#be mean to her i will do terrible things to you

[themagicmusicman]

quick context: character im doing is shå; she is the girlfriend of angu, one of the main characters in neim’s worldbuilding project, kunirn. shå uses she/her, angu uses she/ her, kik (angu’s close friend/basically brother at this point lmao) uses he/xey 👍

1. i reckon she’s usually too busy beating people up to have other hobbies but like. does cooking count as crafting? she crafts. food lmao

2. this bitch might be trans but she wears the manliest man cologne lmfao like. whatever the kunirn equivalent of something tobacco, sandalwood and orange would smell like. man shite /fem

3. fuck yeah!!! that’s basically the main thing she does besides being gay and fighting people

4. mmmm not really, unless her and angu are baking together for the sillies (kik sometimes joins in too)

5. yeah!! she has the Ǎtrothang mark on her right shoulder (shown at the bottom of the post) as well as loads of others hjehekr

6. probably kik (angu’s friend n basically non blood brother) bcs xey seem like they would work the best under pressure and know first aid. all that shit yknow [update. neim told me that kik is canonically good at patching people up so i was right!]

7. bitch isnt scared of anything except her parents, and thats fairly normal i think. guys thats normal. right. ri-

8. yeah she probably has the weirdest collections of shit. stuff like bones, eyeballs, that kinda thing

9. she usually tries to just wait it out and continue whatever she’s doing, but when it gets so bad she can’t, she just leeches to angu until it goes away

10. not standing up to her parents’ bullshit :[

11. ehhhh probably not anything. canon but she seems like the kind of person who would

12. oh yeah shå has amazing style /gen this bitch dresses like the most butch lesbian. also she’s just hot lmao (evidence at tje bottom)

13. not in the slightest lmao

14. absolutely. it took her close to a year to open up to angu about her parent bs so. yeah just a bit

15. she’s just a silly lil guy. the sillies! silly and tiny and definitely doesnt have a really dark/horny sense of humour!

16. nope and nope :D

17. basically never. she stands by what she believes at doesnt bend for anyone

18. easier to become her enemy than her friend :3

19. you have to be pretty awesome she has trust issues lmao

20. meh not really seeing as her life in Ǎtrothang was. pretty traumatising

21. friends. friends for sure

22. never

23. n/a shes immortal /j (in other words doesnt think about dying ever)

24. most people are her enemies :3👍

25. uh morning routine, wake up and get on with the day. evening routine, go to bed and toss n turn until she eventually falls asleep

26. she’s her own hero (aka has no heroes (except maybe kik or angu but thats just her being gay lmao))

27. i mean. her meeting angu was pretty much a chance encounter and that changed her life drastically so!

28. # idontthinkgamingexistslmao

29. i’d want to be but she would scare me 😔

30. she doesn’t want to be famous. the less people who know her, the better

31. i would probably give her some sort of silly telepathic powers, she’d want invisibility

32. being afab (she doesnt mind the dick but she occasionally gets dysphoria thinking that she’s a Fake Woman because she has not biological booba (she is the most womanly woman i know))

33. oh yeah. i think angu, shå and kik would play silly ttrpgs the same way i play dnd with neim and my irl mates

34. terribly. she hides it well, but inside she’s struggling :[[[

35. in charge of her own destiny. fuck the dead gods she’s deciding her fate

36. yes and uh. for legal reasons no /hj

37. she doesn’t really like the gods, n chooses to just kinda. do her own thing lmao (same as angu but less Loud About It /lh)

38. she doesn’t dream (me core)

39. definitely!!! that sounds fun as shit!

40. she would be able to pull it out first try because shes a big strong jerboa. speaking of pulling ou-

41. she hates making mistakes so doesn’t learn from them as much as. promise herself not to make the same mistake again

42. yeh! she speaks mainly speaks rurleki (surprisingly. the language of rurlek) but also speaks atro from living in atrothang

43. fairly well, except mentally. afterwards she’ll freak out but she’s usually fine in the moment

44. only angu, not even kik i dont think

45. wing it gdejdbksbdkf

46. for sure, she probably lies quite a lot lmao

47. she would for quite a few people, ofc including angu and kik

48. in a heartbeat. revenge quest time babyyy!

49. nah she knows the difference. big difference (this is a threat 👍)

50. shes a trans lesbian jerboa!!!!! what is there to not love!!!!!!!!!

@neim-batteries-not-included haiiiiii :3

You've Got Questions and I've Got Answers OC Edition

Do they have any crafting hobbies?

Do they wear perfume/cologne? If so what scents do they prefer?

Do they enjoy cooking?

Do they enjoy baking?

Do they have any tattoos? If so what are they and do they have any special meaning?

If they were badly injured, and for whatever reason couldn't go to a hospital, who would they go to for help?

Do they have any unusual fears?

Do they collect anything? If so what and why?

When they're sick what do they do to feel better?

Do they have any regrets?

Do they have any addictions?

Do they have any sense of style? Regardless of the answer do they believe they have a sense of style?

Do they enjoy poetry?

Do they have a hard time opening up to people?

What kind of sense of humor do they have? Or do they have one at all?

Do they have or want kids?

How easily would they be convinced to do something that goes against their morals?

How easy is it to become their enemy?

How easy is it to become their friend?

Do they have a strong connection to their culture?

What is more important to them, friends or family?

Would they ever betray someone for money?

How would they want to die?

Do they have any enemies?

Do they have a daily/nightly routine?

Have they met any of their heroes? Did they regret it?

Has a chance encounter ever had an unexpected effect on them?

Are they a #gamer?

If they were real would you be friends with them?

If they had the chance to be famous would they take it? If they are famous would they rather they weren't?

What superpower would you choose for them and what would they choose for themselves? If they have one would they choose something else?

If they could change one thing about themselves what would it be?

Do they play ttrpgs? If so what kind of characters do they play? Or are they more likely to GM?

How well do they deal with grief?

Do they believe in fate or do they believe they are in charge of their own destiny?

Would they ever kill someone? Have they already?

Are they religious? If so do they have a strong sense of faith, are they uncertain, or are they somewhere in between?

What are their dreams like? Do they have any recurring dreams/nightmares?

Would they ever crash a wedding?

If they found a sword in a stone would they try to pull it out? How would they react to being able to pull it out or not?

Do they learn from their mistakes?

Can they speak multiple languages? If yes which all do they speak and why?

Can they handle stressful situations?

Who, if anyone, would they trust with their deepest secrets?

Do they plan in advance or just wing it?

Would they lie to get out of trouble?

Would they lie to get someone else out of trouble? Even if they would have to take that someone else's place?

How likely are they to go on a quest for revenge?

Do they have trouble keeping their enemies and their friends straight?

What is your favorite thing about them?

I love these so I figured I'd make one of my own! Just be sure that if you reblog this ask one or two of these to the person you reblogged from (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

[filthyguts]

sketchbook doodles as it’s 4 am so I thought maybe . I’d share my specific kira headcanons from my twit thread. Strap in its unda the cut and it’s a lot because I’m normal about him whatever

- HATES dogs due to an incident from when he was a kid, slight phobia

- I’m always 50/50 on this but I like the headcanon of kira potentially having a type of albinism, both his parents carried the gene

-he’s superstitious, on account of his mother being VERY superstitious, which probably didn’t help with any compulsions he was dealing with internally as a kid and into adulthood

-Liked to burn ants and bigger bugs with a magnifying glass as a kid

-surprisingly low pain tolerance

-Has never kissed another person (until he kissed shinobu on the cheek during BTD)

this extends to other things do with this information what you will *large sign in flashing lights that says VIRGINNNNNN*

-he does not know how to kiss. because he hasn't done it to an actual living breathing person, if he were too in earnest it's intense he's all teeth and tongue it would be literally terrible, but he does give sweet knuckle kisses

he can give a polite cheek kiss but if he had to do one of the lips he’d be cooked like it would be over for him he might bite your tongue off on accident(or..?) like ur better off sticking two fingers in his mouth and hoping for the best instead of getting your lip ripped off

-absolutely LOVES the smell of a fresh coat of nail polish, doesn't care that it makes him light headed

-super veiny hands and wrists one paper cut and it's over for him

-killer queen feels really cold to touch, but its arms and hands are hot

-average at playing the violin, does dabble from time to time in the quiet of his home but it's not very often

-yes we know he sucks fingers but he also likes to likely gnaw because he likes the texture on his teeth (not in a cannibal way though he thinks the idea of actually eating flesh is disgusting and irresponsable)

-just really loves neutrals and easter colors, designer suits all the way obvi

-when he first gained killer queen (I hc he was about 19) it always looked like this pic below with the exposed skull, only when he started to better mask his homicidal tendencies and urges did KQ gain its "mask"" and how we see it now

-despite his obvious feline affiliations he doesn't want a pet cat, the hair getting everywhere would drive him crazy (plus he's got killer queen

-kira didn't name killer queen himself, the only time it ever spoke to him was once. when he first manifested KQ after the arrow, Killed Queen told Kira it's name quietly while standing behind him, this scared the shit out of him, which sounds badass and spooky but was also probably subconsciously because Kira had a Queen CD he purchased a year prior that he liked WELL UR JUST SEVENTEEN AND ALL YOU WANNA DO IS DISAPPEAR

-occasionally drinks (that's canon) but meaning he likes to get winedrunk with his girlfriends on special occasions, or socially drinks when forced to go out for company outings, once came home decently hammered and almost phoned a travel agency to get a one way plane ticket to France to see the Mona Lisa ,

did not follow through with this when he woke up the next morning. The idea of seeing her at the Louvre is almost too much for him, feels like touching an exposed nerve.

-is 100% having sloppy makeout sessions with his severed hand girlfriend with candles, dim lighting, and mood records + thinks it's the peak of romance and gets giddy about it like someone with their first crush. Because he's insane

-can feel a phantom sense for Sheer Heart Attack, no pain due to its durability, but can feel the heat tracking in his hand and it readying to explode once it’s found its target. The tracking feels like a tingling sensation to him akin to a compass, like a pulling. and the explosion feels like a pleasant blossom of warmth

-loves the subtle flavor of different lotions (not freshly applied) that linger on the skin, salty fruity fragrant and slightly chemically is his favorite. 🤢

- tries to be incredibly Normal when going for routine dental checkups and cleanings for obvious reasons. When he was in his early 20s and didn’t quite have his urges and homicidal tendencies in check- one of his early victims was a dental hygienist

-his dad(yoshihiro) was into cheesy action movies and would often take kira when he was a kid to the theater, kira didn’t really care for it overall, the explosions were always cool though.

He doesn’t watch movies often but he doesn’t mind drama and romance.

-gets cold pretty easily

-scary good at walking quietly, like a cat stalking prey, when he started working at kameyu- he went to hand some documents to a coworker, startling them pretty bad bc they didn’t hear him come up- he IMMEDIATELY stopped doing that unconsciously after that incident, he makes sure his footsteps are “normal” are soft, not aggressive, but can hear heard enough.

- in the moment he likes the feeling of blood drying on his skin, but once the adrenaline wears off he’ll wrinkle his nose and be like >:// then hop in the bath to clean up(it’s usually not his bath)

-went to the same school Reimi Sugimoto attended in Morioh, never once did he hold a solid conversation with her, she only spoke to him briefly once about missed homework. But that’s not to say he didn’t know who she was. Eerie :(

- His SECOND favorite early spring, likes taking strolls along to coast with his girlfriends, enjoys the breeze.

But his FIRST favorite season is summer, when all the tourists come to Morioh. It’s easy for people traveling to simply disappear 😨

-aside from nail biting, had a compulsive skin picking habit as a child but this was quickly squashed by his mother who’d give him a swat on the wrist each time he was caught

-subconsciously wishes his girlfriends could grab him back- (this isn’t to say he wants to rest of the person though 🤢) a squeeze on the waist or shoulder would probably do him good but it’s not like he consciously yearns for this- it would shatter his otherwise perfect lived fantasy and setup of control 😒

-his favorite finger is tied between either the pointer or the ring finger. He likes being able to bend the fingers and do what he wants, relishes in the subtle crack of the joints 🤢

anddddd that’s all for now. hell isn’t hot enough for him

[sarahreesbrennan]

I remember reading in one of your blog entries (years ago??) that in the new book you were writing, the main character's *sister* had cancer. Does that mean that Alice was originally the main character of Long Live Evil? Was she going to go into the book to save Rae, instead of Rae going in to save herself?

How extremely kind of you to remember!

No, that was actually a YA murder mystery that I wrote while ill, revised while recovering, and sent out into the world where it died on submission. (Which means we sent it out to about 12 editors and the editor either said no, or said yes and took it to acquisitions - a group of people at the publisher including sales and marketing - and acquisitions said no.)

One editor told me she really wanted and really tried to buy it. Another person who worked in publishing (and has since changed jobs, or I wouldn’t share this) said the response at her acquisitions was - if you like this writer, find the next her (implications about health and youth were made).

I was terrified my agent was going to ditch me too, but she said ‘We’ll sell that one day, for now let’s write the next thing.’

I remember another writer telling me she missed my work that wasn’t a tie-in, and I felt ashamed to tell her it wasn’t that I wasn’t writing other things - it was that I couldn’t publish them.

The tie-ins meanwhile were paying the bills (they still are tbh!) and I was and remain so grateful for them. But I also really loved writing them - especially my Sabrina tie-ins, you don’t forget the first, and it reminded me I want to write horror and poly one day - and how they got me to love and sympathise with so many fandoms.

I see the burnout of caregivers all around me, and I wanted to write the story of one. But maybe I also wanted to take a step back from cancer. I didn’t think I did, at the time. I had a whole lot of things I tried writing before Long Live Evil, and I think some of them were really good. One of my critique partners gave me a lipstick with the same name as someone in the murder mystery. There was a romance novel another critique partner said was her favourite thing I’d ever written. But none had someone with cancer at the heart of the story.

And even though Rae isn’t much like me, maybe I had to start there. You can’t make real magic using someone else’s liver. Maybe I had to wait to be brave enough to use my own liver.

I do get requests for advice on how to cope with rejection of your writing, and I always worried I didn’t have anything else to say, but I suppose my example says - if you can, (and I know it’s hard, you feel so terrible at writing and so useless) (and you love the work you’ve done so much and you don’t see a way forward to loving the next thing) (but still, if you possibly can) write the next thing.

Even if the first thing sells, you’ll want the next thing one day. Writing the next thing is more writing practise, so it’ll make you better. Write the next thing.

Ultimately I’m really glad Long Live Evil was my comeback book. I think it needed to be. It took the time it took.

But maybe it was a shade of that past book (where the heroine’s sister with cancer was six, so not much like any of the Time of Iron characters) that made me think of the YA version of this book, which I always had in my mind as something I was intentionally hewing away from - a more straightforward book, a book that might have sold better - in which shy reader Alice was the hero. She’s the one with the suggestive hero name - Alice through the looking glass - the heroine looks, and the more projectable-upon personality. She’d get called annoying less often (though still some, because she’s a girl), partly because she is (with love, Rae knows I’m right) a genuinely less annoying person. Much kinder, much sweeter, and much better at in-depth reading! Her sister being in trouble would’ve been a backstory, a catalyst point, and - you’re totally right - a great motivation for her to get the Flower. Saving a family member is a much more sympathetic and heroic motivation than saving yourself and one I do love (the Hunger Games, Labyrinth, Mahy’s the Changeover, and I write it a lot!). I think Snarky While Tragically Dying Rae would’ve been a pretty popular side character, too. I think it would’ve been a good book! Just not mine.

I love your question because I love thinking about POV, and all the decisions that are the building blocks of a story. To me, the Alice centric Time of Iron is a version that exists. As are several versions of the Lia centric Time of Iron. And versions centring other characters exist to me, too. (Eric, absolutely.)

Speaking of POV musing, I think Rahela the wicked stepsister featured more in the musical than the book. If the Time of Iron series ever became a TV show (and at this point in time I think I’d rather a movie because it wouldn’t… get cancelled…) and I got to write it (don’t know why I would…) I would start with the beginnings for three characters about to go on a journey to somewhere strange to them: Key in the Cauldron, Rae in the hospital, and Vasilisa in the icelands. There are so many possibilities! And I really wanted the sense that there were so many possibilities, too.

But I wanted the chronically ill one to be the centre of the story, and for it to be her villain origin story, and to ask a lot of questions (hence a lot of villains!) about who gets villainised and why. And I thought hers, to my mind, would be the most fun of all the possible stories.

So that’s the one I made. But Long Live Evil has a lot of origins. Thank you for remembering one of them! I don’t think I would’ve dared tell the story, if things hadn’t worked out for me (so far, fingers crossed).

And I also tell it to be clear my publisher was taking a RISK with me and Long Live Evil, and I really appreciate that, and I’m so happy it’s worked out for them (again so far, early days, fingers crossed, etc).

I hope some writers - whether in the process of submission, rejection or making the choices that are the building blocks of story - find this helpful, and some readers find it interesting.

Let this be one of the universes in which your story is told.

[cumikering]

John Price x reader

2.5k | tw implied sui ideation, angst, comfort Thank you for being here today

John smiled to himself as he watched from the end of the bar. A few feet away, a group of three women chatted. The pub was packed, but it didn’t escape his notice that one in particular laughed so bright. The life of the party.

It was the same woman who ordered for the group, round after round. In fact, for other groups too. She’d sent rounds to random tables the past hour.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, but what caught his eye was how his battery was at 4%. A stupid idea to be out on such little juice, but the outing wasn’t planned – it was no more than an escape.

His thoughts were interrupted when the barman placed a pint next to the bourbon he’d been nursing. He opened his mouth to clarify-

“Courtesy of the lady,” he gestured to the very same woman.

John nodded at her, the corners of his eyes crinkled. She raised her own pint in acknowledgment. He finished the last of his bourbon and made his way over with the gift.

“Noticed you’ve been buying people drinks. What’s the occasion?”

“It’s Saturday night. No one should be drinking alone.” She sipped her beer.

The corners of his lips tugged into a smile. “But aren’t we all fundamentally alone?”

“Correct, but not here-“ She shrugged, teasing. “If you can help it.”

“Honest, is it your birthday?”

“Nah. Just happy.”

“Wanna be like you when I grow up.”

Her laughter was crisp yet warm. It caressed his ears despite the rumble of the establishment.

“Cheers, love.” He clinked his glass against hers and took a swig.

“Enjoy.” She followed suit before turning back to her friends.

He lingered, leaning against the bar as his gaze wandered across the room. Framed photos of vintage rugby and football stills crammed the wooden walls as they glinted under the deep yellow glow. The pub had seen better days, but from the size and chatter of the crowd, it didn’t seem like anyone cared.

He didn’t either. He didn’t pick pubs for its looks.

Behind his glass, he smiled again at the way the woman laughed so easily. She reminded him of a certain someone, a blue-eyed Scot who never stopped soaring despite his clipped wings. The one with the sun roaring in his boundless heart.

The one to do things because he was happy.

She downed her beer, and gave each of her girls a tight hug. She was leaving, but not for a short time it seemed. She turned to the barman to tap her phone on the receiver before handing him a thick wad of bills. The grin cracked his face in half as he thanked her profusely.

John took a step towards her. “Leaving already?” he asked, a little louder this time due to the swelling noise.

“It’s almost 12.”

“Are you Cinderella?”

She laughed. “Wish I was.”

“You can be. I’ll just have to make sure to find you again.”

“No, don’t think so. It’s my last night here.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m moving away.”

That explained the lengthy hugs. “Oh, where to?”

“Middle of nowhere. You wouldn’t know.”

John knew a thing or two about faraway places. He spent the entirety of that day in one.

“You’re really Cinderella,” he concluded and downed the rest of his pint. “Have you got a pumpkin chariot waiting outside?”

“It’s nothing that interesting.” She grinned. “Want to enjoy my walk before it’s terribly late.”

“I can walk with you, if you’d let me. You did say no one should be alone Saturday night.“

He was nosy, clingy – not himself. But after managing to crawl out of the hellhole he called his mind, this was his first conversation of the day and he wasn’t ready to wallow in his flat again just yet.

She shrugged. “Alright, why not.”

Once more, she hugged her friends, rubbing their backs. They were teary eyed, but she wasn’t - her smile as lively as ever. He tucked a few notes under his glass before following her out.

On the pavement, she took a lungful of fresh air in, chin tipped up towards the sky. He supposed the weather was decent. At least it wasn’t raining.

His boots thudded as he walked next to her. With her hands tucked in the pockets of her light jacket, she strolled with a little bounce to her step as she looked up at the stars. They were easy to miss, but they were present, and it was enough to bring a curve to her lips.

“I’m sorry, I just have to ask,” he said in amusement. “Why are you so happy?”

“Don’t have a reason not to be.”

Could you really be happy for no reason?

He chuckled. “You make me want to dance, and I don’t even dance.”

She glanced at him teasingly. “You should. Dancing is fun.”

“You know how to?”

“No, but you don’t need to know how.”

“Want to show me?”

She turned to him with a laugh. “What, now?”

He shrugged. Her joy was contagious.

“Well, first of all, you need music.”

“Lucky you, I got the whole world in my pocket.” He pulled out his phone and clicked the power button. Once, twice. It wouldn’t light up. “I take that back,” he said with a sheepish chuckle. “Your phone then.”

“If we find a busker.”

He barked out a laugh. “What are the chances at this hour!”

“Slim to none, but you’re probably luckier than me.”

John thought of the close calls he’d had: the gunshots to the shoulders or the bullets ricocheting off his helmet that sent his ears ringing, or the desperate jumps he’d executed from cold-blooded heights. But despite everything, the gift of life was still his. Still beating and fluttering in his rough hand, stained with blood that hadn’t washed off.

He hummed. “I like to think I’m pretty lucky.”

With wonder in her bright eyes, she continued to admire the sky.

Was the secret etched onto its darkness, behind the fading clouds and dying stars? Perhaps he could find out if he squinted, even that he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to look at.

Midnight London was nothing close to the desert skies he’d witnessed; the marbled ones with a handful of diamond shards splattered and swirled across them, the ones that made him feel like he was nothing but a speck of stardust waiting for its inevitable dissolve.

But perhaps the answer wasn’t in the beauty, but rather in what you made of what you had.

John glanced at her again because, well, a smile was a smile. If the unassuming sky could inflict something so beautiful, maybe it would work on him too. Even if just a tiny bit. If he’d just give it a chance.

As they entered her neighbourhood, she pointed out the establishments. This flower shop, the owner stopped her one day to give her a stalk of red orchid. That one cafe around the corner had amazing coffee and croissant, but she couldn’t bear waiting over an hour for them ever again. The chippy across it used to be her favourite kebab shop.

She chuckled. “I came in every week for years. It’s been three years and I still miss them.”

“You reckon they know how much their kebabs are loved?”

“Probably not. People never love enough until it’s gone.”

He considered.

“What does it matter anyway? The world runs on the width and height of love, not its depth.”

He shrugged. “True.”

He’d never taken the time to sightsee. It wasn’t really his thing, but a little tour of the city - the city she was leaving - made him feel nostalgic, like he too was leaving. Was he?

It didn’t feel like it took any time at all before she stopped at a building.

She turned to him with a wince. “Sorry, I’m not inviting you in.”

“I know. That’s fine.” John smiled, like the weight had been lifted off his chest, even if temporarily. “Today wasn’t the best for me, but you’ve made it better. So I wanted to thank you.”

She let her gaze drop, and for a second she looked… distraught, before recovering. “Well, you can come in for a bit.”

“Oh, don’t- I wasn’t trying to make you feel bad,” he quickly said, but she’d headed towards the stairs. He didn’t stop her.

She pushed open the door to a studio apartment, tiny even when it was nearly empty.

“Tea?” she offered, making her way to the kitchen.

Her bed was in the far corner, a small table with two chairs by its foot. Across it, stood a dresser with a guitar leaning against it. The walls and surfaces were bare. There was no clutter apart from an empty carboard box on the floor.

“Sure.”

He didn’t judge. He too barely had enough to fill out a box, but that was his room on base, not his flat.

“You’ve got everything packed, it looks like.”

She hummed, filling the kettle up.

“Can I use your charger for a bit so I can order a ride later?”

“Of course. It’s on the nightstand.”

John made his way over, but the charger wasn’t there, nor on the floor. Nor was it in the ajar drawer. It was empty, safe for one thing. He whipped to her, chills running down his spine.

“Actually, why don’t you keep it. I don’t need it anymore,” she said lightly, flicking the kettle on.

“S’not there,” he muttered.

She scanned the room. “Oh, sorry. Then it must be by the table,” she pointed.

Wordlessly, he strode over and plugged his phone in with shaky hands. He swallowed, his throat going dry as his heart drained. He stared at the back of her head as she opened the overhead cabinet, only to chuckle to herself.

“I’ve only got a mug left. A bowl would have to do.” She set them on the counter and opened two tea bags.

He was going to be sick. He blinked rapidly, searching for something to distract himself with. His eyes fell to her guitar. He swallowed once more before he croaked, “T- That’s a gorgeous one.”

She looked over her shoulder and smiled fondly at what he was pointing at. “It is. But one of the pegs broke and I never picked it back up.”

“Can I play?”

She frowned. “You can’t. It’s broken.”

“I’ll make do.”

“But it’s useless. I was going to give it away, but no one even wants it.”

“It’s still a guitar. And it’s not broken forever. Nothing is ever broken beyond repair.”

She paused before turning back to the counter. “Feel free then,” she said quietly.

He sat crossed legged on the floor, back against her bed. He strummed and tuned the dusty instrument as best he could. As expected, it didn’t sound right because of the jammed string.

His heart continued to beat out of his chest as she poured the hot water into the mug and bowl. She set them on the table before settling next to him.

The lump in his throat only swelled, but he turned towards her. His fingers trembled as he picked the strings. The first chord. A beat. A bar and two.

He let out a long, steady exhale. On any other day, he couldn’t have endured the disharmony, but today the ringing in his ears were far louder as he inhaled.

“Love of mine, someday you will die, but I’ll be close behind. I’ll follow you into the dark.”

John’s blue eyes stayed on hers as a smile blossomed on her lips. The sight pained him. His gaze cut to the fretboard.

“No blinding lights or tunnels to gates of white. Just our hands clasped so tight waiting for the hint of a spark.”

The metal strings buried themselves further in his fingertips. He drew a sharp breath, eyes shut, wishing the tears wouldn’t spill. Not now.

“If heaven and hell decide that they both are satisfied. Illuminate the ‘no’s on their vacancy signs. If there’s no one beside you when your soul embarks,” he heaved, trying his best to calm his voice, but a tear finally slipped. “I’ll follow you into the dark,” he rasped.

When he looked up at her, she had turned away, wiping at her tears.

He set the guitar aside and inched closer to her. “I saw…” he started, even when he wasn’t sure what to say. “In the drawer.”

But he couldn’t help himself when he wrapped his arms around her. She clung onto him, face pressing against his shoulder.

“It hurts,” she choked between sobs, her tears seeping into his shirt. “I keep telling myself to hold on for another day… But it’s been too long, and it hasn’t stopped hurting.”

“I know. Thank you for choosing to be here, no matter how hard. Thank you for trying. Thank you for giving it a chance, every day. Thank you for letting the world love you, because it will never be the same without you.”

“I don’t know how much longer,” she mumbled into his shirt, shaking in his arms.

He rubbed her back as he let out a breath. Another tear ran down his cheek. “It might not be now. Might not be tomorrow or next week or next month, but I swear it will be okay in the end. Always. Even if the worst has happened.”

John didn’t know how long, but in the silence, he held her until her tears and its tremors dissipated. Her grip on him loosened.

“If you… Tonight…” He couldn’t bring himself to say it. “Would you?”

She nodded. It was tiny, but it was all he needed.

He wiped his own tears with a shaky sigh. “Come on then. It’s your birthday. We can do whatever we want.”

“What?” She pulled away with a chuckle, her voice still hoarse.

“Let’s go out.”

“Where to?”

“Anywhere you want. Are you hungry? There’s waffles. Or chippy, pizza or kebab. The birthday girl can have everything.”

“What about the tea? It’s not even hot anymore.”

“Lucky me. Never been a fan of hot tea.”

She laughed through her drying tears as he chugged it down.

John Price considered himself pretty lucky, but he wasn’t lucky enough to find a busker in 2 a.m. London.

But he was lucky enough to spend hours on his tired legs walking across the city with her. They bought food - whatever that still looked appealing enough at the hour, until they decided to rest at a park. At the top of the stairs as they looked upon the rousing city, they basked in the remainder of its slumber.

At the break of dawn, in the distance, the blush of gold crept over the horizon.

She turned to him. It might not have been as wide or bright, but that smile carried something else. An empty field with the faintest sprout, stained with a tinge of hope.

“I’ll get my guitar fixed.”

It looked good on her.

Thank you for being here today. I’m so happy to have you here. Please stay safe and take care

Masterlist Ex bf Price Formula One Price

[zyafics-recs]

reblogging comment review by @zyafics

LITERALLY FINISHED AN ASSIGNMENT AND NOW I CAN TAKE A BREATH LETS GOOOO (long annotations below ⬇️)

Arrogant, volatile, downright psychotic — Rafe was a walking disaster.

my psychopath lets gooo

The cabin was small and sparsely furnished: a bunk, a tiny porthole high on the wall, and a single chair bolted to the floor.There was a faint hum of the ship's engines, a constant reminder that you were far from land and any chance of immediate rescue.

ur descriptions paints the scene of s2ep10 when they were on the ship so well, like i remember staring at your words going: wow 😦

"They left. Now, you're my problem. Lucky me.""Now, what am I going to do with you?"

why r all the crazy ones so fine

“To you? Or Ward? Do you only get this cocky when daddy’s not around to rein you in?”

i love LOVE when the reader provokes rafe using his father like bro that's such a trigger for him rein it in 😭

The punch came so fast, you didn’t see it coming. Pain exploded across your jaw, and you tasted blood. He grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him. “You don’t fucking talk about her, dirty pogue. Ever.”

