#Eddie had a whole mental breakdown

[lover-of-mine]

It's been 62 episodes since the last time Buck and Eddie hugged. If you even care.

[steddiehyperfixation]

don't you forget about me (part six)

(part one)(part two)(part three)(part four)(part five)

Steve allows himself a brief mental breakdown in the shower when he gets home. He lets the water mix with his tears as he curls his arms around himself and wishes with everything he is that they were Eddie’s. There’s nothing he wouldn’t give right now just to be held by him again, just to feel Eddie’s arms around him one more time. All it took was a tiny kiss on the back of his hand for Steve’s skin to remember just how much it missed that feeling. Now Steve’s entire body craves Eddie’s touch, and he shakes in its absence like an addict in withdrawal. 

Then he puts himself back together, gets dressed and styles his hair and heads off to work. 

They’d defeated Vecna before he could split the world into pieces or whatever his diabolical plan had been. So while Steve’s whole world may have been torn apart, while Steve’s whole world lays bruised and bandaged and amnesic in a hospital bed, the rest of the world carries on none the wiser. The rest of the world still rents VHS tapes and has movie nights and date nights and no fucking clue that they were seconds away from being dragged down into a hell dimension a couple weeks ago, so Family Video is still open for them. Fuck that. 

“You’ve gotta handle the customers today because if someone starts asking me stupid questions I can’t promise I won’t snap at them,” Steve tells Robin as he drives them to their shift. 

“Aw, but it’s so funny when you snap at them,” Robin quips. 

“Robin.” He gives her his best I’m so fucking serious look. 

Her humor dries up immediately and she nods solemnly. “Alright, yeah. I got it.” 

Steve sighs, pulling into the parking lot. “Thank you.” 

He busies himself with cataloging and reshelving and rewinding returns while Robin takes over the customer service part of the job. It’s mindless - mind-numbing - the monotony of the tasks exactly what Steve needs to dull out the thoughts in his brain and distract himself from the way the back of his hand still tingles from Eddie’s kiss. 

When the afternoon rush dies down after a few hours and the store is all but empty, Robin sidles up next to him where he’s putting away a stack of fantasy films. “Hey.” 

Her voice cuts through his focus and nearly startles Steve out of his skin. “Jesus! Don’t sneak up on me like that.” 

“Sorry.” She grabs half the stack of tapes and starts helping him shelve. “Just wanted to check in with you, we haven’t gotten much of a chance to talk today. How are things going with Eddie?” 

“It’s fine. He’s fine,” Steve grumbles, glaring down at the tape in his hands. It’s got a dragon on the cover. He thinks Eddie would probably like it. “He still doesn’t remember me, but he’s starting to see me as a friend now at least, so.” Steve shoves the movie into its spot on the shelf. “That’s something, right?” 

Robin raises her eyebrows at the sharp bitterness in his tone and how forcefully he put the tape away. “Okay. Yeah. So I see we’re in the anger stage of grief now,” she comments. 

Steve scoffs. If this is a stage of grief, he thinks he’s been going through them in the wrong order, or maybe all at once - a neverending ebb and flow of denial and anger and depression all swirled together into one fucked up cocktail of grief. “I’m not angry,” he says, rubbing his hands over his face. “I’m just tired- emotionally burnt out, I don’t know. I just miss him and it’s not fair and I’m so fucking sick of feeling like this.” 

“Yeah, that’s anger, Steve,” Robin says, infuriatingly blunt. She slides the last tape in her stack into its place and then leans against the shelf. “Did something else happen to set this off, or are you just generally overwhelmed?” 

Steve sags against the shelf beside her. “Both. I don’t know. It’s stupid, it’s so fucking stupid. He just- he kissed my hand this morning, that’s it, and it wrecked me.” 

“He what?” Robin questions, curiosity widening her eyes. 

“He kissed my hand,” Steve repeats. He sighs and adds context, gives her a full recount of the events of that morning.

“Oh my god?!” Robin practically squawks as she backhands Steve’s arm, which is definitely not the comforting words or touch he needs from her right now. 

“Ow!” he yelps, rubbing his arm. “What the hell was that for?” 

“Dude. He was flirting with you,” she tells him, eyes even wider now like she’s trying to explain to him something obvious. 

“What? No.” Steve shakes his head, looking at her like she’s crazy. “He definitely wasn’t.” 

“Ughhh,” Robin lets out a long, dramatic groan, dragging her hands down her cheeks and pulling down her eyes. “I cannot do this with you two again. He totally was.” She drops her hands from her face so she can use them to illustrate her point as she starts to lists off, “First of all, he literally called you daddy-” 

“As a joke,” Steve interrupts to protest. 

“Yeah, a flirtatious one,” Robin retorts. She continues, “Then he said you have a magic touch, and then his heart literally started racing for no reason-”

“Because I was stressing him out!” 

“Only after his heart rate went up in the first place, which, as I was saying, was for no reason other than the fact that you were smiling at him and holding his hand-” 

“That literally doesn’t-” 

“And then, he kissed your hand - pressed his lips to your skin - and told you that you were his good luck charm,” Robin finishes, looking smug like she’s said something novel and not just completely reiterated exactly what Steve had just told her only with more emphasis. 

He sighs wearily. “Your point?” 

“He likes you, dingus,” she says, whacking his arm again. “Don’t you get it? His mind may not remember still, but his heart is starting to.”

Steve doesn’t know what to do with that. A lump rises in his throat, a rush of jumbled emotions chafing against his already frayed edges. “Don’t say that. You don’t know that.”

“I think you should tell him what you were to each other,” Robin suggests. 

“Right, yeah, okay, sure,” Steve scoffs, somewhere between sarcastic and hysterical. “And while we’re at it, I think you should tell Vickie that you like her. Because telling people things like that is so easy, isn’t it?” 

Robin gives him a withering stare. “That is not the same thing at all, and you know it.”

“No, yeah, you’re right,” he agrees. “Because I know Eddie, and he would not take that news well. He already gets a little weird whenever I seem to know too much about him - if I tell him I know him biblically too-” 

“Ew, don’t tell him like that!” 

“Doesn’t matter if I tell him like that; I say we’ve been together for 9 months, he’s going to assume we’ve-” 

“God, okay, I get it!”

“See? It would freak him out,” Steve concludes, crossing his arms. “Even if he does…like me again or whatever, he definitely wouldn’t anymore and it would just generally make him uncomfortable. So I can’t tell him. I just have to keep waiting for him to remember on his own, even though it’s fucking killing me,” he says, his voice harsh as he tries to keep it from breaking. “It’s what’s best for Eddie.” 

“Steve-” Robin starts, frowning like she’s only just beginning to realize she may have pushed him too far, but whatever it is she was going to say is cut off by the ringing of the bell that announces the front door being open. 

“Customers.” Steve points his chin towards the couple who just walked in, a bitter jealousy boiling in his stomach as he watches them walk hand in hand towards the romance aisle. It’s not fucking fair. He shoves himself away from the shelves and mutters, “I’m taking my break.”

He stalks to the breakroom, closes the door, and sinks to the floor with his back against it. The tears in his eyes feel like they’re made of acid, like they would carve tracks into his skin if they were to spill down his cheeks. He wraps his arms around himself again. The thoughts in his head are made of acid too, bitter and burning and cursing everyone who gets to enjoy their lover's touch while he suffers without his. 

Steve’s brain feels corroded, corrupted. “He likes you,” Robin’s words echo there too, “his mind may not remember still, but his heart is starting to.” Would Eddie touch him now if he asked? Would he trace his fingers across Steve’s skin, kiss more than just the back of his hand? Steve digs his own fingers into his sides. He feels gross, he feels rotten. It wouldn’t be right to ask that of Eddie without him knowing the truth, to take advantage of him like that. It wouldn’t be the same, anyways. The superficial touch of a boy with the beginnings of a crush is not the tender lover’s caress that Steve craves. 

That is if Robin is even right about Eddie redeveloping feelings. Which she probably isn’t.

Steve’s just being stupid and selfish again. He wants to remove his brain from his skull so he can stop thinking, tear his heart from his chest so he can stop feeling; both so burned and decayed he thinks if he held them in his hands they would dissolve and crumble to dust and ash and sludge between his fingers. 

Fifteen minutes pass, and Steve forces himself to be fine. He peels himself off the breakroom floor and returns to work, continues the tedious tasks that he hopes will numb him out again. 

Robin catches his eye from across the room where she’s sorting a customer’s cash at the register. I’m sorry, her expression says, I didn’t mean to make you upset. 

Steve gives a tiny shake of his head and a small smile. It’s okay. It wasn’t your fault, his own expression reassures her. You meant well. I’m not mad at you. 

They don’t talk about Eddie again that day. The next time there’s a lull in customers and they’re able to chat again, Steve tells Robin he honestly just needs a distraction right now, and he lets her ramble on about Vickie and band and school and her impending graduation and the movie she watched last night and whatever other random thoughts are bouncing around that hyperactive head of hers. Her voice fills in the cracks in Steve’s brain, keeps it from falling apart completely. She’s always been good at that, and he’s grateful for it. 

Then he drops Robin off after work and he drives away alone in silence because all the songs on the radio are love songs, and he drives back to the hospital - back to the source of his grief again and again like some sort of fucking masochist - because Eddie needs him. Because Steve loves him.

~

Eddie cannot help the way his face all but beams the second Steve walks back into his room that evening. “There you are, Stevie! How was work?”

Steve returns the smile, genuine, but there’s a tiredness to it. “It was alright. Bit boring, really, uneventful. How are you doing?” 

“I’m good,” Eddie says, adding with a jaunty grin, “All the better now that you’re back.” 

It comes out a bit more flirtatious than he intended, but thankfully Steve just laughs it off. “Alright, smoothtalker,” he scoffs through a chuckle as he takes his usual seat by the bed. “It’s nice to see you again too.”

“Oh, the actual doctor came in to talk to me today. Good news, don’t worry,” Eddie tells him, the last bit tacked on quickly before that concerned crease can appear between Steve’s brows. “She says I’m healing up nicely, and I might be able to be discharged soon. A few more days’ observation and then they're gonna see how well I can actually move since, you know, the bats chewed through half the muscles in one of my legs. But, yeah, I could be out of here by the end of next week.” 

“That’s great, Eddie!” Steve brightens. 

“Yeah.” Eddie smiles. “I can’t wait to be somewhere familiar, feel normal again. Or, well,” he amends, smile falling a little as he realizes, “as normal as I can feel given that I’ll probably be walking with a limp for the rest of my life and be covered in nasty scars all over.” 

A strange expression crosses Steve’s face then, something happy and sad and sympathetic all at once, and his voice is soft as he says, “We’ll match.” 

Eddie blinks at him. “What?”

“The scars,” Steve clarifies. “The bats got me too, you know. I was lucky, it wasn’t as bad for me as it was for you, but, uh- yeah, we’ll match. See?” He stands and pulls his shirt up a bit. 

Eddie’s heart rate immediately kicks up again, blood growing warm, as his eyes snap to Steve’s stomach, to skin and muscle and body hair and- oh. Two giant, jagged red scabs cover Steve’s sides, the edges fading into skin bumpy and pink and white with the beginnings of scarring. The bite on Eddie’s own side twinges in sympathy. “That’s-” He swallows back the word hot, and breathes out instead, “Holy shit.” Without really thinking, he finds himself reaching out to skim his fingers over the ridges of Steve’s scars. 

Steve gasps - full body shudders - at the touch, and Eddie instantly pulls his hand back, afraid he’s hurt him. “Sorry,” he mutters.

“No, it’s fine,” Steve manages, though it sounds a bit shaky. “You didn’t hurt me, I just- I wasn’t expecting it.” 

Eddie tentatively starts to reach back out; Steve nods. He slowly traces the outline of the wound again, every uneven edge, feeling the evidence of hurt and the evidence of healing and the ripple of each breath Steve takes - breaths that echo in the quiet that falls between them. Eddie doesn’t realize just how intimate this silence has become as he runs his hands across Steve’s skin, until he glances up to find Steve just…watching him. It’s impossible to tell exactly what emotion is behind his eyes, but it’s intense and it’s devastating, and Eddie suddenly feels like he can’t breathe. 

“Uh-” A nervous laugh stutters out of him. He rescinds his touch. “Twin scars, huh?” he remarks, cracking a crooked smile and attempting to change this strange, suffocating energy with a joke. “Hell of a matching tattoo. Next time let’s just exchange friendship bracelets like normal people do, yeah?”

Steve huffs, a short burst of laughter that escapes from his chest like it’s been punched out of him. “Since when have you ever done anything like a normal person?” he teases in return as he pulls his shirt back down.

Just like that, blown away by Steve’s playful smile, the weird tension lifts. Eddie grins back. “Alright, fair point.” He adds, “Those are gonna be some pretty metal scars, Stevie.”

“Not as metal as yours,” Steve says warmly, settling back in his chair and kicking one leg over the other. “You’re the one that literally survived death, Ed. It doesn’t get any more metal than that.” 

“Now who’s the smoothtalker?” Eddie smirks, and he hopes he isn’t blushing. Steve Harrington calling him metal with so much pride and affection in his voice is doing numbers on his heart. Curse this stupid fucking crush.

Steve eyes divert briefly to the heart monitor, which has not once calmed down since the second he’d lifted up his shirt, and Eddie is so sure that he knows then, that he’s finally made the connection between what’s got Eddie’s heart racing, but he doesn’t say anything, just laughs it off again, smiling like everything’s completely normal as he looks back at Eddie and rolls his eyes and mutters in return, “Shut up.” 

