#glad to be finished with the bombing … but out of the frying pan and straight into the fire with the tsunami coming up 😅

[daffi-990]

Tease Tidbit Tuesday

Tagged by the wonderful @diazsdimples. Thank you for the tag 😘

More ladder truck bombing feeeeeeels! I finally finished the bombing and so that’s a wrap on Chapter Six of Rival Firefighters 🚒! (now to give the boys a small break until I hit them with the tsunami 😅).

Buck’s screams echo into the night, eventually dying off as he’s moved onto the gurney, his eyes fluttering shut as the pain becomes too much and he slips into unconsciousness.

“Hospital is four minutes away, okay.” Hen says and Eddie doesn’t know if she’s trying to reassure him, Buck or herself.

His hand is still clasped in Buck’s and even though Buck is unconscious and his grip has gone slack, Eddie’s not letting go. He climbs into the ambulance and it's only there, knowing Buck is on his way to the hospital where he’ll get the help he needs, does Eddie let his own tears fall. He uses the hand not holding Buck’s to shakily move a bloody curl from Buck’s forehead, his fingers gently running down the side of his face in the ghost of a caress.

Tonight he almost lost his partner, his best friend, his - his Buck, and even though he didn’t, even though the proof is lying right in front of him, the beep beep beep of Buck’s heart still beating, Eddie feels like his chest has been cut open, like his heart has been left exposed. He doesn’t know how to stitch the tattered remains of his chest back together to keep it safe. Thinks his heart might just fall right out and nestle itself against Buck, staying close until bright blue eyes and an even brighter smile are lighting up the world again.

As they arrive at the hospital and Buck is wheeled past the sliding doors, Eddie thinks that yes, his heart has followed right along with him.

No pressure tagging: @hippolotamus @wikiangela @disasterbuckdiaz @wildlife4life @watchyourbuck @exhuastedpigeon @elvensorceress @eddiebabygirldiaz @evanbegins @steadfastsaturnsrings @spotsandsocks @thewolvesof1998 @theotherbuckley @rainbow-nerdss @rewritetheending @the-likesofus @tizniz @puppyboybuckley @athenagranted @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @shitouttabuck @devirnis @fortheloveofbuddie @fiona-fififi @giddyupbuck @hoodie-buck @homerforsure @honestlydarkprincess @jesuisici33 @jeeyuns @lover-of-mine @ladydorian05 @loserdiaz @captain-hen @clusterbuck @bekkachaos @spagheddiediaz @monsterrae1 @malewifediaz @nmcggg and anyone else I may have missed and wants to play ❤️

#fic: stuck now so long we just got the start wrong #rival firefighters fic #daffi writes #buddie wip #buddie #glad to be finished with the bombing … but out of the frying pan and straight into the fire with the tsunami coming up 😅

[screensirenfic]

Black Leather - Chapter 5

When Eleven had knocked on the door of my room at five in the morning; I’d half expected the typical complaint of a nightmare that had been so commonplace back when Sara was around.

To my surprise, she looked anything but spooked when I opened the door; eyes already wide and perky from an early start of kids TV.

“Happy Halloween.” She said; sounding more like an alien come to earth to learn our traditions, than any sincere well wisher, but I smiled anyway, because it was cute that the kid was trying to be normal.

“It’s four in the morning.” I stated; arms crossed across my chest despite the smile peaking on my face.

She just stared at me; brown eyes comically large as the Scooby Doo Theme filled the silence.

“Is there a reason you’re waking me up this early, or are you just being super prepared?” I asked; already aware that if I wanted to uncover the kids true intentions, I’d have to pull them from her like teeth.

“Costume.” She stated; the word seemingly unrelated if not for the worn bedsheet clutched in her fingertips.

I took it from her, inspecting the pulls of the threads and the discolouration of stains spread across the fabric.

“You know; usually people only wear costumes because they’re gonna go trick or treating or something...” I stated, still not quite understanding where she’d found a sheet that should’ve been thrown out years ago.

