#El Paso Home Cleaning

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[burnthatbridge]

8x01 misery missing scene

post the sad zoom birthday party also on ao3 if you prefer

They stick around long enough to help clear up. 

The party decorations come down faster than they went up. Each balloon that Buck pops is a perfect mirror to the ball of excitement in his chest that had shattered at Chris’ lacklustre response, at the stuttering video connection. Except, instead of slippery, soft rubber, the shards it left behind are hard, cutting glass. 

“The cake was excellent,” Tommy offers, with forced cheer, into the silence that descends once the sound of balloons bursting and streamers rustling stops. 

“Take the rest with you,” Eddie says, turning away, heading into the kitchen.

Buck follows him, Tommy close behind, and watches Eddie shove the happy birthday banner into the trash, the party hats too. Buck bites his lip on the protest that Eddie should keep them for next year — he doesn’t think he can bear to hear Eddie voice the fear that they might have as little use for them then as they did today. 

“You’re serious about the cake?” Tommy asks, crossing to where it sits on the kitchen table, one solitary slice consumed. Buck had a bite of Tommy’s, and it was good, but he didn’t feel like having his own. And Eddie hadn’t seemed up to stomaching any at all. 

“Yep,” Eddie nods, without looking over. “I don’t want it.” 

Buck pulls a large tupperware container from the cupboard, hands it over to Tommy, who boxes up the cake. But Buck also takes down a smaller container, saves a single slice, and tucks it away in the fridge. He knows Eddie will crave it later — maybe not tonight, but certainly by tomorrow morning — and will wish he hadn’t given it all away. It will be a nice surprise for him — a much needed one — to find that Buck didn’t let him. 

Buck walks the knife used to cut the cake to the sink and Eddie steps in to wash it. Buck hovers at his side, taskless. They had been going to stick around after surprising Chris, have a couple of beers, watch something, but, with how things went, it’s clear that’s not going to happen. 

“Eddie,” Buck starts, wants to ask if he’s okay — knows he’s not — but Eddie cuts him off. 

“Thanks for coming,” he says, clearly a dismissal, bidding them goodnight without looking up for scrubbing at a knife that must be long clean. 

Tommy replies, “Thank you for inviting us,” even though technically only he was; Buck — never a guest in Eddie’s home — more co-host than attendee, had helped to plan the party, and his presence was assumed, certain. 

At the same time, Buck says, “Of course.” He wouldn’t have been anywhere else today, on Chris’ birthday. Not unless flying to Texas to actually see him would have been an option. Hell, if Eddie had wanted to drive over to El Paso to visit, Buck would have gladly played chauffeur for the whole twelve hour drive. 

Tommy drops a reassuring hand onto the stiff surface that is Eddie’s shoulder, pats it, once, twice, three times, to no noticeable softening. “See you later, man.” He moves to the kitchen door, pauses, looking back at Buck. 

Buck takes a tentative step in Tommy’s direction, says, “See you tomorrow, Eds?” It’s supposed to be a statement, like Tommy’s. A stronger one, even, since Buck and Eddie have a shift together the next day, so their seeing each other should be a concrete occurrence, not a vague likelihood. But the words come out sounding more like a question and he doesn’t follow Tommy out of the room until he sees Eddie nod in answer, agreement. 

They only make it as far as the front door before the gnawing concern in Buck’s gut is too much.  

“Wait,” Buck says as Tommy turns the handle.

Tommy stops, door cracked open an inch, but not opening it any wider, and twists to face Buck, looks at him, expectant. 

“I think–” Buck starts, but he doesn’t quite know what he thinks, only that he shouldn’t be leaving now. Even though there’s nothing left to do: all traces of the party stripped away, their evening plans abandoned. Still, he shouldn’t be leaving. Shouldn’t be leaving Eddie. Not like this.

And he should tell Tommy that, explain it to him. Except… He probably doesn’t need to. Tommy knows him, knows Eddie, and he saw firsthand how things went down tonight. So Buck simply asks, “Can I make my own way? Catch you later?”

“Sure, babe.” Tommy’s expression is full of understanding, eyes soft. He tilts his head, slightly. “I’ll wait up for you?”

Buck nods. “Yeah, please.” He leans in, putting his mouth to Tommy’s mouth, pressing goodbye and gratitude into the kiss. 

Tommy pulls back, graces Buck with a small curling of his lips, the smile dimmer than his usual given how the evening has played out, and then he’s over the threshold, toting the tupperware filled to the brim with uncelebrated birthday cake with him. 

Buck closes the door behind him, gently, then pads back through the house. 

Eddie is in the kitchen, but not quite how Buck left him. He’s still facing away, but now, instead of washing the same spot on the blade of the cake knife over and over, he has his hands braced on the edge of the counter, his head hanging down, like the effort of keeping it up has become too much.

He’s got to know Buck hasn’t left, must hear him reentering the room, a single set of footsteps, but he doesn’t acknowledge him in any way. 

Buck goes to him. Stands at Eddie’s side, tries to see his expression in his dim reflection in the window, but it’s tricky with Eddie’s face lowered. “Eddie,” Buck says and is finally rewarded with Eddie looking up, raising his head so that his eyes meet Buck’s in the window.

The agony in his gaze is palpable.

Buck doesn’t know how to help. He saw how little comfort Eddie took from Tommy’s touch, so it seems pointless to try the same. But his hands itch to hold, to smooth over Eddie and check for points of pain, even though he knows his hurt is of the heart, not body. Knows it, because his own is the same. Buck hurts too: for Chris, for Eddie, for himself. 

“Eddie,” Buck repeats, with no destination in mind except a route out of Eddie’s misery. But, if anything, the anguish displayed plainly on Eddie’s face only deepens. He squeezes his eyes shut and his hands fist, fingers curling in so tight his knuckles whiten. 

“I’m losing him,” Eddie says. 

“You’re not,” Buck answers back, automatic, but no less insistent for it. Eddie isn’t losing Chris. He can’t be losing him. They can’t be losing him. 

“I am,” Eddie pushes back, lifting his hands from the counter to gesture wildly, grief uncontainable. “I’m losing him and it’s all my fault.”

“No.” Buck catches Eddie’s wrists, squeezes them, tries to press his belief, his faith, in Chris and Eddie’s relationship into Eddie’s skin, to transfer it to him. “You made a mistake, but he’s going to forgive you. He just needs a little more time.“

“I don’t think I can take any more time without him,” Eddie confesses, and there are tears shining in his eyes. 

Buck drops his hold on Eddie’s arms, but only so he can wind his own around him, tug him into an embrace.

Eddie lets him, tucks his face into Buck’s neck, chokes out, “I just want him to come home.”

“I know,” Buck murmurs, smoothing one hand down the line of Eddie’s spine, his other arm wrapped firmly round his shoulders. “I know. I do too.”

“He loves his grandparents,” Eddie goes on, voice muffled in Buck’s shirt collar. “He could decide to just stay with them.”

“He loves you,” Buck states, an irrefutable fact. This he knows: he has been privileged to witness so much of the love Christopher has for his dad. “He’s not going to stay with them forever.”

“But,” Eddie protests, sounding lost and unsure, his fingers wound in the fabric of Buck’s shirt, his breath damp against Buck skin, “You love your parents. That doesn’t make them good ones. Ones you’d want to be with if you had a better option.”

“You are nothing like my parents.” Buck squeezes Eddie tighter to him, in tune with the ferocity of his words. “You– you are the best father I have ever seen. You love Chris so, so much. And– and he knows you do, he doesn’t have to doubt it.” Not like Buck did, every day of his life.

He continues, “Your mom and dad are not the better option for him. Sure, he’s having a nice summer with them. But, even if he’s still upset right now, I know he’s missing you too. He’s going to come home, because he belongs here, with you.” Of that Buck is sure. It’s Chris and Eddie: their bond is too deep, their relationship too strong, to be broken. 

“But,” Eddie says again, “But what if he–”

“No,” Buck stops him, not willing to let Eddie hurt himself with his thoughts, his fears, more than he already has. “Chris loves you, Eddie. And he’s going to come home to you. He is.”

Buck doesn’t know if Eddie fully believes him, but his words are enough that Eddie slumps completely against him in something like relief. And all his stress and hurt over being separated from his son comes pouring out.

As he sobs, the spasming of his chest heaving against Buck’s and the trickle of his tears sliding down Buck’s skin, Buck holds him. Holds him and presses his lips to his temple and thinks please, Chris, please come home soon. Come home to us. 

[caesium-55]

—seven days. [ ii ]

pairing: max verstappen x manager! reader.

summary: as the third time world champion, max verstappen's manager, you function on the belief that whatever max verstappen wanted, max verstappen shall get. but this time, after four years of working as his manager, you can't give him what he wants anymore and that was to stay.

author's note: not beta-read. not edited. here's part 2 folks. part 3 is on the works now. did i write this fic instead of studying for my important quiz tomorrow? yes, yes i did. pls pray for my score.

masterlist.

For Christmas in 2019, Max has gotten you an apartment near his in Monaco. It is a loft apartment good for one on the 8th floor, a building away from where Daniel and Max lived. Originally, he wants to get you the unit a floor below his. You decline quickly, insisting that you are very fine with rooming with Julia and Kendall, who are both members of the Red Bull PR team whom you have gotten close with since your first year working with Red Bull. Max may have beef with the PR team for making him do a lot of embarrassing shit for the views but you're besties with most of them and actually thank them for making Max suffer through PR stuff because you cannot afford therapy and watching Max suffer through PR-related activities is a good form of free therapy. Also, Monaco apartments are fucking expensive. Red Bull might be paying you well but not well enough to afford an apartment in a country as expensive as Monaco.

“I want you close,” he tells you. If you did not know any better, you'd have butterflies fluttering in your intestines right about that moment. Sometimes, Max utter the most heart-fluttering of nonsense without meaning to. It causes your heart to stutter more times than you would like to admit.

“Well, I don't want you close.”

Max will never ever win an argument with you. He knows that. You know that. The best he can do is come to a compromise, a compromise that is usually tailored to suit whatever you want.

So you got that small loft apartment a building away, good for one person only. It's easy to clean and it's cheap, Max already said that, which makes you happy because you can set a payment plan for that. An apartment as a Christmas gift is already too much, borderline giving you a heart attack already. Rich people spending their money give you, a person of the middle class folks, heart attacks. Why can't Max be normal and give you a normal gift? A bracelet? A bag? You’ll even accept it if he gave you a slice of cheesecake. Not even your parents can buy you an apartment.

It has only been three years since the keys are passed on to your ownership and people say three years is enough time for a person to make a place home. But your apartment doesn't even feel like home, only a place you’ll sleep in if you happen to be in Monaco for the evening.

Home is that humble, two-storey house painted in red and yellow in Lynnwood Avenue, Vista Del Pueblo, Austin, a total picture of a picket fence dream. Home is Abuelo's old farmhouse in El Paso where you spent your childhood riding horses and driving ATVs across the dusty dry earth. Home is the retro milkshake place owned by the sweet old couple that has been in the neighborhood longer than your entire existence. Home is the tree-lined streets where you walked the family senior dog, Niko. Home is the Austin Fire House, your Dad’s workplace that you visited a handful of times back when you were a child to deliver cookies that your Abuela baked so your Dad could share it with his co-workers. Home is your mom’s clinic in the middle of downtown, always smelling like eugenol, disinfectant, formaldehyde, and her perfume. Home is not glitz and gold and glamor and cash cash cash. Home is not seeing wealthy people left and right. Home is not Monaco.

And it is not like you stayed long in your place either. You're always off traveling around the world with the Red Bull team and accompanying Max wherever he needs your presence. You don't even spend your breaks in that apartment because you immediately fly home to your family once a break is graciously given to you before flying off again to watch Max collect trophy after trophy.

Six days from now, you're going to be flying off to Texas. That means you have six days—less than six days actually—to pack all your crayons and go. Of course you're going to pack up the day before you leave. Doing shit last minute makes your life exciting, and it's not like you had a lot of shit to pack anyway. All your belongings can be tucked into a total of three suitcases. Three years worth of belongings in three suitcases.

you: you doin good there?

Max has been holing himself up in his penthouse since your arrival from Abu Dhabi, probably dealing with his breakup with Kelly. A shame, really. You thought the two looked good together. (Do they really? the asshole part of your brain thinks.)

And P. Thank God for that child’s existence. You hate children but P is an exception. P brings the best out of Max. Max has gotten the chance to act as the father he never had. It's heartwarming, to be honest.

him: not really no

him: can you bring me coffee

you: on it champ

Fifteen minutes later, you’re knocking on the gigantic double doors of his penthouse, a tall styro cup of espresso from that cute café two streets down and a slice of blueberry cheesecake because you’re thoughtful enough to buy him his favorite cake. You experienced a breakup before. A cake and an icecream work wonders when it came to healing broken hearts.

“You're fast,” he immediately says after opening the door. You kind of expect that he’d look worse, snotty and messy and looking like he ran from hell and back. But no, he looks……fine? His sweater and shorts look absolutely neat and comfortable and dry of snot. His hair is a little fluffy from lying on his bed but not too messy. He doesn't even look like he was crying. No red-rimmed eyes. No red nose.

You fake gasp, putting a hand on your chest for additional dramatic effect, “The fastest racer in F1 callin’ me fast. Truly honored.”

A smile plays on his lips, sidestepping and beckoning you in.

You frequently come by Max’s home, for work purposes of course, but you still cannot help but be amazed by the enormity of it every time you enter. Max’s penthouse is twenty times bigger than the apartment you currently live in. One man and a big house—it must be very lonely now that P and Kelly are no longer around. Now, you’re even more worried about what will happen the moment you go back to Texas.

Oh… You still haven't told him yet.

“Coffee,” you hand him the warm styro cup to which he accepts gratefully. He utters his thanks, taking a whiff before sipping, letting out a pleasured moan.

You make your way to his gigantic kitchen, navigating your way through his cabinets in search of a plate and a fork. You slide the cheesecake on the plate towards Max, who followed you to the kitchen and sat on the empty stool in the kitchen counter.

“Thank you,” he says, picking up the fork and taking a bite. He glances at your feet, eyes trained on your YSL. The obnoxious sound of the heels clicking against the floor as you walk probably is the one that caught his attention.

“You know, you've been wearing the same shoes since 2019.”