“Make me,” Eddie mumbles, not quick enough to bite back the words before they fall from his mouth, only managing to lower his voice enough that maybe Steve didn’t hear him. 

“What?” 

“TV?” Eddie grabs the remote, pretends like that’s what he’d said in the first place. Real smooth. 

“Oh, sure.” Steve shrugs. If he noticed Eddie’s slip, he gives no indication of it. 

Eddie turns on the TV and they spend the next hour or so laughing and making fun of the bad acting on the show that’s playing. Easy, normal, platonic. Eddie’s heart rate stabilizes, remaining even so long as he doesn’t look too long at Steve’s smile. 

When sleep starts lapping at Eddie’s consciousness, he doesn’t fear it anymore. Silently, he holds out his hand, and Steve takes it, wrapping him in the warmth and protection that allows Eddie to let himself drift off undaunted. 

And in his dreams his hands skate across Steve’s skin again.

(part seven)

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[chuuzmii]

omfg i stg some of you guys have this weird need to put Buck on a pedestal because why did i just see a post saying "buck has been there for all of eddies horrific breakups he knows what hes capable of" and "buddie cant happen rn cus buck cant fix eddie"... has buck not also had shitty relationships? am i tweaking? has buck not had issues in his relationships? im confused? and I fond this whole narrative that Buck can't date Eddie while he's struggling mentally sooooo weird like people do not date to fix each other.. they date because they LIKE eachother no matter the others issues.. Buck hasn't even "fixed" himself idk why u guys are so caught up in this idea that hes going to want to "fix" Eddie. He's already been there for Eddie through all his other mental health breakdowns do u really honestly think if they start dating THAT is going to be the reason their relationship cant work?

its just so annoyinggggg watching u guys try to act like buck has never done anything ever.. like hes not an angel hes JUST SOME GUY!! HE MAKES MISTAKES!! Literally nobody on 911 has been 100% correct EVER! why do u guys want him to be perfect so bad.. perfect characters are boringg i love watching him and the others make mistakes while trying to do what they think is right

[butchdiaz]

tagged by @iinryer to do a 2024 fic roundup but i'm adding my videos in too because. uh. its fun to look back! and i want to!

MARCH

american teenager (36s)

my first ever commission! for my best friend bia! to this day i hear do what you want (do more!) everytime i listen to this song.

APRIL

arms (1:02)

this was for seti. and it hurt.

good luck babe! (1:11)

literally never felt euphoria the same since the week of bi buck when i made this. changed the timeline. (although i was so euphoric and excited to post that i cropped in a rush and left a little white line in one of the shots and it pisses me off massively to this day. yes im a virgo thanks for asking)

to open up my arms and give it all to you (2.5k)

my little buck coming out to chris fic with hints of buddie <3 bi buck got me writing again after months of literal Nothing. god bless

one of your girls (3:09)

kirby's vision went OFF. so proud of this one like. its gotta be one of my favs and i feel like it became a bit of a butchdiaz classic which makes me so happy :D

MAY

kill her freak out (1:33)

this video is my little baby. ohhh samia. ouaagh eddie.

scared of my guitar (2:23)

shoutout to the way the dialogue syncs up in this one. rly satisfying to me hehehe. honestly didn't think i'd like this one as much as i do but she hits hard

promise (1:15)

love when people commission me to edit songs im already currently obsessing over yay!!!!!

JUNE

happy to be here (2:16)

julien baker. eddie diaz. aka abby had a mental breakdown making this one.

closed hands, full of friends (45s)

this was my first time editing a song i had Never heard beforehand! 3 cheers for finding new music!!

JULY

l'amour de ma vie (3:26)

ok not to toot my own horn but. this one is good. i feel like i really told a story u know. and about now is when i started to play around with fun/more intricate text ooh ooooh

a burning hill (1:01)

this prompt was designed in a lab to kill me specifically. i wanted to do the whole song originally but i like. could not go on.

my ego dies at the end (2:49)

i reallyyyy like this one. long edits my beloved! i love to build to something. i rewatch this one often tbh. jensen mcrae is everythinggg

AUGUST

north star (2:16)

again, had never heard this song b4 i got this prompt and it got me obsessed with this searows album. this edit makes me feel all soft. rly loved incorporating fleabag into it bc like. fleabag for life. shoutout summerofbuddie for the inspo

feels like (58s)

this song has been on my buddie playlist(s) forever so i was So excited to get this prompt. it was so fun to make something. not depressing and just like. fluffy. fun fact i hand drew all the hearts for this in ps and they were such a pain to work with but i really love how it turned out cause i'd never done anything like that before :')

pink balloon (2:29)

finally made a proper buck amv. after so many eddie ones it was actually nice to switch it up. felt re-inspired! also always so inspired by samia ugh. i am an eddiegirl literally to my bones tho so this was both v hard and v fun to make.

SEPTEMBER

"i want a divorce" / "it was a date" (2:19)

the buckshannon parallels ouuugughhh. this was one of those ones that haunted me so persistently i literally was forced to make it. saw hanna's post and then blacked out and i was posting this.

had a feeling i could be someone (3k)

+

leave tonight or live and die this way (1.1k)

dyke buddie!!!!!!!! these fics are sooooo near and dear to my heart. i love to make everyone wlw! i love to project my butchness onto my fav characters! wrote these so fast (for me) like writing has Never flown out of me like that. i was possessed by the spirit of lesbianism. and. GOD. the response to these fics also makes me want to cry daily. the beautiful art that was created?????? for me and my little fic?????????? i actually can't believe it i love you guys so much. lesbians forever and ever and ever.

did it to myself (1:11)

another one of my favs. i think it slaps so hard tbh. i tried a lot of new stuff and it was so FUN. orla's music is so much fun to edit to i need to do another one of her songs asap.

afraid of heights (2:46)

boygenius wrote this for my friend buck buckley. got entirely consumed by this one. thank u han for being my buckafraidofheights warrior for life <3

headlock (2:23)

i love buck but i remember coming back to making an eddie amv and breathing a sigh of relief. i just Get him. its so easy. this one's underrated i think oop it kinda slaps

OCTOBER

savior complex (3:16)

this one was a rly good challenge and idek why. super happy with how it turned out though i like watching it back

NOVEMBER

funeral bell (2:54)

the buck thesis statement. to me. and such a crazy unique process. loved working w kaitlin on this one and sending her 10 million drafts (she rly got a behind the scenes tour yall and it was not pretty). this was an absolute BEAST to make despite it not even being that complicated. i think i just cared so much about making it perfect for my dear friend who trusted me with her visions and inspiration and that made it all the more special!

you get your dreams for free (14.8k)

drunk cuddling!!!!!!!! my longest fic i've posted to date and i fully thought i was never gonna finish it. i abandoned this last YEAR but im SO glad i came back to it and most of the reason for that is because of the absolutely lovely responses to my earlier fics this year <3 literally hilarious to me that i originally wanted to post this on halloween 2023. abby. abby no.

surrender my heart! (1:30)

post-confessions euphoria + a carly rae jepsen prompt? i was literally in heaven. SURRENDER UR HEART EDDIEEEEEEEEE

DECEMBER

every place leads back to your place (2.1k)

music inspires me soooo much (looks up at this post. no way right.) so i absolutely loved writing based off a song! and a chappell song nonetheless!! so fun to twist a breakup song around to fit Them. i particularly love the kiss in this one <3

oldie's station (3:17)

phew we're almost there! this one is recent but lowkey it feels like another classic to me already. i really really like it. making it felt like cooking a three course meal and watching it kinda feels like eating one :D (thank god) (i spent so many hours in that kitchen)

letter to god (1974) (2:27)

+

letter to god (1983) (1:52)

putting these together bc they are sister songs and sister videos. first time in my life i've worked on two videos at once. it was fun because they kind of grew together and influenced each other very directly. not fun because i ran out of space and my laptop crashed. several times. these felt rly indulgent and raw. kind of shocking to me how perfect both songs feel for both of them. had a lot of fun messing with the voice/video filters to try and place these in their respective eras bc im obsessed with that aspect of the songs. halsey's artistry is crazy yall if u havent listened to her newest album GO. NOW.

the rush of slumber party kissing (3.2k)

posted this literally yesterday lol. also my first time writing smut. somehow. scary! but i did giggle all the way through writing this tbh. when buddie reveal their true nature as silly teenage girls >>>>>>>>>>

SPECIAL SHOUTOUT

fleabag au wip, who saw the light of day again this year. she could be finished in six months or six more years, but she Will be finished. im determined!

<3

ok if u read all that uh. wow congrats fhdhhdh im gonna get sappy for JUST A SEC now cause uh. im actually blown away by the support and love and appreciation this fandom has shown me this past year. you guys have given me so much confidence in my skills as both an editor and a writer and you also quite literally helped me pay my rent. by making videos about gay firefighters. its actually kind of mind blowing to me how lucky i am and i never want to take that for granted <3

to anyone who has commissioned me, or sent me a prompt, or left a comment on a fic, or a tag on a video, or sent me a kind ask, or subscribed to me, or followed me, or reblogged anything of mine this year: thank you.

im so grateful for this little community and all the friends and connections i have made through our collective insanity over a procedural drama on abc (neé fox). yall rock so hard.

<3

tagging @userbuddie @chronicowboy @confessionseddie @try-set-me-on-fire @userautumn @lovelettered @exhuastedpigeon @sibylsleaves @saryasy @team-118 @lemmeaskthedevil @eddiebabygirldiaz if u wanna do any sort of yearly roundup!

[lesbianrobin]

non-exhaustive list of films that would cause eddie diaz to have a mental breakdown and/or cry so hard he throws up:

moonlight (2016). self explanatory.

the only son (1936). eddie might actually kill himself if he watched this. he would just be silent for like hours after watching and that night he would just stand in christopher's doorway watching him sleep for like minimum forty-five minutes. he would exist in a state of profound pessimism and melancholy until he saw buck again at which point he would forget about all of that and be normal. sometimes in his life he will randomly remember the only son (1936) and be like chris. you know that i'll be proud of you no matter what you do with your life right. all i want is for you to be happy. and chris will be like yeah.... why are you talking like we're in a movie and you have a terminal illness. and eddie's like i'm not talking like that i'm being normal. i'm a father. and chris is like ok weirdo. and eddie feels better.

the babadook (2014). self explanatory.

4th man out (2015). he would be like this movie is so dumb it's So dumb and then 1. cry when adam comes out to his mom and 2. get deeply invested in the relationship between adam and nick and when they kiss toward the end he'd be like YESSSSS but then when they laugh it off and say they're just friends he'd be like oh..... and feel really upset about it for reasons he cannot explain. he would rant to buck/chim/hen/bobby for like fifteen minutes about how the whole movie was CLEARLY leading up to a romantic conclusion between them and the writers were just being cowards for going with the best bros ending and buck would be like EXACTLY and everyone else would be like 👀😳 and hen would be like well i think they were trying to make the point that gay men can still have close intimate friendships with other men without it being sexual and eddie would be like okay well then those guys shouldn't have had so much chemistry!! and chim would be like yknow some might say that you and buck have good chemistry. and buck would be like we do <3 and eddie would be like hell yeah we do and they'd fuckin fist bump or something and the entire firehouse is like oh my GODDDDDD.

but i'm a cheerleader (1999). self explanatory.

brokeback mountain (2005). self explanatory.

captain america: the winter soldier (2014). eddie reacts So strongly to this movie and nobody understands it (including eddie) except for buck who immediately and instinctively understands that eddie is projecting onto both steve rogers and bucky barnes but only the sad lonely soldier losing himself and hurting the people he loves against his will parts + completely bypassing the hero parts. also steve's like "even when i had nothing i had bucky" and eddie is like hhhhhhhhh...

the pit, the pendulum and hope/kyvadlo, jáma a naděje (1983). okay look. i'm aware that nobody knows what this is. it is a short film inspired by edgar allan poe's "the pit and the pendulum" and auguste villiers de l'isle-adam's "a torture by hope." you should all go watch it but if you don't let me just tell you that eddie would have another panic attack and/or throw up.

the lord of the rings: return of the king (2003). self explanatory.

[wingedquill]

@steddiemicrofic prompt for september! | "charm" wc 548 | rating: T | cw: (non-terminal) cancer

Steve sneaks out of his own party about two hours in.

It’s just…God, it’s overwhelming. His dad and Hopper are having some kinda macho mental breakdown in the corner, and his mom keeps pressing food into his hands, and the look on Robin’s face is just—it's joy, and pride, and fear, all directed at him, and he doesn't know what to do with it.

The whole room is heavy with his people's love for him, so strong he swears he could reach out and grab it. He'll go back in later and bathe in it, but for now, he retreats outside.

It's cold and drizzling, so of course Eddie's already there, sitting by the edge of the pool with his feet in the water. Steve pauses for a moment to just…stare at him, to take him in. The pool light wavers off his face, his freckle-dotted shoulders, the just-barely-long-enough-to-curl fuzz on his head. He looks beautiful.

He almost looks healthy.

 “Someday I’m gonna write about this,” Eddie says, as Steve kicks off his shoes and sits down next to him. “I’m gonna make us all incredibly smart, incredibly sexy action heroes who never lose, and I’m gonna twist the facts enough that Uncle Sam won’t tear my dick off, and I’m gonna make a million dollars on the film rights.”

“Yeah?” Steve snorts.

“Yeah. And I’m gonna make us vampires.”

Steve shivers, a raindrop slipping down the back of his neck and underneath his shirt. He leans into Eddie’s side, chasing his warmth.

“Vampires, huh?”