YOOOOOO 😡

The path led deeper into the heart of the island, the dense foliage casting long shadows as the sun began to set.

god, i love ur descriptions so much u don't understand i'm taking notes as i read this 📝

He blinked, momentarily thrown off guard by your words, “Stay out my fucking way or I’ll kill you myself.”

i love how much of a psychopath he is in this fic, like yes, this is the crazy man of s2 (i can fix him 🤞🏻)

He was a product of his environment, molded by a father who saw him as nothing more than a means to an end.

YES, i love maybank!reader's deep analysis of rafe bc we know and that doesn't excuse his behavior but it helps us understand him 🥹

But beneath it all, there was something else. Something you’d seen before, when you looked at yourself in the mirror after you took the biggest beating of your life and Luke finally got thrown into jail: hope. 

i love her lore so so much!!

And you began to see a way out, not just for yourself, but for Rafe too.

she's a love not a fighter fr 😩

"Because he's family. And sometimes, family is all you have. Even when they’re terrible, even when they hurt you, sometimes you can’t just walk away.""Family's supposed to be everything, right?"

my daddy issues babies, sometimes i wanna push u two together like barbie and ken during play sessions (am i making sense idk anymore)

The sight of the blood staining your arm made his expression shift from bewilderment to fury.

I LOVE LOVE LITTLE DETAILS LIKE THIS

“Shut up. Just… shut up.” He turned back to you, his eyes softening slightly as he took in the sight of your injured arm

he has a heart !!!!

"So this is all about you, then? Your precious ass and how it looks to Ward? Typical Cameron bullshit, only caring about themselves."You don't know what you're talking about," he said, his voice dangerously low. "You think this is easy for me? Keeping you safe, dealing with all this? It's not just about me. It's about keeping everything under control."

one of the things i admire so heavily with your writing is ur ability to write tense dialogues, the way they fight back and forth with words!! like i love it so so much!!

"You're impossible," he hissed, his voice a raw whisper."And you’re a coward," you shot back, your voice equally low but no less fierce.The next moment happened in a blur. Rafe’s grip tightened, and before you could process what was happening, his lips crashed into yours with a ferocity that left you breathless.

LOVE LOVE A HATE KISS

The kiss was rough and desperate, fueled by anger and frustration, a collision of two souls too damaged to recognize the depths of their own pain.And yet, beneath the layers of animosity and resentment, there was a spark—as if you were both too messed up to understand how much you needed each other.

the poetry!!! shakespeare!!! u can write hamlet but can william write this?!?!?

"You're impossible," he muttered against your lips, the words barely audible over the sound of your heavy breathing."And you’re an asshole,” you shot back, your voice breathless, your body arching into his touch.He pulled back just enough to look at you, the tip of his nose brushing against yours slightly "Drive me fucking crazy.”

i love when they're making out but they find ways to take shots at each other "I hate you," you panted, pouring as much venom into your words as possible. Your thighs tightened around his hips, feeling every inch of him against you. “Your body doesn’t,” He replies coldly, each syllable slowly drawn from his throat, "“Fucking asshole.”“Fucking brat.”

he's such a prick 😭 i want him in my bed

"Eyes on me,” he growled, his voice rough and commanding. "Let me see you.”

one of the hottest things a man can say to me

“Y-You—“ He sighed, pausing, “Don’t pull that shit again. I’ll get you out, okay? 

one of my favorite scenes got me kicking my feet like a school girl (dude u CARE stfu 😭)

“We’re getting out.”You wanted to believe in him more than anything. In that moment, it was the only thing that mattered, “Yeah?"“Yeah, pretty Maybank. You and me."“Okay.”“Okay.”

I'M OBSESSED WITH YOUR WORDS OH MY GOD

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

FINAL THOUGHTS | okay okay, let me catch my breath because that smut (their banter!!) was so fucking hot 🥵 (why do i use emojis like a middle school boy? anyways) i think what i truly noticed from this fic is how compelling you can make a scene. the way you built transitions so seamlessly through strong descriptions about what's going on (plot wise!) and it's such an admirable skill that i deeply deeply wish i have. especially because the language and vocabulary you use are so clean and expressive without making the audience (like me) feel dumb about not knowing the definition (does that make sense?) also also. as i always point out, i'm obsessed with your build-up dialogues. right before we hit the intense parts, you manage to build up this anticipation and adrenaline from reader and rafe arguing back and forth. and what i appreciate is how you kept the enemies part of enemies to lovers all the way through, only concluding that reader feels complicated near the end. like i love that she didn't fold; she continues to be defiant and her and that brings me to another trait i love about ur writing: ur consistency in your readers. if u plan on making a certain reader rebellious, you keep it to the very end and i love that. oops, this is getting a little too long. anyways, as always, incredible work gigi, i would love to see more of maybank!reader from you especially a second part to their escape (and what it means for them to be back in obx together?? her brother's reaction?? 🫠)

THE OTHER SIDE OF PARADISE - rafe cameron (+18)

request: "a rafe enemies to lovers 🫣 the reader is jjs sister the whole drama before but then she gets left behind on the ship and rafe ends up comforting her and then yea that’s all I got you can do whatever else the rest 😛" + "def some little smut during the enemies part and a long story"

WARNINGS: maybank!reader; kidnapping; smut!; violence!; rafe is a red flag; guns and blood; p in v; they tell each other to shut the fuck up a lot lmao;

word count: 8k...im sorry

The sun dipped low, painting the Outer Banks marshes in shades of fiery orange. Tensions between the Kooks and the Pogues had hit a fever pitch, and in the middle of it all? Rafe Cameron, the last person you'd want to encounter. Ever. 

Every run-in with him left a bitter taste in your mouth, lingering for days. It was like he had a knack for getting under your skin. Arrogant, volatile, downright psychotic — Rafe was a walking disaster. Each interaction with him sucked the life out of you. You were convinced that nothing good could ever come from being around him. And yet, there you were, another Maybank, caught in the chaos of the island's most influential family feud.

You knew the risks, but loyalty drove you forward. And now? Well, now you were in deep shit.

Your plan had been reckless, fueled by the desperate need to save Sarah from her deranged family and retrieve Pope's stolen cross. Everything had gone smoothly until chaos erupted, and you found yourself abruptly yanked away from the corridor by a strong grip on your arm, before you could even call out for your brother and Kie. Another hand clamped over your mouth, stifling any attempts to scream. In a blur, you were dragged into a dimly lit cabin, the men's hold on you unyielding. Struggling was futile against his iron grip. He tossed you inside, slamming the door shut and locking it behind him. The gravity of your situation hit hard immediately – you were alone, at the mercy of Ward Cameron. The man who'd silenced anyone who dared oppose him, even going as far as faking his own death, kidnapping his own daughter, and manipulating his son into committing murder. 

Because in his twisted world, family trumped everything. Even murder.

Your mind raced as you took in your surroundings. The cabin was small and sparsely furnished: a bunk, a tiny porthole high on the wall, and a single chair bolted to the floor. There was a faint hum of the ship's engines, a constant reminder that you were far from land and any chance of immediate rescue. You quickly assessed your options. The door was solid, and you didn't have anything strong enough to force it open. Fuck, fuck fuck. 

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. Panic wouldn't help; you needed a plan. But then, like a nightmare come to life, the devil himself stepped into the room, his eyes piercing as they landed on you. The man who had captured you stood behind him, a smug grin on his face. 

Rafe was visibly surprised to see you, but he quickly concealed it behind a cold, calculating expression. His forehead glistened with sweat, his hair damp and sticking to his temples. His shirt clung to his back, soaked through from the scorching heat, and beads of perspiration trickled down his face. He wiped his brow with a weary hand and his gun gleamed ominously in the dim light.

"Well shit,” Rafe said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Look what we have here. Didn't expect to see ya again so soon pretty Maybank.”

You tried to keep your expression neutral, but your mind was racing with questions. Where were your friends? Were they safe? Was your brother even alive? Before you could ask, Rafe continued, his tone mocking. 

"Your brother really did a number on you, huh? Left you behind without a second thought. Typical Maybank shit, huh? Always knew you were unreliable."

Son of a bitch. You clenched your fists, fighting to keep your composure. "You're lying," you countered, your voice steady despite the fear gnawing at you, "He wouldn't leave me."

Not unless he was forced to.

Rafe chuckled, a dark, humorless sound. "Believe what you want. They left. Now, you're my problem. Lucky me."

“You’re lying.”

His eyes gleamed with a dangerous glint as he advanced towards you. You took a step back, but there was nowhere to go. The cold, metal wall pressed against your back, mirroring the chill that had settled in your bones.

"Now, what am I going to do with you?" he mused, tilting his head as if genuinely contemplating your fate. The gun in his hand swung lazily at his side, but you knew better than to think it wasn't ready to be used at a moment's notice. You swallowed hard, your mind frantically searching for a way out of this hellhole. He was unpredictable and volatile; years of snorting cocaine and family trauma did that to some people. 

But maybe, just maybe, you could reason with him. 

“Rafe, listen. You don't have to do this. Let me go and we can both walk away from this. No one has to get hurt."

Again. 

His laugh was sharp and bitter. "You think I'm going to let you go just because you asked nicely?" He stepped closer, his breath hot against your face. "Nah. You're going to stay right here until I decide what to do with you.“ 

You tried to keep your breathing steady, but fear clawed at your chest. The odds were against you, as they had always been your entire life.

"What do you want, Rafe? The cross? We can make a deal."

His eyes narrowed, the amusement fading. 

"You think this is about money? About that fucking cross? This is about power. Control. And right now...huh, shit, I control you." He leaned in, his voice a deadly whisper. "The cross is mine now. How do you feel about the Bahamas?”

Your top lip curled in disgust, “I’d rather drown.”

His smile twisted into something even darker. “I think you’re worth more alive, at least for now.”

You refused to show him any more fear. “To you? Or Ward? Do you only get this cocky when daddy’s not around to rein you in?”

Rafe’s expression hardened, and for a moment, you thought you’d pushed him too far. He leaned in close, his eyes cold and unforgiving. 

“Watch your fucking mouth, Maybank. You don’t know anything about my family.”

You laughed bitterly, unable to stop yourself. “Yeah, no. You're right. Just that you're dad’s little lapdog, doing his dirty work while he pretends to be some upstanding citizen. And where’s your mom in all this? Oh! She left.”

The punch came so fast, you didn’t see it coming. Pain exploded across your jaw, and you tasted blood. He grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him. “You don’t fucking talk about her, dirty pogue. Ever.”

Anger took over you like wildfire, burning hotter than the pain. Your jaw throbbed, but the rage was stronger. You wanted to hit him back, to wipe that smug look off his face, to make him feel the hurt he had inflicted on you. Your fists clenched at your sides, every muscle in your body taut with the desire for retribution. The fury in your eyes matched the darkness in his.

You spat blood at his face, glaring up at him defiantly. “You’re just a puppet. Your sister hates you, your dad uses you, and deep down, you know it. You’ll never be more than his bitch.” 

His grip tightened painfully, rough fingers digging into your flesh, lips twitching into a snarl, but you didn’t flinch. If you were going down, you’d go down fighting. His eyes flickered with something you’d never seen in him, before he released you, stepping back. “You think you’re so smart, don’t you? So tough.”

“Smarter than you,” you shot back. “At least I know who I am. What are you, Rafe?“

He stared at you, tongue pressed against his cheek, eyebrows furrowed. Then he laughed, a harsh, grating sound that sent chills down your spine. His hand reached out, and your breath stilled throat tightening as he fiddled with a lock of your hair. He’d let out another laugh, entirely dismissive of the trepidation you’d felt stuck.

“You’ve got guts, Maybank. It's gonna get you killed.“

You wiped the blood from your mouth, meeting his gaze with unwavering defiance. “I’ve survived worse than you.”

And you had. If anything prepared you for violence, drugs, and pain, was living with Luke Maybank your entire life. And maybe, if you didn’t hate Rafe with every fiber of your being, after everything he’d done, you’d feel sorry for him. But you didn’t, and he sure as hell didn't feel sorry for you. 

For a moment, the room was silent except for the low hum of the ship’s engines. Then Rafe turned on his heel, motioning to the man by the door. “Watch her. Make sure she doesn’t go anywhere.”

“Do I look like fucking Michael Phelps? Where the fuck would I go? We’re on a ship you crazy bastar—Hey! Rafe! Open the fucking door!” 

The door slammed shut behind him, the sound echoing through the small, dimly lit cabin. You listened to his footsteps fade away, feeling a sense of relief and dread settle in your chest. What the fuck had you gotten yourself into? They could kill you, dispose your body in the ocean and no would give a single fuck. No one would think you’d gone missing, because you’re a Maybank and that’s what your kind of people did, apparently. Your brother would probably assume you’re dead, he’d try to get justice and fail in the end, because the rich always won.

The musty air of the cabin felt oppressive as you turned away from the small porthole, where the bright sun and endless expanse of blue ocean taunted you from beyond. Days had melded into one another, each marked only by the arrival of meals and the sporadic presence of Rafe. You had hoped for some sense of clarity, some hint of what your future held, but his visits offered nothing but insults and foreboding silence.

You paced the small room, your mind racing with the possibilities of what they had planned for you. The guard remained a silent sentinel, a constant reminder that escape was not an option. But then, the cabin door creaked open again, and you tensed as Ward Cameron stepped in, his presence commanding immediate attention. 

He gave a nod to the guard, who stepped out, leaving you alone with the man who held your fate in his hands. A fucking lunatic with enough means to play for all the dramatics he enjoyed. Great.

"Get comfortable," Ward said, his voice smooth but carrying an edge that set your nerves on edge. "We're almost there."

"Almost where?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

"The Bahamas," he replied, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "A little slice of paradise, if you will."

"And what happens then?" you pressed, needing to know more.

Ward studied you for a moment, as if weighing how much to reveal. “Keep out of sight, stay quiet. Rafe and I have some business to attend to, and we can't afford any distractions."

"And if I refuse?" you challenged, though you knew the answer.

Ward's smile widened, but there was no warmth in it. "Let's not be stupid, sweetheart. You're here because you know too much. Refusing isn't an option. Cooperation, however…”

A chill ran down your spine at his words. The stakes were clear, and you realized that your only chance was to play along, at least until you could figure out a way to escape this nightmare.

The rest of the day passed in a tense haze. Eventually, you felt the ship slow, the engines quieting as you approached your destination. When the door opened again, Rafe was there, his expression unreadable.

"Time to go," he said simply, motioning for you to follow, "Move."

You stepped out onto the deck, the warm, salty breeze hitting your face as you looked around. The sight of the lush, tropical landscape did little to ease your anxiety. You were led to a smaller boat, and soon you were speeding towards a secluded island, the main landmass of the Bahamas visible in the distance. This was a world away from the familiar streets and faces of The Cut. It was straight out of a postcard. Something you and JJ would fantasize about while high of your asses and writing bucklists. 

God, JJ. You only hoped he made it. You’d never gone a day without each other before you were dragged into this mess last summer. It wasn’t fair. You only wanted enough money to get by, an easy fix to get everything sorted, finish college, ship your dad somewhere far away from you two. But Ward’s greedy ass had to ruin everything for you. 

As the boat neared the shore, you couldn't shake the feeling of impending doom. The island loomed closer, its pristine beaches and swaying palm trees offering a stark contrast to the danger that lurked just beneath the surface.

Rafe’s hand gripped your arm, his grasp tight and unyielding as he led you onto the sandy beach. Ward followed close behind, his expression unreadable as he surveyed the scene before him.

"This way," he said, his voice cutting through the sound of the waves crashing against the shore. You followed obediently, your mind racing with possibilities. Escape seemed unlikely, but you clung to the slim hope that you could find a way out of this mess. As you walked, you couldn't help but wonder what awaited you on this remote island.

The path led deeper into the heart of the island, the dense foliage casting long shadows as the sun began to set. You could feel the weight of Ward and Rafe's gazes on you, their presence a constant reminder of the mess you were in.

Finally, you reached a clearing, and your heart sank as you saw what awaited you. A small house. In the middle of nowhere. Oh god, you were a dead woman. 

“This will be your home for the time being," Ward said, his voice cold and unfeeling, as if he was offering you a vacation rental and not kidnapping you. You wanted to protest, to demand answers, but you knew it was futile, there was a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, it practically swallow you whole. 

“My son will be keeping you company, don’t get too excited.” 

The way Rafe’s head snapped in his father’s direction told you more than what you needed to know. Once again, daddy dearest was calling the shots without taking his opinion into consideration. Ward’s casual cruelty was suffocating, a stark reminder of the power he wielded over everyone. As he turned to leave, leaving no space of negotiations or pleadings, Rafe’s eyes bored into yours. No questions asked, only blind devotion to his father. 

The door slammed shut, leaving you alone with Rafe once more. He looked at you, resentment playing across his face and something inside you urged you to fight. 

“I’m not going to make this easy for you," you said, your voice a low growl, “I’m not dying here. Not with you.” 

Rafe chuckled, greasy bangs moving as he shook his head, “You really think you have a choice here?” He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming in the confined space, “You think you’re special? Nah, Maybank. He’ll get rid of you eventually, don’t worry.”

“Exactly. He will, not you. You don’t have any control either and I think you hate being here as much as I do. That shit makes us both prisoners.”

He blinked, momentarily thrown off guard by your words, “Stay out my fucking way or I’ll kill you myself.”

You were sure he wouldn't, only if Ward asked him to. He’d fucked up enough before, when he accidentally shot Sarah and didn’t look the slightest bit apologetic. You know he wouldn’t do it again, not if he wanted to keep his head on his shoulder and his trust fund. Ward Cameron hated slips ups, hated even more the monster he raised, but he sure came in handy when he needed him. 

Rafe’s words hung in the air like a noose, but you refused to let them tighten around your neck. "Empty threats," you shot back, squaring your shoulders. "I've dealt with bigger monsters than you, Rafe."

For a moment, a flicker of doubt passed through his blue eyes. They were bloodshot red, perhaps from the lack of sleep or maybe because he was high off his mind, you didn’t care to ask. But just as quickly, his usual sneer returned. "Enjoy your stay, Maybank.”

With that, he turned and left the room. Him and the stupid slamming of doors. You were alone again, your pulse racing but your resolve intact. You had to get out of here. You knew it wouldn't be easy, but you were a Maybank—survival was in your blood. You took stock of your surroundings once more, this time with a sharper eye. The walls were thin, the windows barred, but there had to be some weakness, some way to exploit the situation. You ran your fingers along the seams of the walls, looking for anything that might give. Your mind raced through every piece of advice JJ had ever given you about breaking and entering. You’d done a lot of that over the years, and while most people thought you pogues were simply criminals, they never cared enough to ask why you and your brother spent so much time in and out of the sheriff’s department. 

So, what if two dirty, no-good kids were barely hanging on for dear life? No one gave a shit. 

Weeks blurred into each other, each one marked by the same routine. Rafe's visits, Ward's looming threats, and the endless search for an opportunity to escape. You watched Rafe carefully, noting his every move, his every interaction with Ward. You noticed the way Ward belittled him, treating him more like a tool than a son. It was a toxic dynamic, one that made you wonder if Rafe was as much a victim as you were. You’d seen bits and pieces before, but Sarah had described Ward as some sort of saint up until recently. Rafe on the other hand? Their dynamic was so different from what you were used to. You and JJ were like two peas in a pod, you’d die for him and you know he would do the same, no questions asked. If there was one good thing in your life, it was your brother. 

You couldn't help but feel a twinge of pity for Rafe, despite everything he'd done. He was a product of his environment, molded by a father who saw him as nothing more than a means to an end. 

You saw the cracks in his armor, the moments of doubt and vulnerability. The way his hands would shake every time Ward raised his voice, the way he would bite his nails to hide the embarrassment booming in his cheeks. How he never walked into his father’s space or any other room without announcing his presence. It gave you whiplash. 

You began to argue less with him, your animosity slowly giving way to a grudging understanding. You hated feeling so…forgiving. This boy had done unspeakable things to you and your friends, to your family…and there you were. Feeling sorry for him like you didn’t know better. 

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the small house, Rafe brought you dinner. He placed the plate on the table, his movements tense, his expression unusually subdued. Strangely so, you’d memorized that expression. You didn’t even have to ask to understand what had gotten under his skin. You watched him for a moment before speaking.

"Why do you let him treat you like that?" you asked, your voice softer than usual. You didn’t understand why you did it. You regretted the words the moment they came out of your lips, but there was something inside itching you to ask. 

Rafe's eyes snapped to yours, rage and something else—pain—flashing in them. "What the hell do you know about it?" he snapped, but there was less bite in his words. 

At this point he just sounded tired. 

"I understand,” you replied, thinking of your own father. "I know what it's like to want to prove yourself, to be more than what they think you are."

Rafe's jaw clenched, his eyes dropping to the floor. For a moment, he looked lost, like a boy searching for something he could never find. "You don't know shit," he muttered, but there was no conviction in his voice.

"I know enough," you said quietly. "You don't have to keep doing this. You don't have to be his puppet."

He laughed bitterly, shaking his head. "You think it's that simple?"

"Maybe not. But you can choose to be better than him. You can choose to stop this.”

Rafe looked at you, really looked at you, for the first time. It was borderline unnerving. The weight of his stare. The way your stomach flip-flops under his attention. 

“Shut the fuck up and eat, Maybank."

But beneath it all, there was something else. Something you’d seen before, when you looked at yourself in the mirror after you took the biggest beating of your life and Luke finally got thrown into jail: hope. 

He didn't say anything, just turned and walked out, leaving you alone. 

Again. 

The days continued to pass, but something had shifted. Rafe was less hostile, more contemplative. He didn't treat you as roughly, didn't hurl as many insults. It was a small change, but it was there. And you began to see a way out, not just for yourself, but for Rafe too. You knew what he did, knew what he was capable of, but no one deserved to rot in hell with someone like Ward. You needed to bide your time, to wait for the right moment. And when that moment came, you had to be ready to act. 

Another day began with the same oppressive heat. The sun had just started to rise, casting a golden hue over the island. You were in the small kitchen of the house, preparing a meager breakfast from the limited supplies you had. The routine had become almost mechanical, a way to keep your mind occupied and stave off the rising panic.

Rafe entered the kitchen, eyes barely open as he wiped the sleep away. He poured himself a glass of whiskey, the sound of the liquid hitting the glass breaking the silence. He stood with his back to you, staring out the window. 

“What’s Luke like?”

You froze, your hands pausing mid-motion. It was an unexpected question, one that cut deep and made you want to hurl on the spot even though you hadn’t had anything to eat yet. 

“Why do you want to know?" you asked cautiously, trying to keep your voice steady.

Rafe shrugged, still not turning to face you. "Just curious. You Maybanks are a tight bunch, right? So what's he like?"

Tight bunch…that was one way to put it. 

You took a deep breath, trying to decide how much to reveal. "He’s a drunk, a thief. But he's still my dad."

He finally turned to look at you, his eyes narrowing. "So why do you stick around? Why not just leave him?"

You knew what he was trying to do, giving you a taste of your own medicine. You couldn’t blame him. 

You met his gaze, the raw honesty of your answer surprising even you. "Because he's family. And sometimes, family is all you have. Even when they’re terrible, even when they hurt you, sometimes you can’t just walk away."

Rafe seemed to consider this, his expression unreadable. "Family's supposed to be everything, right?" His voice carried a bitter edge, hinting at his own unresolved conflicts.

"That's what they say," you replied quietly.

He took another sip of his whiskey, his eyes never leaving yours. "Must be tough, having a dad like that."

Tough? It’s heartbreaking. Knowing that the one person who was supposed to love you, cherish you and protect you for life never gave a single fuck about his kids? Yeah, sure it’s “tough”

You nodded, a sad smile playing on your lips. "Guess we have that in common.”

Rafe looked away, his jaw tightening. "Yeah, we do." He set his glass down with a heavy thud, the sound resonating in the small kitchen.

For a moment, the two of you stood in silence, but then he took a deep breath, his shoulders sagging slightly. "I get it," he said quietly. "More than you know."

You watched him, the way his fingers ran along the rim of the glass. "Then why do you keep doing this? You don’t have to."

His eyes blazed with anger. “It's not that simple," he snapped. "You think I have a choice? I killed someone. For him.” 

It was the first time he had said those words out loud. And it made him sick to his stomach. That he’d been scared and high enough to do something so reckless, just so they wouldn’t take away his dad. 

"We always have a choice," you countered, your voice firm. "Maybe not the best ones, but we can always choose to be better."

He stared at you for a long moment, his expression a tumult of emotions. Then he shook his head, turning away. "You don't know anything," he muttered, but there was less conviction in his words than before.

"I know enough," you said softly, watching his retreating back. "And so do you."

He paused at the doorway, his hand gripping the frame tightly. Without turning around, he spoke, his voice low and strained. "I'll see you later."

As he left, the kitchen felt colder, but you knew you had reached him, even if just a little. And that gave you hope.

After that, Rafe’s visits were less frequent, and when he did come by, there was an uneasy tension between you both. You couldn't tell if it was the weight of your conversations or the sheer exhaustion of being trapped in this toxic cycle. Still, every interaction chipped away at the walls he'd built around himself, revealing glimpses of the person he might have been, had his life taken a different path.

Tonight, the air was still, the only sound was the gentle lapping of waves against the shore. You had been biding your time, watching for the perfect moment to make your escape. The house was quiet, Ward was gone and you hadn’t seen Rafe in two days. By now, you knew how the guards outside fell asleep before 2am like clockwork. 

You could it. 

This was your chance, and you couldn't afford to waste it.

You moved silently, slipping out of the small bedroom and into the hallway. Every creak of the wooden floorboards seemed to echo in the stillness, and you held your breath, praying you wouldn't be caught. The front door loomed ahead, your path to freedom. Your heart raced as you slowly turned the handle, wincing at the faint click that accompanied the action.

The night air hit you like a wave as you stepped outside, the cool breeze a stark contrast to the oppressive heat that had been your constant companion. You glanced around, ensuring the coast was clear, then made your way towards the small boat moored at the edge of the beach. The plan was simple: get to the boat, start the engine, and head for the main island where you could find help.

You kept low, moving quickly but cautiously, every step bringing you closer to your goal. The boat was within reach when a noise behind you made your blood run cold. 

The crunch of gravel underfoot was unmistakable. You turned sharply, and in the dim moonlight, the silhouette of one of the guards emerged from the shadows. The asshole who’d gotten you here in the first place. He was closer than you had anticipated. Your heart pounded, adrenaline surging through your veins as you broke into a sprint, abandoning stealth for speed.

"Stop!" the guard shouted, his voice carrying across the trees. You didn't dare look back, your eyes locked on the boat. A sharp crack split the night—a gunshot. You felt a searing pain in your arm, but you couldn't stop. You pushed through the pain, your goal now just a few yards away.

Another gunshot rang out, but you were too focused to determine where it landed. You reached the boat, hands trembling as you fumbled with the ropes. The pain in your arm intensified, but you forced yourself to keep moving. Suddenly, a heavy hand grabbed your shoulder, spinning you around. You struggled, kicking and thrashing, but he was stronger. He pulled you to the ground, pinning you down as he radioed for backup.

"Got her," he said into the radio, his breath hot against your ear. You tried to wriggle free, but his grip tightened. Moments later, two more guards arrived, hauling you to your feet and dragging you back towards the house.

Your mind raced the sting in your arm a painful reminder of your failed attempt. As they pulled you inside, the walls seemed to close in around you, your brief taste of freedom slipping away.

Moments felt like hours as you sat in the chair, the pain in your arm throbbing with each heartbeat. The quiet murmurs of the guards outside were interrupted by the heavy, hurried footsteps of someone approaching. The door flew open, and there stood Rafe, disheveled and wild-eyed, a gun clutched tightly in his hand.

“What the fuck is going on?” he barked, his voice a volatile mix of anger and confusion. His gaze scanned the room, landing on you. 

The sight of the blood staining your arm made his expression shift from bewilderment to fury.

He stormed towards you, his eyes blazing. “What happened?” he demanded, his voice low but dangerous. Before you could answer, he whirled around to face the guards who had re-entered the room. “Are you fucking kidding me?” Rafe shouted, waving his gun erratically. “She’s bleeding! I try to sleep in peace and this is what I come back to?”

The guards exchanged nervous glances, shifting uncomfortably under Rafe’s glare. “She was trying to escape, Mr. Cameron,” one of them stammered. “We had to stop her.”

His expression twisted with rage. “So you fucking shot her?” His voice dripped with incredulity and disdain. “Do you even understand what you’ve done? My father wants her in once piece.”

The guard who had caught you tried to explain, but Rafe cut him off. “Shut up. Just... shut up.” He turned back to you, his eyes softening slightly as he took in the sight of your injured arm. Or maybe the pain was making you delirious.

 “We need to get that cleaned up,” he muttered, more to himself than to anyone else. Without another word, he holstered his gun and gently took your uninjured arm, pulling you to your feet. The guards looked on, unsure of what to do or say. 

Rafe shot them a deadly look. “Get out,” he snapped. “Before I shoot you bitches myself.”

Once Ward’s men had left, Rafe's demeanor changed. His concern, which had briefly softened his striking features, hardened back into anger. He ran a hand through his long hair, pacing the small bathroom before finally stopping in front of you. His eyes were intense, burning with frustration.

He sneered at you, his voice dripping with disappointment and exasperation, "I thought you had some brains in that pretty little head of yours," he spat out, his frustration palpable. "What were you even thinking? Do you realize how close you came to getting yourself killed?"

You tried to speak, to defend yourself, but he didn't give you the chance. His words came fast, each one like a dagger aimed at my heart. "You could've died out there! A bullet barely missed you—do you even understand how lucky you are?"

His fists clenched at his sides, his eyes burning into yours. "I just don't get it. Do you think you're invincible? Because you're not. You're just..." He stopped himself, taking a deep breath as if trying to regain control of his temper. "You're just reckless," he continued, his voice quieter but still seething with anger. "You didn’t think about the consequences, about what it would do to..."

He trailed off, his attention faltering for a moment before snapping back to you. You could see the conflict in his eyes, the battle between knocking you out cold and something else—maybe concern, maybe fear.