Points for Max for noticing. These YSL Opyum heels are the first luxury items you bought for yourself after saving for three years to buy one pair. You saw a rich international student wear it once back in university and you liked how sophisticated it looked compared to all the pairs of converse or platform boots you owned. So you made it your life’s goal to own one. In 2019, after doing tons of part time jobs in university and working with Red Bull for a whole year, you managed to buy yourself one on your birthday and you’d been wearing them to work ever since.

Your regular work uniform consists of a Red Bull polo shirt, a pencil or a slit skirt, and that specific pair of heels. Around 2021, you bought another pair to replace the old one because the old one broke. And 2022 again.

“What's wrong with ���em?” you ask, brows furrowing as you followed his train of sight. Your heels might be a year old already but they still look fine.

Max blinks, “No, there's nothing wrong. Just…Do you think you would want to wear some other design?”

“No,” is your reply. “I like ‘em just the way they are.”

“Okay.”

Your conversation drifts into something else as Max finishes his coffee and cake. You spend the rest of the day in Max’s penthouse, lying on his plush couch while a slasher movie from the 2000s played on his wide TV. He has given you access on his Netflix account so you abused it to your heart’s content because you don't even have. a Netflix subscription. You can absolutely afford one, you just choose not to. You have opted in using your phone mid-movie because the movie is beginning to get real scary but you do not want Max to think you're a coward so you acted like you're disinterested instead.

“Oh look, Charles is also back in Monaco. Do you want to hang out together?” you nudge Max with your foot, who swats it away from him, face contorting in disgust. You show him the post on Charles private IG—yes, you were mutuals in each other's private IG because whoever is friends with Max was friends with you by extension—on your phone.

“Stop makin’ that face, my feet are nice.”

Your toenails are a glorious red now. Ferrari red actually and they suit you better than the Red Bull red. Huh, maybe you should have considered applying for Ferrari instead of Renault in 2018.

“No, it isn't.”

You roll your eyes, pulling it away from him and sitting up, “Do you want me to schedule you a dinner with Charles? You might need the bro time, you know? Dad said bro times are also important, but not as important as family time, of course. My bro broke up with his sweetheart back when I was still in uni and his best buds were the reason he was back up in tippy top shape by the end of the week.”

Max stares at you blankly, “I think I understand the words individually but not the sentence entirely. I don't know if it's the accent or you Americans just have a strange way of structuring your sentences.”

“Point is, hang out with a friend because a friend can help you move on from a pussy.”

Max hurls a throw pillow at your direction, which you luckily avoided thanks to your non-racer level but still considerably good reaction time, but unfortunately, this action causes your center of gravity to shift and before you know it, you're falling from the couch. Unconsciously, you grab Max but then Max doesn't expect that you’ll grab him so now, you’re both falling off the couch and onto the floor.

You groan.

“Fuckin’ ass, man. That was uncalled for.”

He flips you off.

Nevertheless, Max ends up following your advice though and calls Charles to hang out the next day. Lestappen fans should be thanking you on Twitter the next day for bringing those two together on an off-day in Monaco. Maybe they'll hang out and eat together in a restaurant? Maybe they'll go on a yacht picnic?

Except Max sends you a message at high noon.

him: sos

you: is your kitchen burning

him: no

him: but this is still an emergency and you need to come quick

him: he’s with his girlfriend and i don’t want to thirdwheel

you: succ it up

him: you can’t do this to me

him: i just got my heart broken in abu dhabi

you: where are you

him: home

him: i also need help in cooking

Charles is the one who answers the door when you knock. He looks genuinely surprised when he sees you and you deduce that Max hasn't told him that you're coming over.

“Babe, who’s that?” you hear Alex’s voice behind Charles and you light up immediately, quickly moving past Charles to throw your hands around the sweet young woman.

“Alex!” Alexandra laughs and hugs you back. The sound of her laughter is as pretty as she and God definitely has favorites because why did he sculpt this twenty-one year old like the daughter of the Aphrodite while you look like you were born from one of Hephaestus’ sperm that lost the gene pool contest? The world is unfair. You always get the short end of the stick, may it be career-wise or appearance-wise, and you can't even bring your personality to the table because normally, without the whole act of professionalism and sophistication you put on, you act like an extroverted American frat boy on a good day and a sassy drag queen slash war freak on a bad day so yeah, you guess that's the short end of the stick, too.

“Seriously?” you look up and saw Max holding a frying pan, staring at you unimpressed. You roll your eyes and slowly pull away from the hug, gaze returning to Alexandra.

“How’ve you been, sweetie? Been a while since I last saw you.”

You didn't get a chance to talk to her in Abu Dhabi and in Las Vegas.

“Good,” she replies, smiling sweetly and ugh, you want to pinch her cheeks so bad. But Charles is pulling you away from Alexandra before you can do so.

“No, no, she is mine, yours is right over there,” Charles says, pointing at Max, who's still standing there in the corner. “Go on. Shoo.”

You roll your eyes before walking up to Max, “‘Sup?”

Max raises a brow at you, “So Charles’ girlfriend gets a hug and I get a sup?”

“Well, she's Alexandra Saint Mleux and you’re just….” you look him up and down. “Nevermind, what you trynna cook?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

“I thought you said you were cooking.”

“I said I needed help with cooking.”

Your eyes narrow into slits, “You’re going to let me do the cooking, aren't you?”

“You know that pasta you made in September that you said was your mother’s recipe?”

A sigh escapes your lips as you roll the sleeves of your button-up to your elbows and power-walked your way to the kitchen, the sound of your YSL heels clicking against the floor bouncing against the walls of Max’s kitchen.

Lunch goes great. Charles and Alexandra love your cooking. Max has even asked for seconds. Good to know that he's eating well. Somewhere down the line, champagne is served even though it’s mid-afternoon and the four of you're sitting in Max’s balcony, staring at Monaco scape below. Thankfully, it is a cloudy day in Monaco. The heat of the sun isn't too harsh on the skin. Despite that, you hand Max a sun screen.

“Sorry about Kelly, by the way,” Alexandra says. Your conversation has drifted towards Max’s failed relationship now.

“That is very nice of you to say,” replies Max, smiling slightly. “But I’m okay.”

You give him a look, clearly unconvinced. Admitting vulnerability gives him hives so he's definitely lying.

“You look too okay for a guy who ended a three-year relationship,” Charles muses and his words get you immediately thinking.

Oh? So they’ve been dating that long? You never noticed.

“Even [Name] looked worse when she broke up with that Williams mechanic two years ago and they dated for like what? Barely a year?”

“Unprovoked!” you exclaim. Alex and Max laugh.

But yeah, Charles is right. When you broke up with Leo in 2021, it was not the prettiest sight. He entered Williams mid-2020 as a mechanic and he immediately caught your attention. He's kind and handsome and a very sweet guy. You have similar interests—engineering—and a similar sense of humor and you just….work so well together, you know? You were sure he was your soulmate the moment he cracked up that Physics pickup line and you know it was the same with him. You swore to God that you’d run away from all the British charming assholes but Leo made you eat your own words and gave you a run for your money.

But alas, 2021 season came and Red Bull Racing became busier than ever because Max and Hamilton got crazily competitive and Max demanded your full attention, needing you as a support system to win.

And Leo. Well, he’s busy, too. Engineers are always busy. But he felt neglected because all your attention was on Max. He felt like he was competing with Max for your attention and it shouldn't even be a competition in the first because Leo was the boyfriend and Max was not. And you cannot even deny that you prioritized Max that year. You wanted Max to win. You needed Max to win, so he can finally ask Horner to move you to the engineering team.

Losing Leo is devastating but Max won the WDC title that year and while you spent nearly a month crying over Leo after the breakup, you're hoping that at least, in 2022, you’ll finally get that damned engineering position at the cost of losing your soulmate. That the tears you shed and the broken heart you carried inside your ribs will be worth it if it was in exchange for your dream. Then, it does not happen. The job isn't given to you and you spent the early months of the 2023 season wishing that you have chosen Leo instead of Max Verstappen.

“You’re still friends with him, right?” Charles turns to you.

“Of course,” you say honestly. You're still mutuals on IG and he still hearts your IG stories at times. You still talk, too, on the freer nights where there's a lot of time to waste. “We ended on good terms.”

“How about you, Max?”

“Can we not talk about this please?”

The four of you empty that bottle of champagne and once the sun has begun retiring for the night, Alex and Charles also left. You're soon to follow, fixing your tote bag and going through the mental checklist in your head so you will not forget anything and not waste energy returning here to pick it up.

“You can stay for dinner.”

Max’s offer surprises you.

“No.”

His face drops as quickly as your answer came.

“You're goin’ to let me cook again.”

“No, I’ll cook.”

You give him an unimpressed look. Clearly, you're not convinced.

“I swear, I’ll cook.”

“What if I get poisoned?”

“You won't get poisoned.”

When you continue staring at him, he sighs.

“Just stay please?”

Of course, you stayed. He asked after all.

You keep your eyes on him as he makes dinner with clumsy hands and a bit of unsureness behind his actions.

“You're goin’ to burn it, honey,” you point out.

“What honey? I didn't put any honey in it.”

You blink. He blinks back.

“You’re gonna give me aneurysm one day.”

Shaking your head, you walk into the bathroom at the end of the enormous hallway, lock the door behind you, lean your back against the door, and slowly slides down until your ass meets the cold bathroom floor. You slap a palm against your forehead and purse your lips to stop a scream from erupting.

God fucking dammit, Max is too adorable back there and this is not doing good things for your heart.

[allbark-no-bite]

cowboy up.

jake seresin x reader (wc: 2.6k)

summary: Jake’s a tease. and a cowboy. it makes your friends sick

warnings: really none i think, just talk of and allusions to sex

authors note: very loosely based off of “Dirty Looks” by Lainey Wilson. it got me into the mood to write a little something. briefly mentioned that reader is Ice’s daughter

————————————————————————

"Well hello, mi cowboy."

It's the deliciously sensual roll of the endearment off of your tongue that has Jake hooking two fingers through the loop of your jeans and tugging you firmly into his side as he approaches the bar. It starts up an engine-like rumble in his chest that travels up his throat and catches, vibrating while he bows down to kiss you. Just the sight of your sweet smile has the weariness of the day melting off of him.

El cowboy, you mother had appraised with great enthuse the first time you had brought Jake home, and he greeted her with his smooth as honey southern drawl. Being Latino and having grown up just along the border in El Paso, her English was still licked with Spanish flare and it made everything she said sound rivetingly amorous. Even after three years of dating, she still widely referred to him as the cowboy—your cowboy.

"Hey, darlin'. Sorry I wasn't here sooner. There were some mechanical issues with my plane and I couldn't get away," he apologizes, hence the grease stains on his hands. He had probably only taken the time to change into a fresh set of clothes before leaving base and driving straight to the Hard Deck.

You only hum, tipping your head up to steal a second kiss before he straightens. "Glad you're here now."

Jake has to stop himself from chasing your lips for a third. Penny's warned him about getting too frisky at the bar. It's not his fault when you taste like strawberry margaritas and are wearing those jeans that you know drive him crazy.

But when he looks over his shoulder, Penny's sliding him an ice cold beer from across the bar. "This one's on the house, Seresin." The gleam shining in her eyes tells him that she's caught the two of you but is going to let it slide this time.

When he opens his mouth to argue, already digging his wallet out of his pocket, she shakes her head. "Looks like you had a long day. Enjoy the beer."

"Really, Pen, I—"

Penny's back is already turned as she heads to the other side of the bar to serving an incoming crowd of aviators.

Jake glances down to his well worn boots while his hand goes to his jaw to feel at the beginnings of a five o'clock shadow. Does he really look that worn out? He has to resist the urge to smell himself.

He looks back to you, suddenly feeling ashamed of himself for showing up like this. Here he is, covered in sweat and engine grease, while his own girlfriend is standing next to him, looking way out of his league. Even the Dagger Squad looks fresh and put together. It would have been hard to guess that they had all been out sweating on the tarmac together earlier in the day.

"I probably should have cleaned up," he admits, running a hand over the cropped hair at the back of his neck. He's wondering if he can at least escape to the bathroom for a minute to stick his head under the sink.

What Jake doesn't know is that you might actually kill him if he does that. There's something about the combination of his off-duty khakis and dusty boots that is making your heart flutter. The tousle of his blonde hair after a long day and ruddy flush of his already tan cheeks give off the impression that he's more than just a pretty face. He looks hard working and very, very capable.

"Jake?"

"Hmm?" he hums, having been eyeing the bathrooms, contemplating even just splashing some water on his face.

Your heart squeezes painfully when his dazzling green eyes turn back to land on yours, eyebrows raised in question, fully attuned to whatever it is that you may need. "What baby—"

He stops mid sentence when you pull him down by the back of his neck to kiss him. This time it's a much less chaste kiss than the one you greeted him with, and he gets to really taste the strawberry margarita on your lips—a bit sweet, a little salty. The taste makes his mouth tingle and he's not sure if it's you or the tequila that's making him feel buzzed.

Jake's hand immediately slips around your waist, his large hand on your back, pressing you into him. A groan slips out of him when his fingers brush the warm skin just above the rise of your jeans.

The fact that you had purposefully chosen not to wear your khakis like himself and the rest of the crew makes Jake that much more hot and bothered. It's not that he dislikes your usual naval attire, because he doesn't. He loves how it fits you, who you become when you wear it, your signature "Frostbite" embroidered on the front—the name he gave you. It's the fact he's come in, dead on his feet from working all day, and his diamond of a girlfriend is wearing an outfit she put on just for him.

Really, Jake thinks his chest might just implode.

His free hand had been holding his beer out to the side, momentarily forgotten once you'd started kissing him. Blindly, he sets it down behind him, the glass clinking against the bar top so that he can get both of his hands on you without spilling. He prefers you, the taste of your skin anyhow.

"So damn sweet," he groans into the underside of your jaw, eyes shut as he fights the urge to say fuck it and take you home now. "Could just eat you."

You laugh, fingers gripping his blonde hair. "Is that a promise, cowboy?" Jake's teeth scrape your pulse point and your fingers tighten. His body is hot pressed flushed against you, moving as you move so that the contact never breaks.

"Baby, I'd devour you," he promises huskily into your ear. Mav has been working them to the bone for the past few weeks, and Jake has hardly had the energy to climb the front steps when he gets home, much less make it to the bedroom. To say you've both been left wanting is an understatement.

His lips press wetly to your neck. "You look good, Frosty Girl. You know how much I love those jeans..."