“It fits, right? Bats bite you, inject you with their weird bat venom, and your blood cells start mutating and multiplying faster than your body can keep up. Boom. Vampires.”

He winds his arm around Steve’s shoulders and pulls him closer, so close that Steve thinks he might fall right through Eddie’s skin and into his heart. It’s how they’ve gotten used to touching each other, these past six months.

Steve wonders if they’ll stop, eventually. If the fact that they have time now means they can stop holding each other like a breath.

He hopes they don’t.

“It’s a lot sexier than cancer,” Eddie says. “Isn’t it?”

“Maybe,” Steve says. “But you can’t go into remission from vampirism.”

It’s the first time he’s said the word, and it feels a bit like champagne on his tongue. Bubbly and bright and fucking intoxicating.

“Guess you can’t,” Eddie concedes. He kicks a foot forward, sending a spray of water up to meet the rain. “God. Fuck. You’re in remission.”

“I’m in remission,” Steve says. “We’re in remission. We made it.”

Eddie sniffles. Turns and presses a kiss into the side of Steve’s head.

“I feel like I should give this back to you, now,” Steve says, fiddling with the guitar pick around his neck. Eddie had given it to him the day he’d gone into remission, almost two months ago. 

My lucky charm. It got me this far, he’d said, curling Steve’s fingers around it. It’ll bring you the rest of the way.

“Fuck, no,” Eddie laughs wetly. “Keep it. You need all the luck you can get.”

“What about you?” Steve asks.

“I don’t need it. I’ve got you, don’t I?”

“Yeah,” Steve whispers as the rain comes down harder. “You’ve got me.”

[lenaboskow]

eddie diaz is a good dad.

say it with me, eddie diaz is a good dad.

he's just had a rough few years. covid happened, and then he got shot. when he woke up, he started having panic attacks, and then his ptsd breakdown that was inadvertently caused by his therapist. then, his best friend, his life partner in every way but one, got struck by lightning and was dead for 3 minutes and 17 seconds. now this whole kim thing? give the man a break.

i think eddie will let his parents take chris for the summer while he works things out, and they'll start the fall refreshed and in a better place mentally. he just needs the time.

[theshippirate22]

somehow all my old hyperfixations are fighting for dominance in my brain which is probably like a way to fight off seasonal depression but regardless i’m thinking about Stranger Things and a fic I wrote twenty five pages of and then abandoned and I feel the need to share it with you

The premise was like? witch trials and scarlet letter based kind of but it was really lore deep so i feel the need to give you some highlights of it:

-Hawkins is like this Evil Wonderland/Upside down fairytale kingdom that’s like super religious because the place was so cursed

-They have a religious text called The Guidebook which prophecied the coming of anti-christ known as Kaz the Destroyer that would seek evil to prepare the world for the evil reign of Lord Vecna

-it also foretold of signs of this coming all of which are beginning to come true in the story

-there are rabid demodogs living in the forests that surround Hawkins so it’s really hard to get in and out and everyone knows not to go to the woods (i also thing the dogs couldn’t be in the light? so they stayed in the woods all the time and became more dangerous when the sun was down)

-Steve is the new king because his father had just recently died and its revealed that before the story starts, he keeps having “fits” and they diagnose him with nerves (he had anxiety lmao) so he had to go away to live on a merchant ship to get the sea air to fix his brain for two years and the story starts with him coming back to Hawkins after this time

-While away on the ship, he makes friends with another sailor named Robert and they suffer through the labor together until it’s revealed right before he returns to Hawkins that it’s actually Robin and she’s been a woman this whole time. Since her cover is blown she comes back to Hawkins with him

-Nancy is like a head advisor and one of the high priests and everyone expects Steve to marry her because they were together before his mental breakdown but neither of them are into it

-Dustin is like legally Steve’s brother because Steve’s dad and Dustin’s dad fought in the war together and when Dustin’s dad died Steve’s dad promised to look after him and Claudia so he’s the next heir and the prince of Hawkins

-Hopper is the head of guards and Joyce owns the best five and dime/bar establishment and their relationship is exactly the way it is in the show like will they won’t they but they will lol

-Alexei works the counter at the store and can’t speak very good English and has very strong silly opinions on things and the boys love him

-The party is as it always is- Lucas and Mike are sons of nobles so they’re allowed to hang out with Dustin and Will gets specially privileges for being awesome and Joyce and Hoppers kid.

-Byler is happening but like season 2 type Byler where they’re just silly and cute

-El is a genuine witch with powers and Joyce, Hopper, Will, and Jonathan are the only ones that know and they just don’t mention it like ever

-Will is meant to be the next prophet (but no one knows that) so he’s plagued by visions and it’s really complicated and exhausting for him

-There’s a side plot where Billy and Max belong to a caravan of traveling performers that always come to Hawkins for Steve’s birthday and Billy has this whole plan to become one of Steve’s concubines so he can pay for Max to go to school

-Max wants to stay with the caravan but she knows she doesn’t really have a choice so she’s annoyed at Steve constantly even though it’s not his fault. She also has a sixth sense like fortune teller premonition style and when things start to get funky in Hawkins she seizes and falls into a trance with the power of it and Billy is fucked up about it and will do anything to bring her back

-Eddie, of course, is just the local charlatan that’s kind of known for being a menace but is relatively harmless besides some vandalism here and there

-Eddie also continually kidnaps Robin because then Steve comes after her and it’s funny to him plus he has a crush on Steve and how else are they going to see each other and they have this funny little back and forth thing.

-Chrissy is killed the way The Guidebook described would happen and suddenly the catalyst to put the return of Kaz in motion has now happened

-Jason, the priest, is convinced that Eddie is the one chosen to be the reincarnation of Kaz and that there is evil in him and this total witch hunt for Eddie starts

-In the hysteria, Joyce keeps Will and El locked in the shops attack because she thinks the witchcraft+visions will get them killed so for a good chunk of it they’re just. up there

-This is when Max goes out and Billy goes to Steve to beg him to help her but like. he doesn’t know what to do

-A series of tortures are forced in Eddie like in Salem to prove that he is Kaz (even though he’s not) including one moment where they chain him to the floor of the church and cut his hair with rusty shears and it’s really humiliating and dehumanizing

-Steve has realized he’s also in love with him at this point but they have this like crisis relationship because the kingdom is in shambles and when Eddie gets dragged back to the castle bald with his head all sliced up Steve almost goes batshit insane but then Jason spins the narrative that Kaz has seduced Steve and he can’t be trusted and the manic mob of townspeople believe him

-They’re going to start testing Steve too so Eddie makes an under the table deal with Jason that they can burn him at the stake if they just leave Steve alone

-He doesn’t want Steve to know what’s going on because he’ll try to stop him but he also doesn’t want Steve to blame himself when it’s done, so he tries to convince Steve that he actually is Kaz so he’ll hate him, which features a tragic moment where Eddie is sobbing and Steve is sobbing too and he just keeps saying “no you’re not evil you couldn’t be evil they’ve gotten in your head but i’m gonna fix it i’m gonna make you feel better”

-Steve doesn’t realize what’s happening until it’s too late and Eddie is too gone to save so he really stupidly prays and begs for something to save Eddie literally anything and when he gets to the pyre, Eddie is there and he’s alive!

-Except he’s not because it’s not him, Kaz the Destroyer just heard Steve’s plea and because Eddie would’ve done anything Steve wanted, he now had the consent to reanimate Eddie’s body. so now Eddie really is Kaz lmao

-Because Eddie’s body “belongs” to Steve through technicality because they’re in love with each other, Kaz is forced to submit to Steve until Vecna returns. Which is coming quickly

-So then everybody gets together with this coming of Vecna situation because they’re gonna have to defeat him but they have Kaz and because Eddie was so in love with Steve, Kaz is also a little bit in love with Steve and is like fiercely protective of him

-When i wrote it i initially imagined a really awesome fencing montage where Kaz has to teach all of them individually how to fence

-They get together a group to travel beyond the Hawkins woods to find the reclusive current prophet (Murray) and he very quickly can tell everything that’s going on with everybody in true Murray fashion and they manage to convince him to come back to Hawkins to help.

-Will’s visions get more and more intense and Max begins to convulse and enter sort of possessed periods where she seems to be awake and speaks prophecies and it’s uber creepy before falling back into bed as lifeless as before. the demodogs start acting insane and begin venturing from their woods and into the town so nowhere is safe

-Vecna ultimately does end up coming back and Kaz’s loyalty shifts to him and Steve is devastated and the gang has to do a canon-typical attack to get defeat Vecna but there’s a moment where they are almost beat and Vecna has Steve by the throat and tells Kaz that it’s time to kill him

-He plays on the fact that Kaz should want to kill him because he was his servant for so long even though Steve is nothing but a mortal and this is his chance to get revenge

-Kaz steps up, holding Steve there off one of the balconies of the castle ready to strike and Steve realizes he’s going to die in this moment and then he sees it

-Kaz is standing there looking at him and his eyes (which turned blood red as soon as Kaz entered the body) flash for a moment back to Eddie’s brown eyes but it’s just a moment and Steve is sure he imagined it

-Then Kaz throws Steve down off the balcony, whips around and cuts Vecna’s head clean off, before leaping down after Steve to catch him before he hits the ground.

-I don’t remember exactly how it ended but I’m pretty sure Kaz ends up leaving Eddie’s body and taking over Jason’s instead and Eddie is able to come back to life because Kaz’s power healed the body and then him and Steve get married

-And Kaz is just like. around still because he’s better than Jason lmaoooo

Anyway sorry that was long I just thought it was worth sharing!

[ok555ficideas]

beginning of "We made these memories for ourselves", Buddie amnesia fic, that I will be updating every Sunday on ao3

Buck was sitting on the couch, drinking his beer and looking into the distance. He was alone, again. Another relationship to add to the list of his many failures. The fact that he had convinced himself, once again, that this was going to be different just because it made him discover this whole new part of himself, was ridiculous. Nothing was ever going to be different, he was going to fail over and over again and he was slowly losing the ability to care. He always knew that there was something inherently wrong with him, but he still held onto the idea that he could change, that with a new software update would come the wisdom of how to keep someone, or rather how to become someone worth keeping.

He didn’t feel like talking about it, he didn’t even want to think about it. That’s why he came to Eddie. His best friend would be the last person to make him talk and also Buck thought that it would be good to be miserable together. Eddie didn’t really show it, but Buck knew he was only hanging on by a thread. Everyday Buck was mentally preparing himself for Eddie’s inevitable breakdown.

Except Eddie didn’t look miserable right now, not at all. He looked lighter, he looked free. Buck has never seen him like this. There were moments that came close. When he was laughing with Chris or during a slow shift when they would sit in the loft and just talk or during Chim’s bachelor party, but none of those times compared to this. Right now Eddie was sitting next to him, drinking his beer with content expression and relaxed figure. His body was sprawled across the couch, his legs, that Buck was only now realizing were bare, were slightly spread and his head was resting comfortably on the back of the sofa.

For a moment Buck had forgotten everything else. His whole focus was on the care-free man next to him. His eyes traveled all across the other man’s body, not able to focus on anything specific. He wanted to take it all in, he wanted to never look away. He stared at Eddie’s feet that were touching the ground. The white socks slid down a little to reveal even more of his skin.

Buck’s gaze went slowly higher. He was transfixed on every detail, every mole. The amount of skin was obscene and Buck wanted to yell at Eddie to put something on and simultaneously to never wear pants in front of him ever again. The move of his stare was steady until he reached Eddie’s thighs. He wanted to bury himself between them. His gaze traveled even higher and he almost choked on his beer when he saw that the way Eddie was sitting made his shirt rise high enough to expose his underwear. Buck only managed to catch a glimpse of his bulge before he had to force himself to look higher to prevent himself from doing something stupid like leaning down and putting his mouth against the offensive material.

He kept looking higher and higher, desperately wishing he could unbutton Eddie’s shirt to see the man’s chest as he went. He wanted to cover his whole middle with kisses and trace Eddie’s abs with his tongue. He thought that he had survived the worst of it until his gaze landed on Eddie’s exposed neck. His best friend was still lying with his head thrown back and his throat looked like a canvas made just for Buck. He would look so pretty covered in marks. Buck could imagine it so clearly; Eddie a moaning mess below him as Buck was sucking on his neck like a starving man. He would go high so no clothes would be able to cover his marks on Eddie’s skin. He would put a hickey right on Eddie’s jaw and capture his kissable lips a moment later.

He wondered what it would feel like to get burns from a-

“You shaved.” His voice was raspier than he intended so he quickly cleared his throat to shake away the feeling.

Eddie only hummed in agreement, not elaborating further. His eyes met Buck’s and he had to look away. It was one thing to stare at Eddie’s body and completely another to stare into his eyes. That would break him, it would make all of his composure fly right out of the window, and he couldn't have that.

He looked away, and that was a colossal mistake. In front of him on Eddie’s mantel stood various photos. There was one that Buck recognized immediately. It was the same one Buck had proudly displayed on his fridge. It wasn’t the only one that had Buck in it, and it was definitely not the only one Buck had of the Diaz’s in his loft either. The more he looked at the pictures, the more they looked like a family.

He managed to tear his gaze away only to be met with his hoodie, casually lying in one of the armchairs. He didn’t even realize he left it here, now that he thought about it, he never had to wear Eddie’s clothes when he was sleeping over unexpectedly. There always seemed to be something of his lying around. There were aprons that only he ever wore in the kitchen and there was always a toothbrush ready for him in the bathroom.

