messyhairdiaz

[messyhairdiaz]

If you are watching a TV show, it can be live action or animated.

But not when you're reading a book. Much to think about.

#most often a movie with a cast of made up actors #usually a mix of real actors and made up based on character descriptions #occassionally it’s more animated. usually when something is even more fantastical than usual #like legends & lattes is more animated in my head

[messyhairdiaz]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE MOST INFLUENTIAL ALBUM OF THE MODERN AGE

[messyhairdiaz]

THEY'RE SOSOSO FUNNY

[messyhairdiaz]

your way or nothing at all [9-1-1 | Eddie Diaz | 1/1]

1500 words character study | mild angst | weddings | background buck/tommy, eddie/marisol | pre-relationship buddie | not quite a feelings realization for eddie but he's getting there

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In the quieting dark, Eddie lingers by the tables, the empty chairs pushed together in a cluster for a conversation long since abandoned. It's late enough that people are starting to filter out into the night, and pretty much everybody left is crowded at the open bar or swaying on the dance floor. At the high table, Maddie has Buck's suit jacket draped over her shoulders and her cheek tipped against Chim's shoulder, and he's looking down at her with a dopily besotted expression that Eddie can clock even from here.

It makes him feel like—something, some kind of nostalgia for the wedding he never got to have with Shannon. That whole day felt like being hustled through a play that he never learned his lines to. Shannon was three months pregnant and deep in the throes of vicious morning sickness that was not improved by the catering or the stress of the day, so he spent their wedding night holding back her hair in the honeymoon suite his parents paid for and trying desperately to feel like he had a single fucking clue what he was doing. Trying to feel like a man and a husband and a father-to-be and mostly feeling like a complete fraud.

They deserved better. Both of them. Now, in this moment, after this day, it soothes more than it stings to watch Maddie and Chim hold onto each other so easily.

The song changes, and he watches a swirl of motion on the bar side of the dance floor, the particular energy that's easily identifiable as Buck even before he emerges from the crowd. Normally, maybe Eddie would gravitate in, but Buck's got a hand linked together with Tommy's, and they're laughing, and so he stays where he is. Just watches.

It's sweet, a little fumbling as Buck very obviously tries to figure out the logistics of slow-dancing with another guy. Tommy says something in a low voice and settles a palm on his hip, and Buck ducks his head, laughing, and leans into him.

It's sweet. It is. Eddie's throat fucking aches.

He doesn't know why, not really. Maybe it's the smile on Buck's face, wide and giddy and almost embarrassingly bright. He never smiled at Natalia like that, or Taylor. Maybe Ali, but the truth is that back then Eddie wasn't looking for it. Back then, he was so caught up in everything with Shannon, and he and Buck were barely more than friendly coworkers, as strange as that idea seems now.

He probably smiled at Abby like that. Eddie wasn't around for that relationship, only the aftermath, but he can imagine it. You don't hurt that badly when someone leaves you unless you really fucking loved them.

"You would not believe the line for the bathroom," Marisol says from behind him, and Eddie jolts like he just grabbed a high-voltage wire. He tries to spin it into something graceful as he turns to face her, but he's pretty sure it doesn't work, and also pretty sure that he shouldn't be feeling quite so jumpscared at the sight of his girlfriend. His heart is pounding. He rubs his knuckles against his sternum, and Marisol asks, "You okay?"

"Yeah," he says. "Sorry. You startled me."

"No, it's fine." She smiles at him, and it's pretty. She looks pretty, in a blue dress that looks black in this light, little metallic threads picked through and glittering. It hugs the curves of her body in a way that Eddie feels obligated to notice, and so he does, and when he looks her in the eye again she's smiling wider, and that's pretty too and Eddie—

Eddie still feels like a fucking fraud.

"I got you a beer," Marisol says. She's got a glass of wine in her other hand. White wine, lipstick marks on the rim.

Eddie smiles back and takes the bottle she hands him. "Thanks."

"I wasn't sure what you'd want." She grins at him, flirty. "You'll have to tell me if I made a bad guess."

He sips the beer. It's a lager, hoppy and astringent in a way that leaves a bitter aftertaste on his tongue. He takes another drink and smiles around the grimace his mouth wants to make. "It's perfect. Thank you."