You hum, eyes fluttering closed as Jake sends you to that place. That place where only you and Jake exist, where the worries of the day melt away, and it smells like his cinnamon oak body wash and the hint of beer on his breath. It doesn't matter than he smells slightly of sweat and jet fuel because that's just him. That's what makes him Jake.

"Mmm, you do?" Of course he does. Jake Seresin drinks the air you breathe and worships the ground you walk on. "I think you'll like what I have on under them more."

If Jake had been twenty-one again, he'd have a raging hard on in his jeans right now. After two years of dating you, he's developed a bit of self control since then. He spent a lot of lunch breaks jacking off in the bathroom the first few months. All you had to do was rub up against him climbing out the back seat of the cockpit and he was sneaking off to take care of himself before any of the Dagger squad could see the missile sized hard on in his pants.

Jake smiles, his pearly white grin pressed into your neck. His jade green eyes peer up at you with a gleam of anticipation.

"Black?" he guesses, his nimble fingertips already dipping just past your waistband to brush across the lace he knows he's going to find.

"Uhh mm," you deny, enjoying the thrill of teasing him with your secret.

His warm breath fans across your neck. "Red?"

The corners of your mouth quirk up into a look that Jake can only describe as devilish. "I figured you deserved a treat. I know you've been—" Before you can finish, Jake is kissing you. His pink lips are cool and a bit wet from the beer he's been nursing, but his tongue is hot and slick and wet and it just feels so good.

"Jesus. Get a room, you two."

Despite the roar of blood in his ears, the buzzing in his veins, Jake recognizes the sound of Bradley's voice just a table away.

Begrudgingly pulling away from the kiss, Jake doesn't release you just yet, just moves his head to look over your shoulder. He had hardly even acknowledged the Dagger Squad when he walked in, too focused on you. And maybe that's on him.

"Sorry, Bradshaw. Didn't see you there." You can tell Jake's smirking over your shoulder, hand not so slyly cupping the curve of your ass as he reaches for his beer with the other, playing at indifference. He takes a slow swig of it, unbothered by the fact that your friends -you coworkers- are all watching. "I was busy saying hello to my unbelievably sexy girlfriend."

Without breaking eye contact with Bradley, Jake plants a filthy wet kiss to the pulse point of your neck. It's enough to make the other aviator's mustache twitch and his throat constrict with a impulsive swallow. Regardless of how they acted— always at each other’s throats— there was no longer any bad blood between the two pilots. That feud had been settled on the Uranium mission last year and was replaced by new found respect, but that didn’t mean that they didn’t seize every opportunity to ruffle the other’s feathers.

"This is a public space," Natasha reminds him, as if he were unaware of the extremely crowded bar.

Jake smirks. "Oh believe me, I'm holding back for Floyd's sake. Wouldn't want to ruin his innocence."

The weapon system officer emits a noise of protest from across the table, his cheeks flashing an embarrassed hue of red. "I've already told you, I'm not a virgin!"

You giggle into Jake's shoulder at his complait, content to bask in the temporary stronghold of your boyfriend's embrace. It's nice to get moments with him like this, away from the stress of work and without the pressure of success weighing on your shoulders.

Of course your friends knew about yours and Jake's relationship, had known since the very first date, but in nearly three years of dating, they had come to the realization that they knew very little about your relationship. Work was strictly professional for the two of you and even at the bar, the most intimate thing they'd ever seen occur was Jake greeting you with a quick kiss.

"Damn, Bagman, you walking in here, kiss Frost senseless, and now she's giggling? You're telling me that's all it takes to bring her from she-devil to—giggling?" Coyote asks from behind his pool cue, sauntering over to join the group.

Jake, his green eyes gleaming, slips his warm palm under your shirt to smooth over the exposed curve of your hip. "I can make her do a lot more than giggle, Machado."

You groan, burying your embarrassingly flushed face further into Jake's neck. Although your boyfriend may be able to play the nonchalance card, you can only take so much of their teasing.

You push away from Jake before he can start full on groping you in front of your friends. If there's one thing about Jake, he has no shame when it comes to showing you off.

"I don't giggle, Javy," you stress, choosing to ignore Jake's comment.

Fanboy, who is never far behind the other pilot, saunters over and slings an arm around his friend's shoulders. "Giggle? I've never even seen you crack a smile."

Before you can respond, Jake is sliding an impossibly large palm around to cup the back of your neck, fingers digging in to the tense muscle that he knows is there. Relax, is what that means. "Careful, she does bite." He's grinning, a smug, but knowing smirk on his face. 

"Fuck, man. I knew you were into that kinky shit," Coyote quips, and it evokes a few laughs from the Dagger squad, save for Natasha, who pretends to roll her eyes. 

Jake grins. "Damn straight."

"Easy, cowboy," you warn, your eyes narrowing at him in playful warning.

You're not necessarily embarrassed by Jake's insinuation of your sex life, the two of you were well established in your relationship and you trusted your friends too much to be embarrassed by that kind of thing. It's just that being Admiral Kazanky's daughter meant that too many people assumed you had only made it this far because of your old man or that you were sleeping through the ranks, which was far from the truth. 

You deserved to be here. And Jake knows this, which is why his thumb is still massaging at the pressure point at the base of your skull, just behind your ear. Everything about him, from the reassuring smile he directs at you to his relaxed body language is him letting you know that it's all in good fun, and no one here thinks that you don’t belong here in the slightest. 

Bradley's shaking his head as he lounges against the pool table. "I don't know what I'm going to have to tell my therapist about first, the fact that Frost calls you 'cowboy' or the fact you probably get off on that shit.”

Jake grins, toothpick bobbing in his mouth as his impish smile widens. “Wouldn’t you like to know, Bradshaw?”

The truth is, he does. Behind the cool and collected facade that he’s putting up, bantering back and forth with your friends while he sips his beer, he’s just the right amount of hot and bothered that he wouldn’t mind calling it a night just to go home and have his way with you. He hasn’t forgotten about the little red number you’re wearing.

Having lost the attention of the rest of the squad to the pool table during his and Rooster’s banter, Jake shifts his focus to you. Large hand coming to rest on your back, he dips down to murmur in your ear. “Think I’m about ready to turn in, kid. What do you say we get out of here?”

Your pretty face turns towards him, and you don’t miss the gleam in his green eyes. Smiling privately to yourself, you eyes reflect his knowingly. “Rooster will never let you live it down. You only just got here.” However, that doesn’t mean you can’t be coerced.

Jake hums, his lips pressing to your temple in a kiss that’s meant to hide the fact that he’s whispering— plotting— in your ear. “I’ll buy ‘em around on the way out. They won’t even notice we’re gone,” he reasons.

You smile, turning back to the game of pool as Jake leans over you before you give him. “Go on,” you finally encourage. “I’ll follow you out.”

Grinning and all too pleased with himself, Jake slips off behind you, but not before giving an affectionate pat to your ass. You have to refrain from rolling your eyes at him.

You wait a while before discreetly making your escape form the pool table, grabbing your things as you go. Jake’s waiting for you at the door, all too pleased to see you, as though he hadn’t just five minutes before. “Made it?”

“Yeah, I don’t think they—”

“Well damn, goodbye to you guys too!” Rooster calls from across the bar. Obviously having noticed your departure, the Dagger Squad is all standing around the pool table, shaking their heads in varying levels of amused disapproval.

Payback crosses his arms. “You guys make me sick.”

Opening the door for you, Jake turns and tips his imaginary cowboy hat at them with an grin. “Sorry man. If you all will excuse me, I’ve got some riding to do.”

[topguncortez]

Only For Emergencies - J. Seresin

whumptober masterlist || previous day

prompt: shivering

synopsis: You decide it's time to try and tame the beast, and you go to the one place where you know you'll be able to do it.

warnings: drug abuse, drug related death, cursing, mentions of death, detoxing, vomiting, mentions of relapse, mentions of parental death

word count: 2.9k

You weren’t sure how you got there, but someone must’ve called the police after Jake had left you on the cold concrete. You didn’t know that you had fallen asleep until you felt someone shaking you and you came face to face with a woman in a blue uniform. She had been nice and decided to not write you up if you promised to go to the drunk tank and sleep it off. You agreed, like normal. Sat in the back of the cop car, like normal. Smile at your favorite booker, like normal. Stretched out on your favorite bench, like normal. And in the morning, you gathered your belongings and left, like normal. 

You took the path home that would take you past the church that held NA. You didn’t go cause you were clean, you went for the irony of it. You sat in the back like a spectator, out of the circle where the sober ones lived, telling their harrowing stories of survival. There was one person, who had tried for the better part of two years to help you get on the straight and narrow. You swore you had enough 30-day chips to create a full year's worth. Duchess was probably old enough to be your grandmother, but she was a nice lady. She was a playboy model turned junkie like most of them are, but she found God and wanted to save the ‘youth of America’ as she said. 

But you didn’t need saving. 

You were fucking better than goddamn Clark Kent. 

You pulled the door to the old Methodist church open and walked the dim hallways that smelled of mildew and dust until you got to the sanctuary. You nearly moaned at the smell of fresh coffee and donuts. One of the only reasons you hadn’t been kicked away and told to come back when you really wanted to get clean was because of Duchess. She held out hope that something would change. She told you once that you still had that sparkle in your eye. You poured yourself some coffee, like normal. Grabbed a donut and a napkin, like normal. And took your spot in the back of the rows, like normal. 

Except, nothing was normal. 

You were expecting to hear Duchess’s thick southern accent. You were expecting to see that god-awful fur coat that she said was gifted to her by Heffner back in the 80s. You were expecting to hear the same story of how she moved to LA at 16 and was mesmerized by the disco lights and marijuana. You were expecting to be led into prayer by her, you mocking her accent as she recited the ‘Our Father’. This was your routine every Saturday morning. And who dares to fuck with your routine?

Who said addicts can’t be organized? 

But you were met with the sight of Paul standing in the middle of the circle, a grim look on his face. You hated Paul. He was some rich kid who had gotten his high school girlfriend pregnant and killed all in the same month. He apologized, did maybe seven years, and got released with the promise that he’d get clean and never try to vote in the state of California. 

“I got word this morning that Duchess has passed away. The beast got her.” 

 You paled instantly at his words. It felt like sirens were going off in your head. 

Duchess. 

The woman who had found God. The woman who had turned her life around and spent her free time knitting clothes for her grandkids in El Paso. The woman who still held out hope for you when no one else did. 

Succumbed to the Beast. 

You couldn’t sit and listen anymore as Paul talked about how brave Duchess was and how inspiring her story had been. It was like the walls were closing in around you. It felt like the Beast had his claws dug into your soft flesh and was tearing you to pieces. Tears started to cloud your eyes as you stood up from your chair, dropped your coffee and donut on the ground, and ran out of the church. You felt lightheaded as you pushed the front doors open and took a deep breath of fresh air. 

But even out here in the open, you still felt like the Beast was on you. 

So you ran. 

Your legs were burning as you ran as fast as you could trying to escape from the Beast. You couldn’t even remember the last time you ran from anything or for any reason. Maybe high school track? Before you twisted your ankle. But even then it was no more than a light jog. Now you were in a full sprint. 

— — — 

Jake was sitting at his kitchen table, staring at the coffee mug you had made him for your third anniversary. It had pictures of the two of you on various dates and a handwritten ‘I Love You’ on it. You looked so much younger, lighter, and happier. It was crazy how fast the drugs and alcohol had aged you almost overnight. But to Jake, you still looked like the most beautiful thing in the world. 

He summed it up to that was the crazy part about loving an addict. He could look past the cracked skin, dry hair, dark eyes, and haunting frame. You were still the girl he loved. Still, that beautiful girl that he had met that day on the pier. 

For the first time in his life, Jake was not sure what to do anymore. He hated himself that everything had gotten this bad. He hated himself for leaving you when you clearly needed him more than you let on. But how was he supposed to know? You were good at hiding everything. He didn’t know about the drinking issues until he came home from work in the middle of the day and you were passed out on the couch. He didn’t know about the pill issue until he saw that you had refilled your dead father’s oxycodone prescription. He just didn’t know. 

The anger was filling up in his body again, as he stood up from the table and grabbed the empty mug again, ready to throw it at the wall. This has happened several times over the past couple of weeks. He’d pick you up from Jerry’s, take you home, listen to you berate him, come home, listen to a voicemail you had left, and pick up the empty mug, ready to break it to pieces. 

But he always stopped before he could do it. 

Why? He was not sure. 

Maybe because once he broke it, it would be broken forever. 

Jake sighed and set the mug down, plopping back into his seat. He held his head in his hands, pulling slightly on his hair as he tried to rack his brain for what to do. He had started to keep his ringer on at all times, in case the city morgue called to come pick your body out. 

A knock at the door had startled him out of his thoughts. Nobody knocked at his door. Not a single person. The dagger squad all knew Jake kept his door unlocked, a habit from living in small-town Texas, and they’d just walk right through. His heartbeat plummeted. 

This couldn’t be it. 

This could not be it. 

Slowly, Jake walked to the front door, and leaned his forehead against it, saying a small prayer and bracing himself for whatever news the police officers on the other side of the door were going to tell him.

You were dead. 

Overdosed right there on the sidewalk last night after he left you. 

Jake could already hear the words now. 

He took a deep breath and turned the doorknob slowly, bracing himself for the worst. 

“Y/N,” 

“I don’t wanna die,” You were shaking on his doorstep. Your eyes were red, but not red from getting high, but from tears. You were still in last night's clothing, your make-up was smeared a bit on your face. And you were panting like you had been running a million miles to get here. 

Jake opened his arms and you collapsed in them, sobs leaving your mouth. He held you tightly against his body, scared that the wind might blow you away. You had lost weight and it was even more noticeable as Jake ran his hand down your back, feeling the notches of your spinal cord. Your hair smelled of cigarettes and stale beer, but he could also smell the coffee rolling off of you, which meant that you had gone to another meeting. He pulled back first and looked at you. 

You knew what he was thinking. You had said these words before when you were going through a psychosis episode. But you were starting to sober up and there was a certain pounding in your head that was the most unpleasant thing you had felt in a long time. 

“I need help,” You admitted and it tasted worse than any drug you had put in your body, “I need help. I need help.” 

You kept repeating it like a broken record, tears and snot rolling down your face as you spoke. Jake nodded his head wordlessly and guided you into his house, your lips still muttering those three words. He sat you down on the couch and went to get you a glass of water. He didn’t know the first thing about helping an addict through withdrawals, except that it got messy. Jake quickly grabbed the loaf of bread from the cupboard and put down two pieces before going to give you the glass of water. 

