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exhuastedpigeon · 5 months

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12 days of fandom - day 7

I want to spotlight a few WIPs that aren't finished yet, which means we've got something to look forward to in 2024 :)

To me, it's really important to read and celebrate WIPs as well as completed fics. I know that it can be really disheartening to be writing a fic and posting it and not feel like people are reading it or enjoying it because there's been a shift in fandom toward only reading completed works. Read some WIPs people! It's like getting a little gift every time a new chapter comes out. I've waited years between chapters and get so excited when new ones come out. Just don't be an asshole and pester the author about when the next chapter is coming.

Alright, Cowboy, Go Get 'Em by thewolvesof1998/@thewolvesof1998 Explicit || 16k || 2/3 chapters Different first meeting where Buck is a bull rider in the rodeo and Eddie is recently home from the army, living in El Paso, and gets dragged to the rodeo with some buddies while it's in town. It's so spicy and I'm obsesssssed.

The Lost and The Found by Spotsandsocks/@spotsandsocks Mature || 46k || 5/10 chapters The shifter fic!! Eddie's a shifter who has locked his wolf away, the rest of the firefam are shifters. Eddie doesn't know they're shifters, they don't know he is (besides Bobby because Bobby knows all). Except there's more to the story... a connection between Buck and Eddie that goes back to childhood. I LOVE THIS FIC. I'm living for the updates. It's so fun.

let you set the pace by devirnis/@devirnis Explicit || 10k || 1/2 chapters This fic is so hot! Free use fic that is just ... so spicy. You have to read it.

Precious & Fragile Things by Daisies_and_Briars/@cal-daisies-and-briars Teen || 12k || 5/? chapters Buck is the fallen angel of petty temptation, tasked by Maddie (who has not fallen) to tempted Eddie into enjoying life. This fic has been so great so far! It's a cool study on what could have happened to Eddie (and Chris) if Buck hasn't been around during .. well everything with Shannon and the childcare situation. I've loved getting the update emails!

Maybe More Than I Should by Leslie_Knope Mature || 39k || 4/5 chapters Teacher!Buck!!! This fic is SO DAMN GOOD. Buck is Christopher's teacher, he and Eddie end up becoming friends and maybe they're on their way to something more once Chris isn't one of Buck's students. Featuring divorced Eddie and Shannon working on how to co-parent, the firefam, and so a truly wonderful exploration of Buck and Eddie's friendship.

grip me like an animal (be good to me) by extasiswings/@extasiswings Explicit || 11k || 2/4 chapters WERWOLVES!! It's probably the Sterek/Teen Wolf in me but I'm a sucker for a werewolf AU. I love them so much and this one is great! Bitten wolf!Buck and born wolf!Eddie, it gives us the usual first meeting tension with a werewolf twist.

Rules: everyday for 12 days in December, choose a fandom work from any fandom from 2023 that you loved. It can be anything you like (a gifset, a drabble, fanart, a fic or just a post that made you laugh) Reblog the post and add comment or tags about why you love it. Tag your post with #12 days of fandom

no pressure tagging @monsterrae1 @loserdiaz @devirnis @wikiangela @hippolotamus @callmenewbie @jeeyuns @thewolvesof1998 @daffi-990 @wildlife4life @spotsandsocks @malewifediaz @spagheddiediaz @eddiebabygirldiaz @rainbow-nerdss @rosieposiepuddingnpie @underwater-ninja-13 @steadfastsaturnsrings @organizedstardust @cal-daisies-and-briars

#12 days of fandom #day 7 #buddie

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theclaravoyant · 6 days

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Crash

AN ~ For Anon who prompted "Eddie + Bobby + Angst" !!! 7x08 gave me so much inspiration fuel I went back and watched some favourite eps and have been blasting Happy - Pink on repeat. Eddie Diaz breakdown fic lets GO.

**Please note this fic contains references to alcoholism, mental illness and self harming behaviours compatible with show canon.** And Catholicism. Because EddieBobby. No Christophers were harmed in the making of this fic.

Angst, Hurt/Comfort. Written after 7x08. Set near-future, no further spoilers.

Read on AO3 (~2000wd)

Crash

“... and she's been dropping hints about that new laptop she wants,” Bobby scrolls through his phone, frowning at the differences between some of May's options. Does he understand what RAM means? Because he thought he did, but he's starting to think he really doesn't. “Whatever happened to cars? Classic graduation gift.”

“She bought herself her own car, with her dispatch money,” Athena points out. “Albeit with a bit of help. No child of mine is driving anything without a hundred points and every airbag known to man. Drivers are animals. I always learnt; drive like everyone else on the road is an idiot, and I tell you, it hasn't steered me wrong yet.”

She rolls her eyes, as �� right on cue - they turn the corner and are enveloped in a crush of traffic and honking and nonsense typical of looky-loos rubber-necking an accident. She glances around too – she's only human. It seems small at least; only one or two civilian vehicles have pulled off the side of the road.

