goawayplsthanks

[goawayplsthanks]

Buddie!AU – A blackout traps Buck in his apartment, the storm outside no match for the one brewing between him and Eddie. One visit to “check in” turns into charged touches, unspoken confessions, and a night of raw, unrestrained heat that neither of them can come back from.

𝑳𝑰𝑮𝑯𝑻𝑺 𝑶𝑼𝑻 // 𝑩𝑼𝑫𝑫𝑰𝑬 𝑶𝑵𝑬-𝑺𝑯𝑶𝑻

The city had been humming all day, the way Los Angeles always did - like it was holding a note only it could hear, thrumming under skin and concrete. Neon buzzed. Air conditioners groaned in overworked unison. Traffic droned on the streets far below, its noise curling up into every high-rise balcony and open window. 

It was a familiar soundscape, relentless in its constancy.

And then it was gone.

The blackout didn’t announce itself - it swallowed the city whole. 

One moment, Buck’s apartment had been humming faintly with the refrigerator’s compressor, the soft click of the hallway light, the distant swell of someone’s TV in another unit. The next, it was silence. Heavy, unbroken. The kind that makes you feel like your own breath is too loud.

Out beyond the glass, the skyline was nothing but shadow. 

No billboards glowing over Sunset, no scattered windows lit like constellations in the towers across the street. It was as if LA had been wiped clean in a single sweep, stripped of every distraction, left raw and quiet beneath the looming dark.

The storm filled the absence quickly. Rain slapped against the window in heavy sheets, each drop racing down the glass in twisting rivulets before vanishing into the blur below. 

The air carried that smell you only get in the first hours of a downpour - wet asphalt, ozone, something metallic lingering in the back of your throat. A flash lit the horizon in a jagged white scar, and the thunder followed a beat later, rolling deep and slow, like some massive creature turning in its sleep overhead.

Buck sat motionless in the middle of it all, sunk deep into the couch. 

He’d found three candles in a drawer - a stubby one on the coffee table, two taller ones perched on the windowsill. They gave off just enough light to pull his features into relief, carving him out of the shadows one flicker at a time.

Fresh from the shower, he still smelled faintly of soap and steam, the warmth clinging to his skin in waves. His hair, darkened and heavy with leftover damp, curled tighter than usual, a few strands falling stubbornly across his forehead. 

Droplets from his earlier rinse were still sliding down the line of his neck, catching briefly in the hollow at his collarbone before disappearing beneath the cling of his shirt.

The shirt - an old, soft thing, pale and worn thin from countless washes - clung to him in places it never would’ve if he’d had time to dry off properly. The fabric was damp enough to show the shadow of muscle underneath when the candlelight caught it just right, stretching across the plane of his chest, the pull of his shoulders. The collar was loose, slipping slightly to one side, revealing a triangle of warm skin and the faint line of his collarbone.

Below, he’d pulled on only a pair of grey sweatpants, no boxers underneath, the waistband hanging low on his hips from where he’d tugged them on in a hurry. The cotton pooled loosely around his thighs, bunching when he shifted his weight. His bare feet rested on the couch cushions, toes curling slightly against the fabric.

The apartment felt different without the usual hum of electronics - bigger somehow, the walls farther apart. Every sound sharpened in the quiet: the restless hiss of rain against the window, the occasional groan of pipes in the building, the faint pop of candle wicks as they bent and straightened in the heat. Time stretched in that darkness, no clock glowing on the microwave to remind him of how quickly or slowly it was passing.

He watched the storm without really thinking about it, eyes tracking the chaotic dance of the raindrops. 

A strong gust would slam water hard enough against the glass to make the frame shiver, each hit a reminder of just how thin the barrier between him and the outside really was. The candlelight shifted with the drafts sneaking in through the edges of the windows, casting shadows that moved over him like someone else’s hands might - hesitant, lingering, unpredictable.

His mind was quiet, emptied out in the way it only got after the kind of day that left his muscles heavy and his head too full to focus on anything. He didn’t bother with his phone; it sat somewhere on the counter, its battery percentage unknown. There was no urge to break the silence with music. The blackout had given him something rare - a pocket of stillness where he could just… exist.

But it wasn’t the kind of stillness that made you feel alone. 

It was weighted, humid, electric in the way the air gets before something changes. It made his pulse feel just a little louder in his ears, made every shift of fabric over his skin feel deliberate.