And listen, Buck was well aware of his own attraction to Eddie. As soon as he came to terms with his bisexuality, he realized that Eddie was incredibly hot. Scratch that, he knew Eddie was incredibly hot from the moment he first laid his eyes on the man, but that was that. Eddie was an attractive man, the sky was blue and Bobby was an amazing cook. Those were just objective truths of the universe. No one in their right minds would deny Eddie being beautiful, even if they weren’t into guys.

So he wasn't specifically worried. He looked, of course he did, Tommy said it was normal, that it was okay. It didn’t mean anything. He had a boyfriend and even though he had just been broken up with and the thoughts he had about Eddie a few minutes ago spiraled a little bit out of control, that was it. Attraction, nothing more.

But as he looked around the house, the one that he felt the most at home in and saw how much of himself was engraved within it, he was struck by a horrifying realization.

What he felt for Eddie was so much more than attraction and he was completely fucked.

“Are you gonna talk about it?” Eddie’s voice pulled him out of his racing thoughts.

He looked back at him and his breath caught in his throat. He was not prepared to look at that man after his realization. It was too much, too soon. He went from being heartbroken, because his first boyfriend dumped him, claiming that he wouldn’t be his last, to realizing that he was probably right, since Buck was pretty sure he was done for. This was it for him, Eddie was it. Eddie was everything. None of his previous relationships compared and there wouldn’t be any future relationships to erase Eddie, because Buck was done. He couldn't do that to someone. He was in love with his best friend and there was no one else for him out there.

“Talk about what?” He forced himself to speak.

“About the reason you’re sitting on my couch, sulking, instead of being on a date with Tommy,” Eddie teased.

He looked so different. He looked like the pain and weight of last months, scratch that, of his whole life, was lifted off his shoulder.

“Tommy broke up with me,” he replied absentmindedly and waved his hand in an effort to curb Eddie’s possible worry and questions.. It didn't matter right now, Buck had more pressing matters to attend to. “Forget it, I’m more interested in what happened here.”

And wasn’t that the whole truth. Buck would always be more interested in what happened to Eddie than anyone else. He was wondering if Tommy picked up on that, if the real reason was not the fact that most of your firsts are not your last, but rather because Tommy already knew who the last was for Buck. If only there was a possibility of Buck being the last for Eddie as well.

“Penance.”

Buck’s confusion must have shown on his face, because Eddie laughed under his breath. It took a lot of composure to not fall to his knees right there and then.

“Long story short, I decided to let myself feel joy.”

[mischiefbuckley]

I want to see Eddie’s sisters on the show. I need to see this man who we have seen time and time again be an adoring and loving father to his son show us how protective and caring he is towards his sisters and especially with the dynamic of how they grew up with the parents they had as well like it would be very interesting to see say if there was an Eddie Begins Again/Eddie centric episode in season 8 to see how that plays into Eddie’s childhood and again the whole Mexican Catholic religious background he had growing up and how that’s affected his life time and time again from feeling forced into a marriage because he found out his girlfriend is pregnant and that was the right thing to do, but later signing up for the military because again he is the man of the house and is suppose to provide for his family, so he’s mirroring what he has seen growing up with his father never being present and always working.

When he does come back after the end of his first tour he’s met with medical debt in the form of his son Christopher being diagnosed with Cerebral Palsy, so again what does he do he signs up for another tour, so he is able to take care of the bills and make sure Shannon stays at home and takes care of Christopher because that’s the role his mom had when he was growing up, again mirroring his childhood experiences being that both him and Shannon were young parents and Eddie didn’t know any better. When he does come back after he’s awarded the silver star, he has trouble assimilating back to what his life is suppose to be. He’s suppose to be the supporting husband to his wife and kid and on top of still having his parents never thinking he is doing enough as the man of his own family now. When Shannon leaves him to go take care of her mom, his family immediately blames her for everything and tries to take advantage of the situation of Eddie being busy and trying to provide for his son by working 3 different jobs while also keep in mind already thinking of the future and he had been looking at other cities to move to because again he didn’t want his son being raised in the type of environment he was raised in. He got offers from Chicago and LA, but ultimately he ended up choosing LA and started his probationary year at the LAFD at station 118. And throughout his journey on the show we have seen him time and time again not only adjust to his new life now that’s he’s living in Los Angeles, but he has a positive support system around him including a new best friend who he can rely on and they have each others backs no matter what.

And when we get to season 5 where he’s going to therapy and talking about his past trauma and ptsd from being in the military and we see him be vulnerable and we see him as he has his mental breakdown after he finds out that the people he saved back in Afghanistan have all died, he’s at a lost for words and doesn’t know how to handle that pain so he completely loses it and the one person that comes to his rescue and supports him through everything is Buck. So it will be very interesting to see now with how season 8 pans out how they will tackle the whole catholic storyline if Eddie is going back to church now that he’s all alone and can’t really rely on his primary role of being a father because he’s son is away and for the first time in his life he is completely alone with all his emotions. It will again be very interesting to see what different storylines they have planned out for him, but even with the interview today that was released where Tim mentions that he’s even isolated in a sense from Buck with him being in a relationship and his time outside of work being limited on when they can hangout and it sounded like Eddie would be third wheeling so it will be something to watch with everything else he has going on if they are going down with the catholic guilt storyline with him coming to terms with his sexuality

[vanpalmersgf]

Long rant ahead 💀

I agree with the autistic Tommy kinard!!! I hate the anti saying how Tommy is just a shitty character and not autistic and it’s ableist to claim he is. Then I’m like ??? So many people headcanon buck as adhd way before Oliver agreed and no one had a problem with that? I am audhd and I relate to both Tommy and buck. It’s like no one cna have a headcanon anymore. I have been a buddie fan since the very beginning and I am enjoying bucktommy! But…all these hateful buddie Stan’s are actually making me hate buddie .

Aside from this everyone abc post something the start posting homophobic stuff towards Tommy. Have started saying Tommy and Lou should just die. 😐

Last point is that, they don’t have any media comprehension skills. They both infantilize buck then turn around and claim bucktommys do that to him?? Buck has gone to therapy for so long and is actively working on his abandonment issues and trying not to hold people too tightly etc ei him apologizing for being a jerk to Eddie and Tommy, letting Chris go to Texas with his grandparents. He is just discovering being bi Tommy is more experience so it makes sense as well as him having familial connections to the 118 makes him a safe choice for now. Eddie runs away from all his problems and it’s not bucks responsibility to fix Eddie. Eddie hasn’t gone to therapy after that whole fiasco. He needs to work on himself first. If buddie were to happen it needs to be a place were to lines meet. While support is good sacrificing ones mental health for another partner is so bad.

Also the season was short. The cruise took a big part of the season as well as working the wedding then the bi Buck storyline and ending with an Eddie breakdown. Antis complain about bucktommy not getting so many scenes together etc. BFFR

The whole “TOMMY WAS TRYING TO GET WITH EDDIE FIRST” I hate. Can gay men not have friends?!?!? Crazy concept!! YOU CNA BE GAY AND HAVE FRIENDS Like Tommy reconnected with chim hen and Bobby and then met both buck and Eddie. Realized both Eddie and him had so much in common compared to the other at the 118. THEY CALL TOMMY A PREDATOR AS IF THAT ISNT SOME FUCKING WEIRD ASS HOMOPHOBIA. and then claim that people just wanna see to white guys kiss calling it a fetishizing.I AM A AUDHD HISPANIC BISEXUAL GUY WHO HAS A BRAIN PLS USE YOURS.

sorry but like I hate the 9-1-1 fandom so much now.

anon you speak the truth !!! 10/10 agree with everything you said. Truthfully I have nothing to add other than it’s nice to know that other people think the same as I do and the hate circulated in just a loud minority of viewers. <3 🚒

[her-power]

Last Chance to Dance (Part Two: Rockstar! e.m. x fem reader)

🚨🛑🔞18+++ MINORS DNI - YOU WILL BLOCKED🚨🛑🔞 TRIGGER/CONTENT WARNING (For entire series): Rockstar! Addict! Sweet! Mean! Eddie, smut, unprotected p+v, fluff, fingering (f receiving), masturbation, oral (m+f receiving), heavy drug use, descriptions of IV drug use, swearing, talks of anxiety, panic disorder, mental illness, talks of suicide.

Last Chance to Dance: Part One

Eddie Munson Masterlist

Summary: Full summary on Part One.

Word Count: 11.2k

A/N: I love you guys, send me blurbs and one shots to write. <3

The roar of the crowd vibrates my entire core as the four of us wait to run on the stage; we did our huddle, and I jumped back and forth on the balls of my feet as we waited for our signal. Gareth goes out first, sits behind the drums, and his feet hit the double bass petal, followed by the snare. The rest of us run out to the stage, the crowd’s cheers get louder, and I slam the riff to Poison Me on my guitar. We ease into the song beautifully, I go up to the mic, singing the lyrics to the song. It’s one of our oldest songs, and a fan favorite. Jeff growls out the sub lyrics as I jump around the stage, throwing Sweetheart around my shoulder, my hair whipping around my face. The adrenaline courses through my veins, and I feel the sweat pour down my chest as I go into a guitar breakdown. Gareth sings the last part of the song while drumming. We hadn’t spoken about the other night; we really haven’t spoken at all, but we had other things to focus on. 

Once the song ends, I take a beer bottle from the side of the stage, swallowing the whole thing back, smiling as I toss the empty bottle into the crowd. I go up to the microphone, moving my damp hair out of my eyes. 

“What the fuck is up Atlanta?!” I shout in the microphone and laugh when the crowd roars to life again. “It’s crazy being back here, we’re on the last leg of the tour so we appreciate you guys coming out!” A pair of panties gets thrown at me and I catch it with one hand, I stick my tongue out and wave it around my fingers. I toss it to the ground and pull my shirt over my head, getting screams and cheers from the crowd. 

I strum the cords on Sweetheart, looking behind me at Gareth, who nods, and we go into the next song. The rest of the night was phenomenal; it made me a little sad that it would be a while before we came back here. Once we ended the night with an encore of If it bleeds red from our first album, we all do a bow, I blow kisses to the crowd, get two to three more pairs of panties thrown at me, I take one pair, shoving it in my back pocket as we leave the stage. 

I immediately take a bottle of water from the mini fridge in our dressing room and chug it, pouring the rest over my body, the cold water biting my skin so pleasantly. 

Jeff claps my shoulder. “Good show, brother.” 

I smile at him, wiping my hair out of my face. “You too.” I plop on the couch, taking the pair of panties out of my pocket and throwing it at him, he catches it awkwardly and laughs. “Do something with these.” 

“Ew, they’re all sweaty.” Jeff immediately tosses them in the trash, and I giggle, taking out a cigarette and lighting it. I lean my head back against the couch, closing my eyes. I hear a commotion in the back hallway, and I see Gareth’s form come through the door, looking like Hulk, full of rage.

“Trashing hotel rooms now?” He shouts at me, throwing an envelope at me, which I assume is a bill, I don’t even bother looking at it.

“I cleaned up.” I tell him, inhaling on the cigarette again.

“No, you didn’t! Are you fucked in the head or what? They found dirty fucking needles in the bathroom trash; the housekeeper almost stuck herself with one!” I almost feel guilty at that, almost. 

“I’ll write them a check to pay for the damages.” I mutter. “There, problem solved.”

Gareth’s eyes are wide as he stares at me, he laughs. “Dude, you’ve completely lost it. We’re not allowed back there, or any of the other hotels affiliated with them because of your fuck up.” 

I get up from the couch, I can feel Jeff’s eyes on me; he stands off to the side listening. He knew about me and my habits, but like the smart man he was, he didn’t say shit. Or he just didn’t care anymore. I gaze up at Gareth. 

“Just calm down, man. There are other hotels we can stay at. We’re not even gonna be back here for a long time, they’ll be over it by then.” I toss my t-shirt over my head, lighting up another cigarette.

“That’s not the fucking point, Eddie!” He screams at me. “When the fuck did you start shooting up?”

I smile and roll my eyes. “That’s none of your business.” 

“It is my fucking business.” He growls, blocking my way to leave the room and I glare at him. 

“Get the fuck out of my way.” I say, my voice low, full of anger now. 

“Why? So, you can go and shoot up in your room? No.” 

“Gareth, I’m not in the fucking mood, get out of my way.” I try to push past him, but he pushes me back, I stumble a little and a maniacal laugh escapes me, I feel like the Joker. “So strong you are, do it again, I dare you.” 

“This stops now.” He tells me. “The drugs, the women, all of it.” 

“What are you my fucking dad? I have it under control.” 

“Clearly you don’t! Are you high right now? Or is it just a bedtime routine for you?” He stares at me like I’m the biggest piece of shit in the world, maybe I am, but I’m not in the mood to deal with his shit right now. 

“Fuck off.” I tell him. “Move out of my fucking way. I’m done looking at you.”

“No, I’m not moving. You’re gonna stand there and be a fucking man and listen to what I have to say!”

“I’m done fucking listening!” I scream at him. “All I hear is fucking garbage spewing from your mouth, I’m over it and I’m fucking tired. Get out of my way.” 

I put my hands on his chest, pushing him out of the way. I’ve never put my hands on him before, but I was fucking angry. He pulls me back by my arm, and I lean back, my fist connects with his jaw, and he stumbles back into the wall. He tackles me to the ground, and we roll around, throwing punches at each other; he gets me in the gut, and I groan, kicking him off of me. My fist connects with his face a few more times before Jeff is pulling me off of him and security is holding back Gareth. I can taste the blood on my lips, and I wipe it away. 

Gareth glares at me, and I glare back. 