“I want to go trick or treating.” She stated; the sentence so broken that you could almost believe English was her second language.

I looked at her; those big brown eyes still staring up at me with all the conviction of a blood Hopper.

I really should say no. Dad would lose his shit if he thought for one minute she was going outside the cabin.

Still; there was no harm in indulging her, not really. And just maybe dad was having a good day this week; stranger things had happened.

——————————————————-

Springing Eleven’s costume on dad mid-breakfast prep probably wasn’t the smartest idea, but the longer I’d wait; the less chance the kid had of doing anything but watching Munster reruns for the rest of Halloween.

She looked cute in her little ghost costume; the whole homemade sheet thing looking very E.T., and judging by the way dad jumped at the sight of her; the classics still had some life left in them.

“Oh; Jesus!” He exclaimed, nearly dropping the hot pan he’d been frying bread on moments earlier.

“Ghost.” She said, repeating the word she’d heard on Scooby Doo mere hours ago.

“Yeah; I can see that...” He agreed; his voice already strained as he shovelled slightly burnt toast onto plates, and already I knew this was gonna be a hard sell.

“Cute; right?” I asked; hoping our shared affection for the kid might break down a few walls and put us on an even playing field.

He just mumbled in agreement, avoiding eye contact as he dumped the hot pan into a sink full of water; his lack of words a clear signal that no; he wasn’t willing to negotiate with us.

“Halloween.” Eleven stated to him; the word harder now than it had been with me, as if she’d already picked up on how exactly this conversation was going to go.

“Sure is...” Dad lilted; sarcasm dripping from the tone, because Hopper’s were nothing if not painfully dry in their sense of humour.

“But right now it’s breakfast; okay.” He continued; sounding overly patronising before returning to normal. “Come on. Let’s eat.”

“They wouldn’t see me.” Eleven petitioned;  already launching straight into negotiations with all guns blazing.

“Who wouldn’t see you?” Dad asked calmly as he made his way over to the kitchen table; already deciding he’d humour her for now.

“The bad men.” Eleven stated; the words coming across as painfully naive.

“What are you talking about?” Dad asked, scrunching up his brows as he sat down to eat.

“Trick or treat.” Eleven said; adding my words to her arsenal like they were bomb shells.

“Wait; what?” Dad asked; the reality of the exact type of negotiation he’d just been roped in on dawning upon him.

“I said I’d take her out trick or treating tonight...” I jumped in, hoping to save her from some of dad’s scorn when he inevitably blowed on us.

“Wait, wait, wait...” Dad interrupted me; already well versed in the ritual of Hopper to Hopper negotiation, and knowing I could hammer my point home harder than a home run.

“You said she could go trick or treating?” He spat the words like they were curses; bitter sounding and hard to pronounce.

“Yeah; I knew you wouldn’t let her go alone, and I figured you wouldn’t get back in time, so I thought...” I peddled in with my hastily rehearsed pitch, knowing that the more words I could cram in; the better chance I had of winning him over.

“Lola...” Dad got to his feet; disapproval dripping from his tone to match the frown on his face. “You both know the rules...”

I sighed, rolling my eyes because I already knew this battle was lost, but poor sweet naive El still had some fight in her.

“Yes, but...” She butted in; hope still bright in her eyes as she blocked dad’s path to the front door.

He was already resorting to the Hopper’s go to escape tactic when it came to emotional confrontation; all out denial.

“So you already know the answer...” He insisted, attempting to slide past her despite her superior agility.

“No, but they wouldn’t see me...” She continued, desperation peaking in her voice as she realised the moment dad walked out that door, it was game over.

“Come on, dad!” I petitioned, because really; this was petty even for him. The least he could do was let the kid loose once in a while.

“I don’t care!” Dad stated; anger rising up through his veneer of calm, his patience already worn thin.

“But they wouldn’t see me...” El continued to plead; tears breaking her voice slightly.