"Don't act like you give a shit about me," you called after him, your voice trembling with both pain and defiance.

He stopped in his tracks, his back stiffening for a moment before slowly turning to face you. The fury in his eyes was matched only by the bitterness in your own. "I don't," he retorted, his tone icy. "But my ass is on the line too. You think Ward won't come down on me if something happens to you?"

You stood up, despite the throbbing pain in your arm, facing him head-on. "So this is all about you, then? Your precious ass and how it looks to Ward? Typical Cameron bullshit, only caring about themselves."

Rafe's eyes narrowed, his jaw clenching. "You don't know what you're talking about," he said, his voice dangerously low. "You think this is easy for me? Keeping you safe, dealing with all this? It's not just about me. It's about keeping everything under control."

You scoff through your nose "Here we go again. Control? You think dragging me back here, shooting at me, is control? It's chaos, Rafe. You're just as trapped as I am, and you can't stand it."

His face twisted showcasing his wrath, and he took a step towards you, closing the distance. "Shut up!” he growled. "You don’t understand the pressure I'm under. The expectations, the demands. I didn’t ask for any of this."

"And neither did I," you shot back, a strict finger aimed at his face in warning, “So shut the fuck up.”

He took another step towards you, his face inches from yours, his breath hot and ragged.

"You have no idea what you're talking about," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "You think this is just about me? It's about keeping everything from falling apart. It's about—"

Before he could finish, you grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him even closer, your faces almost touching. "I don’t care about your excuses, Rafe. I don’t care about your pressures or your fucking control. All I know is I’m not staying here.”

The look he gave you was filled with enough ire to have a hint of satisfaction sparking in your chest, the hollow beneath his dark brows deepening as his classical features twisted into an expression of silent hatred. His breath came in short, sharp bursts. His hands came up, gripping your waist, not gently but not roughly either, as if he couldn’t decide whether to push you away or pull you closer.

"You're impossible," he hissed, his voice a raw whisper.

"And you’re a coward," you shot back, your voice equally low but no less fierce.

The next moment happened in a blur. Rafe’s grip tightened, and before you could process what was happening, his lips crashed into yours with a ferocity that left you breathless. His mouth was demanding, almost punishing, and you responded, your hands fisting in his shirt, pulling him closer even as you wanted to push him away.

The kiss was rough and desperate, fueled by anger and frustration, a collision of two souls too damaged to recognize the depths of their own pain. And yet, beneath the layers of animosity and resentment, there was a spark—as if you were both too messed up to understand how much you needed each other. Each fingertip left an imprint, a silent declaration of the strength he was restraining. It was like he was fighting to contain this force within him, to keep it from overwhelming you both. 

If someone told you you’d be kissing Rafe fucking Cameron of all people just a month ago, you’d think they were crazy. And yet… All you wanted were his hands on your body, his warm skin against your own.

Oh his hands.

They roamed slowly yet purposefully over your lower back, over your waist. You breathed out a sigh of relief, taking the collar of his shirt in both your hands as you pulled him closer, relishing in his warmth. He smelled like whiskey and cigarettes. 

He pulled away slowly, your lips the last to part, and blinked down at you. You watched him lick his bottom lip, taking in the sight of you.

“’You’re bleeding—“

“Shut the fuck up.”

His eyes flared with renewed anger, but also with something else—something darker, more primal. Your words were like a match to gasoline. He didn't respond verbally; instead, he took a half step back before swooping you into his arms, lifting you effortlessly.

With a swift, decisive motion, Rafe carried you to the dining table, and you barely had time to register the cool wood against your back before he was on you again, his body pressing down on yours with a desperation that matched your own. There was no tenderness there, only raw need and a desire to consume. He pried your lips apart again, his tongue sweeping in as he kissed you deeply, his mouth moving invasively over yours. His fingers gripped your jaw with a vice-like hold. A strange sensation fluttered beneath your skin, and you wrapped your legs around his hips, closing the distance between your bodies as he pressed flush against your center.

His hands moved with such intent, slipping under your shirt, his fingers tracing every curve with a delicious blend of roughness and urgency. You reciprocated eagerly, your own hands tangling in his hair, urging him closer as your kiss deepened. Everything around you blurred as the room spun, his warmth against you making you breathless, his taste lingering on your lips, intoxicating and irresistible.

You tugged at his shirt, fingers fumbling with the buttons because you just couldn't wait. He let out that deep, sexy growl that made a shiver run down your spine. His hands were all over you, touching your skin and leaving fiery trails wherever they went. It felt like he was trying to memorize every inch of you, wanting to claim you in a way that words could never capture.

"You're impossible," he muttered against your lips, the words barely audible over the sound of your heavy breathing. He leaned down closer to your collarbone, to catch the scent on your skin, and he couldn't tell if you were amused or annoyed from the way your cheeks rounded as you narrowed your eyes at him.

"And you’re an asshole,” you shot back, your voice breathless, your body arching into his touch.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, the tip of his nose brushing against yours slightly "Drive me fucking crazy.”

"Good," you replied, your fingers tightening in his hair, pulling him down again. You could feel the tension in his body, the way he was holding back, trying to maintain some semblance of control. But you didn't want control. You wanted to lose yourself in this moment, to forget everything you'd been trough and just feel.

Rafe seemed to sense this, his hands becoming more insistent, his touch more possessive. He lifted you slightly, positioning you better on the table, his body slotting perfectly between your legs. The friction was exquisite, a delicious tease that left you craving more.

"Rafe," you breathed, and he almost fell to his knees at the soft whimper that left your lips when he couldn’t help but jerk his hips forward. He responded instantly, his hands gripping your hips, pulling you closer as he kissed you with a fervor that left you dizzy. The table creaked under your combined weight, but neither of you cared. Your hand grabbed his forearm, over the veins strained from his grip on you, your nails sinking into the skin exposed.

You broke the kiss, gasping for air, your eyes locking with his. There was a wildness there, a reflection of the storm inside you. You reached up, tracing his jaw with your fingers, feeling the stubble beneath your touch as his mouth, hot and demanding, left a trail of fire in its wake on your neck. A noise of pleasure slipped from your mouth as he palmed at your breast, thumb grazing across your nipple as his teeth grazed your collarbone, kissing down, littering your skin bite marks.

"I hate you," you panted, pouring as much venom into your words as possible. Your thighs tightened around his hips, feeling every inch of him against you. 

“Your body doesn’t,” He replies coldly, each syllable slowly drawn from his throat, "

“Fucking asshole.”

“Fucking brat.”

You opened your mouth to hiss something at him, to fight back, show him that you were the one in charge, but the intention died the moment Rafe cupped you through your shorts. A pathetic excuse of shorts due to the heat. Heat bloomed in your stomach, melting into a torrent want that flooded your skin and left you breathless. His determined blue eyes pierced into yours, watching as he pressed the heel of his palm against the apex of your thighs, his middle finger tracing your entrance and applying light pressure to the sensitive dip between your legs.

“Cat got your tongue, pretty?” He asked, lips brushing over your mouth, loose bangs brushing against your brow “Thought you had more fire in you.” he rasped coldly, moving your shorts and underwear out of the way and your lips parted on a sharp inhale as you felt him touch you for the first time, “Yeah, thought so.” 

Every nerve ending seemed to come alive under his hands, and the room around you blurred into insignificance. All that mattered was the man in front of you, his relentless grip on your senses, his unwavering control over your body.

"God, I hate you," you whispered again, the words almost a prayer, a futile attempt to cling to the anger that had fueled you for so long. But even as you said it, you knew it was a lie. You hated how much you needed him, how much you craved his touch, his dominance. Perhaps you’d been locked away from society for too long. That was the only plausible reason for you to let Rafe Cameron touch you.

Rafe smirked, a dark, satisfied gleam in his eyes. "No, you don’t.” 

You did. At least you used to, everything’s confusing now.

He teased you, his touch light and teasing, drawing out your frustration, your need. "Tell me what you want," he murmured against your lips, his voice a seductive growl that made your heart race.

You bit back a whimper, refusing to give him the satisfaction of hearing you beg. But the need was overwhelming, a fierce ache that demanded release. 

“Fuck you," you spat, your defiance crumbling under the weight of your desire.

He chuckled darkly, his fingers finally slipping inside you, curling and stroking in a way that made your hips buck against his hand. "That's right," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. "Let me hear you."

A broken moan escaped your lips, and you arched into his touch, your body writhing with need. His fingers moved expertly, finding all the right spots, driving you near the edge with a skill that left you breathless. Every touch, every stroke was designed to push you closer to the brink, to break you down until you were nothing but a trembling, pleading mess.

"Rafe, please," you finally gasped, the words ripped from your throat by the overwhelming pleasure. "Please, I need you."

His smirk widened, and he pulled his fingers away, making you whimper in frustration. He didn't make you wait long, though. With swift, practiced movements, he freed himself from his pants, the sight of him hard and ready making your mouth water. 

Without a word, he positioned himself between your legs, the head of his pretty cock teasing your entrance. "You ready for me?" he asked, his voice a rough whisper that made your heart skip a beat. 

You nodded, your eyes locking with his, the intensity of the moment almost too much to bear. "Yes," you breathed, your voice trembling with anticipation. "Please, Rafe."

He didn't need any further encouragement. With a single, powerful thrust, he buried himself inside you. The sensation was overwhelming, a perfect blend of pain and pleasure that made you cry out. Your back arched involuntarily, your lips parting as he entered you, filling you completely in a way you had never imagined.

He rolled his hips firmly against yours, and your head tipped back as his cock rubs perfectly against you. You’d never felt so full. He didn’t give you a moment to catch your breath. After another firm roll of his hips, testing you out, figuring out his rhythm. His movements were hard and relentless, pounding into you, knocking the breath from your lungs with each forceful thrust, barely giving you time to adjust. 

You clung to him, your nails digging into his muscular back, your body moving in perfect rhythm with his. The table creaked and groaned beneath you, but you didn't care. All that mattered was the man above you, his relentless drive, his unwavering control. His hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer, deeper, his thrusts becoming more erratic, more desperate. You could feel him losing control, his need matching your own. 

Your eyes squeezed shut, blocking him out so you could pretend you weren’t stupid enough to let the man that ruined your life fuck the living hell out of you.

"Eyes on me,” he growled, his voice rough and commanding. "Let me see you.”

Even though you really wanted to shut him out, you just couldn’t fight the crazy pull he had over you. His voice was like a force of nature. You opened your eyes and locked onto his intense gaze. Seeing him above you, his face twisted with raw need and determination sent chills down your spine. His eyes were locked onto yours, filled with this dark, unyielding intensity that left you totally breathless. 

“Good girl,” he murmured, his voice dripping with approval and something deeper, something that made your heart race even more. It made you want to run for the hills, "Fucki—Oh, fuck"

With each thrust, he drove you closer to the edge, your body responding to him in ways you couldn’t control. The pleasure was overwhelming, a torrent of sensations that left you gasping, moaning, begging for more. His name slipped from your lips in a broken, desperate plea, and he answered with a renewed vigor, his movements becoming more frenzied, more primal.

"Fuck," he growled, his voice rough and strained. "You're so tight... feels so fucking good."

You could barely form coherent thoughts, let alone words. Your entire world had narrowed to this moment, to the feel of him inside you, to the overwhelming pleasure that consumed you. Your body arched beneath him, your nails digging into his skin, leaving marks that would undoubtedly linger.

"Rafe," you whimpered, the sound barely more than a breath. "I'm... I can't..."

He understood. His pace quickened, his thrusts becoming almost brutal in their intensity. "Come for me," he commanded his voice a raw whisper that sent shivers down your spine. "Let go."

His words pushed you over the edge, and you came with a scream, your body convulsing around him. The intensity of your release was like nothing you'd ever felt before, a white-hot explosion of pleasure that left you trembling and breathless.

Rafe followed you over the edge, his own release crashing through him with a force that left him shaking. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath hot and ragged against your skin as he rode out his orgasm, his movements slowing until he finally stilled, still buried deep inside you.

For a moment, everything was still, the only sound the ragged breaths but then Rafe lifted his head, his eyes meeting yours, and for a moment, there was something almost tender in his gaze. 

“Y-You—“ He sighed, pausing, “Don’t pull that shit again. I’ll get you out, okay? 

“Rafe...“

Before you could process his words, before you could question or argue, his lips were on yours again. Differently this time. Gentle. 

Devastating almost. 

“You’re still bleeding Maybank.”

Rafe’s words snapped you back to reality, the pain in your arm a sharp reminder of your injury. The moment of vulnerability between you evaporated, leaving you with the stark realization of your situation. You pushed at his chest, forcing him to back off slightly, and hissed through clenched teeth, "Then do something about it."

He just stood there, staring at you as if he had never seen you before. As if he was truly seeing you for the first time despite having known you since you were seven, despite all the moments marked by violence and terror. And you hated every second of it because your heart was practically leaping out of your chest. No one had ever looked at you like that before.

And then he simply shook his head, drew closer again, resting his forehead against yours, hands back on your thighs, fingers pressing as if he needed to ensure that you were real, that everything was real.

“We’re getting out.”

You wanted to believe in him more than anything. In that moment, it was the only thing that mattered, “Yeah?"

“Yeah, pretty Maybank. You and me."

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

[zettaireido-emotion]

Camus character analysis: games VS anime

If you finished the Uta no Prince-sama anime and your opinion of this man is "wow, he's kinda terrible," I don't blame you. in fact I've seen a lot of people say this

In this post, I want to talk about his characterization in the games and give my two cents on what the anime was trying to do with him, especially in his single focus episode Saintly Territory (S3E6).

Disclaimer: I wrote this on a whim because I'm sick and stuck at home so if anyone reads this, sorry I might go all over the place

Spoilers for all of the games!

The "be my slave" thing

Starting with Anime Camus's most egregious crime: treating Haruka like a servant/slave (however you want to translate it)

Basically in his focus episode, Haruka is tasked with writing a song for Camus. She wants to learn more about him in order to write it, but Camus will only let her follow him if she acts as his servant. She accepts without complaining, Cecil is rightfully angry, Haruka continues anyway and the song gets completed.

Now, am I about to say that Game Camus would never do this? No because he literally does lmao.

The anime doesn't pull this "servant" plotline out of nowhere, here's the context in his route:

Haruka accidentally overhears Camus talking about a plot to assassinate Saotome on the phone. When he notices that she heard everything, he basically tells her that he has to kill her now. But if she served him, he'd be able to keep an eye on her, make sure she doesn't leak anything, so she could escape death.

Okay uh "work under me or DIE" isn't exactly better, nor is it a good start to a love story, but I'm not finished!!

(A side note: I have to add that the anime made him look like an even bigger asshole and borderline dumb when it came to the things he made her do. Like he expected her to know that snapping your fingers means you want coffee without prior explanation. bro

^This might have been for comedic effect but I promise he can be actually funny and endearing.)

What the anime couldn't cover

The Camus episode wraps up with Haruka pulling through and writing a song that makes Camus "sincere," he says it's cool at the very end and that's the episode. I think the problem is that we technically didn't see him being sincere or what that even means to him, besides when he was singing (banger song btw)

It's a shame because in a 20-minute episode you really can't show the game experience of slowly piecing together what this man's problem is.

First of all, in Debut and AS you'll be quick to notice that he always has homeland and duty on the mind, constantly reminding himself that he's in Shining Agency/Japan for a reason, and it's NOT to have fun or make friends

The truth is, he slowly starts to appreciate the banter with his colleagues, music, and working there in general.

But because of his initial mindset, he has to rationalize & justify every connection he forms, like "it's just for work" or worse: "actually it was ALL A LIE and I NEVER ENJOYED A SECOND OF THE TIME WE SPENT TOGETHER, I'm such a great actor haha"

He uses that to fool himself and to push the other person away so it doesn't happen again. This scene is probably the best example:

(I'll be using google lens because it's faster but I checked that the tls were okay)

He also does this in the Non-Fiction drama, which may or may not have actually happened, but I think it's still a pretty good reflection of what could happen in reality because he tells Ranmaru their bond was a lie, then mopes around in his guilt thinking about the good times and wondering why he's sad, and THEN later doubles down on the "it was a lie, I don't care about you" because he just can't let himself get attached to anything.

Basically, he's terrified at the thought of forming actual bonds because he genuinely thinks he's nothing if he stops being a cold weapon:

At one point he does admit he sucks (as a love interest)-

-which is pretty huge by utapri standards. I love these games, but the amount of times where a male lead does something icky, and everyone, including Haruka, acts like it's normal or like it's Haruka's fault is ehhh but I digress

Upbringing

Of course he's very proud of his homeland and status, but sometimes it's to the point of thinking he can't be anything other than his title. So why is he like this?

We got to hear about his childhood from Camus himself a few times, and it often ended with Haruka thinking "wait? that's kinda messed up?" and Camus insisting it's nothing/it's normal so yeah that's something...

His parents were in an unhappy arranged marriage, and his mother was forced to birth an heir which traumatized her so much that she can't see Camus without falling ill. Overall it's a pretty tragic situation since what happened to her was horrible, though not Camus's fault either. Even now she refuses to see him, and I wouldn't say that makes him sad because he never really met her, but simply knowing of her sacrifice probably adds a lot of pressure. As in, he only exists for this one purpose (inheriting his father's title and serving the country), so if he doesn't play his part correctly, it would have all been for nothing.

He was raised by his father not as a child or son but as the heir, always treated and judged as an adult (even during physical training apparently, make of that what you will)

When Haruka asks about childhood memories he has a very hard time finding something that doesn't have to do with his duties or the nation. And then admits he didn't truly have a "childhood" since he was never treated like a child

As for the queen, I think his love for her is sincere: she taught him a lot of things growing up, and according to him, she's also a victim trapped by her duties so he wants to ease the burden.

So hypothetically, if he found things or people that made him happy in Japan, he would feel obligated to lock them away because that happiness is incompatible with his life: he'll have to leave when his mission ends, he shouldn't be spending time on things that aren't "useful" as he doesn't have the free will to pursue them

In his mind he's completely tied down by the fact that he was born and raised for a single reason, and the fact that he does want to serve the queen.

(This is Saotome describing him btw)

Also it might sound ridiculous to bring his self-worth into question because of how pretentious he is, but I've counted a few situations where he seemed to have complete disregard for his own life, only worrying about Haruka and Cecil's safety in scenes when they were present. And he thinks wanting to be loved unconditionally is a childish thought he shouldn't have.

"Double Face" was a lie. There's like at least 10 layers

On the surface he does have two personas, his perfect polite butler act for the media, and his cold bitchy attitude off camera. But honestly, even when he's not acting as a butler, he's often putting up a front to hide any form of vulnerability (from himself as well)

His main struggle is finding who he is outside of what he's being told to do. Before, he never actually stopped to think about what he WANTS because it just never occurs to him, or if it does he ignores it.

That's why realizing that he has his own desires is essential to his character development, and him staying with Quartet Night (and Haruka in his routes) is so important. It's why Reiji feels the need to reach out and when he does, Camus either freezes up or tears up;

This all makes him the opposite of Ranmaru (being true to yourself and sincere), and similar to Ai (gradually learning to view the world in a less cold and logical way), but I kind of want to save that for another post lmao

He is especially hard on Cecil because Cecil says & does whatever he wants, and everything still works out for him, which is a way of life that Camus can't imagine for himself at all (despite maybe wanting it?)

That he can realize this and eventually admit out loud, despite all his pride, is also one of my favorite things about him

Season 2 does hint at something, so that's pretty cool!

Side note, I really love that his theme in the new Oracle series is "Change," the melting of ice.

So what was the anime supposed to do??

Of course there's no way to show all this in a single episode or even during the runtime of the anime, and I never expected them to because the story is very surface-level (that goes for all characters).

It's just unfortunate since the anime is the most accessible and well-known utapri media in the western fandom, and the character's main episode is bound to leave the biggest impression.

I understand the choice of being laser-focused on the servant plotline, it's supposed to be funny (?) and waters him down to a trope that's easy to understand at first glance (the step-on-me guy I guess)

Still, I can't help but compare it to Ranmaru's episode, who was also hard to work with in the games but was chill in S3E7 and got to pet cats. Anime onlys will never know how much Camus loves to dote on his dog smh.....

[shatcey]

Dark IF (William)

The main part of this event basically coincides with William's main story. I'm not even kidding. The same situations, the same words… At first I was pretty sad about it but… the endings are really good.

Of course, I finished both of them. I liked the bitter ending better. Perhaps, like certain someone (who say the exact opposite), I love drama too much.

After Victor send Kate to the twisted word with parting words "it's in you hands to find the happy ending..." Kate recalled...

Not creapy at all... all things considered...

As soon as Kate appears in the twisted world, she meets Cheshire cat Liam. Who introduced himself quite happily. Suddenly the bell rings. And Liam explained that this meant that someone had been beheaded on the orders of King of Hearts William. And this is a common occurrence in this world.

Kate seemed to ask too many questions about William, and Liam asked if she was interested in him. But no, she just needs to find what's missing. The lying Fox Harrison appeared. And Liam recommends him as an informant.

I'm not in a position to judge, but if someone was presented as a "liar"… why would you trust him? And even more so to buy information from him? Who knows what he's telling you. Well, we all know that we can trust Harry, but this is her first time meeting him. There's no way she could have known about it.

Kate had nothing to pay, so she decided to look for information on her own. Liam told her about William's abilities and advised her to be cautious around him.

She decided that it would be very stupid to meet William without preparation. This guy must be crazy (these are her thoughts, not mine). She resolutely went to the city and… found herself in front of his castle. It's really a destiny.

She looked at the strangely familiar castle (familiar to me, not to her), but decided that she shouldn't go there…

How did he manage to jump so high? Is he magical? Don't tell me it's Benjamin… Wait a minute… Jewel? Victor? Are you playing matchmaker again, you little... rabbit?

And, of course, there were no guards or servants in this castle, so no one stopped her, and she ended up in the dining room with William… There may have been servants there, but they've been turned into furniture or something. Oh, sorry… the wrong fairy tale…

How did he know her name? He… сan't read minds for real this time, can he?

…and we on his main route. Do fun stuff and became free from the morality and expectations of society. And, of course, Kate fell for him very hard. Nothing new.

A sudden thought…. Are we stuck on Groundhog Day by any chance?

She couldn't find what is missing so returned to Harrison. Harry asked her what she would give him for this information.

Harry replied with his canonical "that's not half bad" and told her about William.

It turns out that the people William executes have committed terrible crimes in the past, but cannot be judged by the law. So he chooses the path of destroying "evil with evil". Strangely familiar isn't? And since the bells were ringing at that time, many people were so scared of it that the number of crimes in this country decreased significantly.

And as a bonus, he added that there is Mad Hatter who is plotting something against William. He wants to dethrone William and take his place. Indeed, this guy is crazy.

Kate returns to the castle and asks William to explain himself. So he tells her about why he frees people. He said exactly the same as he said on his route. A selfish observer… something like that. And he asks her what she wants, and… she tell him. And in the morning she wakes up in his bed, remembering last night and blushing. Typical Kate.

But she noticed opened letter and read it…

And here we have two endings. The developers don't give any recommendations, but it seems to me that chronologically the bitter ending comes first. You'll understand what I mean.

Bitter ending

Kate remembered her conversation with Harry and decided that she needed to warn Will about Mad Hatter. But she searched the whole castle and couldn't find him. She thinks he's probably gone to the court, and she has a very bad feeling about it.

She ran out of the castle, just wondering for a moment where exactly the court was, and Liam ran up to her. Explaining that there was a commotion in the court, but he didn't see her and became worried. Kate asked him to show her which way the court was, which he did.

In court, the final verdict is announced by the judge

I'm so glad it's not Vivi. This guy is really crazy.

The guards pulled out their guns and pointed them at William. Wait a minute… Are you going to do it right here? There will be blood everywhere… Oh, you have red carpets, so there's nothing to worry about. Okay, continue.

At the last moment… Kate jumped out of nowhere and covered Will with her body. I really thought he was going to die this time… But that's impossible when Kate is around.

Right, we need Roger! Roger, where are you? Oh... right... the wrong fairy tale... again

He asks her why she did it, and she replies that she doesn't know, her body moved on its on. She loses consciousness due to blood loss and doesn't hear his words.

I have goosebumps. This is so…

She thinks that she still cannot leave, she has forgotten something… In the black void of nothingness, she finally remembered. Then she was a child and could do whatever she liked, she visited Wonderland and met the king of hearts. They spent several days together, and she did whatever she wanted, and if she was in danger, William protected her. But he said she had to come home. As parting words, he asked her to be honest about her wishes. She asked him what if she became the one who wouldn't do it?

Oh, so this is what she heard at the beginning?...

Kate opens her eyes and find herself in the library. There is no pain or blood on her. She's definitely returned back to the real world. She remembers everything. She promised to protect him when they met again, but she forgot about it. And because of that, she faced such a bad ending. She looks around and thinks that, despite the fact she return to the real world, this place seems bleak. Because her lover is not here…

She thinks that even if she finds herself in Wonderland again, the same ending may await her. But her heart is free, and it screams that she wants to see him again… And this time with determination to find her happy ending… she "jumps" into the book.

Victor and Harrison are in the theater-like place. Harry informs Victor that Kate will be coming back to them soon.

I'm not sure if Vivi said "you", he could say "we" or "me"… I didn't take a screenshot with JP's text.

So… this endless sad circle can only be broken with a happy ending. And for that, she just needs to find what is missing…

Premium ending

Kate read the letter and decided to warn William again, but this time he came up to her with a tray of tea.

Oh, can you make tea? Why am I even surprised, you're the same perfect self.

She asks him about a letter and what he plans to do. Of course he will come, because that's what he has to do to stay true to himself. She reply he could be killed… But he doesn't think that's a big deal. Kate clings to his jacket to keep him from leaving… And we're back to his route…

Kate begged him to cancel the order, not to leave her… But he only smiled and kissed her on the forehead. The door closed and Kate wondering why this William's kiss seemed so familiar to her. And she remembered memories from her childhood. When they parted, she promised to protect him the next time they met, he laughed and planted a soft kiss on her forehead.

They must be magical…

So… Remembering everything, she was even more determined to help him, but that she could possibly do… Scream, girl, it always works if you need to attract attention.

But she didn't even have to do that, Liam came in. She's freed from Will's order and can run after him, and the same as it was at the Bitter ending, she asked Liam to show the way.

In court, the judge passes the same sentence, the guards point guns at Will, and Kate jumps in front of him again

Will laughs and asks her why she acted like it was the end. Kate suddenly realized that she didn't feel any pain. She looked at the place where she thought she had been shot.

As I thought… The watch is magical… It catches all the bullets.

Will looked around at the people in court, ordered them to "Not move" and called Harrison over. Harry showed up and explained that Mad Hatter was spreading false rumors about William, but in fact these were his crimes. And members of parliament take bribes to hide them. Criminals!

William said that if it was only Mad Hatter's sincere wish, he would have allowed himself to be killed. But Mad Hatter started destroying other people's lives, and he can't forgive him. So…

And again, it's good that they have red carpets… What am I saying?..

Several days later Kate and William are having a crazy tea party for two in the dining room. Kate asks if he knows what is missing. She hasn't returned home, so she still hasn't found it. He says if she wants to come home, he won't stop her. But she means exactly the opposite. If she had known what was missing, she would never have found it to stay with him forever.

So he has a theory, but...

This kind of won't help… I'll definitely forget what we talked about in an instant…

I didn't buy epilogue, but I probably will… if so, I will write about it later. If there's anything in it besides "hot stuff". And… if there's still a point in it. This event will most likely take place on the EN server in late November or early December.

My thoughts

I really like the way they combine everything together. The clock, the voice she heard, the feeling that she had forgotten something important… It's really amazing. At first, I was really upset that story was repeated. But the developers managed to create a new version based on the old one, and it's really amazing. After a slight change in the key points, everything looks completely different. Will's magic call was presence on the main route, but it was a subtle hint like her deep thoughts. This is the main key here. He called her, he lured her into this world. The first, the second time… maybe millions of times. And she continued to follow his call. It really feels like destiny.

I'm actually really curious… If William's story is so similar with his route, maybe other's stories as well? I haven't read Alfons's story, I was waiting for it to appear on the EN server, so I can't be sure.

I really like the idea of Victor as a god-like character, a kind of storyteller… who knows how the story should be like… and don't stop until it's exactly like that. Or… I have goosebumps… he is destiny itself.

And I'm really interested to know what the role of the Fox is in this world… Why does he remember everything, even if everyone's memories supposed to be reset?

In addition, I want to say that the part in the real world on the bitter ending is written so well that I was tempted to show you the whole scene. But I was stopped by the number of screenshots that I could put in one post. I really like it, it gives me goosebumps, no matter how many times I reread it. And yes, I cried… It's too good…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

🔝 𝕊𝕋𝔸ℝ𝕋 ℙ𝔸𝔾𝔼 🔝

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[mvmnbnv]

Am i blind for not seeing how Caitlyn manipulated Vi? I keep seeing this take and I don’t understand it. She hurt Vi in an inexcusable manner, both physically and emotionally by making classist implications in her anger…

But manipulation? If Caitlyn wanted to manipulate/ guilt-trip Vi into joining the enforcers or killing Jinx all she had to do was say “I had the shot” to Vi instead of her father. But she didn’t bring up the dinner at all or oil & water for that matter. In fact not only did she not blame Vi (initially) or guilt-trip her; Caitlyn blamed herself: “My arrogance led me to take on more than i could handle and she paid the price”. That’s something someone like Vi who always blames herself and takes responsibility for everything really needed to hear so i was happy with it.

