tbh chimney has some of the best friendships on 911.
chimney and eli? his mentor, the reason he became a paramedic, the person he leaned on in boston?
chimney and tommy? his coworker who tells him point blank he wouldnt like him if he ever spared him a thought? and then chimney fucking risks his life to save him? and then they become besties who nerd out about movies together? i need chimtommy bestieism in s8 is2g.
chimney and hen? THE friendship of the whole show btw. dont challenge me i will fight u.
chimney and kevin aka his brother? rip kevin lee i wish we saw more of him 😔 chimney and albert aka his bio brother who is practically a stranger he meets when albert is already 20 but chimney welcomes him into his home anyway?
chimney and buck? chimney and bobby? chimney and karen? he even stepped between sal and bobby to stop the dumbass from doing something (even) dumb(er).
chimney han is simply a sweetie pie. irresistible to all around him. everyone loves him. everyone goes above and beyond for him. and they're not wrong for that because he deserves the whole world 🥰
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The thing I love most about this man is that he's always game for taking off his clothes when there's a camera around.
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Belly-Down in Spun Cotton
a tiny drarry fic (2.8k, rated E for sex) for my dearest @saintgarbanzo on his birthday. but very early, cause he’s impatient and so am I. so, a birthday-month gift!
many thanks to @cavendishbutterfly and @nv-md for the betas, @basicallyahedgehog for the cheering, and @shealynn88 for the garden/compost consult!! what a team, thank you all so much.
selected tags: animagus harry, devoted boyfriend draco, horny tboy harry, handsy draco, domestic fluff, harry in the garden, steam showers, enthusiastic blowjobs, cock means tcock henceforth, draco makes harry snack, harry eats with his hands
All Harry wants is to dive skin-first, belly-first, heart-first, into what he loves.
It's too far a journey from the kitchen door to the vegetable patch, so Harry leaves his clothes on the wooden slats of a chair he's pushed against the raised bed, perches his whole self, naked, on the seat, and transforms there.
This is his best system so far – the first time he barely made it down the three steps to the pathway before he entirely ran out of patience, and the time he tried to transform in the garden already, he squashed the pea tendrils, new and tender as they were.
From here, small in his shell, Harry can slowly ooze from the back of the chair to the edge of the garden bed, and then lower himself directly into the soil, into the soft, peppery overwhelm of the tomato patch. There's so much sensation down here.
It's a good day for this. Last night there was thunder, and the morning brought a high ceiling of pale grey sky. Harry's been waiting for the right weather, the right day, when he has as much time as he needs to soak everything in.
Mmm, the humus is so nice after a rain, Harry thinks, and then laughs to himself. It sounds ridiculous, this version of his inner monologue. What matters to him from this perspective. Humus-lover. Hummus-lover. He's both, he supposes.
read the rest on ao3
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I had this weird dream last night about this apocalyptic wasteland where nearly everyone was crazy and trying to kill me and my friend. It was wild. There were cannibals, biker gangs that wanted to run us over, raiders. There were also these humanoid bug people who turned out to be very nice and respectable. One of them got mugged and had all his food taken away and the plot of my dream was to get my wallet so I could get him more food.
I have weird dreams.
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