“I don’t care; alright?!” Dad insisted, crouching down to her meagre height so he could look her in the eyes.

“You go out there; Ghost or not, and it’s a risk.” Dad explained, and in any other situation it would seem sensible, if not for the overwhelming paranoia that led him to keep her trapped here all these months.

“And you...” Dad turned to me, pointing a damning finger like a proclamation of guilt. “You should know better.”

I rolled my eyes once more, because there was nothing more I could do; he’d already won.

“You go out there and I can’t protect you. Lola can’t protect you...” Dad stated with that same calm firm voice he’d used on me a hundred times before.

Eleven looked at him; eyes wide, but not as bright. She was already accepting defeat.

“Look; we don’t take risks, alright?” Dad continued, finally returning to his role as reasonable father, and not domineering patriach.

“They’re stupid, and...”

“We’re not stupid.” Eleven finished the sentence for him, repeating the mantra he’d drummed into her a thousand times before.

“Exactly.” Dad smiled, happy that he’d put down our little uprising without so much as a grounding.

“Now you go and take that shit off and sit down and eat. Your food’s getting cold...”

Eleven retreated into her room and I took that as my cue to leave, before dad’s attention finally turned to who he viewed as the instigator of this new push for independence.

I ducked across the room, grabbing my backpack and swiping my keys off the kitchen counter.

“Uh; where do you think you’re going?” Dad asked; easily slipping back into his scolding tone like a comfy pair of slippers.

“To school.” I stated blankly. I wasn’t about to have a shouting match now; not when I already had so much on my mind.

“Uh no; you get over here and sit down. We’ve got things to talk about.” Dad instructed, and as much as I’d like to disobey him and rush out that door; I knew it would only cause me more hassle in the long run.

So I strolled over to the kitchen table with a sigh, refusing point blank to sit down, because I wasn’t about to be that much of a pushover.

When dad realised I wasn’t going to relent; he launched straight into his interrogation, once more donning his Chief  of Police hat with unbridled force.

“Now where has all this crap about trick or treating come from?” He asked; his hands waving about incredulously, as if the whole situation astounded him.

“I thought you were meant to be going to a party?”

“I was, but I thought it might be better...” I pleaded my case, because I’d already planned this far and knew exactly what to say to appease him.

“Buh, buh, buh...” Dad interrupted; halting my Oscar worthy performance mid-flow.

“Since when did you decide this?” He asked; disapproval and suspicion blending between his words.

“I wasn’t even gonna go, but then Nancy was talking with Jonathan; and she was like ‘Don’t be such a bore.” And then Steve was all like ‘you gotta come”... and...” I began to spew, frustration bleeding into my tone, forcing my argument to turn into an opportunity to vent.

Dad held up his hand, stopping me mid gripe before asking “Lola; if this is about that boy again...”

“It’s not Dad!” I insisted, rolling my head back, because of course; he’d somehow make this about my personal issues.

“Jesus; can we just drop it?!”

Dad was about to snap back with something, when the sound of a door slamming drew both of our attention.

Eleven had emerged from her bedroom, sans bedsheet, and was marching over to the table with a face like thunder.

“Glad that you could join us; now if you could both sit down, so we can enjoy this lovely breakfast that I...” Dad began, resolved to play happy families once more, despite being the only one with a vested interest in it.

“I haven’t got time.” I interrupted, making my way over to the front door, because dad couldn’t throw Billy in my face after I confided in him, then expect me to play nice.

“Lola...” Dad called after me, but it was futile. I was already out the door with no intention of turning back.

That truly was the last time I’d let us discuss things like adults. If he wanted to treat me like the bratty teenager; I could act like the bratty teenager, starting with Tina’s party.

#stranger things #stranger things 2 #fanfiction #fanfic #stranger things fandom #strangerthingsfanfiction #strangerthingsfanfic #original character #stranger things oc #strangerthings oc #jim hopper #jim hopper daughter #eleven #jane hopper #eleven sister #billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove fanfiction