lazystrawberriess

Latest Posts by lazystrawberriess

i ♡ the 118 extended family

9-1-1 fandom discourse is crazy wdym my choices are either 'eddie is abusive' or 'buck was being a self-centered baby who needed to be taught a lesson' 😭😭😭 wasn't the whole point that eddie lashed out in grief in a characteristically irrational and unfair way that was assholish and that he should apologize for (and DID, in a way that he and buck both understood), and that buck didn't realize the impact of his pain, even internalized, on others, because he's characteristically assuming that his pain doesn't matter, which IS self-centered in a paradoxically selfless way and should be unlearned (which he DOES try to, when eddie calls him out on it)???

This tiktok I just saw making me want to write a fic inspired by it and having it cross over with Ghost Whisperer.

Making Maddie of course Melinda, being able to see ghosts. And Buck being able to sense death/danger. My brain can't stop thinking about this now ugh

billy batson au/scenario where billy gets caught up in an incident as billy himself and his only way to not literally BLEED OUT and DIE is to transform back as captain marvel (And chooses to stay as him. how will he survive if he detransforms back anyways? he can't risk it yet,)

So. times go by, captain marvel hasn't detransformed in maybe a month or two and it's sorta? starting to affect billys own body for some reason. But not enough for the kid to die,, And then , in one of the missions that most of the main justice league members have to join in, a magical rune/spell/whatever is casted onto them to show the day all of them will individually die (with diana and superman probably having the most amount of time out of everyone, and with batman surprisingly having 31:19:03 years, hours and minutes to his name left(yeah, even batman himself was rather surprised at that)) for the thrill of it.

but, it isn't fate, they could still survive if they change any little thing. if they get help or not. it's not set in stone!!

and so to show that one of the timers could go off at any moment. Like. some of the timers just cut to zero even if there were a few more years to its name and they'll immediately kick the bucket. or like their heads explode. and their lives r on a gamble to hope that their own timers won't get chosen to be the next to be resetted. so all of their timers start ticking, as they fight their way through the battle they're fighting in

even after they win, the timers don't go away , so they're up in the watchtower, the annoying tick of each minute getting louder and louder in their ears, and having a meeting until they realize

captains timer is only ones that isn't ticking? so they look over to cm's timer and see,

00:00:04. Four minutes left. what? why is he literally almost on deaths door? metaphorically. I mean

but thats not all, it's not even going down. minute after minute, it's like it's stuck in stasis which is .. weird???? and like captain is sorta sweating bullets because like oooooh crumbs. Oh gods

also. accompanying art hshsssfjgdf

(he thought if he stayed still no one would notice his odd ass death timer)

Ah, the age old question of the night... incredibly niche, freak behaviour, embarrassing tag smut? or 30k feelings realisation and reveal with implied or slowburn smut (this will take hours to find)?

Tom Holland Spidey stuff should not be in the Spider-Man - All Media Types section, almost nothing in that version is applicable to other Spideys, you are misusing that tag on ao3 and I’m going to rend your flesh from bone with my teeth

Also! Been thinking about a Peter Parker who has both natural webs and synthetic webs he makes (cause it’s just good to have both)

And when it comes out that he has spider powers he’s just like “…that’s synthetic, my webs are organic, very different from Spider-Man”

Had the idea that when visiting nobles meet Merlin for the first time they assume Merlin is the court jester. They hear this little peasent boy call the Prince/King "a useless clotpole with a waist bigger than his brain" and when no one does anything for the treason they just assume he's their buffoon.

Person of authority, texting: Are you available for a call?

Me: Yes

Person of Authority: *DOESN'T CALL*

Me: *dying noises*

I'm telling my therapist on you :(

Today’s sad thoughts: A Peter Parker/Spiderman variation who’s run into a ton of alternate universe versions of themselves when they were young and barely starting out as Spidey

And because even tho they’re alt dimensions/universes and stuff, there’s still some things that stay the same, like being friends with Harry even if in most universes the friendship falls apart before they reconcile, being close with MJ and Gwen whether they end up dating or not, Aunt May getting to see them grow up till at least they’re in the middle of college, usually she lives longer than that though