“Bet that felt good, huh?” I say to him, walking out of the room. I feel my manager gently touch my forearm and I pull away from him. “Leave me alone.” 

The hotel was only a minute walk from the venue, the warm air feels good against my skin, and I can already feel a bruise forming on my gut from where Gareth got me. I go into the hotel lobby through the elevators, leaning my head against the wall. The elevator things and a beautiful redhead walks into the elevator. My eyes scan over her body; her ass. She can feel my eyes on her, and she glances behind her shoulder at me. I smile at her, and she smiles back.

The elevator dings again and we both get off. 

“Looks like we’re on the same floor.” I say, not looking at her but I know she hears me as I keep walking the opposite way to my room. “457.” 

Like a moth to a flame, the woman shows up not even ten minutes later, knocking on my door. I didn’t even clean up the blood from my face yet, but she didn’t seem to care, because as soon as I open my door, her mouth is on mine, and she’s grabbing my cock through my jeans. I liked watching her tits bounce as I slam into her, I especially liked sucking on them. They were huge, and beautiful and it was a great way to end this shit night. I put a condom on; I wasn’t in the mood for risk taking tonight. She knew how to fuck though, I don’t think I came up for air once. She was a squirter too; I felt like a fucking God when she exploded all over me, dripping on my chest and thighs. I ate her out for what felt like an eternity, but I needed it, and clearly, she needed it because she was screaming so loud, I thought the whole building would fall down. When she had left, she had given me her phone number, and like an asshole I said, “I won’t be needing this, but thanks.” 

She looked at me like I kicked her dog, and I shut the door behind her, stretching out every muscle until I hear a pop in my back. I run the bath, I make it scorching just so I can sit in it and relax. As soon as my body disappears under the water, a groan escapes me, and I slowly dip my head under the water. I let the water soak me before coming up for air, I move my hair out of my face and lean behind me to get my cigarettes. My lip had stopped bleeding, and I wondered if I got any blood all over that woman. I shake my head; tonight’s events were nothing short of shitty. I felt guilty for punching Gareth more than once, I’m not so sure he deserved three punches, maybe one, but not three. It was only a matter of time before someone found out I like my heroin in needles now. I scoff, I don’t fucking care, we put on a good show tonight, so maybe he should be grateful for that. I get out of the tub and dry myself off. I pull off my necklace and place it on the bathroom sink. I didn’t even bother putting pants on, I was just going to crawl into bed after I took my good night medicine. 

I get everything set up and this time, I don’t even bother using my belt; I’m able to find a vein, and I sigh with relief as the familiar burn flows through me like a current. I lean my back against the foot of the bed, my head lulling to the side and a smile graces my lips. 

I feel my dick get hard, and I close my eyes, gently rubbing my hand over the tip, gasping softly. You suddenly are on my mind; it almost scares me into stopping, but I don’t. I picture the last time we had made love; how you were the most beautiful thing on the planet to me, and that you were mine. I imagine you in front of me now, your eyes gazing into my soul as your lips go against mine. I groan as I pump harder on my dick, biting my lower lip. I let my hands travel down in between your legs, feeling your wetness all over my fingers as I pinch your clit and you moan loudly. I kiss your beautiful breasts, swirling my tongue around your nipple, sucking gently as you tremble beneath me, your hands fisting my hair. 

I tremble and groan, pumping faster. “Fuuuuck.” 

I move my mouth down to your clit and I move my tongue in circles, tracing your hole like a pretty picture. You taste so good, so sweet and mmmm, how I miss this. I get you to cum, and once the overstimulation has settled down with with you, I slowly push my myself inside you. I grip your hips, thrusting in an out and I can already imagine you clenching around me, another orgasm building inside you. Our moans are a collection of harmonies and I feel tingles in my lower belly. My head falling back in pleasure as a guttural moan escapes me. 

I pump faster, groaning as I feel my orgasm about to explode out of me, just picturing you screaming my name was enough for me to cum. A throaty broken moan escapes me and my cum drizzles down my hand as I gently slow down my fist.

I let out a breath, slowly laying my back on the carpeted floor. My chest heaving and I smile. Being high, and having an orgasm was something so out of this world that I can’t even begin to explain. It made me crave it more, it made me crave you more and I haven’t thought about you in such a long time. It had been years, over a decade. A dull ache hits the center of my chest and I sit up quickly. I search for the needle like a mad man, knowing I have some more left in the chamber. The ache gets bigger, and I begin to panic. No no no no no no no. I don’t want to feel this. I can’t feel it. It’s too much. It’s all too much. I find the needle rolled under the bed, and I was right. There was about 2 ml left in the syringe; enough to make me go night night. 

I fucking nick myself getting the needle into a different vein, I had missed it and ended up just stabbing a piece of muscle. Once I had collected myself, I was able to re position the needle, and push the rest of the drugs into my system. I let out a deep sigh once the ache in the center of my chest disappears and I’m back to feeling nothing except this immediate euphoria that makes me feel like I can do anything and everything. 

It made me feel immortal.  Spoon full of sugar...

You and I had walked down to the duck pond together a few days later, it was the 22nd of December; the sun was out, but it was chilly. I had just finished telling you about my fight with Gareth after the show in Atlanta. You were so compassionate about us and had listened with such care that I was shocked. I was certain you would’ve run away from me the moment I told you about the heroin. You didn’t, you just held my hand as I told you, hooking our arms together as we walked on. I gaze at you, wondering why you were so goddamn kind all the time. Especially to me.

We end up walking to the same neighborhood where you were house sitting for your aunt; it wasn’t too far from my condo, maybe ten minutes. You gaze up at me and smile.

“Wanna come in? It’s getting cold, I have hot cocoa and Home Alone in the DVD player.” You tell me and I smile at you; it was getting cold, and it sounded nice to get warm. I nod and follow you up the stone steps into your aunt’s apartment. The building was nice, it reminded me of a little hotel we stayed at in London a few years ago. 

I peel my jacket off as we get inside, hanging it up on the hook. I roll up my sleeves on my black shirt and watch as you make your way to the fireplace in the middle of the living room. You squat down, using a long lighter to get the logs lit, and sit back on your heels, closing the small doors. It gets warmer in the apartment, and you gently squeeze my hand as you walk by me into the kitchen. A shiver goes down my spine after you touch me, like my body had forgotten how soft your hands were, how delicate you’d be. 

I sigh, sitting on the couch, careful not to knock anything over with my long legs. You come back out with two mugs of the hot cocoa, gently placing one in front of me. You sit next to me, curling your legs under you and you start the movie.  We didn’t even watch the movie, we just talked most of the time. 

“I know there is probably a lot more to the story, but when you got sober, did you want to get sober, or were you essentially forced to?” You ask me gently and I turn to you, resting my elbow on my knee. 

I sigh. “No. I didn’t want to get sober, I was forced to, but they kept reminding me that I was an adult, I could leave the program if I wanted to. I could also spend a few weeks in jail if I didn’t at least start a program. Eventually, I found myself wanting to be there, and that’s why I have six months under my belt. The mandatory therapy is a struggle though.” I sip the cocoa and place it down on the table. 

“Why?” You ask me.

I chuckle, staring into your eyes. “I don’t like talking about my shit.” 

“Well, you’re talking about it with me.” You say with a smirk, and I let out a laugh. 

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. You’re different though, you’ve known me your whole life. My poor therapist is paid to listen to me.” I sigh and look into your eyes. “I guess I should give her a chance.”

“I mean, it wouldn’t hurt. I’m sure there’s things you’re purposely not telling me right now.” You say, leaning your head on your palm, giving me a sweet smile. I stare at your face, your beautiful, sweet face. Your eyes dart from my lips to my eyes again, and I see the familiar curiosity in them. You sigh, placing the mug on the table. “There’s something I have to talk to you about.” 

My heart does a little back flip, but I wait patiently. You stare at your hands, fingering the rings on your right hand, and I could tell your hands were shaking. You meet my eyes, and I can see yours are already filling with tears. 

“I won’t blame you if you want to leave after this, because it’s something for the last fifteen years that still gives me a lot of emotions and,” you sniffle back tears. “I don’t regret it, but it still hurts.” 

I gently take your hand, entwining are friends. “Sweetheart, you can tell me.” 

You meet my eyes and give me a sad smile. “A few weeks after you…left. I started feeling sick, and I found out I was pregnant.” My breath is locked in my throat, but I place my other hand over yours, squeezing you gently. “I didn’t…I couldn’t keep it. I was so young, I was still in college and…trust me, the thought of having a baby had crossed my mind, especially with someone I loved. But it would just be me…and I couldn’t, I couldn’t do that to them. Selfishly, I couldn’t do that to myself.” You begin to cry, your lips trembling as you shake your head. “I’m so sorry, Eddie.” 

I cup your face, staring deeply into your eyes. “You don’t have to explain anything to me, you got that? I don’t blame you for that. That was your decision to make, and I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. I’m sorry for all of it.” 

You shake your head and more tears flow from your eyes. “Why did you leave me?”

My eyes widen at your question, it’s been a question I’ve been trying to avoid since seeing you, but I’d be stupid to not realize it was gonna come up eventually. But I still can’t answer you. “I…”

You shake your head and laugh. “It doesn’t even matter, it doesn’t even fucking matter.” You pull away from me, moving yourself off the couch and wiping your face. You stare at me, your eyes full of hurt and pain, how desperately I just want to grab you, kiss you, taste you and tell you that everything was going to be okay, that I was here now, but the words were stuck in my throat. “I shouldn’t have written you that letter, I should’ve just left it alone like I have been for so many years. But everywhere I look, I see you. Cover of magazines, on the television, on the fucking internet. I avoided you for so long and then, your dreams came true. And I mean it when I say that I’m so proud of you, because I am, but I don’t know what I was thinking, having us see each other. Having us talk about the past.” 

I stare at you, trying to process everything, trying to understand. “You wanted me here.” I say softly. 

“I know, and I’m an idiot for wasting your time.” You cross your arms over your chest, and I feel myself getting angry. 

I scoff, shaking my head. “So, what is this then? You bringing me back to your aunt’s house? Making me hot cocoa like we’re back to fucking normal? What did you think you were gonna get out of this?” 

“Answers! Something, I don’t know!” You yell at me. “You’re telling me all about your drug addiction and your rift with the band, but you’re not telling me why. Why was heroin your saving grace? Why was that the only thing that made you happy? Why after so many years you can’t just talk about the deep-rooted issues that you have inside you? Why was it so hard for you to love and want to be loved?” 

I’m standing up now, your eyes dig into my soul, and I hate how well you still fucking see me. “You think I didn’t love you? Is that what this is?” 

“You never gave me a reason to think that you ever did!” 

“I loved you!” I scream at you. “I loved you so much that’s why I left!” It’s out of my mouth so fast I don’t even have a second to breathe before I realize what I just said. My eyes are wide as I stare at yours. You look like you did when I left you, and I can’t handle this again. “This was a mistake. I’m sorry.” 

I grab my jacket and head towards the door. 

“Eddie, where are you going?” You sound so hurt, I bite my lip, feeling my own tears forming in my eyes, I look back at you. “I’m sorry.” 

And I leave, again. Because that’s all I know to do. 

I run down her steps, wiping the tears off my face and the bitter cold stings my cheeks. I start running; I let myself take me wherever, I pass the street to my condo, I catch a glimpse of the Christmas lights downtown.  And I stop running, I’m standing in front of a bar.

A spoonful of sugar makes the medicine… I did too much, I realize as I’m trying to crawl towards my hotel bed from the bathroom. I grip the blanket, awkwardly pulling myself up onto the bed. I search the bed for my phone; and I grab it with weak hands. My vision was going in and out, and I scroll down my contact list for Ted, my manager’s name. I could’ve just called 911, but why would I do that when Ted has an endless supply of Narcan in his suitcase? I should just keep a few in my own suitcase; but this usually never happens. I think I just wanted to feel less and less tonight, I don’t know why. If I die, it’s on me, I lived a good life, but I really don’t want to die, so I’ll settle for this. 

I dial Ted, he can barely hear me because my voice is so slow, and I’m nodding out. He always has a spare key card for this exact situation, he was a good manager, I hate that I have to manipulate him to save my life. 

I don’t remember losing consciousness; I just remember seeing Ted’s face above mine, and the vomit hitting the back of my throat as I throw myself off the bed. Ted pushes a trash bucket under my head as I heave out everything and anything that was in my system. I sit back on my heels, wiping my face, my head lulls forward and I force myself to keep my eyes open. 

“Jesus, kid, how much did you do?” He glances around the hotel room, sees my supply on the bathroom sink. 

“I don’t know.” I mutter, getting to my feet, my legs are shaking as I stumble into the bathroom. I find the needle I used, and glance at it; there was nothing in there. Most of it was now in the trash can and swimming through my veins. I splash cold water on my face and grip the sink in front of me. I fix my eyes on myself, my face looks gaunt, like I saw the reaper for five minutes and came back. My curls were sticking to my face, my eyes were…

My eyes looked dead.

I place my hand over my chest, not feeling the necklace underneath and I begin to panic, it wasn’t where I normally put it. Ted stares at me with his mouth wide open as I’m tearing apart the bed, going through the drawers, trying to find my necklace. I’m screaming obscenities, and when I’m about to give up, I feel the necklace in my back pocket. I plop on the floor, clenching it in my hand, I look up at Ted. “What?” 

“I think you should go to the hospital, make sure you’re fully okay.” He tells me and I glare at him. He was in his pajamas, plaid bottoms, a dark grey t shirt. His wedding ring glistens in the light, and his dark blonde hair hung in loose waves at his shoulders. He was only in his mid-fifties, but because of me, he looked thirty years older than that. I don’t know why he still wears his wedding ring; she left him months ago.  