I think Caitlyn’s intentions were genuinely good throughout the first episode, both regarding Vi & the undercity but she still had the same flaws from season 1: thinking the enforcers are the ‘good guys’ here and there are just a few bad apples among them (i bet she probs thinks the ones who killed Vi’s parents were just bad apples lol) ; approaching some matters in an insensitive, entitled manner (springing the badge on Vi instead of having a conversation with her first about the reasons why she thinks it’s the best recourse… well at least she apologized for that ig)

I already feel like they pushed Caitvi in a terrible direction that’s hard to come back from in a satisfying way… i think if people willfully misinterpret ALL of Cait’s actions in the worst possible light you guys really won’t be happy w the ending bc there’s a point a relationship really can’t come back from in a healthy way. I doubt even now if it can…

I haven't used the word manipulative just yet because it's a pretty touchy thing with a specific meaning, but apparently you can be manipulative without knowing. She plays on vis emotions a lot, telling her wearing a badge is how she can show that she doesn't support jinx, which just isn't true. She doesn't need to wear one to show that. I'm not gonna blatantly say it's outright manipulative but it leaves a bad taste in my mouth nonetheless. And just blatantly enlisting vi after she explicitly said no and explained her trauma around enforcers is just...bleh. maybe distasteful more than manipulative but regardless it's just icky.

And yeah a lot of people think they're doing right but are actually just awful..."interpreting her actions in the worst possible light". How else am I supposed to interpret what she's done? She undid a ventilation system that gave the undercity clean air, she enlists vi after she said no, saying its easy to hate zaunites, is ready to get jinx even at the cost of a childs life, ffs she hits vi and leaves her there, it's bad, some of it downright corrupt. Apologizing to vi for springing the badge on her doesn't negate her bigoted attitude toward her and the entire undercity, it's not vis job to prove anything to her, especially if it ultimately means letting anyone get hurt at the cost of getting jinx. She sees vi as her possible example of what people of the undercity could be, and even that's fucked up, because once vi doesn't do things the way she wants she thinks she's "no different" than jinx or any other zaunite. I don't think they could have a healthy relationship with all this. I don't even want vi around her after all that tbh. I know it's gonna happen tho so I'll just see what they decide to do

[lena-kieran-zor-el]

I’m sorry, I have to push against this. This is a lovely reading into what the series has *become*, but the original game did not commit to the queerness of it, nor was it at the focus of the story. The original creators at DONTNOD specifically stated *publicly, in interviews* that a romantic relationship between any of the main women was not directly intended nor was it the point. Their point was that it was about the strength of their friendship, per their own words. They have stated, as tactfully as artists refusing to take hard stances do, that if you saw that in them then it was true for you.

We had to fight for years for acknowledgement of Pricefield by the studio, getting piecemeal crumbs along the way. Koch may be publicly in favor now, but he was awful shy about it for quite some time after release. Moreover, this game did also go through periods where that relationship was considered queerbait AND an example of burying your gays. Considering the only ending in which you could show romantic affection to Chloe was one where she dies, it’s not hard to see why that was the discussion.

Moreover, picking Bae wasn’t a choice about happiness - it was a choice about which atrocity you could live with - that’s the moral background of the trolley dilemma to begin with. You aren’t inherently more moral for picking one over the other - it’s for you to find the answer about what wouldn’t destroy you. Every Bae ending exists in the shadow of the death of so many people, and there are just as many justifiable endings in which Max and Chloe’s story goes this way than there are not.

And as I’ve said in other posts - I fail to see how this somehow ruins their relationship. There’s an after to this story, one in which the trauma Max deals with for her trolley dilemma is finally embraced and accepted, *the very thing that was interfering in her relationship with Chloe.* This game told us the story of a girl finally putting her demons to rest, and you think that means the designers hate Pricefield? This setup now gives any opportunity to see them back together, whether they’re able to do it (because game devo is a landmine industry rn) or not, even if we don’t see Chloe again, Pricefield can actually still have a happily ever after *and now Max doesn’t have the guilt crushing her anymore*.

I love the original game, and I love that the queerness that I saw in my first playthrough finally not only got acknowledged but became the mainstream opinion. But it is fundamentally incorrect to suggest that it was always the intention and that D9 somehow trod on that, when they actually canonized Max as a queer girl AND canonized a Max and Chloe romantic relationship beyond, any doubt.

It’s fine to not like Chloe’s absence - I have my own feelings on that. But memory holing the battle we had to go through to get here feels pretty terrible, like you’ve invented a history that moralizes your dislike that just leaves out the inconvenient reality.

"but it's realistic that they would breakup"

Not the point.

"But they had a lot of trauma the re-"

Also not the point.

"But at least she's a-"

Absolutely not the point.

Y'all trying to justify a narrative choice from within the narrative constraints.

That's a mistake.

Just like how many people never understood why so many would pick Bae ending, so many people just don't seem to get what the pairing meant overall.

Y'all realise what this pairing meant to people when it came out?

Despite the issues with the ending, the adoration and love the pairing has to this day has been earned by the game - it's inseparable from the franchise and it's reception.

It wasn't just another pairing. It wasn't just something that existed as bait or something within fanon or something developers never committed to.

Through the years plenty of ships get baited disingenuously while throwing the audience nothing but breadcrumbs - for example the disaster of Sherlock fandom, the mess with Supernatural, Teen Wolf, Voltron and so on. Or the way Blake/Yang in RWBY were the most blatant baiting that got no on-screen development(despite all the setup that show ignored for years) till the moment the show literally was getting axed and they wanted to milk LGBTQ+ community for money one last chance, skipping all the development to characterization characters deserve and attempting to bribe LGBTQ+ community with breadcrumbs at the last possible second.

And some shows would stumble into something important but fail to realise it and thus end up squashing it - ask Buffy fans about Tara and Willow or The 100 fans about clexa.

There were LGBTQ+ pairings in video games too but rarely they would be so front and center and very often would be playersexual.

This wasn't what Life is Strange ended up being.

Life Is Strange, at the very core is about queer experience - about fitting in, about making connections in the world that rejects you, about finding beauty in the life that hates and hurts you - Max and Chloe's relationship is the key to the entire game.

For some that meant letting go but for others? It gave the chance to fight a trope no matter what and to get an ending, albeit flawed, where a WLW pairing they liked can be happy and face the future together.

People lived through those two characters and their experiences finding something genuine to relate to.

Max and Chloe were that generation's Korra/Asami, Willow/Tara, etc.

Even DONTNOD recognised that in the end and treated it with respect.

Double Exposure might not pull a BYG outright but it sure does everything to kill the happy memories a fandom made about the pairing - to go back through every single ray of sunshine one ending got and subvert it, taint it, reject it.

Picking the Bae choice when playing Double Exposure is the Narrative constantly telling you how wrong you were to expect happiness when you picked the ending where the pairing is intact and how acshually it isn't intact!

It doesn't kill the characters but it sure goes an extra mile to kill what those characters MEAN to the audience.

Realism, plausibility and so on come after - it's what a writer does when they decide on a path. A writer doesn't just do something because it makes sense and is out of their control - they decide to do it and then make it make sense. Whether they succeed or not depends on how good a writer is.

Double Exposure isn't the story about a breakup. It isn't the story about two women dealing with their trauma.

Double Exposure treats an iconic pairing people cared about as a backstory element - nothing more.

Deck Nine expects the audience to accept what happened and move on to shiny new cast and possible new LIs.

The writers of Double Exposure are telling you - "look, this doesn't matter. Now here's a new mystery you can solve and new cast and look Max is back and you liked using her powers right? Use powers to do stuff."

To this developer team the core element of what made the franchise so important to its audience is nothing more than a leftover plot thread to "write around".

Because to these writers queer experience apparently starts and stops with searching for a relationship - someone being in a relationship that's not part of the story or someone being comfortable NOT being in a relationship at all just don't exist.

What Deck Nine writers seem to be doing is treating it as disposable or interchangeable/replaceable, while also inadvertently tainting whatever comes after with fandom rage.

The worst thing that can happen to a new character is being "the next love interest" - because people channel their frustrations towards the character (or in some worst cases, please don't do this, the actor).

Where there was an iconic part of the franchise Double Exposure, intentionally or not, sets up a toxic battle ground.

That's the point - treating LGBTQ+ audience as sales numbers, manipulating us, treating something that has been a formative experience to so many lives as disposable, or worse yet - malleable.

(And yes there's also a wider issue with Deck Nine and the working conditions there, misogyny, the nazi imagery and the rest but I don't think this is that disconnected from that? How they treat their audience and subject matter is a reflection of culture inside.)

[dreamwreaver]

Vox getting frustrated over the fact Alastor is getting too close to the princess.

Zestial hearing rumours of Alastor's involvement with Charlie's flight of fancy.

Lucifer thinking that Alastor was dating his daughter, only to be blatantly relieved to find out it was Vaggie she was dating.

Mimzy getting verbally booted out of the hotel by Alastor, who used to clean up after her and been her friend since they were alive, only because she brought danger to the hotel and before she leaves, says to have fun with "his little princess".

Angel half-jokingly remarks about Alastor and Charlie running away from their responsibilities which is a line often commonly used for a couple eloping.

Rosie, upon first meeting Charlie, says she's much too young for him, clearly kidding around about him finding a new date for her to formally meet.

So many hints, so many jokes, so many references to Charlie and Alastor's relationship... What does it all mean?? This is literally what foreshadowing a couple looks like, if this were any other show, of course.

Let's also add in the fact that he breaks his own rule of rather breaking his own bones to avoid being touched by people without prior consent for her specifically, is one of the go to people to make her laugh with a pun (the lowest form of humor depending on who you ask), made himself completely comfortable on her bed when she was at her lowest and CONTINUED to stay there even after she left thereby putting his scent all over the damn thing, refused to take her soul when we all know it was something Charlie would willingly give if it meant saving her friends and people from the exterminations, and quite possibly my favorite; the deer mating noises he makes around just her.

Or one of my favorite scenes in the entire show;

Take a moment and really look at this. Alastor's gaze remains directly locked on Charlie, who reciprocates. But as he leans an arm on the back of her chair, far less in her personal space than he normally is, she grows incredibly bashful. Now, nervousness is a fine reaction, but notice the body language. She sticks her hands between her thighs and and closes her knees around them. Now I don't know about you, but consider for a moment how deliberate every action in animation is. Are there not better ways to convey the emotion she's displaying that DONT look like she's been caught having naughty thoughts about the radio demon by said demon himself?

I would love to show this scene to a non hazbin fan and ask them how they interpret this. There's a new charlastor challenge for my fellow shippers. Show someone that gif and ask them how they interpret it.

And if we delve into the meta lore there's even more. Viv has gone on record with a doodle explaining that Alastor and Charlie's shared sense of humor is the lonely island song "Mona Lisa", and that there are precisely three named characters who like pineapple on their pizza: Charlie, Alastor, and Lilith. Far be it from me to tell Viv how to run her show, but let's also look at helluva boss; a love story between a royal of hell and a creature of lower status. One who has found a way to seize some measure of power and eke out their own path. A lower class being who had a terrible father and lost his mother whom he was the closest to. Someone who hates being in chains, and is so desperate to break free of them and yet finds only emptiness when he realizes he does give a shit about this royal he tried to convince himself he didn't care about.

Am I describing Blitz, or Alastor?

All I'm saying is, it wouldn't be out of her narrative style if it was endgame. And even if it isn't in a traditional sense, all current narrative beats indicate that Charlie is going to become Alastor's person, his exception to all of his rules, and the person who as someone so successfully dodged a straight answer about, "who he'd do absolutely anything for"

[i-hold-deaths-hand-in-mine]

an excerpt from alice's trial in my fic

Alice laughed, but stopped suddenly, looking conflicted. Her lips settled into a frown. “She wasn’t the best mom,” she admitted, despite the hurt it brought to speak the words out loud. “I…I didn’t know what she was doing for me, for our family – to walk the Road to end a curse. That kind of bravery, that kind of love, and all I ever thought about her –” 

She stopped to choke down a cry, then found she was already so empty of words.

Jen wrapped an arm around her. “Two things can be true at once,” she whispered. “You can hold them both together and they can still mean just the same.” Jen tried not to think about why those words nagged at her so much, as though they were also meant for someone other than just Alice.

“Yeah, I guess,” said Alice, unconvinced. It felt so impossible for her to reconcile with, to both acknowledge and understand that her mother was often two things at once – loving, and toxic; dangerous, and safe; berating, and encouraging…

…terrible, and beautiful.  

Perhaps, thought Alice, this was a truth to us all, and a foundation from which we are supposed to build: We can both heal from our parents’ mistakes and walk forth with their lessons. 

We need neither to let go or hold on; just move through the things that make us lighter, and try to find ways to lessen those that make us heavier.

All of the hurt that weighed her down for her entire life – her resentment towards her mother, her inability to form true relationships and connections because she never knew how to be properly loved – was it really possible to just let it go?

Can I be grateful for everything my mother did for me and still feel angry with her for everything she didn’t?

She let out a loud, freeing sob, then buried her face into Jen’s neck when the other woman – after an initial moment of startlement – pulled Alice into her.

I can , she knew was the answer. 

It was a truth she had said so many times – in therapy, to herself, to her mother’s picture, to exes who begged her to admit and confront and move through – but it was the first time she truly believed it, understood it. 

[schrijverr]

What Do You Mean You’re Not Really Together?

Divergence from chapter 7 to chapter 17, where Buck tells Hen – and only Hen – about Eddie and Chris. Hen takes it to mean he is married for real and not ready to be out at work, so covers for him, as well as lend a listening ear. It’s only when Eddie joins the 118 that she figures out that they’re not married-married. Against her will, she gets caught up in the dumbassery that is Buck and Eddie’s marriage, causing them to confess early.

On AO3.