And he didn’t know it yet, but somewhere in that darkness - on wet streets lit only by the occasional lightning flash - someone was already climbing the stairs to his door. Someone carrying the exact kind of change that night seemed to be promising.

The storm had settled into something steady now, the rain falling in unbroken sheets that painted the city in sound. 

The candle flames swayed with the draft crawling under the window frame, shadows shifting and stretching across the apartment walls like they had a life of their own. Buck had lost himself in watching it all, breathing with it, until the sharp chime from his phone sliced through the quiet.

The noise wasn’t loud, but in the blackout it felt amplified, like a drop of ink in clear water. 

His eyes cut to the counter, where the faint rectangle of his phone’s face glimmered before fading again. He moved slowly, the couch cushions sighing beneath him as he stepped forward, his feet hitting the cold tiles under it, his damp shirt clinging tighter across his chest and back.

One message.

Eddie: I’m here.

Two words, clean and unassuming, but Buck felt his body react before his mind caught up. A pulse in his throat. A warm tightening low in his belly.

𝑳𝑰𝑮𝑯𝑻𝑺 𝑶𝑼𝑻 // 𝑩𝑼𝑫𝑫𝑰𝑬 𝑶𝑵𝑬-𝑺𝑯𝑶𝑻

[goawayplsthanks]

wish you were here.

[goawayplsthanks]

Mr. “‘He’s not- we’re not’ - subtle is what you are not!“-Diaz in Close My Eyes and Stumble (Right Into Your Love) by @hmslusitania  

Eddie’s PTSD is just that little bit worse and when he moves to Los Angeles, instead of joining the LAFD, he joins dispatch.

Which is all good and fine, except for this one firefighter he keeps ending up talking to.

[goawayplsthanks]

if you haven’t already-read the secret series by Pseudonymous Bosch.

it’s a great time! There’s secrets (duh), chocolate (yum), jokes (ofc), and gloves (beware!!!!!!)

and if you ARE part of the secret series fandom and HAVE read it, reblog to revive the fandom that never truly died. It’s our duty to make this fandom live as long as those in the midnight Sun (side eye).

thank youuuuuuuuuu!!! Now get reading!

[goawayplsthanks]

[goawayplsthanks]

[goawayplsthanks]

the team

[goawayplsthanks]

hey sexy what time do you plan on being done grieving

[goawayplsthanks]

“Mama I'm In Love (With A Criminal)”

- Crack Fic

- 5+ 1 Things

- Eddie has a silver star!

- Idiots in love -

Feelings realization

- Soft Dom Eddie Diaz

- Smut

- 7.2k words

https://archiveofourown.org/works/64096837

[goawayplsthanks]

Buddie supercut masterpost!

Hi everyone, I am finally done with the cuts, so here we have all of them, the first link is for the individual post here, you can click the video to watch it on drive without downloading anything with English subtitles, and the folder link so you can download the video and subtitle. All videos are 1080p 30 fps, if you're an editor, they can be a nice resource.

Season 2: video // folder

Season 3: video // folder

Season 4: video // folder

Season 5: video // folder

Season 6: video // folder

Season 7: video // folder

Season 8a: video // folder

I don't usually add this to my stuff but this is the product of months of work, literally, you don't have to, but if you see this and think "wow, wonder if Anna has a tip button" this is my kofi and you can buy me a coffee.

[goawayplsthanks]

“What?! There’s No Book Club?”

POV Eddie Diaz

Idiots in love

Feelings realization

Crack

Eddie is jealous of extracurricular activities

7.5k words

My first fic

https://archiveofourown.org/works/62666938

[goawayplsthanks]

'We respect your space'—Buck and Eddie: proceed to stand 0.2 inches apart.

[goawayplsthanks]

Buddie 9-1-1 rock band AU where the 118 is a band (v small time like they all have other jobs) and Eddie is the fill in guitarist while buck is injured and buck is JEALOUSSS

[goawayplsthanks]

eddiemay friendship is still real to me! she’s explaining Sabrina Carpenter lore to him and he’s nodding thoughtfully and asking what a “me espresso” is again

[goawayplsthanks]

i’m crashing out right now are FUCKING kidding me

[goawayplsthanks]

straight up let’s hear it for dry humping!!! wooohoo dry humping!!!!

[goawayplsthanks]

911 + textposts aka gotta love the team