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Bobby’s kids

just a little plot bunny i had to get out

“Coming!” Buck called as he walked towards the front door. He swung it open to find May and Harry Grant standing on his porch. “Um, hi?”

“Good, you’re home!” May said, handing him two duffle bags.

Buck took them automatically. “What are these?”

“Harry’s bags,” May said, stepping into the front hallways and pulling Harry behind her. “You have a guest room now, right?”

“Yes?” Buck trailed after the two Grants. “Uh, what’s happening here?”

“Mom’s staying with me while she looks for a new place, so Harry’s staying with you,” May said.

Harry turned around to look at Buck. “Sorry, she said she had a friend I could stay with. I thought you knew we were coming.”

“I’m still confused,” Buck said, leading them down the hall to the guest room — he wasn’t going to leave Harry out in the cold, even if he had no idea why they were there. “I mean, don’t your grandparents live nearby?”

“They still give me a curfew,” Harry said, taking his bags from Buck and depositing them on the guest room bed.

“And I’m what, going to let you ‘party hard’?” Buck looked at him flatly. “Have you met your mom? She’d kill me.”

“Oh, she'd kill me too,” Harry agreed. “But I’m thinking your curfew might be later than nine o’clock.”

“Nine thirty,” Buck agreed. The Grant kids stared at him. “What? At your age you should be getting eight hours of sleep. So that’s, what, bed by ten or eleven depending when you wake up for school?”

May laughed at him. “If you can make that happen Mom’s going to make you keep him.”

“I don’t know if that’s supposed to be a threat or some kind of incentive.” Buck mused.

“You’re not actually going to make me go to bed then, are you?” Harry asked.

“Harry, put your clothes away while I talk to Buck,” May ordered, ignoring his question. She headed back towards the front door and Buck followed her.

“Great, now she’s bossing both of us around,” Buck heard Harry say from the guest room.

‘Thank you,” May said when they got to the front door. “My apartment was not meant for three adults — well, two adults and an almost adult.”

“May, um,” Buck lowered his voice, “are you sure your mom will be okay with this? She doesn’t actually like me that much.”

May reached up to put her hands on Buck’s shoulders. “My mom likes you a lot more than she’d ever say. She’ll be happy Bobby’s boys are taking care of each other.”

“May,” Buck protested.

May looked like she was fighting the urge to roll her eyes. “Anyone who knew you two longer than five minutes knew that. Don’t say you’re not, it would make him sad.”

She broke the moment by pulling an envelope out of her purse and handing it to him. “Grocery money. He’s a garbage disposal.”

“No, I can’t take your money,” Buck said, trying to hand it back to her.

“It’s not mine, it’s from Mom.”

“Does Athena — does your mom know that you’re giving me this?”

May shrugged. “She will.”

“May! I can't take money stolen from a police sergeant.”

May did roll her eyes this time. “I borrowed money from my mom so you can feed her son. No cops involved.”

“I will keep the receipts and give you back the change,” Buck promised.

“Garbage disposal,” May reminded him. “There won’t be change. But keep the receipts, we’ll pay you back.” She held out her hand. “Phone please.”

Buck handed it over and watched as May added in her and Harry’s numbers. “I already have Ath— your mom’s,” he told her.

“Perfect,” she handed it back after she had sent herself a text from his phone. “He makes really good waffles, by the way, but he kind of sucks at dinner food.”

“Hey!” Harry protested, having reemerged from the guest room.

May pulled him into a hug. Buck had a brief flash of Maddie hugging him the same way, pulling him down and squeezing him just on the edge of too tight. May released her brother and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“Bye!” May said brightly, waving to Buck as she breezed out of his house.

Buck waited until her car left the driveway. “Alright, let’s go,” he said to Harry.

“Where are we going?” Harry asked curiously, following Buck as he grabbed his grabbed his keys and headed out the door.

“I gave my spares to Maddie and Ravi, we need to get a new key cut for you,” Buck explained. “And maybe tacos. You like tacos?”

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No one tells you when you get a Big Serious Job™ how many fucking abbreviations you’ll be forced to learn.

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I’m pretty sure that Australians don’t have more then maybe 30-50k MAX people on tumblr. Like American had some 30 million users in 2020 (aka basically probably peak over the last 7 2018-2025) while Australia only has 26-28million people depending on who you ask (27 to be safe) so I’m just genuinely curious how many of us there must be on here.

If you Currently live in OR were born / raised in Australia and ID as (born/raised + ID, as I know a lot of born/raised here don’t ID as Aussie) you are Australian in this poll!

Please reblog for bigger sample size

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I’ll never understand why anthropomorphic animal cartoons like Robin Hood and Zootopia will go to the trouble of creating character designs that are meant to be understood as “attractive” or even “sexy” to the human audience but explicitly avoid showing interspecies romances between anthropomorphic animals. Why is THAT weird but, like, trying to make rabbits recognizably sexy-coded to humans isn’t?

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Dear BuckTommy writers: I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU!

That's all. Thanks for the fix-its. Thanks for the fluff. Keep going, you're amazing, and every single one of you should be able to write for tv show ships. I know I said this before and maybe you think I'm an idiot for making such a post again. But I want you to know over and over how you stitch together my broken shipper heart one fic at a time.

Love you, in case that wasn't clear.

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Yes I’m on holiday 14,000km from home. Yes I’m sitting in a park booping the moots

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Spoopy boopy

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surely the conses wont quence

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8x01 Fuck-it Friday Coda

I'm back!!! The writing beans came to me and I had to write a post b-day scene. Hope ya'll enjoy!!! (Using this as my Fuck-it Friday as well!) Posted to A03 as well.

