#god Eddie finally

[stolenkissesdiaz]

showing ppl this whenever anyone asks about ‘the gay firefighters’ like here *shoves phone in ur face* get to know them separately and together *makes sure to not tell u the Horrors that are part of the package*

[ghost-proofbaby]

can y’all imagine sending one of those things where a girl texts her man about having a bad day or wanting coffee or something and he replies by sending her an insane amount of money (like $100+) to eddie, and just being like “why don’t you ever do this for me? 😐” as a joke

and then the man just sends you one (1) fucking dollar.

and when you’re like “REALLY??? A DOLLAR???” he just goes “I DONT KNOW WHAT YOU WANT FROM ME IM BROKE”

it would become an inside joke, him randomly sending you the smallest amounts of money possible and just going “buy yourself something nice 😏” or “don’t spend this all at once baby” to be a little shit

god i love eddie munson

[frootertooter]

The Arkham Sewer RAT doodles

Riddle me this Batman! How did I use neon green paint in various locations around the city without getting a single drop of green paint on me?

[asbealthgn]

(i am not immune to peer pressure so here's a continuation. part one here)

It’s so rare that Steve meets anyone nice anymore.

It’s just hard to find people. Dating apps suck, and ever since Robin and Nancy got together, they hardly ever want to go to bars together. And what’s he supposed to do, just drink alone and hope he stumbles across someone? 

Well, that’s exactly what happened today, sans drinking. He was heading for the bus stop, a tiny bit lost but he had a map and was pretty sure he could figure it out. He realizes he’s a tiny bit directionally challenged, and he’s still relatively new in town, and Robin and Nancy just moved to a new place, so it all came together to mean that getting there would take some puzzling out. All the same, he was prepared to figure it out on his own right up until he saw the super hot guy sitting at the bus stop and figured a little help couldn’t hurt.

And that’s how Steve ended up with an unexpected date (sort of) to Robin and Nancy’s baby shower (not a real baby shower).

Robin answers the door and smiles, then does a double take when she sees Eddie. Whoops, Steve probably should have texted her that he was bringing someone. He’d gotten a little caught up in the moment.

“Hey, hope you don’t mind I brought a plus one,” Steve says, hugging her before walking inside. Eddie follows him.

“No, no, that’s fine,” Robin says, voice a little strange as they take their shoes off and she shuts the door. “We’re all in the living room.”

They follow her through the kitchen and into the living room where half a dozen calico kittens and several adults are on the floor.

“Oh my God, they’re adorable,” Eddie says, leaving Steve’s side to get down next to the kittens. Steve gets a huge smile watching him. Fuck, he’s super hot and he’s now holding a tiny kitten, cooing at it? Steve might just get on one knee right now. Or both knees. Honestly, either one works.

If he were paying more attention to literally anything other than Eddie, Steve would notice that nearly everyone else in the room is also staring at Eddie. The only exception to that is El, who’s sitting cross-legged on the floor with the mama cat in her lap, both watching the kittens with the same wide-eyed intensity.

There’s a tap on Steve’s shoulder, and he turns to look at Robin. “Can we talk for a sec?” she asks, voice still odd.

“Yeah,” he says and follows her back into the kitchen.

She crosses her arms and leans back against the counter. “So are you gonna tell me what Eddie Munson is doing in our living room?”

“Oh, have you already met him?” Steve asks.

Her eyes widen. “Are you being serious right now?”

“Uh. Yes?”

“Steve, that’s Eddie Munson,” she says, “From Corroded Coffin?”

“From what?” he asks, though as she says, it does sound a tiny bit familiar. 

“Corroded Coffin?” she says, “It’s that band the kids love. Along with like half of America if they’re not completely scandalized by them.”

“So what, you’re trying to tell me Eddie’s famous?” Steve asks. Robin nods. “Hold on, this isn’t like Paul all over again, is it?” Paul was a guy Steve briefly dated a few years ago, and Robin had somehow convinced Steve that he was an Olympic athlete. In his defense, she had mocked up some seriously convincing news articles.

But Robin is shaking her head. “No, I’m serious this time,” she says. She reaches into her pocket and pulls out her phone. After a second she turns it around to show him the Google results for Eddie Munson. There are a lot of red carpets and pictures of him onstage. And damn, Eddie seriously is so hot.

“Alright, well, you definitely didn’t have time to photoshop these,” Steve mutters. Robin nods, patting him on the shoulder. How did he accidentally bring a famous guy over?

Just then, Eddie comes into the kitchen, a kitten in his hands. 

“Stevie, look at her,” he says, holding the kitten up.