So this Spidey has expectations for what their future looks like, both the good things and the bad things, they’ve Prepared™️, they got anti-goblin weapons and plans before Norman even becomes sick, they’ve prepared out how to divide up their time so they can be a good friend while balancing Spidey duties, they have plans for how to include their friends if they find out that they’re Spidey, etc etc etc

Except…a ton of those things don’t end up happening, like thankfully a ton of the worst stuff doesn’t happen, but neither does the good stuff

Poor old Aunt May who was heartbroken after Ben’s death holds out long enough to see them be accepted into universe on a full ride scholarship, and, knowing that they’ll be prepared for adulthood, she peacefully passes away in her sleep

They don’t ever have a falling out with Harry or MJ, but they also don’t have that incredibly close friendship/romance with them that other Spidey’s have, they never end up clicking with Gwen either so there’s no friendship/romance there either

Maybe they’re even prepared for the symbiotes, learning how to control their anger so that when the venom symbiote finds them, they can stand having it while they study it to find an alternative to it needing to eat people and maybe helping it find Brock under healthier circumstances, but instead their universe turns out more like the venom movies where the symbiote finds Brock immediately and it works out without needing Spidey at all

They never really become besties with the Human Torch, with Johnny off constantly fighting aliens and universe ending stuff while Spidey helps out the average civilian, they just don’t end up clicking and helping each other out

Maybe also they’re excited for Miles, hoping that their universe is one where they can mentor him but if not they made a ton of stuff to leave behind for him so the transition is easier, but he doesn’t exist, whether it’s yet or he’ll never exist in that universe, etc etc etc

Just,, A Spidey sitting in a base that they actually made so that they could have a hero group with their friends and leave it behind for Miles, full of possible hero suits for the people they know that are never going to be used, mourning possibilities that were never going to happen for them, and feeling ignored by their universe

My sibling, crashing in my living room. Me watching Criminal Minds in the Dining room.

Me: If the TV bothers you let me know and I'll just turn it off

My sibling: No, don't. Listening to Criminal Minds while I sleep is peaceful

Me: Ha, yeah it's just a reminder of childhood

gnawing at the bars of my enclosure until hulu lets me watch the new episode of 9-1-1

Angela: Would you still love me if I were a worm?

Jack: I-

Angela: On second thought, don't answer that. I don't want to know.

Jack: I would love you even more 🥺

He wouldnt just love you if you were a worm. He'd love you MORE

Bold of you to assume that his parents cared enough to keep his childhood/teenagehood memorabilia

I wonder how many things we saw in Christopher's room at the Diazes used to be teenage Eddie's

"You'll be my dad again?"

-Christopher Diaz

Happy mishapocolypse anniversary!!

Me coded

Eddie Diaz FaceTiming Buck from El Paso like:

Bisexual disaster with mommy AND daddy issues who are also in love with their best friend???

Am I talking about Evan Buckley?? Dean Winchester?? Me???? Arthur Pendragon??

wait a minute-

Love the insinuation that Satan is a promotion from sad bisexual

Buck got promoted from sad bisexual to satan to Jesus in 10 seconds

"You were struck by the same lightning, you'll forever share a heartbeat."

Imagine loving a guy so much you almost kill yourself to find his baby boy in a tsunami, you claw at the earth when you think you've lost him forever, you crawl under a fire truck to drag his bleeding body to safety with an actual sniper shooting your way, you accept the fact he put you down as his boy's legal guardian in case he dies with barely a protest, you agonise when he quits being your job partner, you take said son to the zoo all the time, you get jealous like a dog pissing on a tree when he has a new friend, you're there when he begs you to fix something you can't fix and you can only hold on to his shoulder to try and shoot the pain, you go to him the second some ugly man dumps you, you throw a hissy fit about him leaving to Texas and sabotage his house showing, and then, you cave. You cave and you give up your housing situation to help him, you move into his house and you let him go. You let him go because you love him that much.

And he looks at you like you set his world on fire and built it back anew, and you hope he looks through the rearview as he drives away, hoping he'll miss you half as much as you'll miss him.

He will. You were struck by the same lightning, you'll forever share a heartbeat.

He'd be right, Edmundo.

Buck: 11-year-old me would think the current me is insane.

Eddie: He'd be right.