You thanked him as you took it, and drank most of it down in one go. Your throat was dry partially from running here and partially from crying. Jake sat himself down on the coffee table in front of you, keeping enough distance between the two of you and the door. You glanced over at it, still hearing the beast outside of it, clawing at the red paint. You started to shake again and Jake’s head perked up. 

“A-are you cold?” He asked and you looked at him. 

“The beast is gonna get me,” You whispered. Jake just nodded, not wanting to make you even more paranoid. 

“How about you lie down?” Jake gestured to the couch. You looked like you maybe got an hour of sleep, “I’ll make sure the beast stays out. You take a nap and we can talk more when you wake up.” 

You nodded and Jake helped you lay down on his couch. He grabbed the blanket that rested on the back and tucked it around you. He gently caressed your head as you closed your eyes, feeling somewhat safe from the beast that awaited outside his door. Jake’s heart broke watching as you curled yourself in, trying to keep yourself safe from whatever tricks your mind was playing. 

For the rest of the night, Jake stayed by your side. During your awake bouts, which didn’t last more than an hour or so, Jake was able to get you to eat and have you drink some electrolytes. He had done research, doordashing groceries and things he was going to need while you detoxed. He also looked up local rehab facilities. It was the last thing he wanted to do, send you to some lockdown facility that he would only be able to have supervised-one hour visits with you on the weekends. You had sent your father to a place like that, and you swore it was the final straw in your relationship with him. 

Jake also managed to get you to talk about why the change of heart. You didn’t go into much detail, either because your brain couldn’t come up with it or you were too scared to open up. You told him about waking up in the drunk tank this morning and hearing about Duchess’ death. 

“It scared you, didn’t it?” Jake asked. Your eyes were fixed on the TV screen in front of you. The sound was off, so it was just the flashing images on the scene that was playing out. Your hands were wrapped around a steaming cup of tea, “Y/N,” He called out softly, placing a hand on your thigh, “It’s okay to be scared.” 

You blinked, looking over at Jake, “I’m not scared of anything,” You gave him a weak smile, “I’m fucking Clark Kent.” 

Day two had been the worst. You were now 48 hours drug and alcohol-free, and it was really starting to hit you. You woke up in a pool of your own sweat, calling out Jake’s name. He had set you up in his room, volunteering to take the guest bed. You had tried to protest, but he said that the room was bigger and had an attached bathroom. During his research he read that constipation and diarrhea were common in the detoxing stage, and wanted to give you privacy. In your delirium, you somehow managed to pull yourself out of bed and start walking down to the guest room. Jake was just starting to get out of bed, having heard you call out his name, when he heard a crash in the hallway. He ripped open the door and found you withering in pain on the floor. 

“Jesus Christ,” He mumbled and walked over to you. You were hot to the touch and your clothing was soaked in sweat, “C’mon, we gotta cool you down.” 

“No!” You slurred. 

You were nearly limp in his arms as he picked you up and took you to the bathroom. He laid you down on the ground, and started the shower, turning it on as cold as he could get it. You curled yourself into a ball, your stomach was hurting like it could explode any minute. Jake held his hand under the stream of water, watching you as you pulled yourself to your knees and crawled over to the trash can. He grimaced as you got sick, and looked up at the ceiling. He guessed this was the best thing that could happen so far. The drugs were finally starting to leave your system. 

Once Jake determined the water was set to a good enough temp, he walked over to you, gently lifting your body up. You had vomit on the collar of your shirt, as Jake pulled it up and over your head. You felt weightless as Jake picked you up and walked over to the shower. Jake didn’t even think twice as he stepped into the shower, lowering himself down on the floor, still in his pajamas and placing you in between his legs. You instantly curled up against him, trying to get away from the cold stream of water, wanting to savor the warmth of his body. 

Jake hadn’t really got a good look at you before, seeing as you mainly dressed in baggy clothing. But now, as you sat in his arms shivering, he could see the bruises and the bones that were sticking out of your colorless skin. Your hair was greasy, telling Jake that it had been a while since you had last washed it. It was nothing like the well put together woman he had met all those years ago. That woman would be so embarrassed of the girl sitting on the shower floor.

“I’m gonna die,” You sobbed against his chest. 

Jake normally would grimace at the feeling of tears and snot dampening his shirt, but he didn’t even flinch as he held you tightly on the floor of his shower. You were starting to shake as the lukewarm water was breaking your fever. He held you tightly until your sobs turned to sniffles, and your shakes turned to small trembles. 

“You are not going to die,” Jake said, resting his chin on top of your head, “This is the suck, and you just gotta embrace it. When the toxins are out, you will feel better. It’ll take some time till it’s all out, but it’ll all be out.” 

You nodded, “How did you know what to do?” Your hands found the chain of his dog tags, twirling the metal around your fingers. 

“I watched you do it to your dad,” Jake muttered, “I think it was one of the last times he promised to get on the straight and narrow,” Jake scoffed, “I wanted so badly to tell you to just give him up. Let him kill himself, but you. . . you just would not quit. You’re stubborn, too stubborn for your own good.” 

You nodded your head again, your eyelids feeling heavy. Jake waited a couple more minutes, before reaching up and turning the water off. He gently slid out from behind you, grabbing a towel and quickly drying off, before pulling you from the shower. He sat you down on the closed toilet seat, grabbing a new dry towel and his fluffy white bathrobe. 

“Are you okay if I-” He gestured towards the towel in his hand. 

“You just saw me throw up on my shirt,” You answered, looking up at Jake, “You can dry me off. Please, I’m cold now.” 

Jake nodded his head, kneeling down in front of you and carefully, drying you off. You appreciated the gentleness of his touch, as he dried your body. You let him undress you, sliding the sopping wet undergarments off of your body and slipping the white fluffy robe on in their place. Jake then carried you back down to his bedroom, against your pitiful protests. He took his time, fluffing the pillows and tucking you into the ultrasoft sheets. He sat by your side, running his hand over your hair, something he used to do on the nights you’d come home after taking care of your dad, until your eyelids fluttered shut. 

“We’re gonna get through this,” Jake muttered to you, “We’re gonna tame the beast.”

note: part 3???? sike

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[catmomjudy]

Did Eddie Run Away to the Army?

(Fox Publicity Still)

I commonly see it phrased (in fanfiction and in some posts here) that Eddie “ran away” to the Army.

What does canon say?

In “Eddie Begins” (s3e15), canon states that Eddie “will be back to Afghanistan next week” when they talk with their parents after Christopher is born.

When they are arguing about Eddie’s reenlistment (which he did without telling her), canon also has Shannon saying “I got pregnant, and you signed up. Surprise!”

In s6e16, when they are talking about proposals, Eddie says, “Shannon got pregnant. When she told me the news, I said, ‘We should get married.’ I barely even asked.”

So, it is very clearly canon that Eddie did not enlist until after Shannon discovered that she was pregnant. They got married, and he was already stationed in Afghanistan when Christopher was born. 🇺🇸 🇦🇫 🇺🇸 🇦🇫 🇺🇸 🇦🇫 🇺🇸 🇦🇫 🇺🇸 🇦🇫 🇺🇸 🇦🇫 🇺🇸 🇦🇫 🇺🇸 🇦🇫 🇺🇸 So, how did we get from Civilian Teenager Eddie to PFC Diaz, duty station Afghanistan? Let me tell you a story.

Teenager Shannon absolutely knows she is pregnant the very first day she missed her period. She runs straight into Eddie’s arms and tells him. (That’s the 4 week point of a 40 week pregnancy.)

She and Eddie go down to the courthouse the Very Next Day to get married. That same day, Eddie then goes to a recruitment office.

His recruiting and training process goes through the system “Like Magic,” and he quickly progresses through each of the steps. For 68W (Combat Medic):

Recruitment: 2 weeks

Basic Training: 10 weeks

Advanced Training (AIT): 16 weeks

Prep for deployment: 3 weeks

Total: 31 weeks

(Based on: 68W (Combat Medic) training requirements at goarmy.com; Personal stories and Ask/Answers posted by real soldiers online)

Eddie arrives, duty-bound and healthcare coverage obtained, in Afghanistan, 35 weeks after the stick turned blue.

When Eddie reports to his very first duty station as a PFC (Private First Class, or E3), he asks for leave (“I need to be in Texas in about 4 weeks because we’re having a baby!”), and his very nice commanding officer says, “Why sure PFC Diaz! Let me arrange your military airlift right away!” And off Eddie goes, arriving in El Paso in advance of Christopher’s birth.

It’s a lovely fairy tale, but this is what canon says happened, so we have to accept it as truth. 🇺🇸 🇦🇫 🇺🇸 🇦🇫 🇺🇸 🇦🇫 🇺🇸 🇦🇫 🇺🇸 🇦🇫 🇺🇸 🇦🇫 🇺🇸 🇦🇫 🇺🇸 🇦🇫 🇺🇸 Now, I could tell you all of the ways that this is a TV fantasy. I was in the Navy for 11 years, so I already took it with a grain of salt. I did some poking around (because, as former military, I know that what goes for the Navy doesn’t necessarily go for the Army where it relates to duty assignments), and found various Reddit chats where enlistees were asking questions about recruitment and 68W training, and I skimmed through a bunch of answers to get a general idea of timelines, and then meshed that with my own experience.

The numbers above are an Absolute Minimum. No delays in processing; no wait for the next Basic class start date; no gap after Basic (and no picking up trash and cleaning toilets at Ft. Sam) while awaiting for the next Combat Medic course to start; no leave taken after AIT; and no training or medical period at his first duty station before deployment (and troops are deployed from stateside commands as a group—you don’t just get on a plane and show up in Afghanistan). Eddie would need to take leave and return to Texas for the birth. He would have earned 14 pay periods worth of leave at this point, which would add up to 17.5 days on the books, so he would have enough days to go home for 2-ish weeks. However, he is NOT EVER going to go to Afghanistan and then fly back 4 weeks later. That’s a pipedream. If they’re nice, they’ll keep him stateside and send him for additional training at Ft. Sam Houston (where 68W AIT is held). But, if, as canon states, PFC Eddie is already in Afghanistan, it is highly doubtful that he’d be back for the birth.

And this is even assuming that Teenager Shannon knew she was pregnant on the very first day she missed her period. 🤔 Yeah, probably not.

[This is also not even getting into the fact that, based on the birthdate on her tombstone, by Texas state law, Shannon would have entered kindergarten in September 1998, at the age of almost-six. She would have graduated in 2011 (the year Christopher was born), which would totally turn the above timeline into an unreachable fantasy, unless she and Eddie were in different grades (maybe someone else can figure that bit out). So, we’ll assume she moved to TX from a state that had a December 31 cut-off (which, in the 90s, was most northern states—I’m from PA, and currently live in CT, and, until recently, this was the date in both places), and that Eddie was born sometime before September 1, 1992 (so he could start school in September 1997). Then they would have both graduated in May 2010. There, that fixes it. 😁]

🇺🇸 🇦🇫 🇺🇸 🇦🇫 🇺🇸 🇦🇫 🇺🇸 🇦🇫 🇺🇸 🇦🇫 🇺🇸 🇦🇫 🇺🇸 🇦🇫 🇺🇸 🇦🇫 🇺🇸 So, did Eddie “run away”?

I think, to even make the Fantasy Timeline happen AND result in placement in the career path Eddie chose (because it’s a selective field with a much higher-required ASVAB score and more training requirements than other high-demand fields like Infantryman), he needed to have been considering it anyway. The military is a really good choice for a boy (or girl) from Texas who doesn’t want to go to college right now, but wants to learn job skills and earn college benefits. If he already was thinking about it, he would already know that the military dependent health benefits (and housing benefits) are pretty darn good. Not perfect, but then, no insurance plan is these days (I could tell you a story about where I, active military, gave birth, vs. the jacuzzi-equipped birthing suite my coworker’s military dependent wife got to use, but this is already too long).

Viewer opinion of Eddie’s enlistment in the Army is very much colored by his memories of Shannon in “Eddie Begins” (see quotes, above), and their argument in “Haunted” (s2e07–and, yes, I did notice that it’s a Ghost Title 😁).

Eddie: What did you need that I didn't give you?

Shannon: You! I needed a husband and a co-parent. And instead, all I got was a life alone in Texas with a baby and you on another continent. I needed someone to have my back.

Eddie: I always had your back.

Shannon: No. You were in Afghanistan.

It’s also colored by civilian opinions on and stereotypes of military personnel and military life.

Military people have families. Many of them have children and good, solid marriages. They rotate back and forth between stateside and forward deployment, so they aren’t always gone (except when there’s an actual war, like in the early 20-teens, so bad timing for Eddie). During peacetime, you don’t deploy over and over again without being assigned to what the Navy calls “Shore Duty” without volunteering for it, usually in writing. Career military people enter service and stick around for 20 years, because the benefits are good, and the retirement pay is good, too. Retiring on half pay at age 38 is not a horrible thing.

Eddie’s fatal character flaw is not that he ran away: It’s that he internalizes his decisions, and makes knee-jerk decisions without discussing them with anyone. Join the Army. Reenlist. Move to LA. Leave the 118. Yep. And I can see why Shannon was royally ticked off. He should have talked with her, but, really, I’m thinking the conclusion would have been the same in the end—she just would have felt better about it. Having your child diagnosed with a major health issue is NOT the time to lose your health insurance, even briefly. If they talked, they could have discussed Eddie rotating stateside at his next opportunity—duty station assignment doesn’t align with enlistment period, after all—closer to Shannon’s mother. A compromise.

I guess what really annoys me is when people use Eddie “running away to the Army” to justify Shannon’s actions (even, or especially, when Eddie says this himself). Eddie’s military service gained him health benefits for his pregnant wife and subsequent child, and health coverage for that same child; he went home on leave when able; and he video-chatted with his wife and child routinely. As Eddie says in s3e15: “I was in Afghanistan, not Cancun.”

Let’s not compare that with Shannon ghosting her own child for two years. Per s2e07, this is also canon, folks.

There’s a reason for the Ghost-themed title, after all.

P.S. I know I’m going to take flack for this one, but “Who Cares?”