Ships: Buddie, Henren

Warnings: implied/referenced homophobia, internalized homophobia, referenced ableism, referenced emotionally abusive parents, near death experience, minor character death mentioned.

~~~

Buck has been with the 118 for a few weeks already when he approaches Hen in the locker room. She was taking a short break after a noisy call, but was about to rejoin everyone when Buck comes to sit next to her.

She gives him a surprised look, not expecting the presence. Buck looks a little nervous too and she wonders what this is about. Hen has grown to like Buck, he’s not what she expected when he first came in, in a good way, so she’s a little worried what he could be nervous about.

“Uh, so, how long have you and Karen been together? Were you guys already dating when you started working here?” Buck opens with a curve ball.

“…No, I met Karen through Chim, but I was dating my ex, Eva, when I started here,” Hen answers cautiously, unsure where this will go. In her experience, it’s rarely a good thing when her random guy coworkers want to talk about her relationships and she’d hate for Buck to disappoint like that.

“Oh, that’s cool, that’s cool,” Buck nods, more to himself. He’s quiet for a second, seemingly hyping himself up to say the next thing as Hen waits with dread, please, don’t offer a threesome. She’s about to graciously extract herself, when Buck says with faux-nonchalance: “So you were already out when you started? Or did you keep it to yourself?”

Tentatively Hen unclenches her butt muscles, halting her move to leave. This is taking another yet interesting turn. “I didn’t go back into the closet for my job here. Everyone has always known I’m a lesbian. Why the sudden interest?”

It’s a gentle prompt, which Buck is grateful for. He feels horridly awkward and he knows this conversation is going terribly. He just doesn’t know how to talk about it all. He’s never been good at keeping things to himself and ever since he let himself feel how much he loves Eddie, he’s been dying to share it with someone. However, the only person he shares things with is Eddie himself, which means that won’t work.

His solution has been to share it at work, but he knows his whole situation is a little weird with them not being together like that and him flirting and sleeping around. He doesn’t know if he wants to answer all the questions about it. It feels weirdly vulnerable to actually talk about his feelings for Eddie.

So, he picked Hen to open up to. Out of everyone there, she’s the person who is probably the most open minded about all this and, unlike Chimney, she can actually keep a secret.

Still, he flounders a little at how to answer her question, glancing around and hunching in on himself, before he blurts out: “Uhm, I’m kind of very much in love with my husband and I don’t want to get all the questions, but I also need to be able to talk to someone about it, but we just moved here and I don’t have any friends outside work to talk to about this sort of stuff, unless you want to count Chris, but he’s six.”

Hen blinks a few times as she processes Buck’s word vomit. Firstly, husband, that’s a surprise on both the man and married front. Hen is embarrassed to admit that she let her own preconceptions get the better of her and didn’t peg Buck as a fellow queer. Nor as a married man. Her bad.

Secondly, Chris, who is six. Unless Buck is friends with a random six year old, Chris likely is their kid, making Buck a father. The way he is with kids on call and the ability to be mature suddenly make a lot more sense to her.

As for the rest, they have all long since learned Buck is a horrible liar and not great at keeping things to himself. He likes to share. For him to not be comfortable with being out while bursting with love for his husband must be torture. Hen feels for him, she wouldn’t survive if she couldn’t brag about her amazing wife to anyone.

Having parsed through all the information dropped on her, she gives Buck a kind smile, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. “You’ve been holding that in, huh?”

“A little yeah,” Buck flushes with embarrassment.

“Well, I’m here for you, if you feel the need to talk to someone,” she says. “The others will be too, but you don’t have to share if you’re not comfortable.”

“Thank you,” Buck smiles, not knowing how much hearing that would be a relief, until he did. He’s never been too open about himself and his sexuality, remnants of growing up in a household where being gay was okay, as long as it was other people being gay.

“Of course, we stick together.” Hen nudges him playfully. “Now, tell me about this husband of yours. Like, what’s his name?”

Eddie getting referred to as his husband sends a thrill to him and a giddy smile comes on his face involuntary. “His name’s Eddie. Eddie Diaz. We got married so I could adopt Christopher. He’s our son.”

Now that the dam has been breached, he continues on easily: “Eddie is an army medic, only came back to us four months ago. He got injured, so he’s still recovering. He doesn’t want to go back, but he hasn’t said what he wants to do after, but he’s probably going to be great at whatever he picks. He’s really smart and very nice. Not the most social and a little grumpy, but he’s so cute when he’s grumpy. He’s also cute when he smiles. God, the way he smiles when he’s playing with Chris.”

Buck actually has to stop himself from squealing, burying his blushing face in his hands, before he says with a muffled voice: “One of these days I’m going to die of an Eddie Diaz induced heart attack.”

Hen giggles a little at that. Buck sounds like a middle schooler with a crush and it’s kind of adorable, if she’s honest. “He sounds like a catch.”

“He is, I don’t know what I did to end up married to him honestly,” Buck groans. “He’s so handsome and so oblivious to the fact that he’s handsome. And he’s such a bitch, but in the best way. Like the way he stands with his hands on his hips? Kill me.”

Of course Buck’s husband would be a little mean, Hen thinks to herself, though she doesn’t share that with Buck. Instead she phrases it a little differently. “Sounds like the two of you balance each other out.”

“We do,” Buck smiles automatically. “We have each other’s backs, you know.”

Hen coos at that, but before she can say more, Chimney calls out: “What are you two whispering about over there?” startling them both.

Buck gives her wide eyes, knowing that he can’t come up with a believable lie. So, Hen does it for them, calling back: “We’re trying to conspire to steal your dinner pick spot to convince Bobby to make the nice lasagna.”

“First of all, that is so rude, I can’t believe my own friends are turning against me like that. Second of all, neither of you have even had the decency to try to convince me to pick the nice lasagna,” Chimney starts an offended rant, effectively ending the conversation the two of them were just having and shelving the topic.

Hen keeps quiet about it for the whole rest of their shift, since they don’t get a moment alone again, but she doesn’t forget. That night, she sits on her own couch with a mug of tea and says: “You never guess what Buck told me today.”

“Buck? That’s the new probie guy, right?” Karen asks. “The frat boy, who was better than expected?”

“Yeah, him,” Hen says. “He asked about how long we’d been dating and if we’d already been dating when I started working there.”

“Oh no,” Karen grimaces.

“That’s what I thought,” Hen exclaims. “But, as it turns out, married. Super married. And so in love with his husband he nearly burst apart with it.”

“Husband?” Karen gasps. “Really?”

“Uh-huh,” Hen nods. “Apparently he’s not comfortable being out, so you can’t tell Chimney, but he needed to tell someone. He’s a bit of an over-sharer, so I don’t know how he kept it to himself. They just moved here, so he doesn’t have anyone other than Eddie – that’s the husband’s name – to talk to it about it. He probably figured I’d be safe.”

“Ahw that’s adorable,” Karen coos. “A baby gay on the force.”

“I doubt he’s a baby gay, seeing as they have a six year old together,” Hen snorts.

“Wow, he’s a dad?” Karen says, a little shocked. “Isn’t he still a kid himself, you said he was twenty-five, right? That’s a teen parent. That must be rough.”

“Yeah, I suppose he is,” Hen says thoughtfully, she hadn’t even done that math yet. “But he said he adopted Chris and I don’t know how long they’ve been married or how old Eddie is, might be a bit of an age gap.”

“You didn’t ask!?” Karen exclaims. She loves office gossip and speculating right alongside Hen about their colleagues, it’s a way they bond.

“Chimney interrupted before I could,” Hen defends herself. “Besides, I’m not sure if I should push or let him come to me with information. I mean, he clearly didn’t want to be out at work, he just didn’t have another place to go. And you know how annoying it is when people feel entitled to information about how you got your child, since he’s not biologically yours.”

Karen groans, collapsing against the couch cushions petulantly. “Ugh, I hate it when you’re right. But you’ll tell me if he says something, right?”

“Of course, this is the best thing that happened to the 118 since Bobby became Captain,” Hen says.

In the end, it doesn’t come up again until a few shifts later when Buck is pocketing the number of a cute looking blonde with a smile, giving her a little wave as she leaves.

“What do you do with all those numbers? Do you just throw them away?” Hen is suddenly next to him asking that. She can get flirting with girls to cover the gay, but the amount Buck does seems a little excessive, not to mention that she’s seen him give out his own number too.

“No?” Buck frowns. “Sometimes I use them. That’s usually why you ask and give out your number.”

Hen looks around to see if anyone is listening in, but no one is close. So the answer can’t have been about that. Confused, she frowns back: “What happened to being too in love with Eddie Diaz to function?”

“Oh,” a realization appears on Buck’s face and he flushes with embarrassment and shame. “Uhm, Eddie’s not into that,” not into me, he swallows painfully. “We have an open marriage. It’s not like I’m sneaking around behind his back,” just maybe flirting more when he can’t see so I seem like an option, he adds again mentally.

Ah, that makes sense, Hen thinks. Eddie is probably asexual and being polyamerous would add another layer to not wanting to share. The 118 is open minded and Hen has found a lot of acceptance in her current coworkers, but there are limits to what some straight, and even other queer, people can comprehend. She understands not wanting to push those limits as the new probie.

So, she nods and says: “Makes sense. Maybe keep it off the clock, though. I think Bobby is side eyeing you about it. It’s a little unprofessional.”

Buck turns to where Bobby is. Indeed he is watching the two of them with a calculating look, eyes also flicking to where the blonde disappeared. Buck blushes a little under the scrutiny. “Noted.”

Hen doubts he noted it, when he gets fired for fucking on the job a few weeks later.

Still, just because she thinks he’s a dumbass, doesn’t mean she doesn’t feel for him. It’s rough, to get fired like that and she wishes she could do something, but he did that to himself. And she knows that expression on Bobby’s face, he’s serious and set on taking this course of action, no matter how much they all hate to see it happen.

When she sees Buck sit all alone in the locker room, she can’t help but come over. In a mirror of that conversation a few weeks ago, Buck opens, this time more defeated than awkward. “I guess you heard?”

“Yeah,” Hen says with a sympathetic look. “For what it’s worth, everyone thinks it sucks.”

“It’s my own fault.”

Hen grimaces, though she does it with kindness. “Yeah, everyone thinks that too.” She pauses for a moment, then goes on: “I’ll be honest. When Bobby first brought you on board, I told him he should just get a Dalmatian instead. But you surprised me and I’m legit sorry to see you go. I can’t imagine this will be easy to explain at home.”

“No, Eddie’s going to kill me,” Buck sighs, before groaning and burying his face in his hands. “I’m such an idiot. I can’t lose this job. Eddie doesn’t have an income and Chris can’t go without insurance, he needs medical help.”

“Is he ill?” Hen asks, suddenly concerned.

“No, CP – cerebral palsy – he needs PT, crutches, glasses, support,” Buck explains. “We can’t afford all that without insurance. How am I going to explain to Eddie that I lost our kid his insurance?”

“And Bobby wasn’t sympathetic to that at all?” Hen can’t rhyme that with the Captain she knows.

“Bobby didn’t let me explain, didn’t even let me talk,” Buck says. “And even if he did, I doubt he’d believe me. I mean, you know what everyone here thinks of me. In a moment of desperation pulling out a whole family that no one knew about with a husband, who just happens to be okay with me sleeping with someone else? Yeah, right.”

He sounds so bitter yet also so anguished and sad. Hen has never heard him like that and it makes her gut churn.

Buck sighs again and rubs his face, before he turns to her, suddenly hopeful. “Hey, maybe- maybe you can talk to him for me. Tell him I need this job. He might listen to you. You can-”

Hen doesn’t have to come up with an answer, because the alarm starts blaring, interrupting Buck before he can even finish asking.

She’s grateful for that, because she isn’t sure what to say to that. She doesn’t know how to make his case for him. They all agree he fucked up, including Buck. Unless he can show that he is an asset, Bobby can’t justify giving him another chance and, like Buck said, Hen doesn’t know if he’ll go for the surprise family story.

Bobby comes to call her away. Though she sees him give Buck an almost apologetic helpless look. He also didn’t want Buck’s career to end like this.

She knows Bobby has taken Buck under his wing. He instated him as his sous chef, worked to get him into the fold, mentors him. Bobby likes Buck. They all do, but Bobby acts pretty paternal when it comes to their probie.

However, as stated before, Bobby can’t justify giving Buck another chance. Hen can make his case, but it won’t matter. Not unless Buck can prove himself, but he can’t prove himself without a second chance. A second chance he won’t get.

It makes her stomach turn sour and it tugs at her chest.

Yeah, Buck fucked up by sleeping with yet another woman on the clock, however, he doesn’t get to defend himself and plead his case, because his relationship makes him susceptible for discrimination and misunderstanding. He doesn’t get to ask for that extra chance he doesn’t necessarily deserve, but definitely needs.

Hen knows – she just knows – that if Bobby heard about Eddie and Chris, who rely on Buck’s income, that would be enough to justify that second chance to himself.

But she also knows why Buck didn’t try harder to fight for that chance to explain himself, why he took the shut down and rolled over. Why even now, Hen isn’t sure if he would like her to out him for that small chance at keeping his job.

She herself experienced that risk every goddamn day, when she chose to be out and paid the price under Gerrard. And even though Bobby is miles better, they can never know where his limits are and Buck’s relationship is harder to rhyme with Catholicism than Hen’s, no matter how stupid infighting and respectability politics are.

So, she twists and she turns, trying to figure out if she should say something when Bobby asks her what she and Buck were talking about. Keeping it vague, while also pressing home that he needs this job and sounded serious.

In the end, she gets her solution when her phone rings and Athena asks: “I need a favor. Think you can loan me a fire truck?”

As expected, Bobby doesn’t want to fire Buck and the second Athena can vouch for him, that is enough to justify it to himself again. Hen saw that relief in his eyes when she told him what she did.

The two of them watch Bobby walk away, Buck looking as if the tension has been sucked out of him in a good way. Still, he gets a bit of his nerves back when he asks Hen: “Do you think he put in the paperwork yet and I need to be rehired, because that could mess with admin stuff, right?”

“Don’t ask me, only Cap knows that, but I don’t think he filed it yet if he managed to fill it all out,” Hen answers, unsure if Bobby can still hear them and not seeing the need to risk it. “By the way, what were you going to say, before we got called away?”

“Oh, it doesn’t matter anymore now, just wanted to make my case, so you could make it to Bobby, but guess I did that for myself,” Buck replies, also sending a glance to Bobby’s back

Hen lets him have it, though she playfully threatens: “Shove off, probie. You’re still on thin ice. And you owe me for this. If I ever need a favor, I-”

“Yeah, of course, I got you,” Buck says immediately without hesitation. “Thank you so much, Hen, you’re the best.”

“I know,” Hen smirks, though a flush rises in her neck. She hip checks him and shoos him off: “Go on, get back in uniform.”

“Aye, aye, ma’am,” Buck grins widely, skipping off.

The next day, she finds a box of homemade cookies in her locker. The icing on top of them is messily done and Hen can recognize the helping hands of a child quite clearly. She doesn’t have to think twice before she knows who put them there.

Indeed, when she looks up, she catches Buck’s eyes and he mouths: “Thank you.”

Hen gives him a smile in return, before hiding the cookies so she doesn’t have to share, or explain why she has them. As she does, she gives Buck a wink that makes him snicker softly.

When she comes home after her shift, she shares the cookies with Karen after they put Denny to bed. It is the right of a parent to hide the good snacks and Buck, as it turns out, is an incredible baker. While they munch on the cookies, she gives her the update on the whole situation.

Karen is still the only person next to Hen, who knows anything about Buck’s mysterious life outside of work.

She wants Hen to organize a play date between Denny and Chris, so she can meet Buck – or better yet – Eddie for herself. Hen can admit she’s curious too, but she’s been slowly easing her way in towards that. She doesn’t want to scare Buck off with how on the fence he’d been. Still, she thinks she’s getting closer and closer into his circle of trust.

Then Chimney gets a rebar stuck through his head and the world tilts. Chimney has been her friend for so long that she has almost forgotten what it was like to not know him. Without him, she doubts she would have made it through Gerrard’s reign of terror. He’s her rock. Her best friend and main person outside of Karen.

Her, Bobby and Buck hold vigil next to his bedside, while Hen slowly loses her patience and drives Karen up the wall with her worrying.

She’s sitting in the hospital next to Chimney’s unconscious form once more when Buck comes to sit next to her, nudging her as he says: “What a coincidence, running into you here.”

Hen gives him a tired smile, before confessing: “I’ve been driving Karen crazy with my worrying, she said I should just go here to calm me down a bit.”

“Ah,” Buck nods understandingly. “Same, kinda. Eddie kicked me out and told me to go, I’ve been driving him up the wall too. He offered to come with, but I don’t know, I’d feel awkward introducing him to an unconscious Chimney.”

“That’s fair enough,” Hen says. “Karen’s staying with Denny right now. But she’s been keeping him company while we’re all on shift, so he won’t be alone.”

Buck gets a little choked up at that, but he manages: “That’s really sweet. Thank her from me?”

“I will,” Hen assures him. “But it’s not a hardship for her. Chim is her friend too.”

“Yeah, you mentioned you knew her through him?” Buck prompts.

A sappy smile come onto Hen’s face as she says: “I did. He set us up on a blind date, though he didn’t tell me about it. I thought he’d stood me up for our drinks, but, hey, I wasn’t going to tell the beautiful woman who’d just sat down at my table that I wasn’t her blind date. I only told her at the end of the night and then she thought she got stood up by her blind date, which is when we put together that I was the blind date all along. Chim was her neighbor.”

“Really? Matchmaker Chimney? Who would have thought?” Buck laughs.

“I know right,” Hen smiles. “He caught me on my walk of shame out the door once and all he did was laugh knowingly, before asking if I wanted to carpool.” Her smile turns more melancholic and fond. “I never had anyone just accept me like that.”

Buck nods quietly, he probably understands very well. He puts a comforting arm around her and tells her: “He’s going to wake up. He’s gonna be okay. Chim’s too stubborn to let this be the thing that takes him down. He probably thinks he’s going down in a blaze of glory with explosions in the background and a movie score playing, but I have my money on old age.”

That makes Hen chuckle and she wipes her eyes. “Thanks, Buck.”

“Course,” he says, holding her a little tighter.

Talking to Buck made her feel better, but there is still so much anger at the world, so much tension as she anxiously waits for Chimney to recover.

It comes out when they’re on the call where some asshole locked a bunch of human beings, who probably paid him too much money to smuggle them across the border to have a chance to chase the American dream, in a truck. Calls like these piss her off and right now, she’s already on edge.

She and Buck work together to bring back a young boy and she is glad Buck is doing the talking to the parents. She doesn’t have the brain capacity to try and remember her high school Spanish. It doesn’t even surprise her that he talks easily to them, marrying into a family called Diaz probably means he’s surrounded by Spanish more than she is.

Before she can comment on it, however, she is distracted by the driver, who she recognizes from his driver’s license. Taking him down is satisfying, but not as satisfying as she’d hoped.

What is satisfying and exactly what she needs, is Chimney waking up that evening. They’re all relieved when he seems to understand them and is capable of reacting to their input. It can still go horribly, horribly wrong, but there are positive signs. They need positive signs.

However, they find out the hard way that positive signs doesn’t mean the positivity will last. A plane crashes and Bobby almost gets himself killed to rescue a mom. Buck too.

After nearly losing Chimney, she wants to smack Bobby and Buck for risking their lives like that. But she has a job to do and it gives her the perfect opportunity to give them the cold shoulder while she focuses on her patients until she has gotten over her fear enough to appreciate the two of them made it out alive in the first place.

She finds Buck shivering and completely soaked, still doing his job. No one told this idiot he should at least try not to develop hypothermia and she shoves a blanket into his hands with only minor frustration, before going to wrap up at the scene.

With mass casualty events like this, she always wants to hear Karen, Denny too if possible, so she calls them in the rig back to the firehouse. Some of the others are doing the same thing.

As she listens, her eye falls on Buck, who is tucked into himself in the corner, staring out of the window with a sad, wistful look in his eyes. In his lap, there is his phone, curled loosely into his hand unused. He probably wants to call Eddie and Chris, but unlike Hen, no one knows he has a family at home waiting, so he can’t.

Her heart aches a little for him and when she sees his phone start to buzz, his eyes lighting up at the contact, she ushers everyone along a little quicker. He deserves to have some peace of mind too after today.

She runs into him coming out of the shower, while he is obviously moving toward it. His shoulder seem more relaxed and his face has lost the little frown. Still, he’s shivering and his lips are a little pale. Should he drive? “Are you okay, Buck?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” he smiles, looking to mean it. “Just got offered a ride, which is great. My arms feel like they’re gonna fall off.”

Hen can relate to the feeling, though she still feels up for driving. She guesses Buck doesn’t after nearly dying on a crashed plane, so Eddie is coming to get him. “I hear you, I’m gonna sleep so hard when I get home. Want me to wait on your ride with you?”

Buck’s smile brightens at her offer, however he shakes his head. “Nah, I’m gonna shower real quick, Eddie should be here by then. Besides, we had a long day. Go home to your wife, Hen.”

At that, Hen hesitates. Buck is a grown man who can make his own choices, but she still worries for him. That worry is made worse by Chimney recently nearly dying and then Buck and Bobby nearly dying. For fucks sake, he’s still in his wet, sea-logged clothes.

However, she doesn’t feel like dragging all that up and dealing with that now, like Buck said, they had a long day. So she just says: “Alright. Goodnight, Buck.”

“Goodnight.”

After that goodbye, she watches Buck retreat into the shower for a moment. He looks steady on his feet and he held a good conversation, plus he is shivering , which means he’s not too cold yet. And he’s going to shower, warm up a bit, then put on dry clothes. Buck is going to be fine.

She tells himself, he’ll be fine as she makes her way to her car, repeats it when she gets in. She truly believes it too. And she probably would have driven away, if not for the small bit of nosiness that makes her curious about how the pick up will go.

So, she sits in her car in the parking lot and waits. Karen will probably forgive her for being a little late about this. She is worried about her friend. And collecting intell.

After a while, an unfamiliar, slightly beat up truck pulls into the parking lot of the 118 firehouse. In it is a young man, around Buck’s age. The famed Eddie Diaz. He is very handsome and she doesn’t think that often of men. It seems Buck hadn’t been exaggerating too much in his dramatic little spiel about his husband.

Eddie parks, then pulls out his phone, checking it, before putting it away again. He turns to the passenger seat, swiping his hand over it, before shaking his head to himself, as if he finds what he’s doing silly. Then he appears to turn the heating up, giving himself a satisfied nod.

He looks over at the firehouse, studying it with mild interest as he waits for Buck. His eyes periodically flick over to the entrance and Hen knows Buck must have appeared when Eddie’s face lights up with a smile.

Indeed, Buck is tiredly trudging over, throwing open the door without much grace and tossing his bag on the backseat, before he collapsing in the passenger seat. The exhaustion must be catching up to him, because he appears to let out a long groan. Hen feels her own lips quirk up right alongside Eddie’s at the dramatics.

Hen doesn’t know what is being said, but Eddie says something smugly, getting a half hearted glare from Buck as he replies. Eddie then retorts, making a face as if he’s mocking someone – probably Buck – as he moves to drive off.

Despite the bickering that has obviously started up, Hen knows it’s the fond kind. She can still remember Eddie’s care in getting the car ready for Buck and the way Buck smiled when he mentioned his ride. He seems to be in safe hands with Eddie.

With her worries soothed and her curiosity satisfied, Hen also turns on the ignition and pulls out of the parking lot.

What Hen hadn’t counted on in worrying about Buck, is that she should have been worrying about Bobby instead. The man has been in this line of work for so long and has cemented himself in Hen’s mind as a reliable Captain, who knows his limits.

However, he isn’t in for shift next time. Bobby is always there for his shift. In all her years under him, Hen can’t remember a day he missed for any other reason than being sick. And he always, always called in.

Finding Bobby the way they do is absolutely heartbreaking. He is in clear need of help, of someone to be there for him.

So they’re there for him. They check up on him after rough calls, reign him in when he snaps and sit with him in the quiet hours – though none of them will ever dare to use the word quiet.

Still, they don’t know anything about him, about why he started drinking and why he stopped. Bobby has a tight grip on his personal life, but Hen now learns that might be because he doesn’t have a personal life. Just a job.

She can’t imagine what that is like, what not having people to come home to is like. She probably wouldn’t have survived some of the things she saw these past few years if she couldn’t come home and kiss Karen or watch Denny smile.

However, it is incredibly frustrating to have him remain so closed off after asking for help. They’re trying to help, they want to help. But Bobby has to let them and he’s not letting them.

Buck is seemingly unaware of the tension between her and Bobby after she had to physically pull him away from the owner of that wedding venue, who used bad material. But she is very aware and Bobby is too.

The two of them are equally stubborn, locked into this tension, seeing who is going to break first. In the end it’s Buck, that breaks them both.

He’s laughing at that damn security footage of the carwash guy. He looks so happy, so joyous, it’s infectious. Both her and Bobby have to laugh too, it’s probably the first time they’ve laughed like that since Chimney got some rebar stuck through his head and it all went to shit.

It’s the power Buck has. He probably doesn’t even know it, but he brings them all together. It’s that youthful innocence he has, the thing that made it so surprising to Hen to find out he has a kid and a husband. It’s the kind of thing most people lose after life throws shit at them time and time again, but Buck never did. It makes you want to stick by him, makes you want to make it work.

So, they all laugh at this poor guy spinning in circles and when they’re outside again, Hen tries again to break through to Bobby and this time, Bobby lets her. It’s a first step.

The second step is planning Chimney’s welcome back party, which she takes very seriously, enlisting Buck’s help. It’s a very serious operation and most give her a wide berth, but Buck matches her energy easily. Though she makes a mental note not to hand him a clipboard again.

On their shift, they find themselves brainstorming ideas. They have been banished from the upstairs table and have instead set up shop on the back of the open ambulance, sitting side by side as they bounce ideas off one another.

When a quiet moment falls, Buck looks around, before asking: “Uh, do you and Karen do children’s birthday parties for Denny? Like just his friends?”

“We do,” Hen answers, easily clicking together why Buck is asking. “Is Chris’s birthday coming up?”

“Yeah,” Buck says sheepishly at being perceived so quickly. “We, uh- we haven’t done that kind of party before and we really want this party to be a good one.”

“I get that,” Hen nods. “New city jitters about organizing or were the others a disaster?”

“Mix of both,” Buck says honestly. “I wasn’t there for his third birthday, but Eddie was still on tour on his fourth and Shannon – his mom – had walked out on him around his fifth and then during his sixth Eddie was on tour again. So, he has a bad luck streak about people missing it. And it’s the first time we’re doing this without Helena – Eddie’s mom – trying to take over the planning.”

Hen’s heart aches a little at that. It can’t have been easy for Chris, his parents missing so much. Plus, it’s news to her that Chris’s mom left. She knew Eddie was the biological father, but she had half assumed there was some sort of custody with the mom or that there was an agreement to let Eddie have full custody, but this makes it sound like she abandoned her son.

She also mentally files away that Buck had been in the picture for two years before that happened. She wonders if he got married to Eddie after Shannon left to fill the void she left, since he did mention getting married so he could adopt Chris. Or if that had been a natural par of the course. Being together for fours years isn’t nothing. He could have recently married Eddie.

However, she can’t focus on any of that right now. Buck started this conversation to ask for help getting Chris a good party and after hearing that, she can’t not help.

“Was Helena a welcome help?” she asks, because if she was, then Hen can ask what she did and offer to do it in her place.

Buck’s vehement shake of the head tells her enough, but he confirms by saying: “Oh definitely not. I don’t want to come across as that classic guy that hates his mother-in-law, but no. Her help was very much not welcome.”

Hen can feel her eyebrows rise up at the strong words. It’s not that she doesn’t trust Buck’s judgment, because he isn’t the kind of guy to talk behind people’s backs and not try to see the good in people, but she knows how in-laws can get on your nerves.

It’s just because you see all the little things that make the person you love shrink in on themselves, all the little habits that have grown between them that they don’t see, but you do. So she thinks Buck’s perspective might be warped, causing her to sound a little skeptical when she asks: “That bad?”

“She calls Chris ‘special,’ which is her upgrade from ‘fragile.’ It’s a battle to get her to treat him like a kid and not a baby and that’s not even mentioning her hatred for my existence and the way she talks about Eddie’s parenting. Or Eddie’s choices in general,” Buck grimaces.

Immediately she cringes when Buck mimics the tone his mother-in-law uses when she says special. It is something she hears here and there from parents when they go on medical calls and it always sets her teeth on edge.

Then it somehow gets worse when Buck explains how she views him and Eddie. With that start, she didn’t think it would get worse. “Oh, homophobic?”

“Very,” Buck replies. “But at least she was willing to get past the whole married to a man thing to help when Eddie was on tour, though I think that was because she thought she’d have a better chance at taking custody of Chris that way.”

He sounds so casual about it and it breaks Hen’s heart. The possibility of losing custody is a terrifying thing and the fact that it’s the grandmother trying, when Hen cannot imagine a world wherein Buck doesn’t love that kid to death – and probably wouldn’t marry anyone who didn’t feel the same – makes it so much worse.

And the fact that he tries to give her credit for the fact that she’s ‘willing to look past the whole married to a man thing’ makes her blood boil. It also makes her realize that she’s never heard Buck about his own family, he vaguely mentioned Eddie’s tía and abuela once, but never his own. The realization makes a her gut churn.

She goes for a more nonchalant tone than she feels when she asks: “Would your parents not be able to look past it?”

Buck blinks for a second, as if he hadn’t even thought about that before. Then his face shutters closed and he fails at acting like it doesn’t bother him as he says: “Oh, I don’t know, it was always okay for others to be gay, we just didn’t do that. But they’d probably think I’m making the biggest mistake of my life regardless, letting myself get dragged down by a teen parent, even though I was already twenty-three when I met Eddie and started helping out with Chris full time. I wouldn’t know though, haven’t spoken to them in years.”

It’s the kind of story she’s heard a million times before and she wishes they’d stop, but alas, the world isn’t like that yet. Her own mom thought she was making a mistake when she married Karen, they’re in a better place now, but she can still remember that hurt.

The fact that Buck hasn’t spoken to them since before meeting Eddie and that he seemingly never even considered of informing them or having them know, says a lot about their relationship.

Wanting to do something, but knowing she can’t just undo things like this, she slings her arm around his shoulder and pulls him into her side, saying: “If they did think that, they wouldn’t know what they’re talking about. You’re not making a mistake, Buck. It’s never a mistake to be gay.”

“I’m bi,” Buck tells her.

Hen isn’t even bothered by his clear lack of knowing how to reply to that, so she just snorts: “That’s okay too.”

He lights up at that and Hen squeezes him again before letting go. It became a heavier topic than expected and she clears her throat, before she says: “But kid’s birthday party.”

“Yes, uh-huh, birthday party,” Buck nods, looking glad for the way out. “Chris likes science and animals. I’m thinking something themed, but I don’t know how to go about it. We didn’t do kid’s birthday parties growing up.”

Hen imparts as much knowledge as she can to Buck from her own experience throwing kid’s birthday parties – even if Karen wields the spreadsheets when they’re planning like no other – and they even come up with a good idea for Chim’s welcome back party when talking about theme-ing and food; a custom cake of his head.

Chimney’s welcome back party goes well, the cake is done one time and everyone from the A and B shift is there. Athena shows up too. Everyone has a good time.

And Buck later reports, sneaking in a thankful hug, as does: “Chris’s party was a success. Thank you. Now just surviving the full moon tonight and then the family party with the in-laws this weekend, and then we’ll have made it through.”

“Oh, I’m so glad!” Hen hugs him back. Before asking: “Is that why you have that weekend off while we’re on shift?”

“Yeah, I contemplated skipping out, but I’m not going to do that to Eddie,” Buck says.

“Well, if you need a place to hide out from the in-laws, you can always hide out at mine. Karen won’t mind the company,” Hen smiles.

“That’s very sweet, thanks. But they’re only here for the weekend, I can survive until Sunday afternoon,” Buck says.

“Okay, but good luck anyway,” Hen jokes, making Buck laugh.

When Eva calls, Hen decides she needs a bit of that luck for herself. Because she feels that urge to come when Eva calls and she doesn’t know why she wants to help her, even though she’s done nothing to deserve that help. Wonders why she allows herself to come close to getting caught up in Eva’s plan all over again.

It’s as if a part of her is still that stupid naive young woman she was with her, who didn’t see that her own girlfriend was dealing, until she was face down on her own floor, cops yelling at her. That desperate young woman, who just needed Eva to look at her. As if she still needs her to just look at her.

She feels that urge to go, gets into her car and puts the address into her navigation. She’s about to drive off when she spots Buck in the parking lot, making his way to his car. He catches her eye and gives her a big smile, waving at her, before giving her a thumbs up.

Without any conscious input, she smiles back and gives him a thumbs up back. He survived the full moon, now just the weekend with his in-laws.

Suddenly it hits her, that she is about to not survive the full moon, that she is about to allow someone like Eva back into her life, in her family’s life. Buck still has to make it through the weekend with awful people, but Hen doesn’t have to do that. She can go home and kiss her wife, maybe even be on time to tuck in Denny.

That small broken part that just needs to be acknowledge by Eva, feels so small when she realizes what she has.

Hen turns on the ignition and drives home.