Eddie: 11-year-old me would call the current me a slur.

(x)

Screaming and crying in the middle of a parking lot, thanks for that

Hello, requesting "sleeping in" thank you 🙏

Hello. I’m here, months later. Here’s something.

Buck sleeps in. Eddie’s not sure if that’s a surprise or not. He's long had the somewhat infuriating habit of not plugging his phone in overnight on his days off — theoretically to discourage scrolling on it all night and wasting the battery, but half the time it results in him sheepishly charging it up from fully dead on a page about deep sea ethernet cables or something around noon the next day. So, yeah, his phone is an expensive brick on the nightstand, alarm not even an option, and it's not like they haven't had an extremely eventful last couple of days, almost 24 hours of which Buck had spent in a car headed one way or another. Eddie understands the exhaustion. But, well- he's awake. He kind of feels like his limbs are vibrating with the feeling of- relief, or terror, or joy, or- the feeling of being home. Home, here. Los Angeles, South Bedford, the home he — and Chris — had spent years building, a home of course neither of them could leave behind for long. He lays here, in his own bed, Buck snoring next to him and Chris down the hall, and he wonders why he ever thought he’d belong anywhere else.

Buck shuffles a little and Eddie thinks for a moment maybe- but he just snorts a little and keeps dreaming. Eddie tries to tamp down on the kind of sleepover giddiness bubbling up in his chest — wake up wake up wake up — and takes the opportunity to watch his best friend. His- whatever. Whatever they are now that Eddie knows what kissing him is like, quickly and quietly in his parent’s backyard, now that Eddie has stumbled his way through a question — “Why are you- why did you- all of this- do you- do you-“ — and Buck had frowned a little, not in an unhappy way but in his serious way, and had heard the real thing Eddie had wanted to know, and said “Eddie- of course I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Eddie whispers now, because he hadn’t the other night. He thinks Buck knows, though. He hopes he does. He’ll figure out how to say it to him when he’s awake, he’ll make sure he can never forget it.

His best friend. Whatever else they are or will be, Eddie thinks this first thing will always be true. They’ll always know each other and like each other and want to hang out. With the dubious wisdom of time and age Eddie can admit the few times they’ve fought have mostly been because something had been frustrating one of those wants. Someone should make fun of him for this, probably. Maybe Chris will, Eddie thinks, smiling at the idea that they’re in a place where they can harmlessly tease each other again. “You can’t see Buck for like three days and you go crazy,” he’ll laugh. “I thought I was supposed to be the dramatic teenager here.”

He idly wonders if he really can somehow figure out how to never go more than three days without seeing Buck ever again, and then stifles his own laughter — you’re right, imaginary Chris — because the man is still sleeping — still! — and despite his internal complaining he doesn’t actually want to disturb the guy. He looks so peaceful, passed out hard and melted into his pillow. His pillow, in Eddie’s bed. In Buck’s bed? Who is legally attached to what leases where is a little up in the air at the moment. Maybe it could be their bed. Maybe it's not too soon to say Don’t look for someplace else to live. Just stay here with me, with us. Maybe he just doesn’t care if other people think he’s moving too fast. He doesn’t even think he is, really. The will was years ago. He’s thought more about this relationship, worked harder on it and for longer, than any other in his life. Seven years is long enough to know.

Stay with me, he thinks at Buck, looking at his curls that are flattened in some places and sticking out weird in others. Tonight and every other night we get. He thinks Buck will say yes. He’s pretty certain Buck will say yes. He moved in so Eddie could leave, he’s pretty certain Buck will stay for him, too.

“Do you have a secret kid somewhere I can do something financially irresponsible for to prove my devotion to you?” Eddie asks in a whisper. Buck snorts again, but doesn’t otherwise stir. “Okay. Well, I’ll figure something else out.”

Buck’s eyelashes are pale against his cheek. His skin is rougher than when they first met, older, aging. His birthmark isn't visible, pressed into the pillow, because Buck is turned towards Eddie in his sleep. He’s all stubbly — it had itched against his face, Eddie remembers — and Eddie will kind of miss it when he has to shave before work tomorrow. He can grow it back, though, and Eddie will be around to see it in this new life where they never spend more than three days apart. Two days, maybe. 48 hours in a row and they have to say sorry, gotta go, my-

Husband? My husband is waiting for me? Bobby will probably have a harder time arguing for them to stay on the same shift if they get married, and that will make the whole never-apart-for-long thing harder. So, not yet. Not yet. But Eddie watches Buck’s chest rise and fall and thinks: someday.