“No hospital, I’m fine.” I mutter, looking back at the necklace in my hand. “Thank you.” 

He sighs. “You’re not fine, Eddie. Do you know how many narcans I used to bring you back just now? Four. That’s more than half of what I have.” 

“Good thing you had them then.” I say, not meeting his eyes. 

“One of these days I won’t.” He says sharply and I finally meet his eyes. 

“What does that mean?” I ask, my high still buzzing in my veins but I’m already itching for another shot. 

“It means I’m not doing this anymore.” He sighs. “You’re like a son to me, Eddie. I’m tired of watching you slowly kill yourself.” 

I laugh and shake my head. “I’m not gonna sit hear and listen to your sad story about how much you love me and how if I died it would devastate you.” 

“It would!” He yells at me. “Jesus, kid. Do you even hear yourself?” 

“Yeah, I do. How could you love someone that slowly kills themselves every day? It’s better not to.” I find a vile of cocaine in my front pocket, this will take the edge of, and I do a little bump. I sniffle back the drugs. “Trust me.” 

Ted stares hard at me and shakes his head. “Pull yourself together the next two days, we leave for Portland on Monday.” He stands up, and I don’t bother watching him leave. I hear the door shut behind him and I lean my head against the wall, breathing deeply. I put the necklace over my head and tuck it into my shirt. It’s easier to just push people away, but it’s hard because you have to see these people every day, and these people watch your every move. 

It never used to be like this; I loved my life. I loved getting on stage, singing our songs, watching the eyes of my brothers light up whenever we’d hear the roar of the crowd. It had been almost ten years of this life, and I loved every minute of it. But I still felt something was missing. I tried to fill it with sex, I tried to fill with alcohol, but nothing and I mean nothing would work. 

Then one night, we’re at a party. It was the house of one of the bands we went on tour with a few years ago, I won’t say names, but it wouldn’t surprise many people. I got introduced to heroin that night, the bass player had a stash and had been snorting it all night. Once I let it fill my airways and I vomited everywhere, I felt the most beautiful feeling in the world. I fell in love with it, but after that night I swore I would only do it during parties. That was a big lie, because then I learned how to shoot it. Whoever I was with that time, I don’t even remember, I had them do it for me because I was too scared of needles, and I didn’t want to mess up. Once the drugs filled my veins it was all fucking over for me. I was hooked. I was more than in love. It became something that I would time in my head when to take, it was my medicine. Every thought that held onto pain, guilt, grief and madness, that all fizzled away once I learned how to do that, there was no going back for me.  I’ve been shooting heroin for two years, and Gareth just found out about it. I’m a good liar, and I’m good at hiding shit. 

I get up on my feet, stumbling into the wall slightly, and I throw myself on the bed. My arm stung where I had stuck myself, I must’ve missed a vein again. I was getting sloppy, I was rushing too much, I needed to slow down. 

I hear myself chuckle. Eddie Munson, slowing down? When pigs fly. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I sit at the bar, twirling a Diet Coke in my hands, I watch the ice cube move around, my heart was still racing. I had a sponsor I could call, but it was the holidays, I didn’t want to disrupt his peace. The place was crowded, it usually is this time of year. All the college kids were home for the holidays, vacations started for most people. I knew I shouldn’t have opened that letter; I knew it would’ve opened so many doors that I wasn’t ready to walk through yet. But seeing you, it awoken something in me that I forgot about, that I have kept buried for over a decade. 

Yes, I loved you. I loved you so much that it hurt to breathe. You were there for me when my dad went to prison, you were there for me when I would cry about my mom, about certain things I would remember. She was a distant memory now, a storybook character that almost seems fictional at this point. But it hurt to love you, it made it easier to just leave because then I couldn’t get hurt.

That’s so fucked up. 

I’m fucked up. 

I’m so fucked up. 

Why the fuck can’t I just make myself be happy? 

I’m thirty-four fucking years old, I should be married with children. I should be married to you! But no, I’d rather just kill myself with dope then be a goddamn human. 

I groan into my Diet Coke, and the bartender looks at me. I ask her for another one, I needed the bubbles. I don’t want to drink, drinking was never an issue, but it became one when I’d over do it because then I’d want to do something more. 

I feel a presence behind me, and I feel my guts fall into my asshole. My old dealer. What the fuck was he doing here? 

“Fancy seeing you here.” He smiles at me, sitting down on the stool next to me. I stare at him; the words are stuck in my throat. “Oh, I live here now, if that’s what you’re wondering.” His eyes still held that dirtbag energy behind them, and he radiated egomaniac. I always hated him, but he supplied me the good shit and he made a profit off of me. When I didn’t have the money on me, he’d give me the drugs in other ways, ways that would benefit him. “You know, you were one of my best customers. Shame that’s no more.” 

I ignore him, sipping my Diet Coke. My hands begin to shake, and he notices this, smiling. He brings his mouth to my ear. “All you have to do is ask, baby boy.” 

I shiver at his words. Why was I scared? I didn’t want any. I just wanted a second's peace to my fucking self and this asshole has to come disrupt that. I turn my head to look at him and I smile at him.  “Yeah? That’s all I have to do? Well, why don’t you get up off that stool, and get the fuck out of my face?” 

He stares at me, and his eyes narrow. “Your loss, baby.” He winks at me as he walks away, and I let out out a breath that I’ve been holding in. I take my jacket off the back of my seat and throw it over my shoulders and rush out of the bar. I feel my legs buckle and I have to go down a small alley. I slide down to my butt and I feel the panic rising in my throat and the hot tears sting my eyes. I begin to hyperventilate, and I touch my pockets, seeing if I had brought my lorazepam, but of course I didn’t. He was right next to me, he had everything I wanted in his pockets, and I told him to fuck off. So, why do I feel like this? Why do I feel like I did something wrong? I groan loudly, wiping the tears from my eyes. 

“You’re okay. You’re okay.” I tell myself, quickly finding my cigarettes and lighting up. I let the smoke fill my lungs and I let out a shaky breath. I inhale deeply and slowly let out a breath. I begin to shiver; it was so cold back here. I felt like if I were to stand, I’d go back in that bar and I’d find him. I’d rather freeze to death out here then die with a needle in my arm. 

That’s funny, cause six months ago I would’ve rather have been dead with a needle in my arm, then be alive in a world without drugs. I stay here in this alley for what feels like hours, my legs were numb, my hands were freezing. My teeth were chattering, and I wouldn’t be surprised if my lips were blue. I need to move; I need to get my blood flowing again. I needed to stop feeling so fucking bad for myself and just fucking move. 

So, I get up, I stumble against the brick wall, trying to get feeling back into my limbs and I walk. I walk and walk until I see the familiar stone steps, and I keep walking until I’m inside. It was so much warmer in here. I don’t even know what fucking time it is; I knock anyway. My teeth were still chattering, and I was so, so cold. 

You open the door and your face falls when you see the sight of me. “Oh my god.” 

“I’m s-sorry. I just…” I begin to cry and you come towards me, pulling me towards the fireplace, pulling a blanket from the back of the couch, taking off my jacket, draping it over my shoulders. “I just had to walk somewhere. My-my old dealer was at the bar…I didn’t drink, I didn’t buy anything off of him, but he tempted me. And I wanted to, but I didn’t. I didn’t use.” 

Your arms rub my back and shoulders, as I still shiver. “Jesus Eddie, you’re freezing.” 

“I’m sorry I’m here, I know you don’t want me here…but I don’t think I can be alone tonight. I have no one else…I’m sorry.” I sniffle, wiping the snot from my nose. 

“Shhhhh.” You say to me, pulling my body into yours, your warmth already making me feel better as I rest my head on your chest. “I got you.” 

“I’m sorry.” I cry, gripping the back of your sweater. “I’m sorry.” 

You rock me gently, holding me tightly as I let every single feeling I have kept buried inside me flow out of me with my tears. My chest hurts as I sob, my throat felt like it was on fire, and I hold onto your waist for dear life. 

The fire feels nice against my skin, and I pull back to look at you. You stare at me with tears in your eyes; my hand goes to touch your face, my vision still slightly blurred. You shiver as my ringed fingers curl behind your hair and your fingers clench my jacket. Your mouth is on mine before I could even blink; I can taste your tears with my own and I carefully lick your lips with my tongue, and you open your mouth with no hesitation. Your hands fist my hair, and you push yourself onto my lap, kissing me with such urgency that causes me to groan against your mouth and I hold onto your hips. It was just like I remembered, how everytime your lips molded into mine I would feel a jolt of energy course through my veins. The blanket falls off my shoulders as I lean back on the floor, taking you with me. You straddle me, your hair drapes over me like a satin curtain and you roll your hips into mine. The friction causing the both of us to moan; it took that sound from the both of us to realize what we were doing, and you pull quickly away from my lips. I sit up, and you stare at me, your lips swollen, your eyes wide.

“I’m sorry.” I say quietly, running my hands over my mouth. “I don’t have to stay here.” 

“No, no it’s fine.” You shake your head, looking into my eyes, your hair a wild mess. “I don’t want you to be alone. My aunt has a spare bedroom, you can sleep there.” 

I nod at you, swallowing hard, bringing the blanket up around my shoulders, staring at my hands. “Thank you.” 

You nod, smiling softly at me and you gently pat my hand. “You didn’t cave, you’re still sober.” 

I nod. “I know.” 

You get up from the floor and help me to my feet. We stare at each other for a few moments, and you walk towards one of the closets. I watch as you take out a blanket and a pillow, you hand them to me, and I stare at your face. “I didn’t…I didn’t stop lo…” 

“The spare room is next to the bathroom.” You tell me quietly and I nod, sighing deeply, heading to the spare room. 

The room was small, but it had such a cozy feel to it, I felt like I was in a hallmark movie. The bedding was a soft quilt, there were little nick knacks on the walls, some creepy looking porcelain dolls but other than that, it was cute. The bed was comfortable too, spacious and wide. We didn’t say goodnight to each other, I think we just assumed we both went to bed. I felt my body temperature go back to normal; I took off my t shirt and my socks and shoes. I didn’t mind sleeping in my jeans. I lay on my back, staring at the ceiling; I can’t believe I kissed you. I can’t believe you kissed me back. I shouldn’t have done it; but I needed to feel something else, something warm. I don’t even know what I’m doing anymore. 

You sit on the end of your bed, running your hands through your hair, and sighing loudly. Your lips felt numb from where he kissed you, so many years of trying to forget how it felt to be kissed by him, how it felt to taste him again. It was stupid of you to think that that wouldn’t happen. It was stupid of you to kiss him when he was that vulnerable. He feels safe with you, that you know for sure. Even after all these years. He said he left because he loved you; what does that even mean, you wonder? Why was he so afraid of love? It was the two of you since you were three years old, best friends who went through everything together. First kiss together, you lost your virginity to each other, and were inseparable until he left. 

He broke you, and it wasn’t even because you were in love with him. He took your friendship, and spit on it the second he left. He took years of comfort and wiping away tears and flushed it. You had a right to be angry. 

You needed to know why. Why was it so scary to love you? Your bare feet hit the carpet on the room you’re in and you swing open your door, ready to wake him up and demand answers, but you don’t, because he’s standing right in front of you. Your hands are already pulling him towards you before he can open his mouth, and his hands were ready to catch you when you jump up and wrap both your legs around his waist, kissing him deeply. You moan against his mouth, feeling the rush of adrenaline as his ringed fingers caress your bare skin under your night shirt. His hands grip your ass as you both fall onto the bed, his tongue dances with yours, your hands fist his hair, and he lets out a broken moan when your hands rub his erection through his jeans. He holds your face, pushing himself against you, pulling away to bite your lip gently. His lips travel to your neck, you gasp when you feel his teeth nip down on the spot below your ear. You caress his shoulders, your fingers clench at his back muscles and you feel his hand travel under your shirt, cupping your full breast in his hand, pinching your nipple, getting you to moan loudly. His mouth finds yours again, still gently tugging at your nipple and grinding against your soaking pussy. He groans softly, pulling himself back to stare at your face, he traces circles down your belly, over the elastic of your underwear and pulls them down.  He doesn’t break eye contact with you as you feel his two fingers slide into your cunt and your head falls back in pleasure. His mouth falls open as he watches you, pushing his fingers deeper. 

You gasp, your back arching. “Unghh my god…Eddie.” 

“I missed this.” The tone of his voice is full of so much eroticism, you almost scream. He uses his other hand to pull up your shirt, smiling when he sees the tattoo he loves, and he lowers his head down, licking your skin, tasting every inch. You shudder beneath him as he continues to lick and suck around your naval. He spots your sternum tattoo; it sat beautifully between your breasts, peaking out above your cleavage and ending at the natural curve of your breasts. He pulls your shirt over your head with one hand, thrusting his fingers in and out of you still with the other. His big brown eyes meet yours, and he licks a stripe all the way up from your naval, in between your breasts and takes your nipple in his mouth, sucking hard. A loud moan escapes you, and you can’t help but rock your hips with the movement of his fingers. He removes his fingers, leaning up to kiss you passionately. And he turns you over with one swift motion, getting you on your knees. Your face is smushed against the pillow and you gasp, feeling his tongue lap at your hole, before sucking on your clit. He eats you out from behind, his mouth devoured you like you were a midnight snack, and his fingers glide back into you. You grip the bed sheet under you, groaning loudly as his tongue swirls around your clit, sucking and biting gently. 