At home, Karen is in the kitchen making herself a mug of tea. No, she’s making two mugs of tea. One is for Hen, because she knew she’d be home soon. She turns around and smiles at her. “Full moon as crazy as you’d feared?”

“Crazier,” Hen says, letting out a relieved breath, she hadn’t realized she was holding. Then she surges forward and kisses Karen as passionately as she can.

When they break apart, Karen lets out a confused giggle, asking: “What was that for?”

“Just happy that I have you,” Hen answers. She doesn’t know how to put into words the last few hours of feeling, just that she is happy that Karen is there.

“You’re sure nothing happened at work?” Karen asks.

“Yeah. I’m sure,” Hen says. “Eva called.”

Karen tenses in her arms and her voice gets an odd tone as she replies: “Oh. And- And what did she want?”

“She wanted me to meet her,” Hen looks at the clock on the oven, “right about now.” She looks back at Karen and smiles. “I personally thought, I had better places to be.”

“Well, I do agree with that.” Karen perks up with a blush and a happy uptick in her voice, before leaning in and kissing Hen again.

After they tucked Denny in, the two of them spend the rest of the evening on the couch, yelling at trashy reality TV shows as they wrap themselves around each other. The next day, Hen catches up on house work, before heading in for her shorter shift on Friday.

Buck is a little tense all day. Hen clearly picks up on it, but she supposes that is because she knows he has a reason to be worried. All the others appear not to notice, until they’re done with their shift and Buck’s civilian clothes are nicer than the ones he usually leaves the station in. Not to mention the way he’s messing with his hair in the mirror.

Hen wants to give him some encouraging words, but it’s not the time. A fact that is exemplified by Chim, who stops as he walks by and asks: “Who are you cleaning up nice for?”

“No one,” Buck lies. Like, very clearly lies. It must be hard, trying to keep a secret like that when you’re that bad at lying.

To throw him a lifeline, Hen asks: “You have a hot date or something? Called back one of those numbers?”

“Ahhh,” Chimney waggles his eyebrows. “Spill. Come on. You can tell us. It’s not like we haven’t heard about your sex life in great detail, don’t tell me you’re shy when it comes to the dates.”

Buck’s pale skin clearly shows his bright blush and Hen can’t help but tease a little. She coos: “Ahw, he is shy,” causing that blush to deepen.

His watch seems to give him the out he needs, because after checking it, he says: “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. Now, I have a hottie to pick up and I don’t want to be late,” before hightailing out of there, so they can’t ask more questions.

Hen decides to send him a text of support before going home. There is nothing more for her to do and unlike Buck, she only gets enough hours off to get some sleep in before she has to be right back.

Next to her, Chimney comments: “Didn’t he take the weekend off too? Lucky bastard is probably going to get laid.”

“Probably,” Hen snorts, amused at Chimney’s perception of Buck. She doesn’t blame him too much, without him coming out to her, she likely would have thought the same.

They don’t hear from Buck all weekend. Hen hopes that’s a good sign, but she feels apprehensive as they wait for Buck to come in when he’s joining them for their shift again. A feeling that gets proven right when she sees his slumped shoulders as he throws himself onto a chair.

Everyone picks up on it. Chimney speaks before she does, taking one look at Buck, before he whistles: “Oef, bad date?”

“You can say that,” Buck groans as he takes the mug of coffee Bobby offers him and slumps down over the breakfast bar.

Oh, that doesn’t sound good at all. Hen grimaces in sympathy, unsure what to do. If she didn’t know, she’d be nosing about, but she knows that he doesn’t want to talk about it and that he’s a horrible liar, so won’t be able to come up with anything.

“What happened?” When Hen doesn’t ask, Bobby does, sounding more concerned and less invested than she would have been, though a little bit of investment is still there anyway.

Hen sees Buck freeze for a split second, uncertainty in his eyes, before he quickly settles on: “The parents came by. They hate me.”

“That sucks,” Hen says gently, hoping he catches on to the comfort it’s meant to be. Going off the small smile he sends her, that message is received.

Chimney however, just raises his brow in surprise and a little offense. “That sounds serious.”

“I didn’t know you were seeing someone like that, why didn’t you mention it?” Bobby asks.

“But that’s it, I’m not. We’re not even dating,” Buck mopes and Hen’s eyebrows rise, half impressed, half amused by the spin Buck is giving this. She supposes that technically it’s not a lie, she wouldn’t say she’s dating Karen, she married her.

Luckily, before Buck can be interrogated further and pushed to a place where he can’t deflect anymore, the alarm goes and they all have to rush into their turn out gear, all of them complaining about not getting to eat breakfast instead of focusing on Buck’s problems.

She doesn’t get a chance to talk to him on the call itself, but all can see his mind is elsewhere. Chim at one point slides up next to her and nods at Buck, joking: “His marathon sex probably got interrupted, so the post-nut clarity never came.”

“Shut up,” Hen giggles, feeling a little bad for laughing when she knows it isn’t true.

Before she can try and stop him, while the others go up in the crowd upstairs when they get back, Buck is already gone too.

When she gets upstairs, he’s standing next to Bobby, taking over half the chopping work. Hen can’t blame him, she gets needing to do something with your hands to get your mind off things. So, Hen lets him have that and instead focuses on beating Chimney at cards.

A little while later, she looks up and Buck and Bobby are talking. Unable to help her nosy nature and wanting to be a good friend, she goes and grabs some coffee, listening in.

She clearly missed the start, because when she gets close, Bobby is just saying: “Hey, come on, kid. Look at me.”

His tone indicates that there is about to be some sort of fatherly advice or heart to heart. He’s clearly taken a shine to Buck and she suddenly wonders if she should be listening in on this. She chances a glance over and Buck is tentatively looking at Bobby. He looks scared and she knows she can’t let him face this alone. What if the part she missed was him coming out?

Bobby looks back kindly and says: “You’ve come a long way from the punk that walked in here. If you want things, like closeness, intimacy, trust, those things don’t come for free. Any woman you’ll meet has lived a life and she’s gonna come with some baggage. You’re ready for that, if you want that. But it sounds like you’re hoping to pull her out of this trap she’s in with her family. That’s not going to happen. What she needs is for you to step inside with her, keep her company in there. You can do it.”

Okay, so Buck didn’t come out. She cringes slightly at the words because of it, however, it’s clear Buck needed some sort of affirmation. She’s slightly glad Bobby did it for her. It’s not that she doesn’t want to be there for her friends, she does, but she doesn’t want to parent Buck. He’s her adult friend, not her son.

And it’s clear the words are something Buck needed to hear, because he says: “Thanks, Bobby.”

Bobby seems to sense that this is the end of the conversation and just gives him a paternal nod, before holding out a hand for the vegetables Buck cut. Buck smiles as he hands them over, Hen decides that they’re fine and retreats with her coffee.

She doesn’t manage to catch him all shift and he’s out of there like the wind once it ends. Probably desperate to go home and spend time with his family without his in-laws there, Hen thinks. She’ll ask about it all later.

Later, as it turns out, is next shift, where she has to watch Buck desperately fail to defend himself on giving dating advice and failing because he’s not ready to tell them all he’s married. Hen tries to back him up a little, but can’t too explicitly. Fortunately, they’re all saved from the train wreck of a conversation by the alarm going off.

When they get back, Chimney is eager to continue to offer his help to Bobby, following him out of the rig as Bobby tries to flee from him.

It gives Hen an opportunity. She starts out by saying: “That was an odd call. I mean, dead guy at a psychic’s place, who isn’t dead. Karen will love that.”

“Yeah, Eddie and Chris will get a kick out of it too,” Buck nods as he smiles, before it drops. “Though, it’s gonna be a while until I can tell them about it.”

“What do you mean?” Hen asks confused. They’re going to be home just after dinner and they’ll have time for breakfast before their 24 hour on Thursday, he’d find the time, right? Maybe Eddie is healed up enough to pick up a job again, but she’s sure she would have heard about that. She knows a lot about Eddie for a man she’s never met before. Buck likes talking about him.

“We thought they were staying for a weekend, but they were staying for the week,” Buck tells her with a grimace. “Since we’re so adamant to take their grandbaby so far away from them and all that.”

Hen’s eyes widen at that and she chokes: “For real?”

“Uh-huh, it’s been horrible,” Buck nods. “Eddie slept on the couch until Monday because his father made a stupid comment about Eddie becoming a kept man, I half expected to come home to divorce papers. Which honestly, wasn’t too far fetched, because apparently they were pushing Eddie to divorce me and he left them in a restaurant to Uber back, which is what finally made him want to out stubborn them and come to bed.”

“What?” Hen chokes.

“Yeah, it’s a whole thing. Hopefully they’ll behave at dinner tonight,” Buck sighs, before trying to find the silver lining. “But Chris is excited about his grandparents being in town and he hasn’t been too thrown off about how they’re treating them, though he said he’ll be happy to be eating popcorn again when they’re gone. They probably made a comment about that when they were watching a movie with him on Sunday. I kinda let that one be.”

“That’s sure something,” Hen says, voice a little high with wtf-ness. She can’t imagine her mom pushing her to divorce Karen or getting so much under her skin that she’d sleep on the couch about it. Unable to help herself, she asks: “Is Eddie that insecure about himself? That he’d sleep on the couch?”

“He usually isn’t and he’s actively trying to do better for Chris, but Ramon just gets to him. Helena too,” Buck assures her. “They’ve been practicing getting under his skin since he was a kid and by god, they’re good at it. One of these days they’re gonna go too far and I’m gonna have to do something, but we kind of agree that when it comes to family, you have the last call when it’s yours.”

“Still, that sucks,” Hen sympathizes.

“It does,” Buck agrees. “Can’t wait for it to be Friday, so I can stuff them on a plane.”

Before the conversation can continue, Chimney calls down from the loft: “What are you two gossiping about? Doesn’t matter. Help me convince Bobby to set him up.”

“We should probably go rescue Bobby, shouldn’t we?” Hen says.

“Yeahhh.” Buck starts doing a little jog towards the stairs and Hen follows after.

The rest of their shift goes mercifully well. As Hen leaves the locker room to go home, she squeezes Buck’s shoulder and pats him on the back. The two exchange a silent nod.

She gets home, late enough that Denny’s already asleep, but she knows there will be an extra plate left for her. As she makes her way to the kitchen, she already starts talking: “Babe, I love you so much and I need to tell you how much I appreciate your parents, because you will never guess what Buck- Karen?”

Karen is sitting at the kitchen table, looking shaken as she holds a letter. Hen cautiously steps into the room, frowning: “Did something happen?”

“Eva- uhm, she’s- she’s suing for custody. Of Denny,” Karen says after clearing her throat.

“What? How?” Hen exclaims, quickly walking forward to snatch up the letter to see for herself. She isn’t truly reading the words, though, just staring at the page. “She gave up that right.”

“She claims she was forced to do it. That she was in a bad place and wanted what was best for Denny, but now that she’s in a better place, she wants him back,” Karen explains.

“That’s bullshit!” Hen rages. “She can’t just do that.”

“We have the papers, she’s at least trying,” Karen sighs. “As happy as I am, you didn’t go meet with her, I’m now wondering if we could avoided this. If she wanted something else we could have provided and this wouldn’t have happened.”

“Hey, don’t. Trust me, don’t do that to yourself,” Hen says gently, sitting down next to her and hugging her into her side. “This is what she wants. How she works. She pushes, makes you question herself, makes you want to do things for her. Don’t fall for it. I did too many times, never turned out well for me.”

“I know, it’s just scary.”

“It is,” Hen agrees, squeezing Karen again. “But we’ll get through it. We always have. If all else fails, we fake our deaths, take Denny and run.”

That makes Karen chuckle. “I don’t know if being wanted criminals would help our case, but I’d become a fugitive with you.” She nudges Hen and when Hen looks into her eyes, she’s smiling again, a hopeful sparkle in there.

Hen smiles back, overtaken with how much she loves the woman she has in her arms.

After a moment, Karen breaks the moment, clearing her throat and asking: “But this is a thing to worry about in the morning. What did you want to tell me about Buck that made you appreciate my mother of all people. I know you’ve had your differences.”

“Yeah, but listen to this. Buck’s in-laws – I told you about how horrible they are, right? – they’re staying for the whole week. Not just the weekend,” Hen gossips. “And it’s so bad. I didn’t realize how bad it could get.”

Invested, Karen asks: “What happened?”

“Apparently they are pushing Eddie to divorce Buck, because they’re homophobic and they made a bunch of comments that got under Eddie’s skin, so he slept on the couch. The couch,” Hen says. “I can’t imagine what kind of relationship you have to have with your parents that they can get to you that badly. I can’t really come up with anything that would get me to that point.”

“Oh, that is bad. What did Buck say about all of that?”

“He seems to be staying positive about it. Probably helps that Eddie slept in the bed again after the divorce conversation with his parents. And he says Chris likes that his grandparents are in town. I would grit my teeth through a lot too if it made Denny happy…” Hen says, trailing off at then end when she mentions Denny.

Karen sighs, eyes falling back on the letter. “Me too.”

Hen recognizes the look she gets on her face the longer she looks at that letter. “Alright.” Hen pats her leg. “I’m gonna warm up my left overs and then we’re devising a game plan while I eat. You’re not going to be able to sleep otherwise.”

“I’m sorry,” Karen says, sending her a guilty look.

“Nothing to be sorry about.” Hen pecks her on the lips. “Want me to get your laptop while I’m up so you can make a dedicated folder?”

“Yes, please.”

They stay up later than they should have and Hen sleeps badly with all the thoughts running through her head. She ends up coming into work early, just to get away from the way her mind is spinning. But she forgot that there was the possibility that no one would really be there, so she finds herself sitting morosely at the table alone.

She gets pulled from her thoughts by an equally exhausted looking Buck, who pours her a coffee, before he sits down too. She smiles gratefully at him. “Thanks.”

“So what kept you up tonight?” he asks after she has taken a few sips.

“Eva,” Hen sighs after a moment. “She’s suing me and Karen for custody of Denny. Is claiming we forced her to hand him over, as if she wasn’t itching to sign over custody from the moment she’d given birth.”

“Wow, that’s a lot.” Buck takes a seat next to her. “Does she have any basis for her case? How did you get custody of Denny?”

“I mean, she was able to file,” Hen says, slightly doubtful. “She just got out of prison, but she seems to be picking her life up. At the time she said she didn’t know who the father was, signed over full custody to me, so I could take care of him with Karen. She adopted him too. He’s ours, has been since birth. But who knows. It’s not as if court systems are in the favor of people like me and Karen.”

“Hey, don’t go there. Signing over custody – and straight away too – that means something. It’s hard for parents to get that back when they give it up. You and Karen are his parents, Denny knows that as well as you do. Any person who meets you will know that too,” Buck tells her with conviction.

“I hope so,” Hen sighs. “Is that something you think about? Chris’s mom coming back?” She can guess why he knows why signing over custody means something.

“It’s different,” Buck answers. “She raised Chris for four years mostly by herself, since Eddie was off in the service. He remembers her. He cried his whole fifth birthday because she didn’t come home to celebrate with us. Asked about her when he had to get surgery. If she’d want to have a place in his life again, I’d be cautious before letting her, but if Eddie was okay with it, I’d let her come back.”

“I can’t image leaving Denny behind when he was four. Not now either,” Hen says.

“And you’re not going to have to,” Buck assures her. “And Shannon had her reasons. I’ll never forgive her for leaving Chris the ways she did, I mean, he was four and she didn’t even say goodbye. He woke up and mommy was gone. Forever. But she’d been raising him all by herself for the most part, no family nearby, surrounded by a town who outwardly hated her. When Eddie was back and ready to take care of him, she left. Went to take care of her mom. Cancer. I get why she would.”

Even though he can never understand. He withstood those years of Helena’s hatred and Ramon’s disdain, a town full of rumors that didn’t want him there either. And those were still a few of his best years, but not everyone is the same, he guesses.

“Wow, that’s something,” Hen whistles. “I suppose that is a lot for one person. Still, I couldn’t do it, I love Denny too much.”

“And the court knows that. Eva doesn’t stand a chance. She no longer has a claim on him. And if she does genuinely want a role in his life again, it’ll be years before she’s proven herself, and even then, he will not just be taken from you two,” Buck says.

Hen she smiles and says: “Thank you, Buck. I needed to hear that.”

“It’s okay, having people in your corner makes it all easier to deal with. The people at this firehouse are in your corner,” Buck says honestly.

“You’re a sweet kid. I’m glad to have you at this house,” Hen tells him a rush of affection coming over her.

“Thanks,” he beams at her.

“So, how is the week with the in-laws going? You didn’t exactly look very happy yourself either,” Hen changes topics.

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Buck groans. “I actually kicked them out of the house yesterday. Drove them to Abuela’s, so Ramon could explain to his mom how he overstayed his welcome.”

“Holy shit,” Hen exclaims. “What did they do?”

At the reminder, Buck puffs up with offense again. “Tried to convince us to give them custody, because our work hours are too inconsistent and we can’t provide a stable home for him. And then! Then she had the nerve to tell Eddie to, and I quote, ‘not drag Chris down with you,’ the fucking nerve of that. Eddie has devoted his life to Chris’s well being. He’s lifting him up. Who says that to their own kid?”

“What the hell,” Hen swears. Her opinion of these in-laws was already spectacularly low, but every time she hears of them, she gets disappointed more.

“I know,” Buck exclaims. “I couldn’t let them get away with that. Luckily Eddie wasn’t upset with me kicking them out while he was off putting Chris back in bed again – the yelling woke him up – and we’re going to be rid of them tomorrow. They’re doing breakfast with us so they can say goodbye to Chris, before we’re dropping them off at the airport.”

“You’re letting them back into your house after they said that?” Hen asks disbelievingly.

“If it were up to me, no, but Eddie wants them there. And I respect that. It’s for Chris’s sake. Goodbyes are important to him,” Buck says and Hen remembers what he just told her about Shannon. “And Eddie will always forgive them. They never deserve it, but he always does. I try to carry the grudge for both of us, because he can’t.”

“That’s very mature and kind of you, Buck. Eddie’s lucky to have you in his corner,” Hen says.

“I’m just happy that he lets me have his back,” Buck smiles back.

It melts Hen’s heart. It’s a sweet sentiment and she feels very privileged that Buck lets her peak into this part of his life. However, she doesn’t know how to verbalize that and the day is starting too. So, she just shoulder bumps him fondly, before draining her coffee and going to greet Chimney, who is just coming up the stairs.

The rest of their shift rolls by smoothly with some medical calls and a small fender bender. It’s a medium shift, not too quiet – though Hen would never use that word – nor too busy. A perfectly good shift all in all. Both her and Buck can use it after the night they’ve had.

At breakfast the Friday morning, Hen is the only one, who isn’t confused Buck is half standing as he shoves the final bites of breakfast in his mouth when he usually enjoys family meals the most, often hanging around for a bit after too.

Chimney even asks: “What? You got a breakfast date or something?”

“If you want to call it that,” Buck snorts, making Hen bite her lip in amusement as the other make their own assumptions about what he means, before she calls out a goodbye at his back, while he makes his way downstairs, then out of the firehouse.

Next shift, Buck comes in and seems lighter. It’s not as if his in-laws have disappeared, but it’s clear the direct stress is gone. However, they all notice he has gotten busier. He often flies out of the firehouse and has claimed a few personal emergencies in the middle of the day; often school pick up time, Hen notices.

After one of such personal emergencies, Hen happens to catch him as he’s coming in while she’s restocking the ambulance. She asks: “Hey, everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, all good,” he assures her, a little out of breath.

“You sure? That’s the third emergency. Is it something serious? You know you can talk to us right? We have each other’s backs here, remember?”

At that, he smiles brightly, perking up. “I know. Just pick up. I feel a little bad, but Eddie started the fire academy and tía Pepa works and Abuela doesn’t drive, so it’s a bit chaotic right now trying to get care for Chris organized.”

“Eddie’s becoming a fire fighter?” Hen asks, pleasantly surprised.

“Yeah, my stories won him over,” Buck grins. “And he has a lot of transferable skills, army medic and all that.”

“Wish him luck from me,” Hen says. “And if you ever need someone to watch Chris, he’s more than welcome in our home.”

“Thank you so much,” Buck says gratefully. “Need some help stocking that?”

“And hand you a clipboard? No thanks,” Hen jokes. “I’m pretty sure Bobby started on dinner, go bother him.”

“Aye, aye, ma’am,” Buck salutes, before walking off and Hen watches him go with a fond smile.

A few weeks later and their probie Buck, is a probie no more. It’s oddly melancholic to be at his shield ceremony, as if he’s their kid, who is suddenly all grown up. Maybe it’s because they’ve seen him grow so much in his time here, maybe it’s because he’s good at getting into your heart and making himself at home there.

The only people that come to his ceremony are the tía and Abuela he mentioned. Both of them are Eddie’s family, though they don’t say they are. There is no one other family for Buck, no Eddie, no Chris, no parents. No one.

It reminds Hen partly of her own wedding, partly of her first office party all the way back when she first started out, which is a weird mix.

She knows his parents are homophobic and he doesn’t even talk to them, but it must still hurt anyway that they aren’t here to celebrate this big thing with him. That there are those empty chairs – however metaphoric in this case – where they’re supposed to be there, but aren’t

And she knows how painful it must be, to not be able to celebrate this with your child and your husband. The people you share your life with, but aren’t ready to share with the world.

Hen wants to say something, give him some sort of encouragement or understanding. Solidarity perhaps, or comfort. However, he’s continuously surrounded by others and she doesn’t get the words in.

That evening, she burrows her face into Karen’s stomach and hugs her tightly, just breathing in her scent and being grateful for what she has. For the fact that she has always been there. That she was able to work through all the things that made it feel impossible to share.

She would never push someone to out themselves if they weren’t comfortable and she doesn’t know the entirety of Buck’s situation. Still, in that moment, she sends a hope out into the universe, that one day, Buck can have that too.

A few shifts later, Hen’s perception of Buck, is turned inside out.

Buck seems a little nervous when he comes in, glancing around and seeming surprised when he spots them when they start talking to him. The conversation turns to body fat when they bring up that stupid calendar, something Buck has been getting really into and he seems like himself when he rambles, until that conversation devolves into something else.

Then Chimney cuts it all off, getting distracted by something as he comments: “Okay that, is a beautiful man.”

Hen follows his gaze, curious to see what sort of man could have evoked that comment, only to do a double take when she actually sees him. The man is, objectively, certainly beautiful, fitting the beauty standard to a T. However, that is not what makes her double take; what makes her double take, is that she is pretty sure she’s seen this man before, namely in the truck that came to pick Buck up after the plane crash.

Immediately, her eyes shoot to Buck, who is also looking back to see who Chimney pointed out. But his gaze doing a complicated something that makes him look longing, scared and pissed off? It settles on pissed off, as he says: “Who the hell is that?”

Now Hen is only more confused, but she tells herself that maybe she saw wrong. It was dark after all and she only saw Eddie briefly in the dim light of the car. No matter how sure she was. Maybe Buck is pissed off, because he saw the similarity too, but it’s not his husband?

All that gets thrown out the window, when Bobby says: “That’s Eddie Diaz, new recruit. Graduated top of his class just this week. Guys over at station 6 were dying to have him, but I convinced him to join us.”

He continues talking about Eddie’s accomplishments, but Hen tunes him out in favor of trying to catch Buck’s eyes. When she does, she sends him a ‘wtf’- look, trying to ask with her eyes, if she is seeing what she thinks she is seeing and why the hell Buck is acting this way towards his husband, and why he’s not saying anything.

Buck catches her eye and suddenly remembers that he forgot one, very crucial detail when he and Eddie came up with their scheme.

Fuck, this complicates things. He needs Hen to not blow this for them and he sends her a pleading look that hopefully conveys to her that she should play along. If she blows this scheme and reveals to Eddie that Buck is madly in love with him, he’ll have to change his name and move to a different continent again.

His urge to create as much distance between him and Eddie only grows and before he knows what he’s doing, he hears himself saying: “What do we need him for?”

Internally he cringes at both himself and the raised brow Hen is giving him. However, she doesn’t say anything about what she knows as the others laughs and keeps quiet when they all go to greet Eddie, Buck following after them all with apprehension tight in his chest.

Hen is pretty sure she weirds Eddie out slightly with how closely she’s studying him, even if her hello is totally normal.

She certainly catches the confused look he gives Buck when he appears behind him, having set himself on being strangely defensive. Is everything going okay at home? He did mention thinking he’d get divorced, so maybe something happened on that front? Or he just doesn’t want to work with Eddie? Which Hen doesn’t get. He seems like the guy that would love to work with his spouse. She would.

“Eddie, this is Buck,” Bobby says. “Buck this is Eddie. He’ll be your partner in the field from now on, I expect you to keep him in the loop.”

Hen doesn’t know what she’s expecting, maybe a crack in the facade, an ‘ahh, I’m just joking’ and an explanation. Or at least some sort of acknowledgment. However, instead Buck just nods curtly and says: “Yes, Cap.”

Her eyes swing to Eddie, curious to see what he will do. But it seems that he is either just going along with whatever Buck is doing or there actually is some tension between them, because he is way more polite with Buck as he greets him. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Buck says, a word he has never said before.

This whole thing is weird and everyone is picking up on it, not just Hen. Sure, they all remember the cocky Buck from the early days, who could balk at authority from time to time and be a bit of a dick sometimes. This, though, is very unlike him. He loves talking to people and meeting them. He’s a godsend on most cases where they need to keep people calm or do crowd control.

Before, they can figure out what’s happening, the alarm goes and they have to abandon this mystery in favor of getting into their gear.

On the rig there, it’s clear Chimney has interpreted the tension as Buck being territorial and starting a pissing contest with the new guy. Hen doesn’t think that’s it. She is pretty sure now she hadn’t been making it up when she recognized Eddie and they’re in the rig with Buck’s husband. However, she’s not going to say anything until she knows more and instead chooses to help Chimney tease Buck while observing the reactions to try and gather more information.

When they get to the call, her focus is primarily on the patient, though she observes Eddie to be competent and easy to work with. Buck wasn’t just bragging, which is good. Hen likes working with competent people.

Though she’s not sure if she can hang out with Eddie on the clock in the long term without saying anything about the weird vibe between him and Buck and the knowledge she has.

At some point, Buck goes to puncture Hector’s chest cavity and then Eddie takes over. Watching it, Hen isn’t sure if they’re very well in tune with each other to the point they don’t mind the way they’re communicating – well, barely communicating – or if there is tension and they’re being curt. Buck might be a horrible liar, but he might just be a great actor.

They give Eddie their complements on a job well done and Hen looks back to see Buck doing the same, though he sounds a little condescending. However, when she glances at his face, there is a glint of humor in his eyes and the way Eddie gives him a deadpan look in return can only be described as fond. Definitely married and playing at something, she decides.

It takes everything in her to not explode and blurt something out on the way back. And she is so grateful to Chimney, who leads Eddie away under his arms to show him the magic of Bobby’s cooking, so she can yank Buck into a supply closet.

“I know that is your husband right there, don’t even try to lie to me. Eddie Diaz, Eddie Diaz. The names match. And I waited to see if you got picked up that one time, and he looks exactly like that guy that came for you,” Hen says, before Buck can even recover from the disorientation.

“Wait, you waited for Eddie to come pick me up?” is all Buck says in his confusion.

“Not the point, Buckley,” Hen hisses. “Why are you pretending you don’t know your own husband? In fact, why are you acting like you don’t even like the man? Love him, actually.”

“Okay, I can explain that.”

“Please do!”

“So-” Buck starts, then immediately stops. “You see-” he pauses again. “It seemed like a good idea when we came up with it.”

“You’re doing this on purpose?” Hen says, still confused. Though she supposes that’s good. It would be kind of weird if Buck had decided on the fly not to know Eddie and Eddie just went along with it without any questions.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s on purpose,” Buck chuckles awkwardly. “Eddie got the offer and we know we work well together and this house is a good one – I mean, you hear the horror stories about the hazing – but then we kind of realized, they would retract the offer if we tried to do the paperwork, since Eddie is a probie, not a full firefighter. Besides, I never told anyone about Eddie either – except for you, which I kind of forgot, until today – so it would invite a lot of questions. And it would get confusing and weird, since we are married, but we’re not really together-”

“What?”

“What what?” Buck repeats, seeming taken aback by her reaction, meanwhile Hen is still internally blue-screening and reeling.

“What do you mean you’re not really together? Are you two getting divorced?” Hen exclaims

“I mean, at some point, yeah, we’re getting divorced,” Buck says, frowning. “Me and Eddie aren’t dating, never have. He’s straight.”

“Straight?”

“Yeah, straight. We got married for convenience,” Buck confirms, in a tone that clearly conveys he doesn’t know why she keeps freaking out. “Did you not know that?”

“How was I supposed to know that!” Hen yells, before lowering her volume so no one comes to check up on them in the supply closet. “You just told me you were in love with your husband and rambled about him and your son, being all mushy. What about that screams, we’re friends and he’s straight?”

“Ah, uhm- well…” Buck turns a bright red and looks anywhere but her face as he admits: “I am kind of very much in love with him, he just doesn’t know that. He- he probably- maybe- kind of also thinks I’m straight?”

“Oh my god.” Hen is actually speechless for a moment trying to piece all she knows back together into this new picture, Buck just painted.

Instead of a married bi guy with a family, he loves, but wasn’t ready to be out at work. He is a married bi guy with a family that he loves, but his husband is straight and they got married as friends with the plans to divorce – now him saying they got married so he could adopt Chris is put in a different light too – but he is in love with him, but the guy doesn’t know.

“Please don’t tell him,” Buck says anxiously.

“Of course I’m not going to tell him,” Hen hisses. “I’m processing.”

“Okay,” Buck replies faintly.

Hen takes a moment, before saying: “Okay, so tell me if I got this right. You married Eddie, as friends, to adopt Chris and with the plan to get divorced?”

“Yes.”

“But you aren’t divorced yet.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And now you’re working together here and you did not tell anyone at HR or Bobby or anyone, that you two are married.”

Buck nods.

“Because you aren’t together like that anyway?”

Buck nods again.

“But you are in love with Eddie, he just doesn’t know and he’s straight.”

“Yup,” Buck squeaks.

“And you’re not going to tell him?”

“No!” Buck exclaims loudly, before quieter repeating: “No, no. He can’t know. It’ll make it all weird and he’ll realize I’ve been kind of making myself necessary, so he doesn’t divorce me, because I like being married to him, even if it’s not like that. And that is a little weird. And then he’ll know and he’ll leave me forever and I’ll never get to see Chris again.”

“Okay, okay, breathe, Buck, breathe,” Hen guides him when he starts spiraling. He follows her steady breaths until he calmed down a little and she soothes: “He’s not just going to leave you. I won’t tell him you’re in love with him.”

“Thank you,” Buck manages to get out.

They stand in the quiet supply closet for a moment, the feint cleaning supply smell permeating the air along with the slightly dampened noise from outside. Buck calming down, Hen sorting her thoughts.

After a few beats, Hen says: “So what is your plan with hating Eddie?”

“I panicked,” Buck grimaces. “I just saw him and Chimney was saying he is beautiful – and he is – but saying that felt like me proclaiming I’m in love with him, so I couldn’t, so I just kind of did the opposite of that and now I’m stuck.”

“God, you’re hopeless,” Hen mutters.

“You have to help me.”

“I’m not going to help you!”

“Why not? You’d be so good at it.”

“Buck, I’m not going to help you lie to Bobby, HR and basically everyone! You two can get in serious trouble for that.”

“So you’re gonna tell Bobby?” Buck asks, looking like a kicked puppy.

Hen inhales a sharp, annoyed breath, because fuck, this kid gets to her. Then she sighs: “No. I’m not going to tell Bobby.”

Immediately Buck perks up and hugs her. “Thank you so much.”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t cheer yet. I’m not getting involved in this little act you and Eddie have going on either,” she says, jabbing her finger at him.

“Understood, ma’am,” Buck agrees without hesitation.

“Good. Just so we’re clear,” Hen nods.

“Good.” Buck nods back. He’s quiet for a moment, then he asks: “So then what are you going to do?”

“I honestly don’t know,” Hen tells him. “I need a moment to think. Just go.”

“Go?”

“Yes, go. Go out there and put on your little performance and give me a moment to think,” Hen says, waving him towards the door she yanked him through moments earlier.

“No, don’t make me go,” Buck pleads. “Then I have to figure out how to act around Eddie again.”

“You live with him, now shoo,” Hen retorts without remorse, before unceremoniously shoving him back out the supply closet and slamming the door close behind him.

Buck outside goes to do whatever he decides to do – which is working out and accidentally picking a fight with Eddie, but Hen doesn’t know that – so Hen can pull out her phone. She can’t deal with this bullshit by herself.

Before Karen can even say anything as a greeting, she blurts out: “They’re not together.”

To her credit doesn’t skip a beat. “What?”

“Eddie and Buck, they’re not together,” Hen says.

“But they’re married?”

“Yeah, platonically, as friends, because Eddie is straight,” Hen says her voice saying ‘can you believe this shit?’ “Which I found out today, because Eddie showed up to our work. He’s our new probie. And he and Buck are pretending they don’t know each other.”

“What?”

“That’s what I said!” Hen exclaims.

“What are you going to do now?” Karen also asks.

“I don’t know,” Hen answers again.

“Okay, just tell me everything, we’ll figure this out,” Karen says, which is exactly why Hen loves her so much. She’s a problem solver, a gossip, and always on Hen’s side.

Hen relays all the new information she’s gained in the last hour and combines it with what they already know. She ends with: “And I know I should tell Bobby, but you didn’t see Buck’s face. He isn’t even out to Eddie and who knows what an investigation will bring. I don’t want to do that to someone. What if he looses his kid? I don’t want to responsible for that.”

“Yeah, I totally get that,” Karen says and she can just picture her nodding intently. She pauses for a moment, then says: “We don’t have enough data.”