He gets so caught up in that thought, the two of them in suits and nice food and pretty lights and dancing and making promises, that he doesn’t register for a moment the blue eyes blinking back at him.

“Oh,” he says, sounding stupidly surprised.

“Hi,” Buck says, the word tripping out on a little huff of laughter. Eddie wants to- to taste it. He stays where he is.

“Good morning.”

Buck smiles, so big it seems to take him a moment to catch his breath. “Morning.” He yawns, stretching out like a cat for all his puppy-like tendencies. “Time is it?”

Eddie doesn’t actually know, having better things to look at than an alarm clock or phone screen, so he rolls slightly to check. “9:15.” When he rolls back Buck is right there, slinging an arm over Eddie all casual like they’ve done this a million times instead of never before, but Eddie thinks he’s right, it doesn’t feel new at all. He grabs a handful of Buck’s shirt and just holds on, feeling his body heat.

“Slept in,” Buck says, and he doesn't seem surprised or not surprised about it either. He leans forward and kisses Eddie’s cheek, quick, quiet. They have time for- for something else, now. Something longer. There’s no rush. But first, Eddie has to make sure, he has to make it clear, he has to ask:

“Will you sleep in tomorrow? Here? And- and every other day, if you want. Forever, Buck, if you want.”

Buck smiles, again so wide it takes a moment for him to speak. “We still gotta get up on work days, Eddie.”

Eddie laughs. It makes his body lean forward under Buck’s arm, closer to him. Their knees bump together. “Well- okay. I can compromise on that. I’m very reasonable. Every other day.”

“Every other day,” Buck agrees, easily, and leans in again for something else, something longer.

Fucking obsessed with this! This was so good!! OP thank you for tagging me, I am now forever indebted to you 🫶

messy top lip kiss (how i long for our trysts)

also posted on ao3

Wilson was used to finishing his rounds on the oncology floor and seeing House already invading the space in his office like he owned the place. Sometimes he’d find House leaning on the wall right next to his office door- tapping his cane obnoxiously against the word ‘Oncology’ just because he could. Occasionally, if House was bored, he’d see the older man pacing at the end of the hallway between his own office and Wilson’s, like he was waiting for Wilson to decide between the privacy of his office or the glass dome of House’s space. It was a cat and mouse game that Wilson was used to after all these years.

But something about this was different. 

House was leaning against the wall by the janitor's closet between their offices; staring intently at Wilson as he approached. Wilson expected House to fall into step with him on the way to his office with some ridiculous demand that Wilson would pretend to fight over before caving like he always did. He’d left a bag of chips on the desk and he could already picture House snagging them and eating them before he’d get the chance to. 

What he wasn’t expecting as he walked past was the sudden movement of House’s cane to dart out; the handle of the cane snagging against his wrist, and pulling. Hard. The sudden yank threw off his equilibrium and caused Wilson to stumble from his pathway towards his office. An undignified sound slipped from his lips as he was pulled into the supply closet with a little more force than was strictly necessary. 

“House, what the hell are you doing?” Wilson hissed, rubbing absently at the ache that was blossoming in his wrist. “Is this some elaborate hide and seek you’re playing with the rest of your team? Because I have important paperwork I need to-”

House surged forward, pushing Wilson back into the shelving behind them and pinning the younger man in place. His cane clattered to the floor and his hand found purchase on the back of Wilson’s neck as he pulled Wilson into a hungry kiss. “Shut up,” House muttered against Wilson’s mouth before nipping at his lower lip. 

Whatever snappy comeback Wilson wanted to bite out quickly dissolved on his tongue as his hand found its way to House’s hip, pulling him closer. 

God dammit. House knew this was his weakness. Knew that Wilson would go along with anything House was planning with just a few hurried fervent kisses that always managed to leave Wilson speechless and dizzy. 

