog bed in heaven, whimper in my sleep

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Unfair of my job to expect me to show up when I have arts and also crafts to do
buck gets labeled the reckless one on the job bc he does crazy shit when he’s angry or sad as a type of passive self-harm so we see the emotional risk in it. eddie doesn’t have to be sad to do all that he’s just a little nuts
buck taking a risk at work: ouaaghh im so sad im gonna go run into this fire really hard. Dont worry about it
eddie taking a risk at work: damn this is gonna be so fucking sick lol