#firefighter

[beccawise7]

Huge Shout-out to all our Firefighter family & friends battling the LA County fires.

Prayers up! Stay safe! 🙏✌️

#firefamily

[weezord-leezords]

Via FB

I’ve posted about a bearded dragon that had to be rescued by fire fighters—here’s one that just fights fires 👍

[blueeyestuds]

[giotanner]

Firefighter Evan "Buck" Buckley with (what will become) the Diaz family cat

Instagram | art commissions

[lumidrawss]

My Buddie Week of Wips 🔥

These are sketches I did on Twitter a while ago, where I posted a different one every day. I made them during the day and uploaded them at night. It was a fun week!

At the end of the week, I ran a poll asking which one I should fully color and render… and of course (because you guys always love the dirty stuff), the winner was the WIP from day 6! ....these are just rough sketches....I usually redraw them (the lineart) because there are a bunch of small mistakes in all of them. But it was a fun way to come up with ideas for future drawings :)

If you wanna see how it turned out, check out my Patreon....there's the uncensored version and an extra pose too!

Patreon (+18 content): patreon.com/lumidrawss sneak peak (cut and blur version)😏

[chixliv]

[buckybarnesluvr]

Let Me Burn It Out

//Pairing// Eddie Diaz x Fem!Reader

//Summary// After a devastating shift leaves Eddie raw and unraveling, he comes home desperate to feel something

//Word Count// 1.1k

//Warnings// munch!Eddie Diaz, mentions of death, rough sex, angst/emotional distress, explicit sexual content (PIV, orgasm, dirty talk)

The front door slammed so hard it rattled the frame.

You didn’t flinch. Not anymore. You knew that sound—the way it always came on the heels of the worst kind of shift. The kind that left blood on Eddie’s uniform and silence in his soul.

You stayed curled on the couch, legs tucked beneath you, phone dimming in your hand. The air shifted when he entered. You could feel the storm in his body before you even saw his face.

He didn’t say a word as he tossed his turnout coat to the floor. It landed with a thud, still smelling like smoke and sweat and asphalt. His shirt clung to his chest, soaked through, muscles tense like he was still bracing for a collapse.

“Bad call?” you asked gently.

Eddie didn’t answer. He stood there, chest rising and falling fast, jaw ticking like he was chewing through regret. You saw it in his eyes—the residue of something awful. Something he couldn’t fix. Someone he couldn’t save.

“Eddie…”

That broke him.

“I watched a kid die,” he choked, voice so low you barely caught it. “Held pressure on his chest for ten minutes before I realized it didn’t matter. He was already gone.”

You stood slowly, heart aching. “Come here.”

But he didn’t move. Just shook his head like he was barely holding himself together. “I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to process it. I don’t want to fucking breathe right now.”

Your eyes met his, and there it was, the need. Twisted up in grief and fury and something else only you ever got to see. The desperate hunger to feel instead of remember.

He took one step toward you. Then another.

By the time he reached you, the heat coming off his body was suffocating. He raised a hand, hesitant at first, then cupped the side of your neck, thumb brushing your jaw.

“I need you,” he whispered, throat tight. “I need to fuck you so hard I forget the sound of that mother’s scream.”

You swallowed hard. Not out of fear—but from the raw honesty bleeding from him.

You grabbed his shirt, fisting the fabric over his chest. “Then do it.”

And just like that, the dam broke.

His mouth crashed into yours, all teeth and tongue and breathless groans. He gripped your face, your waist, your ass—everywhere at once, like he was trying to mold you into his hands. You clung to him as he walked you backward, stumbling toward the wall, knocking into furniture on the way. Neither of you cared.

The kiss turned messy. Angry. Like he was punishing himself for feeling good. Like you were the only thing keeping him from falling apart.

“Fuck,” he hissed, dragging your shirt up and over your head. “You always look at me like I’m worth something.”

“You are,” you breathed, barely able to think with the way he was touching you—rough, fast, starving.

He didn’t respond with words. Just shoved your panties down and lifted your leg around his waist, grinding against you through his jeans. You could feel how hard he was already.

“I need to be inside you. Now.”

Then he unzipped, shoved his boxers down just enough, and lined himself up.

And when he thrust into you—deep and unforgiving—you swore you saw heaven behind your eyelids.

The stretch was sharp, borderline brutal, and you gasped, nails digging into his shoulders as he bottomed out in one hard thrust. No teasing. No build-up. Just pure, pent-up fire pouring out of him and into you.