Tommy tried to apologize, tried to offer to help clean up, and suggested to give Buck a ride home. 

“Don’t” was Eddie’s first response before the apology could even get past the older man’s lips.

“I’ll deal with it later.” Was his second.

And Buck, merely shook his head and lead the pilot to the front door, hugging him in the doorway with too soft words Eddie doesn’t even try to catch.

He stays seated on the couch, laptop still closed, cone hate crushed in his fist and the stupid noise maker at his feet. Another birthday passing through a lagging computer screen. Another person he loves upset and angry for his choices.

Except there’s silence that echoes around him instead of the bustle of an army encampment. His body isn’t weighed down by miliary gear and the ever presence fear of dying in the sands of war.  Eddie is no longer that man in his early 20’s, running from his problems. Now he’s just a man in his mid-thirties, watching his son run away from him.

The couch dips to his right and warmth seeps into his numb body.  It spreads around his back and over his left shoulder.  The band of muscles around him, flex, pulling Eddie deeper and pushing the numbness further away.

Eddie doesn’t even try to fight it.  He closes his eyes, tipping his body sideways and burying his face into his best friend’s shoulder.

Buck doesn’t say anything.  He doesn’t try to apologize or offer to help clean, and he doesn’t suggest leaving Eddie to wallow alone. Because he doesn’t need to say any of those things.

Apologies from Buck aren’t going to salvage the failed birthday surprise.  Offers to clean the dollar store decorations and store-bought cupcakes will in no way make a dent in the disarray that is Eddie’s relationship with his son. And Eddie knows better than anyone, Buck is never going to leave him alone in this mess.

Side by side they sit in the silence that has been lingering since Christopher left for Texas.  Eddie breaths in the mixture of Buck’s cologne, laundry detergent, and something that is just uniquely Buck.  He takes breath after breath, and Buck matches each one with his own. Same rhythm. Same speed. Same heartache.

They sit there for minutes, hours, maybe even the rest of evening. The time didn’t matter, but this moment did, and Eddie needed to stay in it for just a little longer. He needed the line of warmth from Buck to chase away the remaining ache. He needed just a few more deep breaths with Buck’s scent lingering in the back of his throat. He needed Buck to keep holding onto him. He needed the silence to try and remember the echoes of previous birthdays where Christopher didn’t scoff, but smiled and laughed and returned his father’s hugs. He needed his son back.

But at this moment, his son didn’t need him.

It sobers Eddie, admitting that and he comes back to himself, breaking the bubble he secluded himself in with Buck.

He pulls his head from Buck’s shoulder and with a squeeze of his hand to Buck’s knee, Buck drops his arm, but the strength of his support remains. And when Eddie rises to his feet, disconnecting himself from Buck’s side, his warmth, his love, clings and doesn’t allow the numbness to return.

The silence is still there. The hurt and echoes of laughter’s past still resonance around them. There is still a mess. But Eddie isn’t alone with any of it.

Buck grabs the trash bag he laid out earlier and plucks the crumpled party hat from Eddie’s laxed grip. It makes the slightest rustle when dropped in the bag and again when followed by Buck’s red one.

“No cone hats next year, they’re uncomfortable.” Buck states as he tosses Tommy’s discarded blue hat in.

He reaches for the noise maker on the floor and Eddie manages to allow the smallest spark of hope to erupt with a tiny smile, “What do you suggest instead?”

The noise maker disappears into the trash bag and Buck’s eyes catch Eddie’s, lighting up with giddiness, “Depends.  Disney has the mickey ears, but what about universal? Shrek ears? Troll hair? Minion bald caps?”

A grand birthday plan is already in the works for Christopher’s 15th. Because Buck could see past pool clubs and renovation talks. He is seeing past the tangles in Eddie’s and Christopher’s distant relationship, beyond the anger and sadness.  His hope is larger than a single spark and one day, it will charge Eddie’s own.

One day, but not today.  So, Eddie shakes his head at Buck’s hat contemplations and makes his way over to the cupcake stand that is only missing one. “You’re baking these next year.” Eddie says softly.

Buck comes up behind him beaming, “You’re helping.”

Exactly what he needed to hear.

Tagging for fuck-it friday (no pressure): @colonoscopys @mattsire @bigfootsmom @tidesreach @kitteneddiediaz

@inell @pansysgothgf @smilingbuckley @shitouttabuck @dangerpronebuddie

@bucks-daddy-issues @tizniz @aroeddiediaz @cal-daisies-and-briars @lemonzestywrites

@diazsdimples @daffi-990 @diazheartsbuckley @transboybuckley @rainbow-nerdss

@theotherbuckley @lover-of-mine @jeeyuns @watchyourbuck @exhuastedpigeon

@spaceprincessem @starlingbite @glorious-spoon @jesuisici33 @hippolotamus

@prosperdemeter2 @try-set-me-on-fire @homerforsure @bekkachaos @honestlydarkprincess

@thekristen999 @sibylsleaves @mellaithwen @lonelychicago @tawaifeddiediaz

@fruitydiaz @monsterrae1 @elvensorceress @gayhoediaz @captain-hen

@eddiebabygirldiaz

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MY 911 WHITE COLLAR REWATCH CHAT WHERE ARE YOU WAKE UP

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Seaneen Watts

magpie taken from a rear camera on a bike helmet.

Australia

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Chapter three is live (I hope!) AO3 throwing out all kinds of errors every time I update this one.