“Mmmmm unnnnnghh, Eddie.” You gasp and you hear his moan vibrate against your cunt. 

“Tastes just like how I remember.” He coos against you. “So sweet.” 

You cry out when he finger fucks the life out of you, his delicate fingers hitting that perfect spot and you feel the build up in your lower belly as your orgasm approaches. 

He flicks out his tongue, rolling it around the little nub of nerves and whimpers, feeling you clench around his fingers. “Come on, sweetheart. I know you’ve been waiting for this, cum for me. Mmmm that’s it baby, fuuuck, there you go, come on.”  

The sound of his voice is so hot, it sends you into a fucking whirlwind and you’re cumming hard all over his fingers. He gently kisses your ass cheek, slowly pumping in and out of you as you scream out the rest of your orgasm. Your entire body shaking, convulsing, and you didn’t want it to end. You roll to your back, your chest heaving, and you sit up, pulling his mouth towards yours, pushing your tongue in his mouth, tasting the sweetness of you and he grips your thigh tightly. Your hands unbuckle his jeans and pull them off, of course he was going commando, you thought. You grip his hard cock in your hand and pump your fist down it and he moans against your mouth. His curly hair tickles your chin as he buries his face in the crook of your neck as you pump him faster, slapping the tip of his cock on your clit. He whimpers, his moans echo against your skin and you line him up against your opening. You felt fucking filthy, but you wanted him, craved him. 

He pulls back to look at your face, gently moving your hair out of your face, running his thumb along your lower lip. 

“Are you sure?” He whispers to you, gently moving his lips against yours. You nod, cupping his face in your hand. 

“I wanna feel you.” You whisper to him. “I wanna feel all of you.” 

His eyes dart from your eyes to your mouth, he kisses you softly and you both moan as he pushes himself inside you easily; you were so wet. You hold onto his waist as he leans up on his palms, thrusting himself into you, his eyes flutter close, and he grunts loudly. He grips your thigh painfully, hooking your leg around his waist, moving faster. You cry out, your nails scraping down his back as he rolls his hips, his breath hot against your throat. You feel him tremble above you, and he whimpers. You pull his face towards yours, staring into his eyes as he continues his rhythm. 

“Ugggunngh fuck sweetheart.” He moans, pushing his mouth against yours, kissing you hungrily. Your mouth opens his in a loud moan, that sends him in into a whirlwind and he slams into you harder. 

“Ooohhh…oh…unghhh…Eddie…”

“Scream for me, sweetheart. Unnnnngh, I wanna hear you scream.” His mouth falls open in pleasure, his movements slowing down and you clench around him, holding onto his shoulders for dear life as you orgasm, screaming out his name, your sounds were music to his ears and he holds your waist, riding the orgasm with you when he feels his reach the surface and he’s moaning so loud, you swore you had awoken a beast within him as he cums inside you, a warmth settling in between your legs as he slows his thrusts, swallowing hard as he rests his head against your chest. 

You both lay there catching your breath, not saying a word to each other. He lifts his face up to yours, gently caressing your face, and kissing you sweetly. 

The sun was bright as I open my eyes in a squint. Was that the sun? My eyes adjust and I try to see out the window from where I lay; it has snowed, was still actively snowing and the sun was trying to make its way through the clouds. I feel your warmth next to me and I turn to you, your back is to me, your hair drapes over your back and onto your face. I trace the outline of your arm with my finger, going over the curve of your waist, your hips. I lean forward and kiss your shoulder gently, your neck. You stir, groaning pleasantly as you turn towards me, your eyes still closed, and you bury your face into my chest, your hands were cool against my waist and I shudder, laughing a little. 

“Morning.” I whisper to you, gently moving your hair out of your face. 

“Mmm.” You mumble. “Did you sleep okay?” Your voice is hoarse, and I kiss the top of your head. 

“Like a baby.” I tell you, wrapping my arms around your waist. Last night was the most comfortable I had slept in months, and I didn’t remember my nightmares, which was a first. 

“I can make us breakfast.” You say, opening your eyes, squinting at the bright light. “I need eggs.” 

“Uhh, I don’t think we’re going anywhere anytime soon.” I laugh and you sit up, scooting yourself off the bed. I watch as you go to the window and peak out, laughing to myself at how little you cared that strangers could potentially see your naked body. 

“Holy shit. That’s a lot of snow.” You laugh, turning to me. “I don’t think the plows have come down; I can’t even drive you home.” 

“I’m in no rush to go anywhere.” I tell you sweetly, putting my arm behind my head. You smile at me, blushing when you realize you’re naked and you pull a blanket over your shoulders. I sit up; gently reaching towards you and grip your waist. You lean down and kiss my forehead, enveloping me in the blanket. I kiss the spot above your belly button and look up at you. “I appreciate you having me stay…not that I’m your responsibility but, thank you.”

Your fingers curl through my hair, sighing as you stare at me. “I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I didn’t and something happened. Even being so angry at you, I can’t stomach it.” 

I gently caress your sides, staring deep into your eyes. “I owe you an apology. A big one.” You place your hands gently on my shoulders, waiting for me to continue. “I’ve been fucked up for a long time. Even before the drugs. The drugs were just an escape from how dark I was feeling on the inside. I felt like nothing could make me happy…except you. You were this big bright light in my life, my whole life, and I…” I sigh, my throat aches as I swallow back tears. “I was afraid that if I allowed that happiness into my life, it would be taken away from me like everything else. That you would see who I truly was on the inside and would hate me for it. So, I took the easy way out, I thought I was saving you years of regret and dealing with my bull shit but when in reality, it was like I pulled the trigger of a gun and blew my own head off. Because leaving you was one of the stupidest things I could’ve done. And I promise, if you let me, I will spend the rest of my life doing everything I can to show you how sorry I am. I never stopped loving you. I have been so close to death this last year more times than I can count, and I think the universe only brought me back because of you. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to continue to teeter on life and death anymore and I never thought those words would come out of me.” 

A tear falls down your cheek, but you smile, and I wipe it away, cupping your face. “I love you. I love you so much it fucking hurts, but I need to let it in. I need to feel it, because if I don’t, I’m just another foot deeper in the grave.” 

You sniffle back tears, gently running your thumb over my lips, my hair. “I love you too. I never stopped either, as much as I wanted to.” 

I kiss the spot between your breasts and meet your eyes. “You can tell me to fuck off, and I’ll leave because I’ll feel better knowing that at least you knew that I did love you and I still love you.” 

Both of your hands grip my face, and you smile, shaking your head. “I will probably still tell you to fuck off, because it’s us and even fifteen years later I’m pretty sure you still know how to get under my skin.” We both laugh. “But I’m never letting you go again. That’s a promise.” 

My hand goes up to touch your face, my other hand grips the spot under your breast, and you lean down, gently pressing your lips to mine. I hold your face, opening your mouth with mine, tasting you. I move my lips to your tummy, gently kissing your skin. You shudder softly and I move my hands to your thighs, my eyes fix on yours as I kiss above your naval. I graze the tips of my fingers along your clit and your head falls back, the blanket falls from your shoulders. I palm you gently and a soft moan escapes you. 

“Not…fair…” you breathe out. “It’s your turn.” You say to me, and you press your lips to mine hungrily. I wrap my arms around your waist and groan when your hand goes to my cock, rubbing it gently. I get hard immediately, and you pull away from me. You give me a smirk and kneel in front of me. I lean back on my palms, watching you. As soon as I feel your mouth touch my tip, my head falls back, and a loud groan escapes me. You move your tongue along my shaft, taking me into your mouth, cupping my balls. 

“Unnnnghhh, fuck. Oh my…unnngn.” I groan out, gripping onto your hair; your moan vibrates my cock and I tremble. I whimper like a fucking dog, it feels so good; I haven’t felt anything like this in so long, it feels almost foreign to me. Your tongue swirls around my tip, and you suck, your mouth coming off my cock with a pop. I groan again, I make myself look at you, and watch as you take my cock so beautifully. You stare up at me with those eyes, those fucking eyes. The ones that see right through me, the ones that see me, the ones that are so filled with desire I try my best not to explode in your mouth. You open your mouth wider, slapping my cock against your tongue, a choked moan escapes me that I can’t even control. A heavy breath escapes me, and my eyes flutter close. I feel my orgasm building in my belly; I feel my abdominal muscles clench as you continue to torment me with your mouth. A smile graces my lips and I gasp. “Ohhh, ohhh fuck…mmmmohhh my god, sweetheart. I’m gonna cum…I…”Something wild growls out of me, and my whole body convulses, and I’m almost yelling. I cum so hard I swear I can see stars; you’re still sucking me off, swallowing me whole. I fall back against the bed, my chest heaving, my vision blurred, and a laugh full of pure joy escapes me. You crawl your way up to my face and I open my eyes slowly to look at you. You’re smiling that beautiful smile, your lips are swollen, your chin is covered in saliva and parts of me. I hold your face in my hand, feeling drunk, feeling fucking high and I kiss you, tasting myself, tasting you as our tongues fight for dominance. I’m getting hard again, and all I want is to be inside you; I want to feel every inch of your walls, I want to squeeze that beautiful ass of yours as you ride me.  It was like you read my mind, because you lower yourself so delicately until I’m fully inside you, feeling every beautiful inch of you. A sweet, soft moan escapes your lungs, and you lean back, staring in my eyes as you roll your hips against my pelvis. I grip your ass, rocking you against me faster, pushing myself into you. Our noises are a collective harmony of beautiful breaths and moans, I watch as your beautiful breasts bounce as you rock me so fast. I take one in my hand, pinching your nipple and groaning, feeling like I was in a fucking porno. I watch you move; how beautiful you look, how I’m pretty sure you were carved out of stardust in the fucking heavens and brought down to Earth; I couldn’t believe you were real. 

Six months ago, I was in a jail cell, bleeding from my nose, my mouth, my hands, detoxing from heroin, after overdosing for the third time, waiting for death because my life was over. And somehow, after all that, I made it back to you. 

Go down, medicine, go down… I don’t even know where I am right now; is it my hotel room? Or someone else’s? There are only a few soft lights coming from the room, I can hear someone else breathing, but I can’t see them. We had just finished the Portland show, but I don’t even remember it ending. I’m sitting on the floor; just staring off into space. I feel clammy, my hair is sticking to me, and my arm is stinging. I move my head to the side. It feels heavier than normal. There’s a rubber tourniquet wrapped tightly around my arm, and the needle is just resting against my forearm. I wince, pulling it out of my skin and undoing the tourniquet. It takes me a few tries to get to my feet, I use the wall as support to lift my body up. I’m still in my clothes, so I didn’t fuck anybody I don’t think. I hear muffled voices coming from outside the door, I think I’m in a bedroom. I pull my phone out of my pocket and turn the flashlight on. There’s a woman on the bed, passed out, she was fully naked, lying next to a glass mirror of white powder. I shine my light to her face; her eyelids squeeze just a little and I breathe a sigh of relief when I see that she’s still breathing. I pull the blanket over her shoulders to protect her modesty, so sweet right?? I scoff at myself. Nope, still an asshole.  I open the door to the bedroom and squint from the bright overhead light. No one even notices me walk through, there were tons of people in this one little loft apartment. An eclectic group of people; goths, metalheads, nerds, Abercrombie chicks and dudes, LGBTQ+, junkies, druggies, ravers. 

Where the fuck was I? 

I find an unopened beer and pop the cap off with my teeth, chugging the whole thing, stumbling awkwardly and dropping the empty bottle in the lap of a couple making out on the couch. I’m able to find the door to leave, and I feel blessed when the sudden quiet envelopes me like a blanket. My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I answer it without even looking to see who it is.

“Yeah?” I mumble. 

“Dude, where the fuck are you?” It was Jeff.

“Honestly, man. I have no fucking idea.” I wince when I bend my left arm. Damn, I really fucked myself up tonight. 

“Ted’s losing his mind, he thinks you’re dead in a ditch somewhere. What do you want me to tell him?” He sounds a little drunk himself, and I want to roll my eyes, Ted needs to stop worrying. 

“Nothing, I’ll call him.” I say, my head lulling to the wall behind me. Fuck I feel good. I hang up the phone and scroll until I find Ted’s name. 

“Jesus Christ, Eddie! You’ve been missing for three fucking hours!” Ted yells into the phone, and I feel a little bad hearing the worry in his voice. “Where the hell are you?” 

“I don’t know, some fucking house party.” I make my way down the stairs to the outside; it was fucking freezing out. I feel snot hit the back of my throat and I force myself to hawk a giant spit ball out of my lungs. I look up and down the street, I’m in some quiet neighborhood. “I’m in Portland somewhere.” 

“No shit, Sherlock.” He sighs and I swear I hear his eyes roll to the back of his head. “Send me your location, I’ll come get you.” 

I hang up and text him my location, I sit on the sidewalk. I feel fucked up again; my head lulls between my legs and I gasp awake and find a cigarette in my pocket. I light it up, letting the smoke fill my lungs and I’m nodding out again. A loud honk of the car horn snaps me awake and I squint at the headlights in front of me. 

“Prick.” I mutter, awkwardly getting to my feet as I see Ted’s silhouette come out the driver's seat. He looks pissed, and I can’t help but smile. 

“Get in the car, fucking dickhead.” He says, inhaling deeply on his cigarette. 

“Whoa, daddy’s mad.” I say, stumbling backwards and collect myself, opening his driver side door. I slip into the seat and shut the door. Ted comes in, slams the door and I feel his hand slap me hard on the back of the head. “Ow! Jesus, what the fuck was that for?!” 