“Jesus,” he growled, forehead pressing to yours. “You always take me so fucking well.”

You could barely breathe, let alone speak. He didn’t give you a chance to adjust, just set a punishing pace, thrusting into you like he was trying to bury the pain inside your body instead of his own.

Every movement was desperate. Powerful. Angry. His grip on your hips tightened, fingertips digging in like he wanted to leave a mark—needed proof that he was still here, still alive, still capable of feeling something that wasn’t death and failure.

You moaned his name, voice catching on each thrust. He shoved your other leg up, wrapping both around his waist, pinning you to the wall like you weighed nothing.

“You’re mine,” he hissed, breath hot against your cheek. “Say it.”

“I’m yours,” you gasped, head falling back, fingers tangled in his hair. “Only yours.”

He snapped his hips harder, deeper, hitting that spot that made your whole body seize. His hand slid up, fingers around your throat—not squeezing, just holding, grounding himself in your pulse.

“Look at me,” he demanded again. “Don’t you fucking look away. I need to see you come.”

You did. You locked eyes with him, even as your body trembled, even as your walls clenched around him, fluttering dangerously close to release.

“I’m gonna—Eddie—”

“Yeah, baby. Come for me. Right now. Let me feel it.”

Your orgasm slammed into you like a wave breaking over rocks—violent, electric, all-consuming. You cried out, hands clawing at his back, your walls pulsing around him with rhythmic, desperate need.

He groaned, loud and broken, losing rhythm as your body milked him. His thrusts turned erratic—deeper, slower, like he was chasing the last flicker of control.

Then he slammed into you once, twice, and stilled.

His release hit with a grunt, buried deep inside you. His whole body shuddered, arms locking tight around you as if you could anchor him to the earth.

You stayed there, clinging to him, your bodies sticky and sweat-soaked, your hearts racing in sync. His head dropped to your shoulder. For the first time since he walked through the door, he exhaled like the weight on his chest had finally cracked.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered hoarsely. “I didn’t mean to be—”

“You weren’t too much,” you interrupted, pressing a kiss to the side of his head. “You were just… hurting. And I can take it. All of it.”

He pulled back to look at you, really look at you, and for the first time that night, his eyes weren’t wild. They were soft. Wet. Human.

“I don’t deserve you,” he murmured.

“You do,” you said. “Every broken, bruised piece of you. You deserve someone who sees all of it and stays.”

His lips found yours again—this time slow. Tender. Grateful.

“I’m not done with you tonight,” he murmured against your mouth. “Not even close.”

Your pulse kicked back up. “Then take me to bed, Diaz.”

He smiled, dark and wicked. “With pleasure.”

[vormela]

[beccawise7]

My cousin's fire team is working the Palisade Fire. If you could keep them in your thoughts & prayers... For safety. For strength. I would greatly appreciate it. The firefighters are exhausted, undermanned and have little water. None in some areas.

Prayers. Well wishes. Hope... Whatever you believe in. I believe in being the best possible human I can be. My heart hurts for the people in California right now & the emergency personnel battling these fires.

Thank you so much. ~beccawise7💜🖤

[damnwhattaman]

🔥

[allthecanadianpolitics]

Canada's emergency preparedness minister says Canadian military personnel, their equipment and another 250 firefighters stand "ready to support our American neighbours" as wildfires devastate parts of Southern California.  Harjit Sajjan says in a social media post that "Team Canada, with Ontario, Quebec, and Alberta, is ready to deploy 250 firefighters, aircraft equipment, and other resources as early as" Thursday night.  Sajjan's pledge comes as the Canadian Interagency Forest Fire Centre said Thursday that the U.S. National Interagency Fire Centre asked for two of its CL-415 Skimmer Airtankers to join the fight against the fires. "The request is being actioned but the delivery timeline is currently unavailable," the agency said in an email to The Canadian Press. "We are also proactively working to identify potential resource availability, should more requests come in.

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Tagging: @newsfromstolenland

[naditwombly]

"Save my life and i save yours." BuckTommy Love ❤️

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PRINTS on my shop: link in bio MORE ARTWORKS and RENDERINGS on patreon: link in my bio

[rozz0]

[lumidrawss]

Eddie Diaz takes all the love and attention 🥵💋

[chixliv]

i have TWO things to say about what they should do in season 9:

1.bring bobby back from the dead

2.bring eddies moustache back

that’s it,thank you for the attention.