“We don’t?”

“No.” Karen says, in her ‘I’m talking science’-voice that Hen adores. “We know Buck’s feelings and perception of the situation, as well as his personality, but we know nothing of Eddie’s side. What if he’s under the same misunderstanding as you were?”

“You think he might think that he’s married to Buck for real and in love with him too?” Hen asks, kind of skeptical, but willing to buy it because Karen is selling it.

“I mean, I’m not saying that, but it could be true,” Karen says. “But it’s probably closer to maybe having the same misunderstanding Buck has. I mean, if you were married to your straight bestie and you were in love with them, you wouldn’t risk them finding out by coming out, right? Buck hasn’t. Who’s to say, Eddie isn’t doing the same? Did he seem gay to you?”

Hen shrugs. “I don’t know. You have the better gaydar, between the two of us.”

Karen gasps excitedly. “You should invite him over. So, I can investigate!”

“How do you expect me to subtly do that?” Hen exclaims.

Before Karen can explain what she thinks, the alarm starts ringing and Hen has to hang up so she can answer. Promising that she’ll update Karen when she gets home and telling her she loves her, before she does.

To ensure she is able to properly report back to her wife that evening, she observes Eddie closely for the rest of her shift.

This sadly does not result in much, except a few weird looks from Eddie, since he and Buck are mostly avoiding each other and Bobby puts them on different jobs on the few calls they do take, clearly trying to figure out how he’s going to deal with this odd tension between the two. He likely can’t place a finger on it like he usually does, since it’s staged.

She has to go home, before anything changes, which is a bummer, so she is anxiously waiting to see how they’ll interact the next shift they’re on. Chim feels much the same, though for that is because he apparently walked in on the two of them fighting. Hen hates that she missed that.

They’ve been standing in the loft, looking down over the rest of the firehouse since Buck came in that morning. Now, Eddie is coming in too and they’re finally going to see for themselves.

Buck spots him easily, turning around at the sound of his footsteps as if he knows them by heart, already smiling, before he can even see Eddie. He calls out: “Hey, Eddie, did you know that grenade launcher that guy shot himself with yesterday started in production in 1969 and has been in use since the 70s?”

“Oh really?” Eddie replies, almost sounding as if he is hearing new information, but Hen is paying such close attention, she thinks it sounds amused. Though she might be making that up.

No, she didn’t make it up. However, she should have definitely added fond to that, because Eddie’s face is definitely very fond along with amused. They start making their way up the stairs together, shoulders bumping into one another on every step as Buck rambles about all the information he found as they walk to the loft.

Chimney gives Hen a confused look, as if to ask ‘can you believe that got from how they were acting last shift to this?’ Hen decides to just give a confused look back, but hers is more ‘I have no clue what’s going on between those two anymore.’

Later on a call, they dive into a pool together to pull an idiotic kid with a microwave cemented on his head out. They’re perfectly in sync and there is no leftover anything from last shift. They’ve settled into a well oiled machine and it’s clear Bobby is very pleased with himself.

It takes Hen a week of observation before she cracks.

A week of watching Buck and Eddie share little glances, a week of watching Buck stare at Eddie when he thinks no one notices, a week of watching professional Eddie cracking up and lighting up whenever Buck makes a joke, a week of Eddie referencing fun facts Buck told him as if he has them all memorized, a week of Buck bashfully ducking his head whenever he talks with Eddie. It’s too much, she can’t take it anymore.

Coming up to the locker room, she hears Eddie say: “Hey, can you pick up Chris today? I know it’s my turn, but I can’t find my keys anywhere.”

“Ohoho, what is this, Mr. Neat, lost his stuff?” Buck replies, sounding a little too gleeful.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, like you wouldn’t lose everything if you didn’t have me to remind you that you probably left your phone on the toilet and your wallet in your pocket. I found one of our coffee mugs in your closet when I put away the laundry last time. The closet, Buck,” Eddie rolls his eyes.

“I plead the fifth.” Buck grins

“Sure. Fine,” Eddie doesn’t mind or care much for the bickering, accepting Buck’s reply and returning back to his previous question. “So, you good too pick up Chris?”

Buck doesn’t even seem fazed, grin only broadening at the bitchy response. “Yeah, ‘course I can pick up Chris. No problem.”

“Cool, see you at home when I find my goddamn keys,” Eddie curses.

“Alright. Text me if you can’t and need me to come pick you up,” Buck says.

“I’ll find them,” Eddie pouts stubbornly, making Buck laugh.

He leaves the locker room nearly running into Hen, but avoiding her with a little noise, before wishing her a good afternoon. Eddie whips his head around, eyeing her suspiciously, but since Buck doesn’t react to her presence, he likely assumes she just walked in and didn’t overhear.

Wrong.

Hen waits until Buck is in his car, before pulling Eddie’s keys out of her pocket and jingling them. When Eddie looks back, she holds them up and asks: “Looking for these?”

“Yeah, where did you find them?”

She took them out of his locker, a kid’s birthday is an easy choice and because of Buck, she knows exactly when Chris’s birthday is. “Unimportant,” is what she says. “I know.”

“What?”

“I know,” she repeats, this time more intently, eyes flicking over to Buck’s sweater that ended up in Eddie’s locker at some point and is now lying on the bench, because Eddie put it there when emptying out his locker in the hope of finding his keys.

Eddie’s eyes grow wide and he gets a little pale. Hen feels a little bad when he swallows thickly and nervously asks: “What are you going to do now?”

“Get to the bottom of it,” Hen answers. “Get in my car. We’re going to have a drink together and you’ll get these,” she jingles the keys, “back when you have satisfied my curiosity.”

He hesitates – which is pretty valid, since Hen is basically kidnapping him – then cautiously asks: “Can I text Buck you’re doing that?”

“Sure,” Hen says easily. He doesn’t know where she lives, much like she doesn’t know where he lives. It’s not like telling him will change anything.

Eddie side eyes her as he texts, probably expecting her to retract the allowance, but Hen waits patiently until he’s done then ushers him into her car. To his credit, Eddie doesn’t ask too many questions and just lets her. She makes a mental note to tell him not to do that when this is over.

They spend the first few minutes of the drive in awkward silence, until Eddie finally breaks, asking: “So how did you find out anyway?”

“Buck told me,” Hen answers honestly.

“What?” Eddie exclaims with bulging eyes.

“To be fair to Buck, he forgot he did until I asked him what the fuck he was doing,” Hen says.

“Fucking scatterbrain,” Eddie mutters, though it’s sounds too fond to truly be an insult. He shakes his head to himself, then turns back to Hen and asks: “But if you already know, then why are you abducting me for an interrogation?”

“Because I only know Buck’s side of the story, duh. Didn’t you ever watch a detective show?” Hen tells him. “And Karen wants to meet you.”

“Your wife wants to meet me?” a confused Eddie asks.

“Yeah, she’s curious,” Hen replies, electing not to tell him, it is also because Karen has the better gaydar and they’re trying to figure out if he’s as straight as he claims he is. That’s not a thing to truly push on a person. They need to get there themselves. Though… they might, well… nudge.

“So you’re kidnapping me because your wife is curious about me and you find nothing weird about that?” Eddie asks slightly judgmental.

“Oh, I find it plenty odd, but I mostly find it weird you went along with it,” Hen says bluntly.

“Did I not have to?” Eddie frowns.

“No, it’s not like I would have forced you if you didn’t want to come,” Hen says, getting a little concerned. “Did you not realize that?”

Eddie shrugs, looking a little sheepish as he does. He shrugs: “You sounded pretty authoritative. I’ve always kind of followed orders.”

“Maybe stop doing that?” Hen tells him worriedly.

“Uh, I will,” Eddie promises.

“Good.”

They spend the rest of the drive in silence until they get to the Wilson house. She told Karen she was planning on doing this, so she knows she’ll be waiting inside. Denny is off at a sleep over, they have a biweekly rotation with some of the other parents, which made today a great day for this.

Indeed, Karen is waiting on their front porch, excitedly waving when Hen pulls up into the driveway. Next to her, Eddie takes one look at Karen, then looks back at Hen, apprehension written all over his face. Hen snorts: “She doesn’t bite.”

“I know that,” Eddie says bitchily, defiantly throwing his door open, though his gait slows slightly after two steps.

Karen either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care, coming to meet Eddie with a big smile. She shakes his hand and says: “I’m Karen, it’s so nice to meet you.”

“Uh, Eddie, nice to meet you too,” Eddie replies, shaking her hand on autopilot.

He follows her inside on autopilot too, letting her hit him with a barrage of words. “I can make coffee, but it’s already afternoon, so I don’t know if you still drink coffee. Or tea. We also have soda. But maybe this is more of an alcohol conversation for you?”

“Definitely that last one.” Eddie clears his throat. “You have beer?”

“Yeah, but I’m more partial to wine. Are you not a wine drinker?” Karen asks.

“Uhm, I don’t know?”

“Would you be open to trying?” Karen inquires curiously. To Hen, this is her scientist face, but she doesn’t know what data she could be gathering. However, she lets her happily with a smitten look on her own face.

“I suppose,” Eddie says, which is how he finds himself awkwardly sitting next to Karen on the couch with a glass of wine in his hands moments later.

“Take a sip, tell me what you think,” Karen encourages him with a smile. “It is supposed to have a bit of a woody taste, but Hen never tastes it. I’m starting to think I’m crazy.”

Still very much confused about how he ended up here, Eddie does as told and takes a sip, sending Hen a ‘wtf’-look that she responds to with a shrug.

It’s kind of funny how Eddie then turns his focus on the wine, clearly trying to taste what Karen told him about the wine. After a moment, he cautiously says: “I think I can taste it? But it’s a little more saw dust in a shed than, like, a barrel or something.”

“Hm,” Karen hums taking another sip of her own and tasting it closely. Her eyes widen and she exclaims: “You’re good, Diaz. Totally saw dust-y. Wait.” She gets up and starts rummaging around somewhere else in the house.

On the couch, Eddie sips more of his wine, quietly asking Hen: “Is she always like that?”

“If she likes you,” Hen smiles.

“Oh, okay,” Eddie nods. Taking another sip and finishing the saw dust wine.

Karen comes back with another bottle and glass, pouring Eddie a second glass. “Try this one, tell me what you think.”

Eddie puts down the now empty glass one, before grabbing the second one and tasting it with as much intent as he did the first time around. Two sips later, he says: “It’s smokey? I think.”

“Yes, I know right!” Karen says happily. “It’s aged in old tobacco barrels.”

Suddenly self conscious, Eddie asks: “Aren’t these expensive?”

“They’re not very high up there, but not cheap frat boy liquor,” Karen shrugs. “But it’s a hobby and Hen is bad at it.”

“Hey!” Hen interjects for the first time.

“Come on, babe, you know it’s true,” Karen tells her gently.

“I try,” Hen pouts.

“I know.” Karen leans over and pats her arm. Then she turns back to Eddie and asks: “What else do you taste?”

A few glasses and a conversation about wine later, Eddie is looking a lot more relaxed and the two of them have decided that the second wine is the better one. Which means, they now all have a glass of the second one.

When there’s a lull in conversation, Karen pounces. She asks: “So, how did the whole being married as friends thing even happen?”

“Because Buck is too nice for his own good,” Eddie groans, falling back against the couch cushions.

Karen raises a brow and gives Hen a significant look, before focusing back on Eddie: “Too nice? What does that even mean?”

Eddie gestures vaguely and says: “You know, too nice. He should have never been doing this with me, but he’s too nice and now he’s still here, years later. Like,” Eddie blinks a few times and takes a sip from his wine as he tries to do the math, “like, three years later.”

“You’ve been married for three years?” Karen prompts, trying to keep Eddie talking.

“No, two,” Eddie corrects. “But Shannon left three years ago. She was sleeping with Buck, but she didn’t say she was going, she just left. And Buck should have left too. But he didn’t. He stayed. And he helped, because he’s too nice.”

That is new information. Hen never knew Buck was seeing Shannon. That makes this a whole new layer of complicated. She gets why they wanted to avoid the questions.

“Okay, so he’s too nice,” Karen nods, deciding to focus on the more important bit. “Why did you two get married when you were doing the co-parenting together before that already.”

“Cause Chris had to get surgery,” Eddie says. Explaining: “He’s our son, he has CP,” just in case they didn’t know that already. “Surgery is expensive.”

“That’s why you re-enlisted,” Hen puts together, remembering Buck telling him about the injury that brought him home.

Eddie nods enthusiastically. He clearly isn’t used to wine and he’s already a little tipsy, nearly spilling his drink.

“Why does that require a marriage?” Karen wonders out loud.

“Buck needed to adopt Chris, so my mom wouldn’t take him,” Eddie says, before whispering: “She doesn’t like my parenting.” Sadly, he explains: “She probably wouldn’t have given him back. I couldn’t lose Chris like that. So I asked Buck, because he’s selfless and I’m selfish. And the fastest way to adopt someone is through stepparent adoption. So we got married.”

Both their hearts break at the confession and Karen pulls Eddie into her side, saving his glass when he flops over sideways.

She rubs her hand over his arm and says: “It’s not selfish to want to keep your son, Eddie. Your mom sounds like a bitch for thinking that. From what I hear from Hen, you’re a great father. You and Buck both.”

“That’s what Buck says too,” Eddie smiles sappily. Hen gets another significant look from Karen. “He is a great dad too. Chris loves him.”

“And that’s all that matter,” Karen says, squeezing Eddie again, before letting him untangle himself from her, while she refills his glass.

“I guess,” Eddie agrees thoughtfully.

Getting the conversation back on track, Hen asks: “So, you two got married so he could adopt Chris, then you went on tour and got injured.”

“Yeah, we were supposed to get divorced when I got back, you know, but Buck was too nice again and he became a firefighter so Chris would have insurance when I got discharged and so he could support us while I healed up,” Eddie says.

“So how did you two end up here in LA? Texas didn’t have enough fires?” Karen asks curiously.

“Buck’s great at his job,” Eddie says, seemingly not answering the question for a moment. “He got job offers all over. He wanted to take the one in Austin, so we would be closer to home, not uproot Chris and stuff. But… I wanted to go to LA. Get out of there. Buck just agreed and we got a house here.”

Hen is sure he was going to tell them again how that is because Buck is too nice, but Karen starts talking before he can. “Did you two buy a house? That’s quite the commitment.”

“Maybe, but you get tax benefits together and a higher mortgage with two possible incomes,” Eddie shrugs. “This way we’d have money in the house, so we’d have the money again when we sell. Maybe be able to put some to the side for a college fund for Chris.”

“Won’t that be difficult when you two divorce?” Karen asks and both see the way Eddie’s face sours at the thought.

“We’re not divorced yet,” he pouts. “And we have a prenup. I learned that lesson the first time around. It will be fine.”

“Why didn’t you divorce yet?” Hen asks, suddenly curious. She knows why Buck hasn’t, namely because he has a a huge fat crush on Eddie, but she wonders what Eddie’s rationale is for staying married to Buck and getting more involved with him by buying a house together for them and their kid.

Eddie’s face does something complicated and unreadable, before he shrugs: “We haven’t found anyone yet. We’re gonna get divorced if we get serious with someone. It’s not in the cards right now. Buck isn’t looking for anything serious, says he gets enough serious at work. He…” Eddie’s eyes get a hard glint in them, “He hooks up sometime.”

“And you?” Hen asks with a raised brow, clocking that shit as jealousy and curious that Eddie has only focused on why Buck might leave.

“Oh, I haven’t gotten around to it,” Eddie shrugs. “I want to get into a work rhythm first. And I am not really a going out to the club or a bar kind of person. I don’t really meet a lot of people.”

“Some girls have flirted on the calls we went on,” Hen points out.

“That’s unprofessional.” Eddie looks scandalized at the suggestion and says: “And it will just get complicated with Chris and everything. I’m fine where I am right now.”

Yeah, no, this man is not straight. Hen doesn’t know what label he might prefer, but she does know it includes being in love with Evan Buckley. God, this is a mess. Why did she get involved with it? Curiosity killed the cat and all that (a voice that sounds annoyingly like Buck sharing a fun fact adds ‘but satisfaction brought it back.’ He is right).

“Complicated with Chris and everything?” Karen repeats curiously, filling everyone’s glass again. She is starting to get a bit of a flush herself and Hen decides not to drink more, because someone needs to be somewhat sober at the end of this.

“Uh, yeah, he- he’s scared of people leaving, you know. I mean, I left twice to go fight and Shannon left forever,” Eddie says awkwardly. “If I start dating someone, I’ll have to introduce them to Chris at some point – and Buck of course – and then if it doesn’t work out… I don’t know, I don’t want to risk that right now.”

“And are you scared something like that will happen if Buck starts dating someone?” Hen feels comfortable pushing, because it’s not likely to happen with how down bad Buck is for Eddie.

Eddie’s face contorts at the mention of Buck dating someone, but a determined look comes over his face as he states: “Buck would never leave Chris. He loves him, he’s his father. It would break Chris’s heart and Buck is too good to do anything that would hurt Chris. Too nice.”

Hen smiles at the assertion, heart melting slightly at how confident Eddie is in Buck, how much faith he has in him.

Karen, however, is more keen than her, finally pressing on the one point he keeps bringing up again and again. Conversationally, she says: “You know, you keep saying Buck is too nice, but have you ever considered that he wants to be there and it’s not him being too nice for his own good, it’s just him doing what he wants to be doing?”

For a moment, Eddie looks as if a world of possibilities has opened up for him and he reached enlightenment. Then he shuts all those emotions on his face down and groans: “Don’t do that. I’d just won.”

“You just won?” Karen repeats, utterly confused and sharing a look with Hen to see if she knows what he’s talking about.

She doesn’t.

“Yeah, I won,” Eddie tells them, gesturing vaguely as he does. “You know, when you feel or want something you’re not supposed or are allowed to, and then you have to fight until you don’t anymore? I’d just won and now I’m feeling the things again.”

Oh.

Oh no.

No, no, no, no, no.

That’s just sad. That’s way too sad. Hen didn’t sign up for this. She signed up for an oblivious guy who was in love with his best friend, maybe a straight guy she’d reached early enough before he did something stupid and ruined the best friendship he had.

She did not sign up for a deeply repressed homosexual. Panicked, she looks over to Karen, hoping she knows how to take over.

Karen also looks kind of panicked for a moment, before pulling on her game face. She puts her glass down and gently takes Eddie’s hands in her own. Confused he looks at her, which was probably her plan, because she makes sure to keep eye contact as she says: “Nothing – and I mean nothing – you feel or want can be something that’s not allowed or you’re not supposed to. You’re allowed to want things, to feel the things you feel. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

Eddie’s jaw clenches and it is clear he’s stubbornly holding back tears as he says: “Yes, there is. I’m the man of the house. There are expectations.”

Fucking hell, Hen already got where Buck was coming from with his ‘fuck Eddie’s parents’-attitude, but she just gained a deeper understanding for it. That’s super fucked up.

Karen, thankfully, has more to say than ‘that’s fucked up’ and instead says: “And what kind of expectations are that?”

“The man of the house protects his family, provides for them. I’ve been doing that for forever,” Eddie answers as if that’s obvious. “I’m a Diaz man, it’s what we do.”

Hen did not expect to be digging into her coworkers childhood trauma when she kidnapped him that afternoon. It feels a bit too personal to go digging herself, so she gladly lets Karen lead this bit. She rightfully points out: “Chris is a Diaz man, do you have those expectations for him?”

“No, of course not,” Eddie frowns. “He’s just a kid. And he’s a great kid, who can be whatever he wants to be. It’s unfair to expect things from him.”

“Then why was it okay for them to expect things from you?” Karen prods gently. “Why do you not deserve what Chris has?”

Eddie falls silent, looking almost stricken. He tears his gaze away from Karen’s eyes to stare emptily at the floor. After a few beats of silence, he softly says: “I- I don’t know.”

“It was unfair of them, to ask that of you,” Karen says. “It was unfair and deep down, you know that too, because you’re not doing the same to Chris. You’re allowed to want things, to feel things. You don’t have to be the man of the house. And you don’t have to win from your feelings.”

“She’s right,” Hen decides to pipe up to drive the point home. “Trust me. You can have the things you want. It’s okay.” She vaguely nods to her surroundings, the house she has, the life, with her wife and her son surrounding her.

The gesture might be vague, but the message is received clearly. Eddie looks around and an understanding look comes over his features. They’ve gotten through to him.

Just when Hen is about to take a relieved breath that they made it through this, a tear leaks out of the corner of one of Eddie’s eyes. It’s followed by another and another, until there are tears streaming down Eddie’s face.

It takes a moment for the rest of him to catch up with the fact that he’s crying, but soon he’s taking shuddering breaths as he weeps, gasping for air as he fails to get enough between each sob.

Karen can’t take it anymore and puts her arm around his shoulders again, opening up her side as an invitation. Eddie doesn’t decline, burying his face into her shoulder as he continues to cry for what feels like forever.

When he can’t seem to get the crying under control no matter how hard he tries, he makes a frustrated noise. Untangling himself from Karen’s hug and furiously wiping at his eyes, before blindly grabbing one of the bottles and emptying it into his glass.

As he starts drinking, Hen cautiously asks: “Are you okay?”

“No, I’m not okay. I’m in love with my friend and I’m drinking saw dust wine,” Eddie says in a voice that’s nasally from the tears.

Apologetically, Karen offers: “I can open another bottle, give you something better to drink?”

“Please, don’t. I still have to face Buck today,” Eddie says, then thinks for a moment and amends: “On second thought, maybe do, because I don’t know how I’m going to face Buck today.”

Karen gets up and comes back with another bottle, saying: “This one is a little fruity.”

Eddie looks up with her, still crying, but also shocked out for it for a moment. Both Karen and Hen are confused until he says: “That’s not funny.”

Hen and Karen process that for a second, before they realize, then burst out into laughter. They feel slightly sorry towards Eddie, but he joins in too after a few moments until they’re all giggling on the couch.

Once they’ve finally caught their breath and calmed down again. Karen clears her throat and holds up the bottle, asking: “You want me to open it?”

“I don’t know.”

“Let me ask you this,” Hen says. “Do you want to talk about it more, or do you want me to text Buck to come pick you up?”

“Talk about it more,” Eddie replies a bit too fast. He explains: “I don’t think I can face him yet. What if I can’t keep my mouth shut when I see him?” He adds in a hushed voice: “I think I’m a little tipsy.”

“You’re definitely past tipsy,” Hen informs him with an amused look. “I’ll get everyone some water instead.”

“Nooo,” Eddie whines. “Then I’ll be sober enough to think about it.”

“You need to hydrate. Drink some water and we might open the bottle of wine,” Hen says, ignoring how Karen pouts at the conditions too.

“Fine,” Eddie sulks.

“Smart choice,” Hen laughs, before getting up.

When she comes back with the water, Karen has thankfully left the bottle unopened on the coffee table, though they have been drinking the already open wines.

Karen has sagged down on the couch. Eddie is beside her, leaning towards her as she leans back towards him. She asks: “So what do you even like about Buck?”

Eddie is red and Hen isn’t sure if it’s the wine or the crush. He ducks into himself and mutters: “He’s nice and funny and pretty, uh, handsome, pretty handsome. And he’s great with Chris. And it’s not hard to talk to him.”

Okay, the stuttering makes Hen decide it’s probably embarrassment, so she swoops in with the water, making sure they both start drinking, before plopping down on her chair again.

Karen has started Eddie up again and he’s now telling her all about how Buck always has his back and how he’s his partner in everything and how they’re best friends and it’s nice. So nice.

It’s a little adorable and Hen maybe films a little bit, so she’ll have something to play on the wedding… or well, the redo of the wedding, when it’s for real. Because that must happen at some point with the way they love each other.

They end up not opening bottle number three, which is a smart plan. Hen only drank one glass, maybe one and a half, so Eddie and Karen both basically drank a bottle a person. And Karen likes wine, it’s a hobby, so she has some sort of tolerance. Eddie? Not so much.

About an hour later and he’s still giggly, albeit a little soberer. He’s been waxing poetics about Buck, then slapping his hand over his mouth and saying he shouldn’t be saying those things, before Karen encourages him again and the cycle repeats.

When he starts up about Buck’s pretty blue eyes for the third time, Hen decides to change the topic. She has to work with Buck too and she doesn’t want to think about this every time she makes eye contact with her coworker. So she asks: “So, are you going to tell Buck about this revelation?”

Eddie’s smile drops immediately and he becomes pale as he violently shakes his head no. “No, no, never, he can never know,” he says without hesitation. “He’s already done so much and it’ll only make it weird and what if he hates me and wants to leave? Chris will be devastated.”

“What if he feels the same?” Hen suggests, though a little carefully.

“Pff, as if. He’s straight,” Eddie snorts in a manner that says ‘don’t be ridiculous.’

And look, a part of Hen wants to shake him and tell him that Buck is very much in love with him too and that’s not going to happen. She does, truly, because this stupidity makes her want to run her head into a wall multiple times.

However, she doesn’t know Eddie, only met him a week ago. And Eddie clearly only acknowledged two hours ago that he’s not straight and in love with his best friend. On top of that, the way he keeps saying he shouldn’t be saying that, means he has a way to go before he’s accepting it.

Hen can’t know how Eddie will react to Buck loving him too. Maybe he’ll be okay, maybe this revelation will get stuffed down again – ‘fought down’ as Eddie said – and that will be bad, very bad for Buck. She simply doesn’t feel comfortable outing anyone, but especially in a situation as precarious as this.

Because it is precarious.

While she doesn’t think it will happen, the possibility of this exploding is still very much open. And if that happens, they’ll have a child together, a house together, a job together and a marriage. That’s not something that can be easily split, take it from someone who needed a lawyer to break up with her girlfriend before they got back together again.

So, she just makes a calming gesture and says: “Okay, okay, that’s fine. You don’t have to tell him if you aren’t ready.”

“I’ll never be ready, I’m taking this to the grave,” Eddie vows.

“That’s fine too,” Hen says.

“A little dramatic, but yeah,” Karen adds.

Eddie pouts at Karen. “I’m not dramatic.”

Karen squeezes his cheek then pats it two times as she says: “Sure you aren’t. You’re just being pouty for no reason.”

“I’m not being pouty,” Eddie pouts harder.

Thankfully, he has forgotten about the scare Hen gave him about potentially telling Buck about his feeling and is distracted by Karen. The protest about pouting turned into kids behavior, which turned into them bitching about pick up line, especially the other parents at the pick up line and their nosiness. Hen just lets them.

Though soon after the fun is over. The shift they came off wasn’t too tiring or busy, but it was a long one and the exhaustion starts to catch up. Hen can feel it herself and she can see Eddie nodding off here and there too.

So, she steps into the hallway and calls Buck, who immediately picks up: “Hen, why did Eddie text me that you know and are taking him to meet your wife?”

“Because I do know and I did take him to meet my wife,” Hen tells him as if that’s not strange. “I need you to come pick him up.”

“What did you do to him?” Buck asks.

“Why are you so distrustful?” Hen shoots back.

“Because you have sensitive information,” Buck guffaws.

“That I promised not to tell,” Hen says. “And I didn’t. We just drank some wine – Eddie is apparently a great wine taster – and heard his side of the story. You never did tell us how you two met. Not as romantic as I envisaged.”

“Oh fuck off,” Buck says, though he sounds relieved. “And he’s okay?”

“On the wrong side of tipsy, but doing great. He has a lot of opinions about one Janet.”

“From pick up line?” Buck asks surprised, before – less surprised – he adds: “Of course he does, Janet is a bitch.”

“Okay, so you share opinions about Janet,” Hen replies with amusement. “Can you come pick him up? I want to get my post shift nap in, before me and Karen go out for dinner. It’s date night.”

“Yeah, sure, text me the address,” Buck says. “Is it going to be a quick in and out or like a long thing, because I’m just gonna buckle Chris in and take him with me, but I’ll leave him in the car if it’s quick.”

Hen glances over to Eddie, who is now fully sleeping on the couch, while Karen plays a game on her phone next to him. “It’ll probably be a quick in and out.”

“Alright, see you in a bit.”

“See you in a bit.”

Indeed Buck shows up a little while later. Hen opens the door for him, shooting a curious look at the jeep to see a young boy with brown curls and thick, red glasses reading a book in the backseat.

“He’s been really into this book series recently, so he’s practically shut off from the world,” Buck says when he follows her eyes for a second. Then he claps his hands and says: “Now, show me the patient.”

At this point, the patient in question is fully sleeping on the couch, a rosy flush still on his cheeks. The sight actually stops Buck in his tracks for a second and Hen mentally files that away to make fun of him for later.

He quickly shakes Karen’s hand introducing himself as she giggles. She’s probably connecting the things Eddie just said about Buck to Buck and can’t keep a straight face, or just plain laughing because of the same thing Hen just filed away, since the wine stripped her off the ability to keep it in. Buck is a little confused, but takes it in stride, before going to study Eddie, seemingly trying to make a decision.

Buck watches Eddie doze for a second, trying to decide whether he’s going to disturb his sleep or bruise his ego and just pick him up to tuck into bed at home. In the end, he decides on waking him up. He doesn’t know what kind of conversation he’s had with Hen and Karen and he doesn’t want to push more.

After a beat or two, he gently nudges Eddie’s shoulder, softly saying: “Hey, Eddie, it’s time to wake up, okay? We’re gonna go home.”

Eddie’s face screws up and he burrows his face further into the couch cushions as he wines: “I don’t want to go home. I wanna stay with my new friend, Karen. She’s really nice.”

“I’m glad you had fun,” Buck says, looking highly amused. “It’s good that you made a friend, but we’re gonna go home now.”

“You’re mean,” Eddie says, popping up to pout at Buck. Though whatever he wanted to say, seems to die on his lips when he spots Buck. Instead an awed, very in love expression coming onto his features.

Buck is oblivious to this, snorting and shaking his head, before he huffs: “Yeah, the meanest. Now, up you go, Chris is waiting in the car.”

“Chris!” Eddie lights up at the mention of his son. “He’s here?” he asks, looking around.

“He’s in the car outside, you gotta get up and say bye to Hen and Karen and then we’ll go see Chris, yeah?”

“Alright,” Eddie groans, before holding up both his hands.

Buck hesitates for a moment, then grabs them and pulls Eddie onto his feet. Immediately Eddie stumbles forward, half draping himself over Buck as he complains: “My legs are jello. Too much wine.”

“Sure, wine,” Karen snorts, then giggles.

Eddie half glares at her from his position on Buck’s shoulder and mutters: “Shut up.”

“Okay, that is enough hospitality from Hen and Karen for today,” Buck decides, bending forward slightly and picking Eddie up, who goes easily, though with a small yelp and a flush on his face.

This time Buck sees Hen take a picture of them and gives her the middle finger, before asking: “Will you help with the doors, I need to get this lightweight to the car.”

“I’m not a lightweight,” Eddie protests, even while making no move to get put down again, instead making himself comfortable.

“Sure you aren’t,” Buck says affectionately.

“I’m not,” Eddie frowns. “I just haven’t drank much in a while, I don’t know if you remembered, but I got shot. I wasn’t allowed to drink.” A beat. “And clubs are stupid.”

Hen sees Buck’s face become pinched when Eddie references his injury so casually, but you can’t hear it in his voice when he agrees: “Okay, you’re not a lightweight. Hen, the doors?”

“Yeah, sure, no problem,” Hen quickly says, moving forward to open the front door and slipping out so she can get the car.

As Buck follows behind her, he calls out a greeting to Karen, who stays on the porch. From where he is half slung over Buck’s shoulder, Eddie waves cheerfully, any earlier grudge forgotten as he calls out a goodbye.

Karen waves back, yelling: “Come by again, we’ll try more wine.”

Hen can hear Buck mutter, “That sounds like a bad idea,” but it is mostly drowned out by Eddie yelling back: “Sounds fun. Text me?”

“I will,” Karen calls out, even though she doesn’t have his number. Hen will probably have to give it to her later.

Meanwhile, they’ve arrived at the car and Hen has opened the door. As Buck wrestles Eddie into the passenger seat, Hen focuses on Chris, who has rolled his window down and is curiously looking at his two dads.

“Hi, I’m Hen, I work with your dads,” she introduces herself.

Now Chris looks at her, smiling: “I’m Christopher, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” Hen smiles. “You okay back there?”

“Yes, I’m reading,” Chris tells her in an unbothered cheerful manner. “Papi says daddy had a little party with his friends, are you and that lady his friends?”

“We are. That’s my wife, Karen,” Hen says. “Your daddy is acting a little silly right now because of our little party, hope you don’t mind.”

“It’s okay, we’re just glad he’s making friends,” Chris says in that candid way only a child can. Then he whispers: “Daddy doesn’t like people very much.”

Hen laughs at that and says: “Well, he seemed to have fun. So, he at least likes some people. Have a good day, alright?”

“I will, you too,” Chris smiles, then turns back to his book.

Buck is now done with getting Eddie into the car, closing the door with a slam. Eddie is leaning back in his seat to say hi to Chris and is distracted. After one last glance to make sure he’s okay, Buck turns to Hen and says: “I would say thank you for looking out for him, but I feel like you were also involved.”

“I was,” Hen doesn’t deny it. “But it was mostly them. Seems like Eddie made a friend.”

“I’m glad they got along,” Buck gives in after a moment. Then he’s quiet for a moment, before he says: “Did anything weird come up or something? What did you even talk about?”

“Not much,” Hen shrugs. “I just wanted to know his side of the story, fill in the blanks you know. He told us a little more about how the two of you ended up married and all that. But we also just talked about the wine and school pick up, that sort of stuff.”

“Okay,” Buck nods, more to himself. “And you’re not going to tell Bobby?”

“Nah,” Hen says. “Not unless you two make it a problem at work. Are you planning on behaving unprofessionally, Buckley?” she ends pointedly, giving a look over her glasses.

Unconsciously, Buck straightens up under her gaze and shakes his head: “No, ma’am.”

Hen smiles pleasantly: “Then I see no reason to tell. See you next shift.”

“Yeah, till next shift.”

She joins Karen on the porch, watching Buck back out of their driveway. Eddie has moved on from talking to Chris, who clearly has more interest in reading his book, to messing with the radio. Buck bats his hand away when he finds something Buck must like and he pouts at him.

However, Buck is too busy backing out at that point and doesn’t notice. Because of that, he also doesn’t notice the flushed, mushy look that comes onto Eddie’s face for a moment when he looks at the muscular arm resting on his seat, before he quickly looks away.

In doing so, he catches Karen looking and she wiggles her eyebrows at him, which only make him blush more as he pointedly looks away from her.

When the jeep has disappeared from view, Hen throws an arm around Karen and asks: “So, was meeting Eddie like you’d hoped?”

“Better,” Karen grins brightly. “I think he’s going to wake up with a headache and a passion for wine. It is going to be so fun to have more wine nights.”

“You’re a little manipulator, aren’t you,” Hen says fondly, kissing her forehead.