But he couldn’t give up the fight that easily. What would their lives be if Wilson didn’t push back just because he could? Even if House always ended up winning in the end. Half the fun was the chase, after all. 

“House,” Wilson gasped between kisses. “What are you-”

“Shut up,” House repeated, breaking the kiss and fumbling to undo the top button on Wilson’s shirt. 

“House,” Wilson said more urgently, hands shaking as he tried to loosen the knot of his tie so that House’s lips could kiss a burning trail down his throat. “Why…”

House tore his mouth away from Wilson’s neck, leaning back slightly in the dim light so he could glare at Wilson. “Do you want to waste time asking questions like ‘What are you doing?’ or ‘Why now when you’ve never made a move on me at work before?’. Or would you rather make out in the janitor's closet like horny teenagers?”

Wilson rolled his eyes. “Shut up and go back to shoving your tongue in my mouth.”

The smirk on House’s lips sent a fast heat racing up Wilson’s neck and across his cheeks. “That’s what I thought.” 

That look in House’s eyes could get Wilson on his knees blowing him in half a second flat. And he would- workplace etiquette be damned- except House was kissing him like there was no tomorrow and Wilson’s brain had completely short-circuited. 

It was easy to get lost in the kisses. The way House delved deeper deeper deeper into his mouth, as if he were analyzing and memorizing every millimeter of Wilson’s mouth and committing it to his memory. How he slowed down for just a few moments to allow Wilson to catch his breath before it was impossible to resist the magnetic pull between them and they were frantically kissing again. 

The air was filled with the sounds of breathless gasps and heavy kisses. Now that he knew House was on a mission, Wilson could actually keep up and plan his next move. He let House lead the kiss, letting House’s tongue lick across the roof of his mouth teasingly. When House made a move to pull back for air, Wilson chased after him, catching House’s mouth in a bruising kiss. 

Game on. 

House let out a groan of surprise, wobbling slightly at the change in pressure on his leg as Wilson pressed into his space. Wilson nudged House back and bracketed his arms on either side of House’s head, pinning him in place against the wall. Dropping a hand down, Wilson rucked up House’s shirt, seeking skin on skin contact. A low moan filled the air as House dropped his head back against the wall in pleasure.

With a smirk of his own, Wilson took the opportunity to seal their mouths together again.

It was agonizing torture to slowly ghost his lips against House’s, initiating the barest of kisses and then hovering just out of reach. Catching the shiver that raced down House’s spine, Wilson teasingly licked along House’s lower lip. House swore under his breath. Wilson grinned.

“Is this what you wanted?” Wilson said smugly as he ghosted a kiss against the corner of House’s mouth before backing away again. 

“Get on with it already. Your foreplay is horrendous,” House grunted. 

Huffing out a laugh, Wilson closed the gap and made sure to graze his lips over the pulse point in House’s neck; feeling the flutter against his lips as House’s heart rate kicked up. “You’re right. You’re not enjoying this at all.”

House opened his mouth, most likely to spit out some cutting retort, but Wilson cut him off by crashing their lips together and pushing his tongue into House’s mouth. Stroking his tongue over House’s as their lips fought for control always spurned a groan of approval from House, and today was no different. The shuddering moan that House let out was pressed into Wilson’s mouth and it sparked a burning desire deep in Wilson’s gut.

Licking his way along House’s tongue and then across the older man’s teeth, Wilson focused his attention on the way their lips melded together. The scrape of stubble against his jaw since House hadn’t shaved in almost a week. The way House was leaning up into the hand Wilson had shoved up his shirt, as if being kissed wasn’t enough and he needed more. 

And that just wouldn’t do. Not on Wilson’s watch. If House wanted to make out in the janitor’s closet then they’d make out. No need to cop a feel when he could get House to look wrecked and desperate with just his mouth on House’s. 

Pulling his palm away from House’s waist, he planted his hand back on the wall so he was bracketing the older man’s head again. House broke the kiss with a glare. “Bad foreplay is better than no foreplay at all.”

“Guess you’re outta luck then,” Wilson replied, and then he was kissing House again. Hurried desperate kisses that led to ragged shallow breaths. The slide of their mouths between pants, tongues dancing together before they broke apart, only to chase each other again moments later was intoxicating. Catching House’s lower lip between his, Wilson slowed the kisses down just so he could crack his eyes open and see the trembles that wracked through House’s body in anticipation. Then he licked his way back into House’s mouth and their lips were slotting together again.