“Maybe a fender bender?” Bobby posits, but he shifts uncomfortably in his seat. Athena feels it too.

Then they see the accident. Well. The back half of the front portion of it. A big grey truck has swerved and plummeted down the road shoulder and buried itself in a tree. And it's smoking. And the truck looks familiar.

“Isn't that--?”

“Pull over.”

Athena's already doing it before Bobby even moves. He can hardly get his seatbelt off and the door open fast enough, and leaves Athena to manage the scene as he all but throws himself over the remaining railing and down through the brush. He tries to get a look in the back windows. It's tough with the vegetation and the angle of the setting sun, but he clears the vehicle of passengers. It's just the driver. A portly civilian has been knocking and waving on the drivers side door, clearly trying to get the occupant's attention; he turns when he hears Bobby coming, and backs away immediately, relieved at the sight of someone who clearly knows what they're doing.

“It's just one guy in there,” he says. “He's hit his head something fierce. I think he's hurt.”

Bobby nods. I think he's hurt, I think he's hurt. He clenches his jaw, fighting terror as he wrenches the damaged door open against its will.

“Eddie!” he cries. “Can you hear me?”

He battles the airbag out of the way. Notices a smear of blood on it, and more on the glass of the windshield. The air stinks of burning rubber. But Eddie's breathing. His heart is beating – his pulse is strong as anything, and Bobby thanks God for this mercy as his own heart decides to stay in his chest after all.

Eddie moans, and blinks drowsily, and after a long moment he turns ever so slightly toward the sound of Bobby's voice.

“Hey, Cap.”

–

After diagnosing Eddie with the concussion from hell and fortunately, very little else, they pack into Athena's car, and pass the rest of the trip in silence back to the Grant-Nash house. With his ankle in a splint and a cold press for his pounding head, Eddie lingers as the knot of metal that remains of his car limps up the driveway behind them. The tow truck drops it like a marionette with cut strings and his gut twists. He's seen enough cars that look like this to be grateful that he'd had the presence of mind to pick something with a decent crush zone, but he can still hear the screech of the brakes. Numbly, he thinks: Shannon was hit by a car.

“Eddie?” Bobby calls. “Still with us?”

“I could have killed someone.”

“You could have died.”

“But I didn't.”

“No. You didn't.”

Eddie turns to catch his quiet, concerned eyes. Eyes that know what it's like – to implode, and take everybody else down with you.

“Want some help?” Bobby asks, and Eddie's so grateful he doesn't have to ask that he could just about cry then and there. He lets Bobby pull him close, tuck him against his side and help him into the house and up the stairs. His ankle's actually not doing too badly, all things considered, but the shock is starting to wear off and he can feel himself shaking. Bobby pretends for a moment, not to notice The Other Thing.

“Buck's on his way to your place,” he advises as they slowly climb. “He's going to make sure Christopher knows what's happened and gets to school and everything tomorrow. Be prepared for several hundred messages if your phone decides to rejoin the living.”

“Thanks,” Eddie says. He clenches his jaw. The fact that Christopher is safe at home right now – “I have to call him.”

“In a minute,” Bobby promises.

Eddie frowns, but he's not in a position to argue. His knees all but fail as he slumps from Bobby's shoulder to the bed. The room is spinning. He can hardly stand up on his own, or keep his eyes open – forget getting screens involved. Let alone how he's going to explain what just happened. He must look like Hell. “Guess I'll just. Sleep it off for a minute then.”

“I'll get you some Tylenol.”

“Thanks.”

But Bobby doesn't leave.

Eddie leans over his knees and pinches his nose. Hard. As if doing so will help clear his vision and relieve some of the pressure that's screaming inside. Bobby's voice, his eyes are so damn gentle and concerned it hurts – partly because of the whole head shaken around like a paint can thing but mostly because it reminds him that it didn't have to come to this. He didn't have to have the waves of grief and guilt and the clamping it down and turning the music up too loud just to drown out the thoughts and he put his foot down and SCREECH -

“Eddie. What happened?”

He could have just had this.

He swallows.

“I didn't do it on purpose, Bobby, I swear. I was just being stupid. I was speeding, I wasn't paying attention.”

I was crying so hard I couldn't see.

“How fast were you going?”

“I don't know. Eighty?”

“There? Why?”

“I don't know.”

He clenches a fist, as if that will help dislodge the lump that's been sitting on his chest for as long as he can remember. The thing inside him that's never felt normal.

“Were you drunk?”

“No.”

“Did you take anything?”

“No.”

“Are you fighting again?”

“Jesus, no, Bobby.” The lump rises up in his chest, pressing on his attention harder the more he tries to quell it. He bites back. “I don't have a death wish.”

I was crying so hard I couldn't see.