Stevie? Robin mouths. Steve kicks her as he reaches out to scratch under the kitten’s chin. It mews at him.

“I asked Nancy—she’s terrifying, by the way,” Eddie adds to Robin, “And she said I can keep her.” He lifts the kitten to his face and it purrs as it rubs its cheek against Eddie’s. Steve is actually going to combust.

“Alright, well, I’m heading back in,” Robin says, voice back to that strained quality as she escapes the kitchen. Eddie doesn’t seem to notice, too busy whispering praise to the kitten.

Steve scratches under its chin again and it purrs at him. “What’re you gonna name her?” he asks.

“Don’t know yet,” Eddie says, “Isn’t she per—oh, hold on.” His phone is ringing, so he moves the kitten to one hand as he reaches into his pocket and pulls it out. “Hey Gar….Yeah, ‘cause you abandoned me….No, I’m in Japantown getting a kitten….No, that’s not a euphemism….Listen, I’m kinda busy, I’ll call you later, alright?…Yeah, see you, man.”

While he was talking, the kitten clawed its way up Eddie’s shirt and into his hair. “What’re you doing in there, sweet girl?” he asks, tucking his phone back into his pocket and reaching for the kitten. It’s gotten very tangled in his curls, though, and apparently really likes being there. 

“Lemme help you,” Steve says, stepping closer to Eddie and extricating the kitten. Eddie’s hair is very soft. Good to know. “Here you go,” he says, holding the kitten out for him.

“One sec,” Eddie says. He ties his hair up quickly (also hot, fuck) before taking the kitten back. He boops noses with it. “Such a mischievous little girl.” 

“Well, can you blame her?” Steve asks. He brushes a loose curl behind Eddie’s ear. “Your hair seems like a nice place to be.”

Eddie smiles at him, a dimple appearing on his cheek. “I’ll be honest, Stevie,” he says, voice getting a little lower as he moves closer, boxing Steve against the counter. “At first I just came along because you’re gorgeous, but I think I’ve fallen in love.” He holds up the kitten in one hand.

“You think I’m gorgeous?” Steve asks, feeling his face heat. 

“‘Course I do, big boy,” Eddie says, leaning closer and putting his free hand on the counter by Steve’s hip.

Maybe this is stupid and way too forward, but Eddie is so dreamy with his eyes and his dimple and his hair and the kitten in his hand, so Steve leans in and kisses him. It’s a little relieving when Eddie kisses him back, free hand lifting to his hair while Steve wraps his arms around his waist.

Steve doesn’t notice the front door opening or a new group of people that includes Dustin Henderson coming inside. He doesn’t notice them entering the kitchen and freezing as they take in the scene.

That is, not until Dustin shouts, “Holy shit, is that Eddie Munson?”

tagging a few people who asked for a continuation/asked to be tagged (sorry if i missed anyone!): @nburkhardt @stargyles @csinnamon-fox @manda-panda-monium @silly-jellyghoty @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @starquirk

edit to add that this ficlet is complete and the last part is here

[tessasbrainrotbin]

7x06 SCENE LEAK (REAL) (NOT CLICKBAIT)

[thatbuddie]

if the eddie isolation thing comes from some kind of plague/contagious agent and they need to keep eddie separated from the rest of the team i’m gonna need a scene with buck and eddie and a glass in-between them.

palms pressed as close to the glass as possible. it’s about them being right there but not together. it’s about how eddie has probably isolated himself emotionally before this for a couple of episodes by keeping the kim thing silent. but now he’s literally isolated. and he just wants out. he just wants to be on the other side with buck.

and buck being right there but he’s not able to do anything, feeling helpless once again. having to leave eddie behind to stay with christopher, not knowing whether eddie will make it once again. and their foreheads just fall forward and rest on the glass. and their eyes close. and they’re together but not at all.

[trensu]

Guess who's baaaaack! It's me, I'm back to writing. My laptop when kaput back in May and I've only recently gotten a replacement. In celebration of this, here's more of stasis in darkness. Enjoy :)

.

“Hello. I’ve wanted to meet you for years,” the god said. 

“Years? But, why would you want–? I’m–I’m no one, Lord.”

“Don’t say that.”

The god’s voice hadn’t gotten louder, yet his words carried a force that made the room tremble. The air became heavy with it. Wayne’s breathing grew haggard under the pressure of the words. Steve tossed out any idea of false privacy and crossed the room in a few steps to kneel at the other side of the bed. He took Wayne’s free hand to anchor him. Wayne didn’t so much as twitch in his direction but his knuckles went white as he gripped Steve’s hand.