Karen leans into the kiss as she shrugs: “I don’t think he’s getting Pandora’s box closed again, he’s going to need a friend. Two birds in one stone if you ask me.”

Next shift is slightly weird, because now it’s not just Buck and Hen, and Buck and Eddie in on a secret, but Buck, Eddie and Hen that are in on the secret. And on top of that, Hen is now the holder of the ‘in love with my best friend’-secret for both Buck and Eddie.

Chimney picks up on the weird vibes and brings it up a few hours into their shift. “I feel like you’re all in on something and I wasn’t invited.”

They all freeze for a moment, before Buck clumsily says: “You’re right. We created the ‘our name is not an object’-club and we’ve been keeping it a secret.”

It’s very clearly a lie, but it’s so ridiculous that it kind of sounds like Buck making fun of Chimney for seeing something that’s not there. So it works in their favor.

“Oi, you’re name is also an object, dumbass,” Chimney decides to take offense with Buck’s lie anyway. “I mean, can I borrow a buck; ring any bells? Or Hen, hen is a thing, it’s a chicken.”

“Oh my god, my name is an object,” Buck mutters, having a crisis over that.

Eddie, however, protests part of Chimney’s statement: “Hey, a chicken is an animal, not an object. You think animals are just things? Chickens are great.”

That gets a smile out of Buck that Hen doesn’t get, before he joins in on it, while Chimney desperately tries to defend himself. The whole thing is so absurd that it breaks the tension between all of them and they settle back into their pre-wine drunk Eddie routine.

Some things do change, since Buck and Eddie emergency babysit Denny that one time when their usual babysitter fell through on date night, and Eddie and Karen have become actual friends, texting and even drinking more wine a few more times.

Hen can’t say for sure what happens all the time when they do, because she actually got kicked out of her own house for wine club last time – something the two of them probably came up with on the spot – so she and Buck ended up taking Chris and Denny to the movies that evening, since the two get along and it was better than sitting around doing nothing.

However, overall, it’s normal. They have a dynamic.

Two months into Eddie working there, that balance gets thrown off again when a new variable gets introduced; Maddie Buckley.

When she suddenly appears in the firehouse, Hen has to do a double take and reassess her view of Buck once more. She already knew he could keep secrets, but with how bad a liar he was and how many secrets she has already gotten out of him, she honestly thought there wouldn’t be any more. However, he is like a vault when it comes to secrets and it surprises her anyway.

Maddie seems like a nice person and Hen hates that what she thinks is implied happened to her. And she hopes Maddie settles in here okay with Buck and Eddie, especially since Buck looks so heartbreakingly hopeful when he asks her to hang around.

Hen can’t imagine what that must be like, to have a sibling you love so much be so far away and hurting and to have them here now and feel like they’ll slip away.

When Buck comes in next shift, they all ask about it of course. He smiles and says she’s doing good and taking the sharing with Buck well, from which Hen infers she must have gotten the whole marriage of convenience and son run down and is taking that well.

However, she doesn’t get any further information until their first weekend off when there is sudden knocking at the door. She opens it to find a frazzled looking Eddie asking: “Is Karen home?”

“Also hello to you,” Hen says, opening the door wider. “Karen is in the kitchen.”

“Ah, yeah, hello,” Eddie says, brushing past her. “It’s an emergency.”

“Emergency?” Hen repeats to herself. “We’re first responders, why does he need Karen for an emergency?” She stands by the open door in confusion for two seconds, before shaking herself out of it and going to see what this emergency is.

Apparently it’s serious, because when she gets there, Karen has made tea and is setting it down in front of Eddie, asking: “Alright, so tell me. What’s the problem?”

“Maddie,” Eddie groans.

“As in Buck’s sister? She seemed nice,” Hen comments as she sits down too.

“She is, she is,” Eddie assures them. “It’s just also horrible.”

“How so?” Karen asks.

“I-” Eddie stops for a second. “I’ve never had to impress in-laws before. I met Shannon’s mom once, but that was just after she’d given birth and that had been so stressful that I didn’t even think to be stressed about that. But with Maddie, I actually want her to like me, but I don’t want her to know that I want her to like me.”

“Okay, explain that one to me,” Karen requests.

“Well, if I want her to like me, that’s suspicious and she’s already suspicious of me, because I’ve basically trapped her baby brother in a marriage, so she keeps side eyeing me and Buck doesn’t notice, because he’s too happy to have his sister back and Chris is a kid, who is still excited about the novel tía he discovered so it’s just her and me, locked in this stand off,” Eddie explains. “And that’s not even touching on the bed situation.”

“We’re coming back to the bed situation,” Karen tells him, before moving on. “Why is she suspicious of you? You didn’t trap Buck into that marriage. Doesn’t she know that?”

“She does. We – well, Buck – did explain that after she yelled at me. A lot,” Eddie says, looking kind of scared at the memory. “But it’s not a good look, is it?”

“What do you mean?”

“Look at it from her perspective. Buck married me for my benefit and she knows he has that big heart of his and she’s definitely protective of it – which I understand with their childhood – so she doesn’t trust that at all. And we were meant to be divorced, but we aren’t, so it only looks like I’m trapping him more, because it’s easy. Taking advantage of him. And me being the one that came up with lying about it at work, that looks even worse!”

“Okay, yeah, I can understand how that might seem a little bad at first glance,” Karen winces sympathetically.

“But Buck talked to her about it, right? She knows that’s not what’s happening, right?” Hen asks, unable to believe Buck wouldn’t set the record straight when Maddie yelled at Eddie ‘a lot.’

“He did. I wasn’t there when he did, so I don’t know what he said and she now only seems to tolerate my presence, but there is something she hates about me and I can’t figure out what and it’s stressing me out,” Eddie exclaims.

Hen and Karen exchange a look at that. If Buck talked to Maddie without Eddie there, he might have told him he’s in love with him, which means Maddie probably thinks Eddie is playing with her little brother’s heart. That’s not an easy one to come back from.

Eddie misses the glance due to the despair and Karen pats his back as she says: “I’m sure she’ll come around. You’re a great guy. She’s only just got here, she’s probably waiting to see what kind of person you are, before committing to liking you.”

“I hope so,” Eddie says miserably.

“Don’t be like that, I liked you immediately. Maybe you should ask her to wine night, seeing you tipsy will warm her up to you,” Karen suggests.

Eddie sends her a deadpan look. “I don’t think me waxing poetry about her baby brother’s muscles is going to warm her up to me, Karen.”

“Maybe not the muscles, but your one about his eyes is pretty good,” Karen grins.

“I hate you,” Eddie blushes.

“I know,” Karen tells him unbothered. “So, tell me about this bed situation.”

Somehow, Eddie becomes pinker as he confesses: “Buck gave Maddie his room, so we’ve been sharing my bed again.”

“Again?” both Karen and Hen repeat quite loudly.

“Yeah, we shared back in Texas, since we only had one bedroom, but then we didn’t share-share often, because I worked nights and he worked days, so it was more that we both used the bed. Now, we’re sharing and-” Eddie swallows and doesn’t look either of them in the eye as he continues, “Buck is a hugger.”

Hen forces her face into something neutral, not wanting to do anything suggestive that would make Eddie uncomfortable. Karen, on the other hand, has no such issues, whistling and wiggling her eyebrows in that adorably dorky way of hers.

“Shut up,” Eddie hisses, more embarrassed than genuinely put off as he buries his face in his arms, slumping over the table.

Karen gives a quick side bar to Hen, explaining: “Eddie recently discovered what sexual attraction feels like.”

“Is that why I got kicked out last wine night?” Hen asks.

She nods and apologetically says: “Yeaaah, he had to talk it through with someone who doesn’t work with Buck. But for now, he’s… coping.”

“I’m not coping,” Eddie calls out, voice muffled by his arms. “This is the worst. I wake up every day with his warm body plastered to my back and his strong arm pinning me to the bed.”

“Oh, sounds terrible,” Karen says sarcastically.

“Just because you can lick your spouse’s muscles, doesn’t mean I can,” Eddie mutters spitefully.

Hen realizes that this is a two way street and she has also been a topic of conversation. Scandalized, she slaps Karen’s arm lightly as she gasps: “Karen.”

“What? It’s nothing bad, everyone knows I like your muscles. It’s nothing I wouldn’t mention to my mom,” Karen defends herself.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it, Hen,” Eddie backs Karen up, having come out of the hiding spot in his arms to do so.

Suspiciously Hen looks between the two for a moment, before she believes them. “Okay, but don’t tell him anything too weird.”

“I’d never do that,” Karen promises solemnly.

Then the conversation is broken from a yell from deeper in the house. “Mama, can you help me with my biology homework?”

Happy to extract herself from the situation, Hen calls back: “Of course, sweetheart, I’m on my way,” already halfway out her chair, before she’s done.

By the time Denny understands his biology homework and has filled in all the sheets they were assigned, Eddie and Karen must have come up with some plan to tackle the Maddie and bed sharing situation, because when Hen joins them again, Karen is recounting the drama from the farmer’s market to Eddie, when Fred accused Hendrick of using a pesticide.

Eddie is properly engaged with the conversation, gasping and exclaiming at the right points and interjecting his own opinion, despite not being present or knowing any of the people involved. He looks comfortable, at home in his skin. Hen thinks he’s come a long way from the kind of uptight, nervous, professional man she met that first day.

They all continue chatting for a little more, until Eddie decides that he really must be heading home. So, they see him out.

At the door, Karen pep talks him a little more. “Just be yourself and show her how much you care. Give it some time and you’re gonna be just fine.”

“I’m gonna be fine,” Eddie repeats determinedly. Before adding, “I hope.”

“That’s the spirit,” Karen says cheerfully. “And if all else fails, you can always still tell her that you’re just madly in love with Buck and have no ill intentions towards him and would never hurt him, so she shouldn’t worry.”

Going off Eddie’s look, it is clear that this is not the first time Karen has suggested it. Mentally, Hen can’t help, but agree with the suggestion. Eddie not so much. He just glares: “I’m not going to do that.”

With that, they say their goodbyes.

Next shift, Hen is dying to ask how it’s going, maybe even prod a little. She watches Buck complain about the traffic after bringing Maddie to work and she is just about to tease by asking him, if he at least slept well, when the ground starts to shake. An earthquake.

Any thoughts of teasing Buck are thrown out the window as they all pull out and get to work. A natural disaster is bad for anyone, but it will prove especially busy for first responders.

Hen is right in that regard, she doesn’t get a moment of peace to catch her breath, until she herself has become trapped in the parking garage of a hotel that is about to collapse on top of her. It’s not the most ideal break, if she’s honest.

She’s sitting there. Dust in her lungs and her eyes. Her muscles ache and her throat is sore. And, most of all, she’s tired. Exhausted really.

Thoughts about anything from before this moment are wiped away and nothing exists in that moment, except her shaking breaths, stuttering heartbeat and ringing in her ears. Around her the dark space is pressing down on her.

In that moment, the only two things she can think are 1) I am going to die down here, and 2) I am never going to see my family again, never going to see Denny and Karen again.

It’s a terrifying thing.

Nothing like a natural disaster to make you realize how close you are to losing all you have. All you hold dear.

Tears push at her eyes and she’s very aware of the dead body not that far away from her. She tries to remember if she said a proper goodbye like she always tries to do before she left, or if she’d been in a hurry this morning. Tries to remember if she told Karen she loves her.

She wants to make sure Karen knows how much she loves her. How much she loves this family they have together. That Hen never wants to lose her. That she would do anything to come home to her, but the situation is just so hopeless.

Unable to just sit still and do nothing, Hen takes out her phone and records a message for Karen. She would call, but cell service is still down. She doesn’t get to hear Karen’s voice again and that thought breaks her heart.

Hen holds the phone up and records what will likely be her final words with a voice that is squeezed by a tightness in her throat and halted by her brain.

When she’s done. She nearly tosses it in frustration as very real tears start to fall down her face. She doesn’t want to die like this. Helpless. She doesn’t want to die at all. She wants to come home, see her wife and her kid. She wants to live, dammit. She wants to live!

With a loud yells she starts moving again, starts trying to find a way out again. Wilsons have always been stubborn and by god, is she not going to stop today.

It feels almost like a miracle when Paisley saves the day, showing her the way out and leading her to the little girl she’d been trying to find. So many tragedies happen on days like these and just a few moments before, Hen had almost resigned herself to becoming one of them. Instead, she is a rare instance of good fortune.

She is absolutely exhausted and just ready to go home. She has called Karen when Chimney was done checking her over, didn’t mention how close she got, just told her that she loved her very much and would be home soon, bringing a friend with her. Paisley deserves a good home.

Hen is so out of it, she doesn’t even think to act surprised when Bobby seems to know about Chris. She just nods at Eddie’s smile, she knows the feeling. The first earthquake always is the roughest, especially with loved ones out there, with a kid out there.

Buck also seems way more relaxed and there is something about him that lights up. Same goes for Eddie, Hen supposes they’re just excited to have survived such a big disaster. That their whole family did. Both of them are quite new to the game.

So, she doesn’t pay their weirdness any mind and doesn’t blink when Buck calls Eddie over so he can drive them both home, before they can even get out of the firehouse. His eyes swimming with delight as he says: “You pulled a woman up with your bare arms today. You shouldn’t be driving.”

It’s pretty daring for them with the secret they have, but Eddie doesn’t seem to bat an eye, instead thrilled to take Buck up on the offer.

At home, Hen takes a few seconds to introduce Paisley and explain why she had to bring her home, then she face plants onto her wife, hugging her tight and knocking out for about twelve hours. It’s a pretty normal routine for a big disaster aftermath.

In fact, everything is so normal that she didn’t pick up on anything and gets completely blind-sighted when coming into work next shift. Because Eddie and Buck come in together and they’re slightly late as well.

Together they make their way up the stairs, but they don’t join everyone like normal, instead stopping a few paces away and standing there awkwardly, until Bobby notices and asks: “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine, we just, uh…” Buck starts, before trailing off, unsure how to say whatever he needs to say.

Helplessly, he looks over at Eddie, who squares his shoulders and tilts his head defiantly. He grabs Buck’s hand and announces: “Me and Buck started dating.”

A shocked silence falls over the room. It last for about two beats, then:

“YOU DID WHAT? You- You! You! I can’t believe you two. Months. Months! I had to deal with your bullshit for months. And this is how I find out? You didn’t even tell me first?? I got to find out with everyone else? This is so rude. When the fuck did that even happen?”

The two of them blink a few times at her outburst, then start to explain at the same time. Buck starts: “It happened during the earthquake and you’d just been through a lot.” And Eddie adds: “It was spur of the moment with the elevator. Buck nearly died.” “Uh-huh, and then it was kind of new and we still had to talk.” “And over text was weird and we were going to see you anyway.”

Then suddenly, Buck pauses, before he can make his next excuse and says: “Wait, Eddie told you he liked me?”

Hen gives him an ‘are you for real?’-look and says: “What do you think happened at wine night?”

“Wait, you told her you liked me?” Eddie also realizes what Buck had moments before.

“How do you think I knew?” Hen exclaims, utterly done with these two idiots. She can’t believe she got invested and that is the thanks she gets.

Before the two can start squabbling, Bobby steps in: “Okay, okay, why don’t we all calm down for a bit, yeah? It’s clear there is more to this, but for now. Buck, Eddie, congratulations, but there will be paperwork and this might get you separated.” The two nod. They understand.

Then Chimney pipes up: “Hen, did you just say months? Was that what that first day was? A misfiring of horny Buck’s brain?”

“Don’t call it that,” Buck protests.

In the background, Bobby excuses himself to get the paperwork, which Hen respects, however, she wants to see whatever train wreck this turns out to be.

“What do you mean, don’t call it that? It’s what it is right? Your brain telling you ‘fuck that guy’ and you not realizing that was an instruction?” Chimney argues.

Buck jumps him, slapping his hand over Chimney’s mouth as he chants: “Shut up, shut up, shut up!” while in the background Eddie turns a bright pink. Hen isn’t going to save them, this is pay back for not telling her first.

However, she is going to ask: “So, how did it happen?” in a loud voice, which ends the fight, because Chimney is curious too and Buck gets stopped by the love struck look on his face.

“Uh, we were rescuing these two people by going down the elevator shaft. Halfway through it started creaking and coming down. It-” Eddie has to swallow thickly when reliving the moment. “It nearly killed Buck. I- I thought I was going to lose him.”

“You didn’t lose me,” Buck says, squeezing Eddie’s shoulder and looking him in the eye intently.

You can see how Eddie melts when he meets Buck’s eyes and Hen’s heart does a little ‘ahw’ at the sight, momentarily forgetting she’s annoyed with them.

“And so what? You just kissed him or some shit?” Chimney asks, ruining the moment.

Eddie snaps out of his getting lost in Buck’s eyes shtick and blushes brightly, not meeting anyone’s eyes as he does. Delighted, Chimney crows: “Oh wow, you totally just kissed him.”

“It was romantic!” Eddie protests.

“I liked it,” Buck pipes up.

Wildly, he gestures at Buck. “See, he liked it.”

“God, you two are made for each other,” Hen mutters to herself.

Before it can all spiral again, Bobby comes back carrying a stack of paper. He puts two piles down on the table and says: “You two need to fill these in, before you can continue answering questions. I’ll hand them over to the brass with my observations and we’ll see what they decide. Until then, we work this shift as usual. No funny business.”

Eddie is still pink, but Buck mostly looks sheepish. Both of them say: “Yes, sir,” before sitting down and filling in the paperwork.

Hen can tell Bobby and Chimney are itching to ask more as much as she is. However, they all wait until Buck and Eddie filled in all the paperwork before they do. The second they hand it over, Chimney starts asking something, but before he can even finish the first sound, Bobby cuts him off by stating: “You both wrote down that you’re married.”

Chimney chokes on whatever he was going to say, coughing a few times, before he squeezes out: “I thought only lesbians moved that fast,” which makes Hen snort.

Bobby sends Buck and Eddie a concerned look. “Is that true? Are you two married?”

“Uh, yes, sir,” Eddie says.

“We thought it’d be best to just be honest now that it’s real,” Buck adds.

And Hen remembers they didn’t say, because it wasn’t real anyway. She supposes that has changed, though she can’t believe this is the way they’re sharing that. They are so dumb, she thinks to herself.

“And how long has that been going on?”

“A few years, Cap,” Buck grins, only mildly apologetic.

Again all hell breaks lose and this time Hen exclaims, “Oh my god,” out loud, before needing to walk away, just be anywhere but there. She already knows the story anyway and she cannot deal with any of this right now.

She goes to the locker rooms and just sits down for a moment, needing to regroup. This is both the funniest thing that has ever happened to her and one of the more off the walls things, which is saying a lot given her line of work.

Without thinking, she pulls out her phone and dials the most familiar number. After a few rings, Karen picks up. Hen doesn’t greet her, just says: “You’re never going to guess what just happened.”

~~

A/N:

My toxic writer trait (joking) is that I will find a reason to insert Karen Wilson (and Henren in general) into any 9-1-1 fic if I can, I am a lesbian and I shall not be shamed xp

(I hate the cheater arc so goddamn much and I hate that it became relevant in the main fic and I am very happily cutting it here <3)

Also I really liked exploring Hen’s POV when she thought Buck just wasn’t out, because it’s not morally wrong to be closeted, to not want to share that, especially at work. It doesn’t make you a bad person to keep things private, no matter how accepting an environment will probably be. And it was so interesting – and a little cathartic (hi, semi-closeted bitch here) – to write those little moments where it was obvious to Hen, because she knew, but not to anyone else and how that can hurt sometimes.

I am not immune to Karen and Eddie becoming besties, it is a good fanon trope and I gladly incorporate it into my perception of the show

And I know, a little fade to black ending, but this already got too far out of hand and I thought it was a neat little ending :D

[drinkabletoxicdishsoap]

If Dev ever does get redeemed in season 2 (PLEASE WATCH FAIRLY ODD PARENTS A NEW WISH WHEN IT DROPS ON NETFLIX NOVEMBER 14), I NEED to see Jasmine and Dev interact as friends 😭 We know how he feels about Winn (he thinks they’re really cool) and we DEFINITELY knows how he feels about Hazel 💀 but I don’t really think we got any interactions or like any mentions about how he feels about her in like any episode besides maybe him introducing Hazel to everyone?? I could be missing something and if I am please correct me!

In my personal opinion, I feel they’d be gossip besties?? I could definitely be reading into Jasmine’s character wrong and if I am, I apologize but I desperately need interactions with them 💔 they remind me of that one Henry Danger Musical song 😭 I think it’s called You’ll Never Believe What Happened (I’ll copy and paste the lyrics to match them and the situation)

Dev: Sorry it took me so—

Jasmine: Ooh, Dev, you'll never believe what happened!

Dev: No, I know.

Jasmine: There's a musical curse over Dimmadelphia!

Dev: Yeah, I know.

Jasmine: And you'll never believe who did it!

Dev: Irep? (I couldn’t think of a better replacement 😭)

Jasmine: Irep!

Dev: Yeah, I know.

Jasmine: Ooh, Dev, you'll never believe how he did it!

Dev: The speakers.

Jasmine: He took control of the speakers.

Dev: Yeah, I know.

Dev & Jasmine: And then put out a weird kind of frequency and now we have to sing!

Dev: Jasmine!

Jasmine: Yeah?

Dev: Thanks for filling me in.

Jasmine: Sure!

They also remind me of the smartphone hour if we’re going the gossip bestie route:

Jasmine: O-M-G Dev, answer me! Woah, wait until I tell you what I heard! It's too fucked to type. This shit is ripe! Call back, I'll yell you every word.

Dev: Jasmine Tran calling, Jasmine Tran calling, Jasmine Tran calling. Hey!

Jasmine: Oh my God, oh my God, okay so, at the end of last night's party, very end of last night's party, Did you see Rich? (I couldn’t think of a replacement ☹️)

Dev: Oh, I saw Rich.

Jasmine: So he's behaving hazy like a tweakin' junkie, flailing crazy like a freakin' monkey!

Dev: He's gotta learn to handle his high, shouldn't drink so much for a small guy.

Jasmine: Right, but, he wasn't drunk.

Dev: The hell you say, Jasmine?

Jasmine: Yo, he wasn't drunk!

Dev: The hell you say, Jasmine?

Jasmine: No! Because I heard from Whispers Fred (I tried to think of a good replacement), that Rich had barely touched a drop. Which means that you can't blame the things he did on alcohol. It's just so terrible, I don't want to relive it all! But do you want me to tell you?

Dev: Spit it out! Spit it out!

Jasmine: You really want me to tell you?

Dev: Spit it out! Spit it out!

Jasmine: I'll tell you 'cause you are my closest friend!

Dev: No I'm not.

Jasmine: Yeah, I know. But here's what happened at the party's end. Rich set a fire and he burned down the house! Woah! Rich set a fire and he burned down the house! Ohh, I thought I was dreamin', everybody was screamin', when Rich set a fire and he burned down the house! When Rich set a fire and he burned down the house!

Sorry for another very long post but thank you so much for reading <3 I hope you have a great day or night!

[luminiciant]

rainy days

[bigfatbreak]

Birds of a Feather previous / next

[icarusredwings]

Gonna have to reject your offer of He/ It cheif. Managment (Logan) would kill you for even inferring the idea.

Other people would come along and be like "What is that thing!??"

And you would just see Logan shift instantly from "Yeah ill give you a can of beans and a place to rest" to "Get the fuck off my property before you become his dinner" all while Wade is just... sitting there... behaving??

"He's not a THING! Thats my husband you asshole! And if you don't like it then fuck off!" Followed by Gabby going "Thats my papa you jerk!"

"It's just a zombie? You're married to a sombie!?"

"Again- HES my husband. I said till death do us part except death really isnt his thing so im stuck with him. You got a problem with that!?"

It makes Wade always very happy to be defended even though he surely could do it himself. For the most part things are pretty tame.

But he DOES clap a bit when logan mentions feeding him. 'Ooh yay, I get fed multiple times today' kind of way since Logan is very strict about resources, Wades is not allowed to just eat whatever because he'd probably just eat everything.

Sometimes if Logan forgets to feed him, He'll come to Logan and give him this specific whine, like a dog begging for bacon scraps only for Logan to feel terrible. "Oh my god Im sorry we were so busy today and- ... You're starving and you're not trying to bite me... you're trying so hard.. aw fuck wade.. im so sorry.. what am I going to do with you?"

"Mmm.... rawhrah?"

"Right. Feed you before you go insane. Got it."

Some days are like this. When he's clearly much more human. Being permitted cuddles and nuzzles, to play with gabby and to sleep in the bed. It's very rare that Logan lets him sleep in the bed. But it's the happiest day for wade when he is. And its not like they can even do anything (bro lost his dick miles ago and has no clue where the fuck it went but it just fell off somewhere and now hes a ken doll. This is great for those of you who like transfem wade COUGH COUGH)

But even if it didn't fall off its not like they could do anything anyway, They can't even kiss on the lips anymore. Logan has a theory that it's similar to rabies, where the infection has to be spread through saliva into an open cut or your mouth, etc.

So the nights he's allowed, they honestly just cuddle and stare at each other for a bit before sleeping. Usually, Wade is the little spoon because having Wade behind him is dangerous.

Wade heavily sees affection as a reward now, so getting to hug the girls is a massive thing for him, getting to sit there and watch gabby draw him is a big thing, hell Logan will sometimes even let Gabby play with wade out front because Wade has whole ass attacked other zombies whos tried to hurt gabby before.

One time Laura shot him in the head because gabby thought it would be a good idea to play "pretend zombie" and Wade didnt put two and two togerher that acting 'feral' as Logan calls it, outside with gabby would be a bad idea.

"What the fuck did you do that for!?"

"He was feral and going after gabs!!"

"Nu uh!! We were playing and you killed him for no reason! Youre so mean!"

Logan just sighs as gabby runs to her bed because it upsets her greatly when they have to 'keep wade in check' she fully understands that hes dangerous but deep down thats still her papa and watching your big sissy kill your papa is not something most 13 year olds would enjoy.

".. L.. you gotta stop wasting ammo. You know if it was really a code red that wouldn't do anything anyway. You have to decapitate him if you even want a flying chance. See?? Hes already up again... hi sweetie..."

Wade, whos sat up and now giving them a confused look of 'what did I do? 🥺'

"...arr Arawh"

"Im sorry, wade.." Laura squeaks out, still holding the shot gun. Shes just terrified of loosing gabby is all. To her, gabs is her responsibility.

"Rah awr rahrrr..."

"I know. She's sorry. She's just.. scared. No more playing that okay?"

"Mmh..😔"

There is infact some drift between laura and wade but neither of them mean it. Really they dont. If gabs is put of the picture Laura still smiles and talks to him but its like the moment gabby is near him Laura goes full protection mode and over reacts.

And FOR THE RECORD i have never seen the walking dead but its terrifying how accurate that picture is.

The longest Wade has been unconscious is probably 18 hours but this was before getting to the girls.

They have witnessed the exact thing you're saying, though. With Wade tied down in the shed, on his leash, and handcuffed, trying to talk to him, yelling at him to snap out of it because he's scaring the girls. Something different about feral wade from the other zombies though is it seems he's smarter, knawing on his handcuffs while most will just flail their arms helplessly. While his teeth dont do shit to the cuffs, its scary for Logan because it makes him think that one day he might actually have to find a way to kill him permanently.

He can undo locks, open cans, do many things that the others cant and he wants to believe its just Wades human part being stronger because in some weird way hes half mutant human and half zombie. A weird combo that makes him much different.

Laura, unlike gabby, too is terrified of one day wade going feral while their father is out collecting more supplies or hunting and she wont know what to do.

Wade isnt fast though. Thats the ONLY good thing. Hes smart, cant die, and is starving to death all the time. But hes slow. Infact he dosn't heal properly. His leg is half broken still from the last time it fell off and seems to barely be receptive to his brains nerves telling it to move so he lowkey drags it, only being able to use it to stand up right and take very small steps.

When he DOES finally come back hours later, He cries. Apologizes, begs for forgiveness, and most times is actually SCARED of Logan. While he hates it emotionally, he knows that logically it was a good thing for Wade to flinch away from him after being locked up.

A scared and fed zombie is a well-behaved zombie...

And before anyone comes here to say this is dehumanization of what ever else- HES LITERALLY NOT HUMAN ANYMORE.

Case closed. Besides I think wade would worry more about the fact of him trying to kill his kids then the fact hes leashed to a wall.

I dont CARE that it's November 9th and "Halloweens over" ITS MY BIRTHDAY MONTH ILL POST IF I WANT TOO

Anyway.

Thinking about apocolpse au.

Wade getting bitten by a zombie, Logan freaking out, Wade dying, and him coming back (Again)

"Didn't you just die?? I literally fucking burried you!!"

And wades like:

"Of course. Man, God REALLY hates you dosn't he?"

And he's bassically the same person except just saying, "Rahhah har ran re" (translation: I think the devil doesn't want me either)

"What?? Oh for fucks sake... tell me you're kidding.."

"Rah?" 🤔

"Great so now you stink more and you can't talk. Fucking lovely."

"Mmmmh..." 🥺 (would you still love me if I was a zombie?)

"*sighs, blushes and grumbles how insane this is and how much of a bad idea this is* Fine! Come on...."

"Raah!!" 😄

And sometimes his limbs fall off because I think it would be funny if you just saw him stop, turn around, pick up his arm and shove it back into place like a dislocated shoulder. (Marvel Magic)

But its very obvious that Wade is still consious and so logan leads him around, puts a leash on him, ties him up when he goes to sleep the first few nights so wade dosn't eat him, sometimes luring him with a piece of his thigh or telling him he'll feed him soon to make him behave.

The only thing about this resource wise is that it seems Wade is a bottomless pit, not ever able to get enough. It's like all the nutrients just pass right through him, so he can't get fed meals daily, but Logan will share at least one bite of his food. It makes Wade so happy and way more "wade like" than zombie.

Logan has learned that the hungrier Wade gets the worse it would be, snapping at logan a few times.

"Grr-"

"Aye! That's enough outta ya"

"GggRah!"

"Hey!! I said no! Bad! Bad wade!"

"Mmmh??"

"Bad!!"

"Mmh....rahah.."

"I forgive you. But stop trying to bite me. I feed you, don't I? I hold your hand and tell you that I love you?"

Wade is actually extremely friendly for a zombie (duh) and still yaps at logan except its nonsense. Logan tries hard to understand him and talk back.

He holds his hand sometimes, even lays next to him only to scold him if he gets too bitey. This is hard because wade already had a biting issue and seeing as he practically ate anything or anybody now it was more difficult.

"...aahh-"

"Wade- No."

"Ggr.. raahh"

"Wade! No! Bad."

"Mmmh..."

"Ill feed you tomarrow. Don't bite me mkay? You wanna hurt me?"

He shakes his head like a dog shaking off from a bath, or that ate a bee.

"Then don't bite me."

"Mmh? Mrah?"

"No. No kisses right now. Im still not even sure if thats safe.."

"Mmmh...🥺 ahrrah?"

"No, not even a tiny one."

"Mm...😔"

Until Logan grunts and pecks his hand. "There. Happy?"

"🙂‍↕️mh"

"Good."

Honestly Logan felt bad, pitited him. No matter what food he ate it wasnt enough substance to sustain him and sometimes Logan would wake up to find him eating a different zombie that made the mistake of trying to eat Logan.

You ever wake up in the morning, lose your zombie boyfriend, call for him only to walk outside and see him knawing on some poor chaps arm like a happy puppy who found a chicken leg? Logan has. Many times. And he wishes his phone would charge so he could take a picture of it but unfortunately theres no electricity in the post apocalypse world.

This being said Logan is like- THE perfect guy for apocalypse au because he can smell everything and hear anyone before they even get to you, he has better wilderness survival skills then anyone I know and he'll never NOT have a weapon on him because of his claws. The only downside is that he's tired easily, needs a lot of food, and would lowkey be withdrawing from his tabccao and alchool, therefore very moody.

"Stupid fucking apocalypse having to happen when im fucking alive!! Why can't I just NOT live through ONE major historical event! Is that too fucking much to ask? One damn decade where everything is fine and dandy and- WADE! Get your ass away from that!! It's radioactive!! For fucks sake!"

"Rahahrah?"

"NO!! You can not become Spiderman! That's not how that works!"

"Aawr..😔"

The whole thing is they're on a quest to find Laura and Gabby, because when everything went to shit, they were on a cabin trip and now Logans brain is itching because he dosn't know where his babies are and its driving him insane. Once he finds them, they're gonna shack up somewhere with food and animals to hunt, and hes gonna make a little shed outside for Wade to sleep because he'll kill him if he bites one of the girls.

He dosnt care that much about himself really and he hates himself deep down for not being able to trust wade anymore but even wade dosnt trust wade, sometimes wandering off on purpose, staying about 30 feet away from him at all times, growling and giving Logan that glazed over look of unconsiousness. The only good thing about this, though, is after he removes himself from the idea of hurting Logan (because if logaj were to become infected - HA! Your all fucked. Utterly fucked. The whole humanoid species would go extinct because he'd kill anything that moved) he feels more trusting of him and it's not uncommon for them to hug after either. Afterall Wade- Some how???- is still wade and is very affectionate and sensitive when its not returned.

This whole thing also makes him think worse about himself, kicking reflective objects or staring at himself in a shop window in utter shock and disgust with a face of 'thats me..?' While logans raiding the place for supplies.

Did you know zombies can cry? Well, Wade could. Not a lot, only able to get a bit of liquid from dehydration, but sometimes Logan will catch him just... sitting there.. crying. Upset with himself for being bit. Upset with himself for trying to bite logan all the time. Upset at how ugly he is. Upset that he's starving all the time. Upset that he can't even talk to anyone, and Logan just has to guess what he's saying 90% of the time. Bro is literally

When they DO find Laura and Gabby, the girls are doing great. Laura was going to blow wades head off until Gabby ran in the shot, hugging him instantly, only to be ripped away.

"Of course my dad is the weirdo married to a zombie." Laura grunts, but is secrelty happy that wade is still 'alive'

Gabby, being as young as she is, thinks it's so SICK that her dad is a zombie now, giggling when he talks to her and holding his hand. She's not allowed near him for long, and not at all by herself, but Gabby bassically becomes Wades number one supporter, defending him when he messes up and snaps at laura.

"He's just hungry!! He's not bad! It's not bad to be hungry!" She'll say. "You wouldn't kill me if I was hungry.." she tells her bigger, more survival oriented sister whos suggested putting wade out of his misery, for his own sake. "I tried that... he found me again 3 days later." Logan tells her with a pang in his chest. It had taken everything in him to kill him the first time, and sobbed himself to sleep the next 2 days. By the third when he noticed Wade following him from a distance he couldn't believe it.

Not even the apocalypse could keep them away from each other..