Music too loud, music I don't even like. I couldn't hear the horn until it was too late.

Bobby can see through him like glass. The man doesn't even flinch; he just takes a seat on the bed, an arm's reach away. Eddie bristles instinctively. Bobby has this capacity in moments like these to exude zen somehow and it's infuriating... but it's effective.

“I really don't,” Eddie promises, as earnestly as he can muster. A few stray tears sting the cuts on his face. “At least, I didn't think so 'til tonight. I've actually been doing really good. But then it's like – d'you ever feel like the happier you get, the more you know there's something wrong with you? And the thing that's wrong with you, it just – it can't let go? It has to be wrong. It just – it grabs you and jumps out of your chest and makes you want to blow up your entire life?”

“Actually, I do,” Bobby replies. His voice is steady; nowhere near as tortured as it has every right to be. “Did I ever tell you about my first relapse here in LA? It was before your time, back when I'd just moved out here. Almost made it to my first year sober. I was one day off. One day.”

“And you had a bad one?”

“No. A good one.”

Bobby waits a beat, for the surprise to pass over Eddie's face. Surprise, and then understanding. The happier you are...

“Things were starting to gel – with me, with work. Believe it or not these guys made me prove my mettle back in the day. And I was doing it. And I was going to my meetings and talking to my sponsor and everything and that day I'd really started to believe that things were good. I was getting better.” Bobby shakes his head. Sure, it's a learning experience, but he still feels the sting. “I used to tell myself I just wanted to celebrate and overestimated myself, but...”

It jumps out of your chest, and makes you want to blow up your entire life.

Eddie nods his understanding as the feeling lands. “You sabotaged yourself. You didn't feel like you deserved it.”

Bobby, curse him and bless him, makes a subtle little noise at the way Eddie has chosen to word it. If it were anyone but Bobby, it'd send him running for the hills. Talking about deserts? Prime Manchurian Catholic material.

“And here I thought you were 'lapsed.'” For a moment, there's just the lightest, gentlest tease to Bobby's voice. He knows how fragile this is. He takes a deep breath, and Eddie winces. He knows what's coming.

“What about you, Eddie? Do you think you deserve happiness?”

Yes. No.

Maybe.

It's a trick question.

“I... think,” he manages. “I think I don't know what that even means.”

“Let's start there, then,” Bobby advises. “Do you know what cognitive dissonance is?”

“Holding two beliefs at the same time. Contradicting yourself. Like... if everyone deserves happiness but I'm the exception to the rule.”

“Close,” Bobby says. “In this context I think it's more like, you know, deep in your heart, at a fundamental level, that you – Eddie - are deserving. But you also know, with the exact same amount of conviction, depending on the day, that you – Eddie – are not. There's no exception to the rule. It's just both.”

“That doesn't make any sense.”

“It doesn't, does it?” Bobby points out, sympathetic. “And sometimes, feeling that way can make us do things that don't seem to make any sense either, depending which side is winning in the moment.”

Eddie runs his hand over his face, hissing against the pain. He closes his eyes, and imagines smelling that candle. It's like it put him under some kind of spell. It was so nice, to give in to that ocean breeze. Happiness. Sabotage. And he just knows that's what that first sip must have tasted like after 364 days sober. Maybe that's why Bobby can apparently read his mind.

“How did you make it stop?”

“I didn't.”

“Great.”

“I mean,” Bobby corrects, “I stopped trying. I stopped grappling with the question of if I deserve happiness, or punishment, or any of those things. Now, I just try and remember that even flawed as I am, I am worthy of grace. And joy is part of that.”

Eddie can't help it, he laughs, and the tears are coming stronger now.

“You are such a damn Catholic,” he says, and shakes his head. “You're really telling me to trust in the Lord and not my own understanding, huh?”

Bobby laughs a little too, but he puts a firm hand on Eddie's shoulder; making sure he can feel the weight of what he's really trying to say.

“I'm telling you that you are worthy, Eddie. Even if you are a bad friend, a bad father, a bad person – which is not true, by the way. But even then. You are worthy of grace.”

“Mhmm.” Part of Eddie wants to push him away. But he doesn't. “Okay.”

Because it's sinking in and it's funny. Not ha-ha funny. But funny because he's grown up around words like faith and grace and deserving all his life and it feels like he's never quite understood it until this moment. Because when his parents taught him about grace, it and forgiveness were the same thing. It and deserving were the same thing. But here, under Bobby's gaze, he understands. Grace is unconditional. Even if he's not strong, even if he's not faithful. And he's neither right now. But worthy?

A sob breaks out of his chest. It shakes his head and it hurts and he howls in pain and self pity and then he can't stop.

Bobby pulls Eddie into his embrace, and lets him cry.

#eddie diaz #bobby nash #eddiebobby #tv: 911 #911 fic #clara's fic tag #prompt me stuff

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