🤷🏻‍♀️

[muppeddie]

buck is going to spiral in ways as of yet unseen. he is going to help eddie move. he is going to cancel the lease in his loft and move in the diaz house. he is going to go on a series of neverending dates and never bring them back home. he is going to start mountain climbing and hiking and surfing and knitting and sawing. he will clean the couch and dust the mantle and call eddie and chris every single day while they're in texas and check on them and pretend everything is fine. he is never going to let eddie actually leave. he is going to terrorize every single el paso home agent. no home will be good enough. he is moving too. all of this and more can happen at once.

[distractionpie]

There’s something unreal about seeing his home wiped clean of the last seven years, as empty as it’s felt since Christopher’s departure, but Eddie will do whatever it takes to build himself a real place in Christopher’s life in El Paso.

Taking his keychain, he slides off the house key and sets it beside Buck’s waiting one in the mailbox.

Then he slides off the apartment key which has sat beside it for so long.

“Here. I won’t…”

Buck wraps his hand around Eddie’s, curling his fingers tightly back around the key.

“It's yours, Eddie. No matter where you are.”

[sonofatoasterwaffle]

still the one

Buck’s just arranged himself on the couch when Eddie comes out of the bathroom. He looks soft and tired and a little raw, his hair damp. It hurts to look at him so Buck doesn’t. 

He knows he’s not good at keeping any of this inside. Though, he did try throughout the evening, because that seemed best for Christopher. Too bad that kid is smarter and more emotionally evolved than both of them and bailed for his room right after dinner. Their son had stacked the dishes in the sink before informing them that their “vibe was off” and that he’d be in his room doing homework until it was time to play Apex with his friends. 

Thirteen is proving to be a fun age. 

Eddie had tried again, then. “I never said you did something wrong—"

Buck had cut him off, because bullshit, and Eddie needs to stop repeating that. “It doesn’t matter that you said the words ‘you didn’t do anything wrong’ because you went on to describe exactly how you think I was wrong!” 

And they were down the rabbit hole again. 

But now it’s late. The dishes are done and the kitchen is clean and bags are packed for school and work tomorrow. They’ve gone through all the motions of getting ready for bed, both checking in on Christopher even though he insists he’s too old to be tucked in these days. And there’s nothing else to busy themselves with.

Buck’s stomach roils with feeling out of place and uncomfortable somewhere that’s always felt like home. They’re married now. Buck gave up the loft months ago. There’s nowhere to run. And Buck has nothing to say that isn’t ugly and twisted up and bleeding.  

Eddie seems to have fewer qualms. “Do you need space?” 

That… Buck wasn’t expecting. “What?” 

Eddie sighs, takes a step closer. “From me. Do you need space from me tonight?”

Honestly, Buck doesn’t know what he needs. He just knows that he’s needy and clingy as a general rule and they’re already fighting and it feels sour and unwieldy in his chest to still want to be wrapped in Eddie’s arms despite all the unresolved things they said. He just knows he doesn’t want to make things worse. “I thought, uh… I assumed you might.” 

Eddie shakes his head. “Come to bed?” 

“Do you— are we—?” Buck’s not sure how to ask, but he’s definitely sure he can’t keep talking about this tonight. 

Not without saying those strangled and hurt things that he doesn’t completely mean. Probably won’t mean at all come morning. Buck knows people say you and your partner shouldn’t go to bed angry. But continuing this uphill battle when he already feels exhausted and cornered and defensive like a scared animal sounds like hell. 

Eddie answers the question even though Buck couldn’t ask. “Nah, I think we should table it. Talk tomorrow when we’ve had some time. Just…” he looks at the floor. “Could we maybe just be mad next to each other?” 

The knot of tension in Buck’s stomach lessens just a little at the thought that Eddie still wants him. Even though they’re arguing. Even though it feels like they’re talking in circles and getting nowhere. There’s something in knowing that they have more work to do, but that they don’t have to do it all tonight. That there’s time and that maybe tomorrow it’ll feel better. Less raw. Easier to communicate. 

“Yeah, okay.” Buck says finally, taking his pillow with him as he follows Eddie to his—their— bedroom. 

Buck rounds to his side of the bed, tosses the covers back. Eddie always sleeps closest to the door. At first, Buck had thought maybe it was an anxiety thing. Needing to have an exit. Had even made jokes about it whenever they slept away from home and Eddie still picked the side closer to the door. “Just in case you need to make an escape?” 

Eddie would chuckle, but say nothing, a slight blush rising in his cheeks. 

Buck marked it down as just a little quirk of Eddie’s, thought little of it. Until they visited El Paso together for the first time last summer, and Ramon made a passing comment about how he always puts himself between Helena and the door, no matter where they’re sleeping. “Anything that comes through that door would have to go through me, first.” He’d said, half joking, kissing Helena’s cheek. 

It had made Buck’s heart swell in his chest, and he’d caught Eddie’s eye just in time to see him blush again, offer a slightly sheepish grin. 

Now, it makes Buck melt a little every time they get in bed.

He’s not a small man. In fact, he’s got a few inches on Eddie and definitely more bulk. But the fact that Eddie thinks about it like that. Like Buck is something precious to be protected? Buck can’t fault him for it. It’s romantic if a little traditional. It makes Buck feel secure.

Even tonight, the steady repetition of getting into bed on their respective sides settles something in Buck. He’s still upset. He still wishes Eddie would see it his way. He still needs to find a way to explain this to Eddie in a way that he’ll understand so they can figure out how to deal with it. But they get to take a break. They get to try again tomorrow. 

They don’t get as close as they normally do, mindful of each other’s space tonight. Eddie’s facing away from him, arms pulled in when they’d usually start out sprawled over each other. But after Eddie turns off the lamp, after he settles into the mattress and pulls the covers over his shoulder, he reaches out with one foot, hooks an ankle over Buck’s calf. “I love you.” 

That knot untangles just a little bit more. “Love you, too.” Buck replies, shifts the leg Eddie’s snagged a little closer to the middle of the bed. “See you in the morning.” 

It’s a promise. An offered touch of legs under the blankets of his own. It’s not everything. But it’s enough.

Also on AO3

[emjcleaningservices]

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[silkendandelion]

What happened to Texas?

Disclaimer: I created a lot of the lore below for my personal Fallout rp, but feel free to use any ideas here for your own nonprofit discord, fanart and fanfictions (no commissions of any kind). Keep fandom free.

The day the bombs fell, most every Texan was at home, glued to their television screens to watch the Rangers play the Red Sox in the first World Series on Texas soil in over two decades. The rest of them were in their offices, trying to decide how to save their beloved state from the imminent economic crash that would follow the news that the oil fields have finally run dry.

Within just a few minutes, the decision was made for them.

Immediately following the fallout, a lot of Texans in the rural areas were left mostly unaffected, albeit severely isolated and short on supplies. For the four major metropolises: Dallas, Houston, Austin, and El Paso, they were all but scorched earth.

As a result of having so little nuclear infrastructure outside these four areas, what followed continues to amaze the anthropologists who study the years immediately following the first bombs. With no intercommunications, and no outside forces, called the “Great Grocery Run”, was a mass temporary exodus of Texans to the surrounding state borders to acquire nuclear technology and return to their non-irradiated homesteads. A lot would not return, although it picked clean the borders of nearly all salvage and tech in less than a decade.

Where the evidence of humanity was slowly dwindled and erased, nature reclaimed the (in some places nearly 100 miles) wide dead zone around the landlocked parts of the state, called “Chiron’s Hoof Print”, as a running joke that Chiron leapt off the earth not to escape Heracles but to escape nuclear war.

With such a wide wilderness to cross that has no places to salvage or buy supplies, crossing the dead zone with vehicles runs the risk of being stranded, especially when visitors don’t know to expect sudden wilderness. Meanwhile, travelers on foot are at the mercy of the irradiated rivers and animals.

Nearly 200 years later, the Hoof is more clearly marked, well-mapped but not so well understood as by the Farriers: a high-turnover group of mercenaries who take payment (caps or trade) to escort both caravans and individuals across the dead zone. They understand where the thinnest zones of the Hoof are, as well as carrying knowledge of safe water sources and how best to defend themselves from every type of creature. The average trip across is four days with plenty of rest breaks, but some excellently navigated Farriers, or ones with hearty clients that only stop to nap, can make the journey in 3 days, averaging one to two trips a week per Farrier.

(Put your fallout headcanons and extra lore in the notes so I can read them please, the hyperfixation is hyperfixating)

[911varietyposts]

🖥️🖥️🖥️ 💔💔💔 😭😭😭 and 🛍🛍🛍 please and thank you! 🙏

incominggggg

make britt write!

🖥️ College Polyfire/Toddler Chris

Once the boy and his things were packed up in Tommy’s pickup truck, they made their way over to the stadium. “You know the drill buddy. Stay in your chair on the sidelines until I’m done with practice and come get you, okay?” He turned in his seat to look at the boy, who was grinning away in his car seat. “Okay!” He unbuckled the boy and helped him out of the truck, making sure he stayed nearby as he unloaded the wagon from the bed and sat it on the ground. Once Chris’ little chair and canopy shade were loaded into it, Tommy turned to look at the boy. “Are we walking or riding today?” Chris studied the wagon before giggling happily. “Ride Tada, ride!”

💔 BuddieTommy Angst

His phone dinged from his hoodie pocket, his alarm going off to tell him it was time to go. “I should get going, it’s a long drive to El Paso.” He whispered as he stood up, his arms never moving from where they were wrapped around Buck and Tommy. “I’m going to miss you two so much.” A fresh wave of tears slipped down his cheeks as he hugged them both tightly. “Keep the house clean and ready for me, okay? I’ll be back before we all know it.” Eddie tried to joke, but it fell flat from the somberness of the group. He softly pressed a kiss to Buck’s lips, then Tommy’s before grabbing his suitcase and heading to the front door, the other two men following close behind. “I’ll call you when I stop for the night, so you know I got there safely.”

😭BTHB Crying into Chest

Buck let himself sit on the bed next to Eddie, the other man quickly wrapping his arms around the leg closest to him. His face was pressed against Buck’s thigh, trying to stay as close to the man as possible. “Don’t…don’t leave.” Eddie mumbled, Buck’s hand carding through his hair as his sobs turned to soft hiccups. “I’m right here. I’m here as long as you need me.” Buck’s voice remained soft as he stared down at his best friend. Eventually Eddie’s breathing evened out and his death grip on Buck’s leg loosened. As Buck leaned back and stared at the ceiling, he let out a sigh as he began to think.

🛍 Down Bad in Home Depot

Following his boyfriend to the kitchen, Eddie leaned against the wall and watched as Nick moved around, grabbing things they would need for dinner that night. “Are you going to let me help tonight or am I still on watching duty?” He asked, only for Nick to shoot him a look. “Eddie, babe, I love you, but you burnt potatoes last week. You aren’t cooking anything for us for a while.” “It’s not my fault I got distracted.” Eddie complained as he walked up behind Nick and wrapped his arms around the man. He laid his head between his shoulder blades and rocked back and forth gently. “Actually, that was your fault that I was distracted, you know.”

[canonicallyobserving911]

“I’m still in love with you but... I needed to learn how to love myself too!”

Fanonwriter2023 on AO3

Where CANON and FANON collide!

Season 7 FANON Speculation: Buddie Multi-Chapter Fanfic - Hiatus Reading: “I’m still in love with you but... I needed to learn how to love myself too!”

Chapter 13 is now available on AO3 - "Petty Eddie" and "Jealous Buck" make their comebacks.

This is an EPIC LOVE STORY!

“I’m still in love with you but... I needed to learn how to love myself too!”

Currently 13 chapters completed: 363.1K Words Rated: Mature

One chapter will be posted at a time.

___________

Here's a snippet from Chapter 13 of a conversation Buck and Eddie had with Connor.

___________

Eddie tilts his head to the side and squints his eyes as he tries to remind himself that he's been to therapy and that he's not as petty as he used to be.  But then he thinks fuck that because someone needs to tell this fucker the truth.  “Therapized Eddie” has left the building and “Petty Eddie” has entered the chat.

“Connor, why are you even here?” Eddie asks.

Connor leans back like he’s been slapped across the face.

With fierceness in his honey brown eyes, Eddie continues. “Did you come here to add insult to injury? Is that why you asked to see Buck? I mean let’s be real for a minute because Buck already knew your son wasn’t biologically related to him so what was the purpose of you asking him to come here today?”

He shakes his head in disbelief because he knew Connor was on that competitive bullshit and if he really thought he couldn’t get his wife pregnant, he should have gone to a damn sperm bank instead of roping Buck into his nonsensical fuckery. But now he’s here rubbing the fact that he was able to get his own wife pregnant into Buck’s face and Eddie’s not having it.

When Connor doesn’t respond, Eddie keeps talking. “Ah, I knew my suspicions about you were correct. Not only did you abandon your wife when you thought the baby was Buck’s but instead of you coming to find her and ask her to come home, you let her stay with Buck so he could clean up your fuck up. Then you left her here and asked Buck to talk to her for you.”

What else is Eddie going to say to Connor?👀

___________

This is an EPIC LOVE STORY!

Fic Summary: Months after Buck and Eddie were hit by the same lightning strike; they’re still struggling with the aftermath of it.  But before they make their love confessions, they’ll spend time getting to know themselves as individuals first. Eddie learns to enjoy the simple things in life as he participates in activities on his own and with new friends while Buck learns the rest of the 31-year-old deep dark family secret about his conception and birth. Their journey to forever is still a work in progress but once they finally admit they’re in love with each other, everything that follows their love confessions will be cataclysmic.

__________

Chapter Summaries

Chapter 1 - Eddie makes a new friend while Buck receives devastating news regarding the sperm donation he made for Connor and Kameron.

Chapter 2 - Buck does a lot of research to learn more about the abnormalities found in his red blood cells and Eddie starts a new therapy journey that’s all about him and not the traumas he’s experienced.

Chapter 3 - After more than a month, Buck and Eddie finally spend time together outside of work but it doesn’t end well and they part with a lot of uncertainty regarding their places in each other’s lives.

Chapter 4 - Eddie has a few realizations about his life which causes him to consider moving back to El Paso, TX while Buck continues to be reminded of his past which causes him to take an impromptu road trip across America.

Chapter 5 - Both Buck and Eddie have difficult conversations with their parents and Buck finally learns the truth behind the reason why his mother despised him while Eddie finally tells his mother about the way she tries to control him.

Chapter 6 - More than two weeks after Buck pushed Eddie away after suggesting they needed a break; Eddie decides to try again. Eddie’s there for Buck when he’s at his worst just like Buck was there for him when he was at his worst and he won’t let Buck give up.