The pleased relief in her smile doesn't make the lie feel any better. He takes another sip and sets the bottle down, and Marisol settles her hip against his chair, close enough that he can feel the warmth of her body. Close enough that he could wrap an arm around her thighs and pull her into his lap, if he wanted to do that. He shifts forward instead, leaning his elbows against the table, and she lets out a quiet sound and sets her glass down to sit in the chair next to him. The music switches over from Christina Perri to what Eddie is pretty sure is Savage Garden, and on the dance floor Tommy says something that makes Buck laugh and pull him closer.

"They're cute together," Marisol observes. "Buck and, um… Tommy?"

Eddie's fingers twitch on his beer bottle. "Yeah."

"I didn't know that he was, you know…" she trails off. Eddie looks over at her, and she adds, "Not that there's anything wrong with it! I just, I thought he had a girlfriend."

"They broke up. He dates guys too," Eddie says, more emphatically than is really necessary. Like this is a truth that he's always known instead of something Buck told him two weeks ago in the loft, quiet and careful like he was afraid of how Eddie would react. Like he was afraid of Eddie.

It was a date, we were on a date.

So it's new for Buck, too. Not just him. But still.

It feels like something he should have known.

"Okay," Marisol says. The corners of her mouth tighten, and she takes a pointed sip of her wine. "I didn't know that, is all."

I didn't know either, Eddie imagines saying, but the words strangle themselves in his throat just the same as, Actually, I don't like lagers, and, I don't really want company tonight, did. He wonders how the hell Buck does it—just opens his mouth and lets the truth spill out. Eddie can only manage that when it's for other people. Never for himself.

"Sorry," he says out loud. "It's been… a day."

Marisol's face softens a little, and he feels like shit about that, too. It has been a day, is the thing. He woke up in a bathtub, more hungover than he's been in at least a decade, and after that was a wild goose-chase through the desert to retrieve Chim in time for the wedding, and all that is plenty of reason for him to be off his game now. It's just that somehow it also feels like a fucking lie.

On the dance floor, Buck has his cheek pressed to Tommy's. He says something, and Tommy's shoulders shake with laughter, and then they both turn, moving easily together into a kiss. It's quick and tender, and Eddie abruptly feels like the worst kind of voyeur for watching it happen. He turns his head away and finds Marisol looking at him.

The music changes again. TLC, he's pretty sure, because Chim is deep down a very basic Gen X music kind of guy. Or maybe it was Maddie's pick, who knows. Anyway. It's a little more upbeat, but still slow enough to dance to.

"You, uh." He clears his throat, and finds a smile that feels almost right. "Come on, you wanna dance before they close it all down? They're playing our song."

"This is our song?" Marisol asks, but she's laughing. "I don't even think I was born yet when it came out."

Eddie shrugs and holds out a hand. "It could be our song. Maybe for tonight it's just a good song to dance to."

That must have been the right thing to say. She smiles, sets her wine down, and slips her hand into his, letting him tug her to her feet. They wind their way through the chairs to the dance floor, and under the string lights she settles easily into his arms. 

I know you're gonna have it your way or nothing at all, rasps the singer in a sweetly smoky voice, as Eddie closes his eyes, and sways, and breathes, but I think you're moving too fast.

I think you're moving too fast.

He breathes in, and out, and opens his eyes. Marisol smiles up at him, and he smiles back, then cuts his eyes away. There are still a handful of people left on the dance floor with them: Athena and Bobby, swaying together like they're in their own little world, a couple of Buckley cousins with their dates. Buck and Tommy are gone, though, and Eddie almost cranes his head through the crowd to see where they got to before he catches himself.

"To tell you the truth," Marisol says. "I really don't think this is our song."

"Alright, well, we can find another one," Eddie says, and she laughs and sways into him, and he holds onto her, and when he closes his eyes, it's fine; it all feels fine.

#🥺 #911 fic

[messyhairdiaz]

This isn’t commonly known but one of the rings of hell is actually being in a fandom wherein the popular bloggers have the worst opinions known to man that everyone else parrots

[messyhairdiaz]

FALLOUT: 1x01 - "The End" ↳ "War... war never changes."

