livelaughbuck

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@oliverstarkk for @principlemagazine 🔥

[livelaughbuck]

[livelaughbuck]

reblog to tell your mutuals they’re lovely af.

✨♡♡✨♡♡✨♡♡✨♡♡✨

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I made a small thing! I wanted to find a basic way to rep bucktommy in cross stitch.

I adapted the patterns from old magazines, adding the lettering in backstitch myself, and using fractionals as well as whole crosses in the helicopter for a smoother look.

Stitched in 2 strands on 14ct aida, black backstitch in 1 strand, white backstitch in 2.

I also have larger fire engine and helicopter patterns that I may do at a later date.

Both patterns came from old Quick and Easy Cross Stitch magazines, the helicopter from issue 77 (Aug 2001), the engine from issue 88 (June 2002). To find them I raided my mum's never-ending collection of cross stitch magazines, books, and patterns.

The helicopter measures 16 stitches high x 28 wide, the engine measures 18 high x 24 wide.

The progress photos of before the white backstitch, and before any backstitch.

And the backs before any backstitch and with the black backstitch.

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*if you know/have confirmed from multiple sources, pick the first one you experienced

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Crazy to think that this is all Ronald Reagan’s fault

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i want you to reach out

hi have a fun follow-up to breathe me in, breathe me out! this one gets smutty.

After coming home from Tommy’s, May quickly showers, brushes her teeth, and changes into sleep shorts and an oversized shirt before she wanders over to sit on her living room couch. She’d sent Ravi a text letting him know she was home, and he’d replied he’d be there in thirty. That was fifteen minutes ago, and flipping through channels is doing nothing to kill the anticipation stirring in her stomach. May squeezes her thighs together as her mind drifts to memories of earlier today, then further back to previous times Ravi’s been in her bed. She taps her phone awake to check the time. Ravi never replied, but maybe he’s stuck in traffic? A knock at the door sends a jolt through her stomach.

💕 read the full fic on ao3 💕

@firehose118 @chemistry66 @slightlyobsessedwitheverything @tommysbignaturals @lesbianchim

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rb with whether people assume you’re older or younger than your actual age

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RAFAEL SILVA at the Opening Ceremony of Dream It Convention’s “First Responders Reunion V” in Paris, France - June 15, 2025

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SalEddie 🌸 something that calms them pleeeeease I need to inject your SalEddie stuff directly into my veins to sustain my life.

Here you go @judymarch15 1000+ words of soft SalEddie for Something that calms them. Enjoy! Prompts can be found here. Read on AO3 here.

🌸 - Something that calms them 🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

The storm split the sky open just as Eddie's scream split the night. Sal bolted upright in bed, disoriented, the sheets tangled around his legs. Beside him, Eddie thrashed, his breathing ragged and too fast. The digital clock read 3:17 AM, its red glow the only light in the room until another flash of lightning illuminated Eddie's face—eyes wide, pupils dilated, skin slick with sweat. "Eddie? Hey, Eddie, what's wrong?" Sal reached for him, but Eddie flinched away so violently he nearly fell off the bed. "I can't—I can't—" Eddie gasped, clutching at his chest. His whole body trembled. "The storm—I can't—" Sal froze, hand suspended in the air between them. They had only been dating a month. He had never seen Eddie like this, never imagined the easygoing guy who made terrible jokes and kissed like he was savoring expensive wine could fall apart so completely. Thunder crashed outside, and Eddie covered his ears, curling into himself. "Should I... do you need..." Sal trailed off, helpless. He didn't know what questions to ask, what comfort to offer. He watched Eddie struggle to breathe and felt utterly useless. "Water? Should I get you water?" Eddie shook his head, a jerky movement. "Just—just talk to me. Please. Anything." Sal swallowed hard. "Okay. Okay, I can do that." He started speaking, rambling about a documentary he had watched last week, about his last call on shift, where he had to rescue a cat, about his Nona’s recipe he wanted to try that weekend. His voice sounded strange to his own ears, but Eddie's breathing gradually slowed, his grip on his knees loosening by degrees. Sal held Eddie's hand until the storm passed, until Eddie's breathing evened out, until they both drifted back to sleep with the first hint of dawn filtering through the blinds.

-----

Morning light crept in through the blinds, casting soft patterns across the bed. Sal stirred and found Eddie sitting at the edge, shoulders curled inward, his silhouette somehow smaller in the quiet. "I'm sorry about last night," Eddie said, voice rough. He wouldn't meet Sal's eyes. "I should have warned you. About the storms." Sal reached for Eddie's hand. "Hey, no. Don't apologize." "It's stupid. I know it's stupid." Eddie’s fingers trembled slightly in Sal’s grasp. “It was that storm a couple years ago. The one where Buck got hit by lightning on the ladder.” Sal’s brow furrowed. “Yeah… I remember. You were on that call?” “I was struck too,” he said suddenly, voice rough. “Same time Buck was. Not as bad, but… I felt it. My whole body locked up. I hit the ground hard. Couldn't move. And when I looked up, Buck was just lying there, suspended in air. I thought he was dead.” Sal stayed quiet, just breathing with him, close and steady. “Ever since then…” Eddie swallowed hard. “Thunder makes my skin crawl. Lightning makes my chest seize. I try to hide it, but it’s like my body remembers before I do.” “I know,” Sal whispered. “It’s not stupid. It’s your body keeping score. But I’m here now. You’re not alone in it anymore.”