Kissing House was always good, always something Wilson relished, but this was different. Adrenaline pumping, House’s hands in his hair, pulling their bodies flush together so he could rut against Wilson’s hip. 

This was ecstasy and Wilson never wanted it to end.

He couldn’t help the little breathy, needy gasps that burned up his throat and were pushed into House’s mouth. Dropping his hands from the wall, he scrambled to unbuckle House’s belt without tearing his mouth away from House’s.

Just as Wilson made a move to slip his hand into House’s pants, a loud beeping filled the air.

”You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” House hissed, fumbling to yank the pager out of his jeans to silence it.

“Don’t you need to-”

“No,” House said through gritted teeth, drawing Wilson back in by his undone tie and sealing their lips together again.

Wilson hesitated for a moment, but then House’s tongue was in his mouth and all thoughts of pagers and cases were gone. Falling back into frantic kisses, Wilson aligned House’s good leg between his thighs and the burning friction was back within seconds as they grinded against each other.

He’d barely managed to get his hands back down to House’s unzipped jeans before the pager was going off again. Biting back a choked off groan, Wilson dropped his head against House’s shoulder as House thumbed at the device. 

“There, that should…” House started to say, but his phone ringing shattered the moment.

“For the love of God,” Wilson muttered, pulling back and running a hand through his tousled hair.

House brought the phone to his ear. “Busy right now. Call back in 5.”

Wilson couldn’t hear what was being said on the other end of the phone, but he could hear the urgency in what he suspected was Foreman’s voice and knew that the game was over.

“Get her prepped for an LP. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Scrubbing his hands over his face, Wilson drew in a shaky breath and released it slowly. “If you weren’t just as turned on as I am right now, I’d say this was your plan all along.”

Rolling his eyes, House muttered, “Oh yes, you got me, Wilson. I planned to jump your bones and then leave myself as blue balled as I left you.”

Wilson raised both of his eyebrows suspiciously. “That does sound like something you would do.”

House bent down to grab his cane, then zipped up his jeans as Wilson fixed his shirt and tie.

“Maybe next time you want to make out in the janitor’s closet, don’t do it in the middle of one of your cases.”

“Oh, so you’re expecting a next time, are you?”

Despite the absurdity of the entire situation, Wilson couldn’t help but grin. “Whatever your little plan here was, you didn’t succeed. Nor did you finish what you started. That’s going to eat at you for days.” Brushing his hair back into place with his fingers, Wilson took a step forwards to open the door. “But now I know what game you’re playing. And now it’s my move.”

Evan "Buck" Buckley Core

The headcanon that Jason bakes when he's stressed eatsss

Duke: *wakes up from the feeling of being watched* wha??

*Jason standing over him with a fresh plate of peach cobbler* This is you favorite right?

Duke: um... yea..

Jason: here *sets plate on his lap* taste..

Duke: .... ok..

You interrupted something. Rude. Ko-Fi

When you step into sunlight, you honor Apollo. When you admire the moon, you honor Artemis. When you admire cloud shapes, you honor Hera. When you smell petrichor, you honor Zeus. When you laugh at a joke, you honor Hermes. When your body twitches to dance at a particularly upbeat music, you honor Dinoysus. When you enjoy the first bite of your breakfast, you honor Demeter. When you choose your peace over any conflict, you honor Athena. When you warm yourself up by sheltering yourself in blanket, you honor Hestia. When you listen to Ocean sounds, you honor Poseidon. When you smell flowers, you honor Persephone. When you admire the coolness of first day of Autumn, you honor Hades. When you wear your favourite jewellery, you honor Hephaestus. When you smile, you honor Aphrodite. When you exercise, you honor Ares. When you light a torch in a dark room, you honor Hekate.

Your body is a shrine to Gods, your being an act of devotion for them. You, by yourself, are enough for them.

my beautiful, unproblematic, feminist, never wrong queen. I hope you're doing well where ever you are. I miss you so much, you are so loved by me.

do you condone old man yaoi?

Bitch I am old man yaoi.