Chapter 7 - After Buck’s mental breakdown, Eddie has his back the same way Buck had his when he had his own breakdown more than a year ago.  They share several vulnerable and emotionally intimate moments with one another and they begin to realize their small, sweet and caring gestures matter just as much if not more than any grand gesture ever could because these are the foundations of a long-lasting love relationship.

Chapter 8 - Buck, Eddie and Chris all have their own therapists and during their sessions, they reflect on their pasts while they’re in the present so they can prepare for their future together as a family.

Chapter 9 - Buck and Eddie are there for each other when Buck has to testify as a witness during the trial.  But by the end of it, they’ll both realize their individual and shared traumas are going to keep resurfacing until they talk about them, deal with the fact that they’re in love with one another and face the fact that they can’t live without each other.

Chapter 10 - As Buck and Eddie finally begin to confront their past traumas, they realize how much they need each other to fill in the gaps of their memories.  Additionally, the universe screams at them for what appears to be the one hundredth time so Buck can realize he doesn’t have to ‘find it’ because he already ‘made it’ and Eddie’s reminded tomorrow isn’t promised and he doesn’t have to die alone if he doesn’t want to.

Chapter 11 - A “virga” or dry thunderstorm is in the forecast but once the rain starts, the thunderstorm happening outside won’t be able to match the storm brewing inside between Buck and Eddie.  It’s the universe’s final scream and when the tumultuous winds begin to blow, they’ll have one last chance to hold onto everything they’ve built over the last six years or they’ll lose it all forever.

Chapter 12 - Buck and Eddie have always shared a deep physical attraction and an emotional intimacy that’s unmatched but now that they’re in a relationship, they’re learning how to navigate the romantic intimacy they’ve been waiting for six years to explore. The love they have for each other is a once in a lifetime, soulmate, love of their lives type of love that transcends space and time.

Chapter 13 - While navigating the newness of their romantic relationship, Buck and Eddie take advantage of every moment they spend together. As their individual lives, people from their pasts, time constraints and the possibility of losing each other again make attempts to interrupt and interfere with their journey to forever, they love, care for, support and hold onto each other even tighter to withstand it all.

Chapter 14 - Will be posted soon.

__________

Read chapters 1-13 are available on AO3.

Continue reading on AO3

[missasahina]

Several days after #007 Side Masaomi - Book 2, Season 1

The story is below, in English. The following text in spanish is my commentary.

La historia de Masaomi es solo 8 paginas, pero en el afán de traducir con la mayor fidelidad posible he tardado mucho. ¡Finalmente terminé!

La he traducido a inglés, no la voy a volver a traducir al español porque, honestamente, no puedo más. Para leerla en español simplemente hay que copiar el texto en el traductor, los resultados son bastante buenos. Por otro lado, si la traducción al inglés parece extraña, está hecha de japonés a inglés con el traductor; leyendo desde el japonés por mi cuenta he ajustado la traducción lo más posible y he cambiado algunas oraciones que sonaban poco naturales. Voy a dejar el PDF con el texto original en japonés por si alguien quiere tomarse el trabajo de traducirlo otra vez lol.

La historia extra de Masaomi no aparece en el anime, pero si en el juego con algunos cambios. El contexto es: Después de la boda de Miwa y Rintaro, Masaomi lleva a Ema (a quien en la novela nunca nombran, he de decir) y a Wataru a casa en auto. La boda, la situación con Kaname, la situación con Subaru, las preguntas de Natsume dejan a Ema muy sensible. Mientras maneja, Masaomi le pregunta sobre qué va a hacer con el ramo; cuando Miwa lanzo su ramo fue Ema quien lo atrapo, y esto lleva a la conversación de porque él aún no está casado. Masaomi le cuenta que cuando su padre murió Wataru era muy pequeño, por lo que no recuerda a su padre y siendo Masaomi quien más se parece a su padre, él decidió tomar ese papel en la vida de Wataru. Así el tiempo paso y ahora tiene 30 y está soltero, lo que el mismo considera un poco patético. Esto hace a Ema pensar en que ella no conoce el rostro de su madre y se pone a llorar aunque intenta contener las lágrimas, le dice que la hace feliz saber que Wataru no se sentirá como se siente ella gracias a Masaomi. Masaomi la abraza gentilmente y le promete que él estará siempre a su lado para intentar aliviar su soledad, aunque sea un poco.

En la novela, el resumen del capitulo: A Masaomi se le hace complicado hablar con Ema para decirle que va a asistir a un omiai. El siente que estaria rompiendo su promesa de estar a su lado para siempre. Le pide ayuda a Kaname para decircelo, pero una vez que le dicen Ema no tiene ningun problema con ello e incluso está feliz por él...

omiai: encuentro de matrimonio concertado. +info en el link.

Texto en ingles/ English text below:

That day, unusually, she stayed in the living room even after she had finished cleaning up after dinner. 

(Oh, maybe this is my chance)  

That thought crosses my mind.  

In fact, even though we live in the same apartment building, we don't often have the chance to see each other. 

When I get busy working at a hospital, I find it difficult to come home and end up working 24 hours a day. 

Even if that wasn't the case, my days off tended to be irregular, so it was quite difficult to find an opportunity to talk to her. 

.... I'm the only one who thinks that way, 

and when I told Ukyo, 

Ukyo: “Masaomi-niisan is not very good at managing his time.” 

I was afraid he would get angry, so I told Kaname, 

Kaname: "Isn't it just a question of feelings?"  

I'm sure that would just be dismissed. 

--Anyway. 

Right now, we're both in the living room. 

Plus, it looks like she has some free time. 

(Great. I'll tell her tonight.) 

That's what I was thinking when I walked towards her. / Approached her 

Masaomi: "Hey." 

"...Haha~" 

She yawned. 

Perhaps because she was tired, she yawned so loudly that her pharynx was clearly visible. 

Masaomi: ".......Ah" 

"......Huh" 

Time stops. I can see her cheeks gradually turning red. 

(Um, well) 

What should I do in a situation like this? 

Smiling would feel strange, laughing would be wrong, and ignoring her would be unnatural. 

 For a moment, my mind went blank, and I couldn't say anything. 

"... I'm so sorry!" 

But then, she apologized to me first. 

Masaomi: "Oh, well, you know, there's really nothing to apologize for..." 

This can't go on like this. Anyway, I have to say something. 

Masaomi: "Ah, you see." 

I tried saying that anyway. 

"Y-yes." 

She answered while covering her mouth with one hand. 

...No good. 

As I watched that gesture, I became more and more confused. 

Anything is fine. Just something that you think she'll be interested in. 

Masaomi: "Um, well... I want to ask about games." 

I blurted that out before I realized it. 

"Huh?" 

She looked at me with a puzzled expression. ...But those eyes weren't accusatory. 

Masaomi: "Ah... well... you see." 

Inwardly, I felt a little relieved as I connected the words. 

Masaomi: "Actually, Wataru wanted to play a game..." 

" Wataru -chan?" 

Masaomi: "Uh, yeah. I was thinking, maybe you could find something, because... I have no idea what would be good." 

"Oh, I see." 

Masaomi: "So, I was wondering if you could help me..." 

"Shall I bring it?" 

She suddenly said that. 

Masaomi: "Huh?" 

"I have something good. I'll bring it over right away." 

Masaomi: "Um... well..." 

I give up. 

I never expected to get such a reaction. But now I can't say that I just blurted something out. 

Masaomi: "I-I'm glad to hear that. But isn't it bothersome?" 

"No way, not at all. Oh, by the way, Masaomi-san, why don't you come and play too? It's a game that can be played by three people." 

Masaomi: "Oh... is that so? Okay, just a little then." 

"Okay. Just wait!" 

She ran out of the living room. In the end, the three of us - me, her, and Wataru - spent the night playing games. 

....... 

(Hmm, what should I do?) 

A few days later, one afternoon, I was feeling a bit lost and eating lunch alone in the kitchen. 

(I never thought I'd have so few opportunities.) 

I opened the photo album on the table. There was a picture of a woman dressed in formal attire. 

(As expected, it would be bad to say it later. Somehow, today...) 

While I was thinking about this, I suddenly heard a loud voice from behind me. 

Kaname: "Whoa, who is this beautiful woman?!?" 

I turned around and saw Kaname standing there. It seemed he had been asleep until just a moment ago. His eyes were blurry, as if he had just woken up. 

Masaomi: "Good morning, Kaname." 

Kaname: "Masami-nii, are you off today?" 

Masaomi: "Yeah, I just finished the night shift. I have something to do tomorrow, so I took today off to prepare for it. What about you?" 

Kaname: "Me? I'm off today. I drank too much yesterday. It was Friday, so..." 

Masaomi: "...Ah, I see." 

Since it’s Kaname, I'm sure they were having fun making a fuss. 

Masaomi: "Did you find a nice person?" 

Kaname: "Ah, nothing like that, we were just hanging out. They were really fun, but that's all." 

Kaname glances at the photo in the album again. 

Kaname: "But, well...how should I put it, isn't she surprisingly beautiful? Is she an acquaintance?" 

Masaomi: "Yeah, I guess so." 

Kaname: "Really? Can you introduce me to her next time?" 

Masaomi: "Yeah, that's fine." 

Kaname: "Ah, are you sure? By the way, who is that?" 

Masaomi: "Oh, that person is..." 

Just as I was about to say that, as if struck by lightning, an idea flashed in my mind. 

Masaomi: "That's it!" 

Maybe because I suddenly yelled out loud, Kaname looked surprised. 

Masaomi: "Hey, Kaname, I have a favor to ask of you. Can you help me?" 

Kaname: "...M-Masa-nii?" 

Kaname looked at me with a doubtful expression. 

.......

"What is it, Kaname-san?" 

A few hours later, she came into the living room. She had just come home from school and was still in her uniform. 

Kaname: "Oh, I'm sorry, little sister." 

"I came home in a hurry because you said it was important. It's really important, isn't it?" 

She said, as if to emphasize. Kaname's face twisted in a slightly sad expression. 

Kaname: "It’s not like that, little sister. You could trust me a bit more, wouldn't you?" 

"...I would like to do that if possible." 

That's a surprisingly harsh thing to say. Even Kaname was smiling bitterly. 

Kaname: "...Well, it's okay, imoto-chan will understand eventually. More importantly, it's actually Masa-nii who has something to tell little sister." 

"Masaomi-san?" 

She turns to me. 

Kaname: "Come on, Masa-nii." 

Kaname urges me on. He's made all the effort to set things up for me, so I can't let this opportunity go to waste. 

Masaomi: "Yeah, that's right. I wanted to talk to you sooner, but I just couldn't put it into words. So I asked Kaname for reinforcements." 

"Oh. Reinforcements... huh?" 

She looks puzzled. 

I hurried on. 

Masaomi: "Well, there was something I wanted to talk about, but I didn't know how to start the conversation. So I was totally stuck. You see, the point is that he's used to things like this, or rather he's good at treating women..." 

“W-what are you talking about?” 

She gave me a suspicious look. 

(Oh no, I have no choice. I'll just say it all at once.) 

I take a deep breath and say it. 

Masaomi: "You see, I actually have an omiai tomorrow." 

"Eh?" 

Her voice aches in my heart. 

Masaomi: "I'm sorry I didn't tell you until the last minute... This is the person..." 

While saying this, I handed her the album. 

"Wow..." 

She looked inside and let out a sigh of awe. 

"She's really beautiful... What kind of person is she?" 

Masaomi: "She's the daughter of the chairman of the hospital where I work." 

"What!" 

She cried out. She must have been very surprised because her voice was trembling. 

"The chairman's daughter?!?!? You have an omiai with her? Where did you meet her?!?!" 

Masaomi: "It was a while ago when I was on the night shift, there was an emergency. It was a young woman who had choked on something." 

I continued to explain as I got the album back. 

Masaomi: "It would have been easy to remove it with open surgery, but the person accompanying her said that the patient was a famous singer, and we shouldn’t under any circumstance cut her throat." 

"And so?" 

Masaomi: "I had no choice, so I took charge and tried a method that didn't require surgery. I was a little worried, but fortunately, it worked." 

"Wow... Masaomi, you're amazing." 

Masaomi: “Well, it’s not that much..." 

To be honest, I feel a little embarrassed when I get praised so much. 

(I don't like the sight of blood... so if I can avoid surgery, that's the best thing.) 

Masaomi: "... anyway." 

I cleared my throat lightly before continuing. 

Masaomi: "When everything went well, the person accompanying the patient was even happier than the patient himself. She said that I was the pride of our hospital or something. I thought that was a strange thing to say, but it turned out that the person accompanying the patient was the daughter of the hospital's chairman." 

"That's what happened." 

Masaomi: "After that, the daughter came to the hospital occasionally. We used to talk occasionally. Then, the other day, the manager suddenly called me and told me about the omiai." 

"I see..." 

Masaomi: "I'm sorry I didn't tell you until now." 

I bowed to her. 

Masaomi: "She's the president's daughter, and the manager is the intermediary, so I couldn't refuse. Do you understand?' 

"Of course." 

Her face lit up with a smile. 

"That's a great offer. There's no reason to refuse it." 

Masaomi: "Huh?" 

This time it was my turn to be surprised. 

Masaomi: "Aren't you angry?" 

"Why would I be angry?" 

Masaomi: "N-no... that's fine. For some reason, I thought you would." 

"That's not true. I'm praying that it all works out!" 

Masaomi: "...I-I see, thank you." 

After she left, I looked back at Kaname. 

Masaomi: "She didn't seem to mind at all. I guess I wasted my time worrying about it." 

Kaname: "Well, I don't think it's a question of profit or loss. But Masa-nii, was that, okay? " 

Masaomi: "Yeah. I'm glad I was able to talk to her before tomorrow." 

My worries were resolved, and I felt my heart lighten. 

(Huh?) 

--At that moment. 

(What is this?) 

I certainly felt a great sense of relief. But somewhere in my heart, something was bothering me. 

That sense of discomfort hadn't existed until just now. However, I feel it clearly now. 

(...What's wrong with me?) 

....... 

—The next day. 

As I was walking along the road, which was becoming engulfed in dusk, my cell phone rang. 

Masaomi: "Hello." 

Kaname: "Masa-nii." 

I heard Kaname's voice. 

Masaomi: "Oh, Kaname. What's wrong?" 

Kaname: "Masa-nii, where are you now?" 