That morning, while Eddie showered, Sal hunched over his laptop. He read about anxiety disorders, panic attacks, grounding techniques. He scrolled through forums where people shared what helped them during storms—weighted blankets, noise-canceling headphones, pressure therapy.

-----

The next time a storm hit, and the clouds rolled in thick and low, heavy with threat, Sal didn’t mention the forecast—he didn’t need to. He could feel the tension in Eddie’s body the moment they lay down together, shoulder to shoulder in the quiet dark. The first flash lit up the room. A few seconds later, thunder followed, low and distant. Eddie didn’t flinch—at least, not visibly. But Sal felt it. The way Eddie’s muscles tensed beneath the sheets, the way his breath hitched just enough to betray him. Sal turned his head toward him. “Hey,” he said gently, voice low. “Can I try something?” Eddie’s jaw was tight. “I’m fine.” “I know,” Sal said. “But… will you trust me?” Eddie hesitated for a breath, then gave a small nod. The next thunderclap rolled in, closer this time. Without a word, Sal moved over him, carefully straddling Eddie’s hips, pressing their bodies together just enough to ground him. Then he leaned in, cupping both hands over Eddie’s ears. His palms were warm, steady, fingertips resting in Eddie’s hair. “Focus on me,” Sal whispered, forehead brushing Eddie’s. “Just me.” Lightning cracked, illuminating the room in a harsh flash. Thunder slammed seconds later, and Eddie flinched hard beneath him—but Sal stayed right there, solid and unmoving, holding Eddie’s head gently between his hands like something precious. “I’ve got you,” Sal murmured. “You’re safe. I’ve got you.” Eddie’s chest rose and fell too quickly. Sal didn’t speak—he just stayed with him, thumbs stroking gently against Eddie’s temples. “I couldn’t move. Couldn’t even get to him. He wasn’t breathing.” Eddie’s voice cracked. “I thought I watched him die.” “I know,” Sal whispered. “I know, Tesoro. You don’t have to carry that alone anymore.” Eddie’s hands gripped the sides of Sal’s thighs where they bracketed him, holding on. Sal kept his palms firm, blocking the worst of the outside world while keeping Eddie tethered to this moment. “You’re doing so good,” Sal said softly, leaning in until their noses brushed. He kissed Eddie’s forehead, then his cheek, slow and reverent. Eddie turned his face, catching Sal’s mouth with his own. The kiss was deep. Unhurried. Full of everything Eddie couldn’t say yet. And though Sal couldn’t use his hands, he kissed back just as fully, just as fiercely—his body doing the rest. He shifted his hips lower, pressing against Eddie, anchoring him completely. Eddie moaned softly into his mouth, overwhelmed but not by fear. By closeness. By heat. By the way Sal didn’t try to fix the storm—just shielded him from it with his whole self. Thunder cracked again, but muffled by Sal’s touch, it barely landed. Eddie flinched, a flicker—but he didn’t pull away. “You okay?” Sal murmured, breath ghosting over Eddie’s lips. “Yeah,” Eddie whispered. “Don’t stop.” Sal didn’t. He kissed him again, deeper this time. His weight stayed balanced, firm but careful. His hands never left Eddie’s ears, even as the rest of him moved—hips gently rocking, lips dragging along Eddie’s jaw, his throat. He couldn’t hold Eddie the way he wanted to, but he didn’t need to. Eddie was already opening beneath him, surrendering to the quiet rhythm of being seen, protected, wanted. “I’ve got you,” Sal said again, breathless now, kissing along the edge of Eddie’s ear, the skin behind it. “I’m right here.” And Eddie—held in place, sealed off from the chaos outside—finally let go. The thunder kept rolling, but it didn’t matter. Because all he could feel was Sal. Warm. Steady. His.

When the storm finally passed and the sky quieted to a dull, wet hush, they lay tangled together beneath the covers, skin damp with heat and lingering adrenaline. Sal gently moved his hands away from Eddie’s ears, replacing them with slow touches—his knuckles against Eddie’s jaw, the brush of his thumb over his cheek.

Eddie exhaled like it was the first full breath he’d taken all night. “You didn’t let go,” he murmured, voice hoarse. “Never will,” Sal whispered.

They didn’t talk about what had just happened. They didn’t need to. Sal just lay there, one leg hooked over Eddie’s, a hand splayed across his chest, feeling the steady beat of the heart he had helped anchor back to the world. Eddie’s fingers played absently with the edge of Sal’s shirt like he was trying to keep hold of something real.

Eventually, sleep found them again—not because the fear disappeared, but because safety had been louder.

And after that, this became something Sal did to comfort Eddie—first during the storms, when the thunder rumbled low and the lightning flashed bright, and then anytime the shadows crept in or the past clawed at him. Sal learned how to be the steady anchor Eddie needed, holding him close, whispering soft reassurances, grounding him with nothing but presence and touch.

It wasn’t about fixing the fear or chasing away the memories—it was about showing up, again and again, a quiet promise that Eddie didn’t have to face the storm alone.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

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BUCKTOMMY NATION!!

"Girlie" being gender neutral of course