#fallout

[messyhairdiaz]

Goals for this weekend

Clean my fucking bedroom

Finish my fucking fic

[messyhairdiaz]

” I don’t go here but…” is such a cool tag to get idc idc. You don’t know what I’m talking about but you like it anyways? Let’s make out

[messyhairdiaz]

i'll build a house out of the mess (i'll give you the best years)

2.7k | mature | read on ao3

“I— I mean yeah! Definitely!” Buck’s quick to reassure him, nodding as he crouches down to decant some paint into the tray. “Although, babe, I don’t know why you keep checking in with me! I— I mean I’m completely flattered, don’t get me wrong, but it’s your house, Tommy. Ultimately, the only opinion that matters on any of this stuff is yours.” A silence settles over them as Buck continues setting up the paint in the tray, and Tommy opens his mouth and closes it a couple of times, trying to figure out a way to say what he wants to without sounding like he’s lost the entire fucking plot. “It’s not.” “It’s not what, babe?” Evan says, not even looking up. Tommy’s almost glad, is the thing. He feels a little frayed raw, somehow. A little more exposed than he planned to be. “It’s…it’s not just my house, Evan.” He begins, wetting his lips, his hand flexing around the paint roller. “It’s…it’s also going to be yours, one day.” (Tommy buys a house. Both him and Buck have some feelings about it.)

read the rest on ao3

tags below the cut!!

@usereddie @bucktommys @canonbibuck @honestlydarkprincess @swiftietartt

@bigfootsmom @loveyouanyway @buckdatesboys @messyhairdiaz @evankinard

@hepbaestus @queerbuck @nilshki @comfortbuddie @babyboybuckley

@silassstingy @zouisalmightie @bisexualdisasterbuckley @alex1424

#🥹 #911 fic #bucktommy

[messyhairdiaz]

in the hour or so it took me to draw this op turned reblogs off

[messyhairdiaz]

i'll be honest kitten. daddy's not getting raptured.

[messyhairdiaz]

S01E04 ///// S01E08

#fallout #Lucy Maclean #the ghoul

[messyhairdiaz]

Finished Fallout. Thinking thoughts.

[messyhairdiaz]

WITCHCRAFT!!!!!!!!

#fellas are u ever just gay af

[messyhairdiaz]

raspberry.

Tommy Kinard/Evan Buckley | 4k

Summary:

“you want to dance with him?” tommy doesn’t know what prompts him to ask. they’ve been at the club for upwards of half an hour now and evan hasn’t given an indication that he wants to do anything other than what they’re doing—kissing, dancing, grinding dirtily off and on like two teenagers at prom.  but. there’s a man his gaze keeps flicking to. tommy looks between them—between evan, in his crisp, tight white t-shirt and dark wash blue jeans—and the other man. brown skin, brown eyes, salt and pepper locs that flow to the middle of his back, dressed in a pair of black, skin-tight jeans that look painted on.  evan raises an eyebrow. “i wanna dance with you.” and he’s sweet, this one. so willing to defend what they have, to say no, i’m not looking for anyone else. you don’t need to worry about that . as if tommy was worried about that. it’s been six months. he’s never been more certain of a relationship in his entire life.  he sways forward, nudging his thumb up underneath evan’s jaw so he can tilt his face up and to the side where the man is dancing against some young twenty-something that thinks they have a chance. and hell, maybe they do. but tommy’s not interested in the kid, not tonight, at least. he drops his voice, hand snaking down to evan’s ass so he can pull him close. “let me change that: do you want me to see you dancing with him?” evan shivers . bingo. 

read more on ao3

#ohhhhh gonna eat this up asap #911 fic #bucktommy

[messyhairdiaz]

from someone fairly new to 911 fandom what are some of your favorite tumblrs someone should follow???? i desperately need to add more 911 to my dash.

ok first of all the invaluable inimitable backbone of this fandom @911bts

and now here are my faves... i tried to get a lot but i'm sorry if i forgot anyone!!

@911onabc @biluck-buck @buckttommy @captain-hen @fruitydiaz

@harrowharkwife @lesbiankinard @lucydonato @messyhairdiaz @singlethread

@therapized-eddie @queerbuckleys @bisexualbuckleyy @blorbodiaz @butchdiaz

@catdadeddie @clusterbuck @gracieryder @hattalove @jddryder

@kitkatpancakestack @sainteddie @sibylsleaves @swiftiebuck @yramesoruniverse

#🥹 thank you friend #and I second the recs

[messyhairdiaz]

LIKE FATHER, LIKE DAUGHTER chimney & jee-yun [insp] -> for @honestlydarkprincess <3

[ID in alt text]

#Buckley han family