Masaomi: "I'm near the hotel. I just finished the omiai, I was thinking about going home now..." 

Kaname: "Oh, wait a minute." 

Kaname interrupts me. 

Kaname: "I want to talk for a bit. Let's meet at Kichijoji station. How long will it take to get there?" 

Masaomi: "Yeah... about 40 minutes." 

Kaname: "Okay. See you later then." 

Then the call went off. 

(What was going on? Kaname's voice sounded very serious though...) 

.......

Kaname took me to a bar located near Kichijoji station 

It was quite spacious, even though it was underground. Perhaps because it was early in the day, there were few customers, and it was quiet. 

Kaname: "How is it here?" 

Masaomi: "Yeah, it looks quite relaxing." 

At Kaname's urging, we sat at the edge of a large table. Kaname ordered a whiskey on the rocks, and I asked the bartender to make me a sweet cocktail. 

Kaname: "So..." 

After a quick toast, Kaname said. 

Kaname: "So what happened in the end?" 

Masaomi: "You mean the omiai?" 

Kaname: "Yeah. I mean, what else would I ask about?" 

Masaomi: "Yeah, that's right. She was a really nice person." 

Kaname: "So... it’s decided." 

Masaomi: "That's right. I had decided on the answer before we met." 

Kaname: “Well, yeah, I get it." 

Kaname tilts his glass. 

Kaname: "It's just perfect. So, what are your plans?" 

Masaomi: "Plans?" 

When I asked him again, Kaname looked dumbfounded. 

 Kaname: "Well, I mean, engagement ceremony, wedding ceremony, etc..." 

Masaomi: "W-wait a second. What are you talking about, Kaname?" 

Kaname: "I mean, Masa-nii's wedding..." 

Masaomi: "What?!?!?!" 

I couldn't help but shout out loud. 

Masaomi: "When did I say I was getting married?" 

Kaname: "Well, I mean..." 

Kaname was unusually at a loss for words. 

Kaname: "You said it earlier, you've decided." 

Masaomi: "Yeah, I planned to turn it down from the beginning." 

Kaname: "What?!" 

Kaname's mouth drops open. 

Kaname: "Are you going to refuse?" 

Masaomi: "Yeah. Because if I get married, I'll have to leave home, right? Then I won't be able to be by her side." 

Kaname: "What... does that mean..." 

Masaomi: "I made a promise." 

I said. For some reason, it felt like my voice was stronger than usual. 

Masaomi: "On the way back from our mother's wedding. I told her I'd be by her side forever. I can't break that promise." 

Kaname: "She... are you talking about imoto-chan...?" 

Masaomi: "Of course." 

I nodded. 

Masaomi: “Who else would it be?” 

Kaname: "Wait a minute, Masa-nii. If you were going to refuse, you didn’t have to tell imoto-chan that you were going to an omiai, right?" 

Masaomi: "But...I don't want to keep a secret from her." 

Silence fell. Kaname stared at me for a while, then he let out a big sigh. 

Kaname: "Ah... so that's how it is. Wow, I'm surprised. I see, I can't believe Masa-nii... haaa." 

He sighs repeatedly. 

Masaomi: "What's wrong, Kaname?" 

Kaname: "No, don't worry about it. I was just surprised to find a rival in an unexpected place." 

Masaomi: "Rival?" 

I have no idea what he's talking about. 

Kaname: "But...surprisingly, it's the ones who don't have awareness that are the toughest." 

Just as Kaname was muttering these words to himself, I received a call on my cell phone. 

Masaomi: "Hello." 

"Oh, is this Masaomi-san?" 

It was her call. 

Masaomi: "Yeah. What's wrong?" 

"Um... how was your day?" 

Masaomi: "Yeah, it's over. I had to decline." 

"What?!" 

The tone of the voice that came from the phone changed. 

"Oh, is that so? Sorry, I thought it was decided..." 

(...Huh? Why did everyone think that?) 

“So, I ended up baking a cake to celebrate...” 

Masaomi: "Oh, that's right. It's fine, don't worry about it. Right, let's eat it together. I'll be home soon, so could you cut a slice for me?" 

"Yeah, but..." 

Masaomi: "It's okay. I'll eat it since you baked it." 

I hung up the phone and turned to Kaname. 

Masaomi: "Let’s go home. She baked a cake. Let's all eat it together." 

Kaname: "...I'm fine." 

Kaname said. 

Kaname: "I'm going to drink a bit more here, so you go home first. You and imoto-chan can have the cake together." 

Masaomi: "Just the two of you? Kaname, that's weird." 

Kaname: "It's fine, just do it. I'll give it to you for today." 

Kaname didn't say anything more but sighed again and sipped his glass. 

I left the bar, wondering about Kaname's behavior. 

When I went outside, a pleasant breeze was blowing. 

(Ahh, that feels good.) 

Come to think of it, the vague feeling of unease I had when I told her about the omiai has completely disappeared. 

(Okay! Let's go home.) 

I started walking through the streets of Kichijoji. She was waiting for me at home. Thinking about that made me walk faster. 

Personalmente me gusta mucho esta historia, Masaomi no es un personaje especialmente prominente y nunca hace ningun movimiento romantico sobre Ema. Claro esta, es mucho mayor que ella lol, pero tiene una personalidad gentil e inocente hasta cierto punto. Me inspira mucha confianza 🫠 trust issues where?

He añadido ilustraciones del comentario de la ilustradora, no tienen nada que ver con la historia, pero son hermosas.

PDF, japanese text:

[shetheyshenanigans]

After an UNGODLY amount of time I have finished my prompt for @911actionforgaza !

It's prompt 1481, based on the crossover episode and it's for @ anglverses on Twitter and @sirensbreathe here who I think has changed their Tumblr name but I'm not sure what to, so if anyone could lmk that would be great lol

anyways. here's the fic

Wildfires successfully extinguished, or at least tempered down, it’s time for the 118 to go home. Unfortunately, the highway out of Austin heading to Los Angeles is still completely shut down with debris, and while Eddie knows a couple of back roads that could at least get them to El Paso and clear highways, they’re nowhere near big enough to fit a two tonne truck.

They’ll have to wait until the road is cleared, but until then, they’ve been generously offered the spare rooms of various 126 firefighters as most of the hotels are now full of evacuees. Hen had taken up Nancy on her offer, which only scares Eddie a little bit, Martins is gone with Mateo and Captain Strand, and now Buck and Eddie are being led by TK up to his own apartment, one he shares with his boyfriend, a cop Eddie didn’t get the chance to meet during the fires.

“Carlos should be home soon, but I’ll make a head start on dinner. Is chicken and pasta good with you? I figure you’re as hungry as I am, and there’s no way I’m making it another hour without food.” TK says, showing them the spare room.

It’s a king size luckily, so even Buck’s horrifically long legs will fit. They’ve shared before, during quarantine with Hen and Chim downstairs, and it’s hopefully only for a night, so Eddie resolves to ignore his inconvenient love realisation and pretend it’s the exact same thing as quarantining at Buck’s place.

“That sounds amazing. Is there anything we can do to help with dinner?” Buck asks, dropping his bag on the left side of the bed. Eddie leaves his on the right side, studiously ignoring the fact even their preferred sleeping sides are complementary. Buck would fit into his life so perfectly but that doesn’t mean there’s a spot for Eddie in his life too.

“Not at all! Our kitchen is tiny anyways, we’d only be in each other’s way. There’s a bathroom through here if you guys want to clean off.” TK says, heading back to the kitchen.

“You can shower first, I need to call Chris, let him know I’ll be late.” Eddie says fishing for his phone in his pockets.

“Of course, tell him Buck says hi.” The man in question already rummaging for his shampoo.

The call with Chris settles him the way his son always does, the invisible line of tension Eddie always carries disappearing when he knows Chris is alright. It’ll reappear once he hangs up, a constant thread of his being devoted to his son, but for now, Chris tells him about his day and Eddie relaxes.

Once Buck emerges from his shower, Eddie quickly rinses off, hearing the front door click and a greeting ring through the apartment as Carlos arrives home.

TK must’ve found time for his own shower, hair curling damply as he plates up dinner for the four of them, skilfully waving away every offer of help.

“I don’t think we met earlier, but I’m Carlos. TK says you’re from Los Angeles?” Carlos says and Eddie almost doesn’t hear him, entirely absorbed in finally getting to eat.

“Yep, the 118 firehouse in the city. I’m Buck, this is Eddie, who is actually a good ole Texas boy.” Buck says for the both of them, smiling at Carlos. Eddie viciously ignores the pang of longing in his heart.

“So, you and my boy here stole a fire truck?” Carlos asks, eyes sparkling with amusement. TK smirks, clearly a little proud of his achievements and Carlos rolls his eyes fondly. It’s clear they’re comfortable around each other, love flowing back and forth in an easy rhythm and Eddie is inordinately jealous.

Buck launches into the story, TK interjecting with his own perspective, and Eddie leans back, perfectly content to watch Buck’s animated movements, his pasta ignored as he illustrates their rescue of Hen and Captain Strand. Every now and then Buck will remember his hunger and take a bite, TK continuing the story, until he jumps back in, as enthusiastic and committed and alive as ever.

God but Eddie could watch him forever and never get sick of it.

“So, how long have you been in love with him?” TK asks casually and Eddie chokes on his water. He looks frantically for Buck before remembering he’s in the spare room on the phone with Maddie.

“Was I not supposed to ask that? Because unfortunately for you, it’s pretty obvious and I’ve only known you for two days.” TK says and Carlos disguises his laugh as a cough, reaching for his own water.

“It’s’ – we’re not- what?” Eddie splutters, knowing full well they can see straight through his denials.

Carlos raises his eyebrows and Eddie cracks. Any other day, he’d have kept his secrets locked up, but after the day he’s had? He’s just about able to keep his eyes open, there’s no way he can keep up a lie right now, not even to himself.

“Years, really. I only realised it recently but when I thought about it, it’s been a long time coming.” He admits, slumping back into the ridiculously comfy couch.

“But you’re not together?” TK confirms, as if he’s surprised. Eddie must really be obvious.

“Buck doesn’t- I’m his best friend. Not, not his boyfriend.” He says morosely.

“It doesn’t seem all that one-sided to me.” Carlos says. “You two are so comfortable together and it’s clear you mean a lot to each other. Hell, from the stories at dinner, you’re practically raising your son as partners.”

“I guess we are. There’s no one in the world that I would trust with Christopher more than I trust Buck. Buck’s just so… it’s hard to describe him. When I first joined the 118, he was all aggressive and macho but as soon as we pulled out that grenade, it was like he chose me as one of his people. He changed my life for the better.” Eddie says, unable to put into words just how incredible of a person Buck is.

“Sounds like he’s someone you don’t want to lose.” TK observes and Eddie nods miserably.

Buck is too important to me to lose over some feelings. I’d rather have him as my best friend than confess to him and lose what we have now.” Eddie says. It’s the truth, as much as it hurts.

“You’re sure it’s unrequited? Because from what we’ve seen, I don’t think you’re alone in wanting your relationship to change.” Carlos says gently and Eddie sighs.

“I love Buck. I do. In an ideal world? I would marry him in a heartbeat. He could adopt Chris, and we could raise him together, and hell, he’s incredible with children, did you see him with those kids at the evacuation site? Every time I see him with a baby, I want to adopt a million kids with him. I want to grow old with him.” Eddie says helplessly, unfiltered words finally tumbling out of his mouth.

TK snorts inelegantly.

“That is just- honestly, that’s incredible. But are we the people you need to be telling this to?” He says a strange glint in his eyes.

“What, confess to Buck? What would I even say? What would he say? “Oh yeah, Eddie, we should totally get married and ruin our friendship, I love you too?” No, I will be taking this to my grave.” He says solemnly before he hears a noise behind him.

“Hey, Eddie we should totally get married. Did you know I’m in love with you?” Buck says, leaning against the wall like he always does, no consideration for Eddie’s heartrate and general wellbeing.

“How long have you been standing there?” He asks weakly but he knows Buck’s heard it all.

“Eh, long enough to know you should really get some exposure therapy before Maddie and Chim have their baby.” Buck shrugs and Eddie wonders if TK and Carlos have a shovel handy. If he just digs a quick grave now, he can lie down in it and escape this conversation entirely.

“Hey, hey, Eds, no need to panic. This conversation is pretty overdue huh?” Buck says and Eddie abruptly remembers to breathe.

“Well, we’re gonna leave y’all to it.” Carlos says brightly, and he and TK scamper off to their room. Eddie spares a thought to remind himself to get them a nice gift to make up for all of his feelings.

Buck takes the armchair beside the couch, sitting on the edge of it so his legs tangle with Eddie’s, perched miserably on the end of the couch as he is.

“Eddie, look at me, okay? Whatever you’re thinking right now, you’re probably wrong.” He says beloved voice as kind as always.

Currently, Eddie is thinking that he’s just blown up the best friendship he’ll ever have. Sure, Buck had announced his presence by saying he loved Eddie, but he’d also just been repeating Eddie’s own words. What if he hadn’t actually meant it and just didn’t want to embarrass Eddie in front of TK and Carlos? Well, more than he’d already embarrassed himself.

Buck’s never shown any interest in him, that Eddie can see anyways. The only time he can think of is that moment in his kitchen, after the lawsuit and everything involved, Eddie’s fighting and Christopher’s nightmares, the one moment of levity he’d truly had in days.

He knows they’ve always been a little more devoted to each other than most friends, but can’t the same thing be said of Hen and Chimney? Their job doesn’t exactly lend itself to casual connections.

But he’s said it now. Buck knows. He can’t take it back so he’s just going to have to see it through.

“I don’t want this to change things.” Eddie says, resolving to face up to it. He’s been a coward before, but Buck deserves better from him, the same way Shannon did.

“What if it does? What if I want us to change?” Buck says and Eddie’s veins turn to ice.

God, he’s fucked it all up, hasn’t he? Eddie Diaz is just not made for love. He never should’ve thought otherwise, not after Shannon and how wrong everything had gone.

Buck must notice him spiralling because he catches him, like he always does.

“Eddie, I mean it as a good change. I love you, as my best friend obviously, but I’m in love with you.” He says gently but it hits Eddie like a truck all the same.

“Buck- you- what if we don’t?” Eddie doesn’t even know what he’s trying to say.

“What if we don’t work out? Then we go back to being friends and I’ll care about you just as much. Romance or no romance, you’re my best friend Eddie. I couldn’t do this job without you, and if I’m honest, I couldn’t do life without you, in whatever way we know each other. If we try and it doesn’t work, you’re not going to lose me.” Buck says and Eddie’s fears melt away.