“For being a fucking moron.” He speeds away from the sidewalk, and flies down the side street, following directions to the highway. I rub the back of my head, lighting up a cigarette. 

“You didn’t have to pick me up.” I say to him. 

“Of course, I did. Eddie, it’s negative zero outside, you’re high out of your mind. You think I’m gonna leave you stranded?” He says, quietly. 

“You should’ve. Would’ve saved you the grief.” I mutter. 

“Do you want to die, Eddie?” He almost yells at me. “Is that what you want?” 

I stare at the side of his face; his jaw was clenched, and I swear I see tears in his eyes. “No. I don’t want to die.” 

“You sure about that?” 

“I don’t want to die, Ted! I just want to fucking live in peace.” I yell at him, flicking my cigarette out the window. 

“What about us?!” He shouts, turning left and my shoulder hits the door panel. “What about your fucking family who loves you!? Do you think we want to continue watching you kill yourself?”

“So don’t!” I scream back at him. “Leave! Like everyone else in my life! What the fuck is stopping you?!" 

He peels into the parking lot of the Holiday Inn where we were staying and puts the car in park. His hands are gripping the steering wheel in a white-knuckle grip. I see tears pour from his eyes and I have to look away from him. I feel a sharp pain in my chest; I need another shot; I need it to get rid of this fucking pain. I pat myself down, looking for a needle, or more drugs, I had to have some, there’s no way I did it all.

“What are you doing?” He asks me.

I begin to panic, digging into my pockets, trying to find something, anything. “I can’t sit in here with you when you’re like this, I can’t look at you and hear your fucking worries and see your tears, I’m gonna fucking lose my mind.” 

I find a needle hidden deep in my jacket pocket, a new one, still capped, and I find the drugs in a baggy next to it. 

“No.” Ted says, grabbing my wrists, pulling the needle out of my hand and my drugs, I try to wrestle with him, but I’m way too fucked up and too weak to try. “You are not shooting up right next to me! Are you out of your fucking mind?!”

I can feel the rage in my veins, my eyes are wide, and I can feel myself trembling. “Give it back to me.” 

“No.” He places everything in his pockets. 

“Teddy, I swear to fucking god I will break your fucking nose, give it back to me!” I yell at him; my fists clenching, my chest heaving. This man was like a fucking father to me, and I was ready to throw hands with him.

He laughs and I wanna scream. “Do you hear yourself?” 

“Shut up.” I cover my ears, closing my eyes. “Shut up, shut up. Just give me the drugs.” 

I hear him flip the visor down, and flip open the mirror. 

His hand grips my chin. “Look at yourself!” He yells at me and I keep my eyes shut, feeling tears pool from my eyes as an angry sob escapes me. His grip gets tighter on my chin and I grit my teeth, my hand digging into his thigh, trying to push him away from me. “LOOK AT YOURSELF!” He yells louder and my eyes snap open, gazing into the mirror. The man staring back at me has a wild stare, his brown eyes held no life in them, he was pale, sweaty, his face was gaunt. He was a beast with no name, a monster hidden beneath the face of an angel. 

I shake my head, closing my eyes again, and groan. “No. No. Let go of me. Let me go!” I’m able to shove him away from me, and I quickly wipe the tears from my face. “I’ll stop man, just give me my drugs.” 

“You’ll stop?” He stares at me incredulous; I know I look pathetic in his eyes. “I don’t believe you.” 

“I’ll fucking stop! Just let me do this, please. Please. It’s starting to hurt.” I groan, hot tears still pooling from my eyes. 

“Good.” He sneers at me, getting out of the car, slamming the door shut, walking away from me. I sit in the passenger seat and start punching the dashboard.

“Fuck you! Fuck you, you fucking piece of shit!” I yell, my legs feeling like jello, my heart pounding. I push myself out of the car and fall to my knees, screaming like a mad man. 

I was a monster. 

[daniwib]

Season 8 speculation

Here’s my own speculation on what is going to happen in s8 based partly on wishful thinking but also because TM likes to do the unexpected while also calling back to earlier episodes:-

Chim and Hen both get transferred out to different stations. Chim possibly to the academy as a trainer instead of a regular station. Either way, they’re not at the 118 anymore under Gerrard. The fandom is so focused on what their lives are going to be like working under Gerrard again that I think TM is going to flip things on us and they’re not going to be working under him at all. They’ve both already done that before and they’re both much stronger, wiser and more mature now. They won’t take his shit and so we won’t see it. It’ll be more dramatic to take them out of the equation completely and split the 118 up.

Eddie is in a dark place because Chris is still living in Texas. He’s aware things are not great with Gerrard but he’s not focused on it, he’s just trying to keep his head above water in his personal life. Call back to Tommy saying he didn’t like who he was working under Gerrard – Eddie cannot handle anything else, so he falls into his old military mindset and toes the line at work. Does whatever Gerrard says, doesn’t talk back etc etc. Inadvertently becomes Gerrard’s golden boy because of it though he barely even notices. I’d love for that to cause issues between him and Buck but I think their relationship is too strong for that. But then TM has surprised us all before so who knows.

It takes a while before Gerrard realizes that Buck is dating Tommy but once he does, he starts making Buck’s life hell at work in the small ways he did back in the day with Hen and Chim. Who aren’t there to support Buck, and Eddie doesn’t seem to notice, and so Buck flounders. He’s never experienced constant, relentless homophobia like that before. How would he react? Does he try to hide who he is like Tommy did while working under Gerrard, or does he instead flaunt it? Does it wear him down and make him withdraw into himself? Or do we finally see some real growth for his character and see him standing up for himself without any support from his coworkers? (I’m assuming Tommy is supporting him bts but perhaps not against Gerrard personally. Tommy has his own past demons about the man to deal with).

Call back to 3x16 when Buck says “Yeah, like if Bobby retired. [sic] You know, or one of us got moved to another house, we would still all stay in touch” and Buck’s seeking reassurance that that won’t happen to them. Which they don’t actually give him, btw. Fast forward to the end of s7 and what’s Bobby done? Retired. Sure, he changed his mind and wants to come back but as of now in canon he is retired. So, I’m waiting to see some or all of them transferred to other houses and the 118 be completely separated either physically or in Eddie’s case mentally if he stays working in the same house as Buck.

They did it in Lonestar already and we know the shows have echoed themes before (whumpable chaos coma besties TK & Buck anyone?). The drama potential of it happening to the 118 is enticing. It would affect all of them in different ways and who knows we might even get that Buck breakdown we’ve been wanting for years. There are so many ways all of their storylines could go before we finally get that sweet sweet resolution and see Gerrard get the karmic slap he has to have coming – because that’s something else that 911 loves, dispensing karma to those who deserve it.

I haven’t even mentioned the whole Bathena being homeless or HenRen losing Mara storylines, but I know those will come into play again in s8 and I am excited to see where things go with them, too.

I also really hope that Gerrard was the arsonist and that we get more of the 118 losing their homes to arson (cough cough Buck’s loft) and perhaps even the station itself. Far fetched? Possibly. We’ve had more insane things happen on this show, though.

I’ve deliberately not speculated on the BuckTommy or Buddie of it all because quite frankly I’m tired of the shipwar. I’m content to wait and see where TM goes with that. What I’m excited for is to see how the dynamics of Gerrard and every member of the 118 play out during s8.

[emilybahu]

“I don’t want to break down the door Buck, I want him to open it!”

Good God this line! Oh it hurts, Eddie doesn’t want Chris to shut people out like he did.

I feel like it’s almost a parallel to when Eddie had his breakdown in season 5. He kept closing doors in his mind about his trauma, bottling up his emotions until they exploded behind a locked door. Buck had to break down the door to help Eddie, also effectively breaking down the door in his mind that wasn’t allowing him to share how he felt.

Eddie doesn’t want to have to break down Chris’ door physically, or mentally for that matter. He doesn’t want his son to bottle things up inside, he wants that door to stay open. He wants Chris to be open about how he feels.

I have the feeling though that the door will be closed for Eddie for a while. I do hope they’ll be able to repair the relationship though. Chris is Eddie’s whole world, “his soul”, he NEEDS his son!

God this episode is gonna kill me…😭

[blazinghotfoggynights]

Can I get my 911 with a double side of drama and a pitcher of messiness?

I love it when fictional characters are being scandalous or whumped. It's okay to have no morals or limits in fiction.

Spice up the entertainment. Make it hurt so good! Bring the mess!

There. I said it.

That was liberating. Anywho.

In one of my perfect 'verses, the remainder of season 7 would be Eddie getting fully involved with Shannon 2.0, who has no idea he is with Marisol, Eddie being caught in bed with his side piece by Marisol, who tells the whole 118 Eddie is a cheating scumbag, and then a reveal that the woman doesn't even look like Shannon.

The season would end with some type of major emotional trauma pushing Eddie and Buck both over the edge. I need Eddie Diaz to be in a mental breakdown. Not a minor one, I mean a life-altering, mind-shattering, reality-altering breakdown.

Seeing Eddie suffering triggers something in Buck and it sets him on a path filled with confusion, because he doesn't understand why he is hurting so much watching Eddie suffer.

Season 8 could follow Eddie through his mental health, and possible physical health, journey, Buck through the difficulties of balancing being there for the Diazes with the demands of work and his boyfriend, and how the whole 118 rallies to support one of their own while thoroughly calling him out for his actions.

I want to see fighting the truth, slowly rising from denial, jealousy, resentment, anguish. Give it to me! You could have Eddie trying to ignore something he has known most of his life, Buck unsure of where to focus his attention, Tommy demanding Buck be more present and if that means cutting down on his time with Eddie and Christopher, so be it.

Just those three things would be fuel for a whole season of five alarm fire! There could be opportunities for numerous confrontations and conversations between characters who have historically had little to no interaction. There could be fighting, breakups, makeups, bad choices, regrets, etc.

Then, at the end, there is a final showdown. That could be huge and inclusive of all the main characters and many of the recurring. There could be secrets revealed, ugly crying with lots of loud sobs and snot, ultimatums, begging, and so much more.

Realistically, if the show got a season 9, the arcs could be stretched into that season.

I am a Buddie endgame girl; however, I'd love to see Eddie and Buck explore their true selves independently of each other initially. I'd like to see the BuckTommy relationship evolution as more than a stepping stone. I just hope for, and prefer, Buddie endgame.

I am saying this as a staunch Buddie girl over the past six years: If Buddie happens, it should not happen now. Eddie Diaz is too messed up right now to be with anyone. His actions are going to cause trouble and whoever is in the blast radius when his BS blows up will get burned.

Say it with me:

Characters can have other relationships then eventually get together. BuckTommy and Buddie can coexist, PEACEFULLY, within the same fictional show. Wank makes fandom sad.

(I felt I should add that after completing this post, it somehow turned into the outline for a new fic. Can very long sighs cause harm to your lungs, because right now...)

[bellafarella]

Some thoughts on this new storyline with Eddie (spoilers for 7.07):

I think that an impending mental breakdown is in store for Eddie. We know that eventually he and Marisol will breakup since he has not stop fantasizing about his dead wife Shannon and they have absolutely zero chemistry, he’s already made multiple comments about leaving this woman. And the fact that he’s apparently going to start getting to know a woman who looks like said dead wife.

Eddie has not processed losing his wife in the years that she died. He says that he loved being married to her but everything we saw of their marriage was awful. He even said he only married her because of the church. They both left each other during hard times, they fought a lot, and when she returned she asked for a divorce before she ended up dying.

Eddie is romanticizing his life with Shannon because he has not processed her death and definitely feels guilty. He feels guilty for leaving her for the army, he feels guilty that they fought a lot. He feels guilty that since she died he has not been able to find a stable and good relationship—a new mother for Chris—which is what I think we will see him finally realize before the end of this season, and I’m hoping it comes from Chris telling him that he had a mom and doesn’t need another one.

This whole storyline of him about to cheat with a woman who looks like his dead wife is completely fucking unhinged and that’s all I need to know to tell me that Eddie’s life is about to implode. He cannot bring this woman around christopher without completely triggering and traumatizing him, he cannot tell people he’s cheating on his girlfriend with his dead wife’s doppelgänger.

I think that with these interviews Ryan had where he’s said that Eddie has not moved on from Shannon and he’s going to be feeling isolated and that Eddie will be starting this new lifestyle by the end of the season. I see this as Eddie having a full on mental breakdown (similar to s5 in his bedroom) which will lead to him realizing he needs to let Shannon go and this idealized/romanticized version of their marriage go because none of it is accurate, it’s all delusion and imagination. This in turn could possibly lead to him figuring out who he is (“a new lifestyle and discovering uncharted waters”) aka gay awakening (and feelings realization for Buck especially if they still go the route of injuring one of them like in s4 to help them discover their feelings for one another) then because Ryan said Eddie will isolate himself I believe that if he realizes his feelings for Buck he would isolate himself from Buck—and everyone else —(divorce era 2.0) because he won’t know what to do with it.

This entire unhinged storyline is a win in my eyes to further the gay agenda for Eddie and buddie canon.

We know that s8 will have more episodes so more room to play with where they can really show us Eddie’s arc and how buddie will become canon.

It looks to me that the rest of s7 will focus heavily on Bobby as well as Eddie, and we know that the main thing connecting these two is their religion. I don’t think it’s coincidental to have the latter half of this season focused on them.

There was also the comment about it smelling like smoke in Buck’s apartment and if they actually do what I think they might (burn Bucks loft) then it’s possible that maybe Buck gets injured again by the end of the season and it really makes Eddie realize his feelings for him which could make for quite a cliffhanger before the next season begins.