He could still fuck this up. Buck says he won’t leave Eddie, but him and Shannon were tied together by an entire child, and she still left because of him. But somehow, he believes Buck, if only because his entire life is in LA. Buck would never leave the 118, even if Eddie was still there. He wouldn’t leave Maddie, not again, and judging by the tsunami, he would never leave Chris without a fight.

There’s no fucking way he’s telling his parents about Buck though. A solid chunk of Shannon’s hardships in their marriage came directly from his parents interference and he can’t let it happen twice.

“You really want to try a relationship with me? I come with a lot.” Eddie says one last time because it’ll break his heart if Buck says he loves him and doesn’t mean it. Buck would never be that cruel on purpose, but Eddie never knows when to stop doubting a good thing.

“Eddie, we already know each other to the bone. Nothing you can say or do will scare me away.” Buck says, although Eddie can hear a slight insecurity in his voice.

Fuck. Buck confessed his love and all Eddie’s been doing is doubting him.

“If you want me as badly as I want you, then I’m willing to try. I’ve been in love with you for years, Buck. I’d die a happy man if I could have you.” Eddie swears and the hint of doubt in Buck’s eyes clears away.

“You already had me, Eds. Just kiss me already.” He whispers and Eddie’s never been able to deny Buck anything, especially his heart, so he does.

He kisses Buck like he’s running out of air and Buck is oxygen, like he needs him to survive. He kisses Buck like a five alarm fire, all hands on deck, and Buck kisses him back with the force of a high rise blaze, consuming every inch of Eddie’s bones.

It sears him to the core, incinerated by the heat of Buck’s love and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Eddie could stay there forever, he really could, but if his Abuela could see him now, she’d congratulate him for finally making a move and then whack him upside the head for being so rude to their hosts.

It’s only his profound gratefulness for TK and Carlos’ incredible meddling that entices him to break away from Buck but the way Buck whines and immediately tries to chase after his lips almost makes him break.

“Wait, Buck,” He gasps, and Buck unfortunately gets the message, pulling away from him.

“Everything okay?” He asks, concerned blue eyes reminiscent of a baby seal.

“Just- TK and Carlos, we can’t- “Eddie stumbles, words still fleeting as he tries to recover from the flames.

Buck gets him instantly, though, no words needed.

“Of course baby. God, Abuela would kill us if she knew.” Buck says and Eddie is struck by how intertwined his life is with Buck’s. It’s the only explanation he has for what he says next.

“Come home with me.”

Buck laughs, as if Eddie’s joking but he’s dead serious.

“I do plan on going back to LA, we’re literally leaving tomorrow.” He says eyes dancing with mirth.

“I mean the house. Come home, to me and Christopher, come home with me.” Eddie says and Buck, God, Eddie doesn’t know how to describe the look in his eyes.

He remembers abruptly, the bitten off words about Buck’s parents, the total lack of their presence even when the ladder truck exploded and Maddie’s kidnapping happened, how in all of Buck’s early stories, he seemed to be out of his house by eighteen.

“Isn’t that a little fast?” Buck asks hesitantly and Eddie swallows the instant pang of rejection, forcing himself to think logically.

“Buck, I’ve practically given you my son.” He says, and abruptly remembers he has in fact, legally given Buck his son in the event of his death but continues with his speech anyways.

“You’re over all the time anyways, Chris would be ecstatic to have you there, I love you, and you’re already part of our family. Come home with me.” Buck looks stunned, and Eddie has no clue why.

Of course Buck is part of his family. What else would he be to them otherwise?

“Eddie, I can’t just- what do you mean I’m family?” Buck says helplessly.

“You are. My Abuela has practically adopted you as a grandson, Chris treats you like another parent, you do so much for us. We’ve basically been in a relationship for months without confirming it.” Eddie meant what he said last night. If he had a ring, he would have already proposed.

“Y-you’re my family too, Eds, you have to know that. But what if you get sick of me?”

“Evan. There is no world where I could ever get sick of you, and if I ever dare to say that, book me in for a CT scan.” Eddie says, knowing from the tsunami that if he calls Buck by his given name, he’ll know Eddie means business.

“But... I love you Eddie, this isn’t me trying to get out of this, but I know I can be too much. I-I’m exhausting sometimes you know that. I was too much for my parents, for Abby, for Ali. I don’t want to be too much for you.”

That stupid fucking grocery store. Eddie wishes he’d burned it down.

“Buck, I’m going to spend the rest of my life making up for that stupid, stupid word. I was so angry then, at the whole damn world. And God, I hate to say it, but I was scared too. Shannon had just died, I nearly lost you in the bombing, and then you and Chris in the tsunami- the idea of losing you again, to the lawsuit, I couldn’t handle it. I should never have called you exhausting. I- “Eddie breaks off, knowing what he wants to say but the words keep slipping away from him.

“Buck, I can’t imagine a life without you in it. You knew me for a week, and you called Carla, and then the skateboard too, and when Abuela broke her hip, Buck, you’ve done so much for me. I should’ve known I’d fall in love with you the second you thought of the skateboard. I’ve always been told to put limits on my son, but instead of changing him to fit the world, you changed the world for him. You’re a fighter Buck, and there’s no one you fight for harder than your family. Let me fight for you.”

There are tears in Buck’s eyes, and Eddie knows for a fact there’s some in his too, but for once, he doesn’t care about whether or not he should cry. Buck is more important, Buck is always more important.

“Yes.” Buck chokes out, and it’s only a house, but Buck may as well have agreed to marry him, because Eddie is never letting him go now.

After the first night of sleeping with Buck wrapped in his arms, Eddie wonders how he ever slept without him. It certainly gives him the strength to deal with the unexpected blow of TK Strand perfectly psychoanalysing Eddie before he’d even put on the coffee.

“When I first met Carlos, I got in my own way. I didn’t think I deserved him, someone so good for someone as fucked up as I was. I thought he’d be stuck with me, that I couldn’t give him as much as he could give me. Eventually I realised that I was the only thing preventing us from being together, because I didn’t let him make the decision on whether or not I made him happy, I just decided I wasn’t worth it.” TK says unprompted as he fries an egg at the stove.

Eddie, leaning against the island as he waits for the coffee to finish, senses a conversation he might not be ready to have.

“You got through it.” He remarks, deliberately obtuse. He needs at least two sips of coffee before he’s ready to confront his probably unhealthy mental state.

“I did. And you will too, although I hope you’ll have an easier road. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned, is that I don’t get to decide if I’m deserving of Carlos. He thinks I’m worth it, and I know now that it hurts him when I deny that.” TK says and Eddie remembers the hurt look in Buck’s eyes when Eddie kept questioning him.

“He’s told me that it feels like I’m scared of him, that I think he’s a cruel enough person to think these awful things about me that I invented in my own head. If I call myself a useless fuck-up, it’s not exactly healthy, but it only hurts me. If I think that Carlos thinks that, that he’s only staying with me out of pity, then I’m hurting him instead.” He says, green eyes looking at him with such compassion, that Eddie has to look away and busy himself with the coffee.

“I know Buck’s a grown man, who makes his own decisions, romantic or otherwise but I just- I love him so much that I almost want to protect him from me. I don’t exactly have the best track record, and I don’t want to fuck up again, especially not with him.” He says hesitantly and TK smiles.

“You’re going to fuck up, Eddie. It’s inevitable, you’re only human. But Buck will fuck up too. You can’t put him on a pedestal when you’re meant to be partners. It’s pretty damn lonely up there, and it’ll only make him feel like he’s not allowed to make mistakes. Buck has a past too, probably has insecurities too. You’re both only human, Eddie. You’ve got to be in this together.” TK says and Eddie sighs.

“I know that, and I was so sure last night. He’s agreed to move in with me and Chris, and I’ve been there for so much of his life the last few years, and vice versa. I know what keeps him up at night, and he knows me, but I’m still… I’m still scared, and I don’t know how not to be.” Eddie admits, staring at his coffee so he doesn’t have to look at TK.

“It’s a process to be fair. And I’m coming at this two years down the line, so I know exactly how much work it took to get here. But Buck has decided you’re worth it, and I think you’re pretty set on him too.” TK says and Eddie groans. The man would make a killing as a psychologist.

“Have you ever considered switching careers?” He asks half-heartedly and TK laughs.

“You’re a good man, Eddie. You deserve to be happy, and so does Buck. If I can make it just that little bit easier for you, then I’m happy.”

“I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to repay the both of you. It might have been severely embarrassing to realise Buck had heard the absolute insanity I was spewing yesterday, but if he hadn’t, I never would have told him I loved him.” Eddie says sincerely.

He can tell that TK has been through a lot, and for him to come out the other side and be a person with such kindness is incredible to him.

He knows he can be bitchy, that he has a habit of covering hurt with anger, and that he certainly doesn’t talk about his feelings enough. Eddie’s trying to be better, for Chris, and now for Buck, but baring his past and emotions the way TK’s just done for him, still feels so incredibly hard.

“I’ve been where you are, Eddie. I don’t know you too well, but like recognises like. There’s no point in waiting for the other shoe to drop. You’ll only ruin your own happiness instead of enjoying it. Why worry about the future when you’ve got such a good present?” TK says, and something clicks in Eddie’s head. He’s not sure what it is, but he’ll figure it out eventually.

“Take each day as it comes type of shit then.” He says and TK laughs.

“You’ve got good days ahead of you, Diaz. You’ll be okay.”

Buck emerges from their room then, ungelled hair loose and curly. This is one of Eddie’s favourite versions of Buck, soft and calm, as if all the horrors he’s faced have never touched him.

Buck catches his eye and smiles, and it hits Eddie all over again that he gets to have this. That Buck is going to come home with him, and tomorrow he’ll wake up with Buck right beside him again, and the day after that too, and all the days left of his life.

“I think I will be.” Eddie says, still looking at Buck. “I really think I will.”

[blurglesmurfklaine]

time loop fic 👁️ VERY INTERESTING WOULD LIKE TO SEE IT

ONE DAY!!!! I have, in fact, started writing it but I am however an incredibly slow writer so do with that what you will!

I WANNA GO OFFFFD ABOUT THIS AU BUT ALSO DONT WANNA GIVE TOO MUCH AWAY BC J THINK ITS GOT SOME FUN TWISTS AND TURNS SO ILL SOUND OFF UNDER THE CUT

Si the premise is basically: season four shooting time loop. It’s from Eddie’s pov and the first day he goes about his day and then gets shot in a similar fashion as in canon and boom—wakes up the next day like “Hm. What a weird fuckin dream I had. Also all this deja vu is weird????”

He realizes pretty soon that he’s in a time loop and he doesn’t always get shot, but he does always die. It’s giving Happy Death Day. But for the gay wee woo show.

Anyhow, finally, someway somehow, he FINALLY survives an entire day. He hasn’t told anyone about the time loop at this point because this is Eddie Diaz we are talking about. He will keep his feelings and problems right here, and then one day he’ll die (it’s the same day just over and over again)

It’s the end of a long hard shift so Bobby lets them out early and Buck and Eddie go to the Diaz residence and… there keep being… Moments. Moments With Gravitas. And Signifcant Looks. And Buck is Very Close and Very Much In Eddie’s Space, but… Eddie can’t bring himself to close the gap between him and Buck. Because today isn’t like other days. He survived. So when he wakes up, he’ll have to deal with the consequences of ruining his friendship. He almost wishes this had happened before the time loop was about to close. Because there’d be no risk, so there’d be nothing holding him back.

So instead, he laughs it off, tells Buck he’s had one too many beers and takes another swig of his own. The clock strikes midnight. Everything goes fuzzy.

Eddie wakes up in his bed again, with the same Cindy Laupner song playing. And he just yells “FUCK”

Okay so. (He almost kissed Buck last night). Surviving the day didn’t break the loop. (Buck almost kissed him last night. Tonight. Whatever.) Then what will? (Hoooooly shit he almost kissed Buck).

As it turns out, Eddie is not as interested in figuring out what will break the time loop as he is in avoiding his feelings. He books a flight to El Paso and hangs with his parents for the day. Then stays home and cleans, learns to draw, literally ANYTHINGG except going to work. And then he takes Chris on an all day adventure, and of course Chris asks if his Uncle Buck can come. And of course Eddie has to oblige.

And they have a lovely day playing hooky together! Of course they did, why wouldn’t they? They’re best friends and NOTHING IS WEIRD. Why would any of it be weird. It’s only weird if Eddie makes it weird and it is sooooo not weird.

But it gets weird. Later at the Diaz residence when they have a repeat of the same Heavh Ass Moment. And it’s weird but Eddie decides FUCK IT because if he’s going to be stuck in this time loop he might as well his his best boy friend! And so he does. He kisses Buck. And Buck kisses back. Holy shit. Buck kisses him back.

The clock strikes midnight. Everything goes fuzzy.

Eddie wakes up in his bed again, with the same Cindy Laupner song playing.

But this time, he’s got a big ass grin on his face and when he walks into the firehouse, the first thing he says is yell, “Buckley! Get your ass down here!” And Buck, thinking there’s something wrong, runs down all concerned but Eddie just pulls him into the nearest closet and kisses the absolute sense out of him.

Then they have sex. Gay sex, to be sepcific. A looooooot of gay sex, every day that the loop resets they just be fuckin nasty. Matching each others freak. No it doesn’t make them gay. You can’t be gay in the time loop it doesn’t count.

Anyway. So. Eddie gets to know Buck’s body… intimately. Biblically, really. And he slowly learns all the things Buck likes and doesn’t like etc and he almost feels bad for Buck because he’s at a disadvantage, but it’s Buck and Buck is veeeeeeery good at sex so. It’s not like Eddie is really missing out on anything.

I keep thinking of this interaction, during foreplay, where Eddie is just being a gif damn fucking simp, melting like chocolate in Buck’s hands and says, “God I love it when you do that”

And Buck, being the cheeky little shit he is, grins and laughs, “Oh, don’t I know it”

And Eddie. Freezes. “Wait what?”

“What?”

“How would you—OH MY GOD? YOU TOO???”

“OH MY GOD????”

“HOW LONG??”

“A LONG FUCKIN TIME!!!”

And that’s how they find out the other is in the time loop :) not through any means of actual communication, but sex :)

The ending is a secret between god and someone else, not I. I’ll figure it out. Probably.