“You gave me your spoils and your stories every night. I felt your love in every word you spoke to me. You’re the reason I’ve been able to exist this long. Wayne Munson, you are the most important person in the world to me."

Wayne let out a wordless cry. The hand in Steve's shook. Steve viscerally remembered how it felt to have the god’s attention like that for the first time. He also remembered how guilty the god sounded after he realized the effect he had on mortals. With a slight grimace, Steve discreetly nabbed the Lord of Night's attention. 

"I think that was a little too much," Steve suggested cautiously in a low tone barely audible over Wayne's sobs. "Maybe dial it back a little?"

The Lord of Night nodded abashedly. When he spoke again, the pressure in his speech noticeably lessened though the love in his words remained.

“So, you see, I needed to meet you in person. To thank you.”

The last part made Wayne weep louder. The grip he had on Steve’s hand increased in strength, and Steve was sort of relieved Wayne was an old man because even this frail, his hands were pretty damn strong. If he’d been any younger, Steve would’ve had bruises for sure. The god waited patiently as Wayne collected himself.

“My Lord, y-you–” Wayne gasped as his crying subsided. “I don’t deserve–”

“Wayne, you crazy old man, are you going to argue with your god?” the Lord of Night said in the same teasing tone he used with Steve all those nights in his pilgrimage. Wayne’s eyes widened.

“N-No! I’d never–!”

The god laughed, playful and bright as a star. Wayne halted his protests to stare in awe again. 

“You know, I usually encourage a bit of dissent but this time, I’m putting my foot down. You do deserve this, okay?”

Wayne nodded dazedly. He still watched the god with soft, warm eyes. His hand twitched in Steve’s as if he wanted to reach up to touch the god. Steve loosened his grip to allow it but Wayne didn’t follow through with the motion.

“...you remind me of someone,” Wayne whispered. The Lord of Night tilted his head curiously.

“Do I?” he asked. At Wayne’s nod, he added, “I hope it’s someone good. I know what people say about me these days, and let me tell you, it’s not super flattering. King of Darkness this and monster herder that, blah, blah, mean and scary, blah.”

“I know better than to pay any mind to hearsay,” Wayne replied. "I’ve found that most people are fools, my Lord." 

The Lord of Night laughed again. Wayne looked delighted. 

The rest of the night continued along the same line. The Lord of Night listened eagerly to Wayne’s every word as he reminisced about past heists and recalled fond childhood memories. Steve kept to himself, for the most part, letting the Lord of Night and his last believer bask in each other’s presence. Wayne stayed awake as long as he could but finally fell asleep as dawn approached. The Lord of Night began to fade as the first rays of the morning peeked through the bedroom window.

“Watch over him for me, please?” the Lord of Night asked Steve. “I’ll be back tonight.”

“Of course, Lord,” Steve replied. 

The sun broke past the horizon and the Lord of Night vanished. Steve took the stone from the bedside table. He wrapped it up carefully in cloth before returning it to his satchel. That level of care probably wasn’t necessary considering it was solid stone but it was the only thing they knew would keep the god tethered to this plane so far from his last shrine. Steve was charged with carrying his god's tether and he would not let him down by being careless with it.

It was also the only thing he had been given that belonged to his god. Typically, a holy warrior would be granted a symbol of their faith by a temple priest once a god had accepted the holy warrior’s offered service. Most of the time it would be a simple pendant or bracelet with a god’s sigil; a mass produced thing any follower could obtain, the only difference being that a holy warrior’s token would carry a particular blessing from the high priest. A holy warrior would carry that as a sign of their commitment until they’ve earned a more prestigious item to replace it during their years of service.

Steve’s journey so far has been as atypical as it could get. Most warriors traveled to their god's grandest temple. They recited that god's specific prayer for a holy warrior's offering, witnessed by a high priest who would then reveal whether the offering was accepted. Steve's god had no official prayers of any sort, much less temples or clergy. Steve's god couldn't really remember his own symbol aside from a vague outline of it; not nearly enough for it to be inscribed on even the simplest of tokens. 

Regardless, Steve wouldn't trade his experience for anything. Most holy warriors toiled for years, even decades, before getting a chance to meet their god. Steve met his god nearly at the beginning though he hadn't known it at the time. He'd been able to see him and speak to him. Steve’s humble offering of servitude had been accepted directly by his god rather than by priestly proxy. So what if his god wasn't able to grant him a token for his pledge? His presence was a privilege Steve would take over any boon.

It was a sentiment Steve knew Wayne understood. Steve scooted his chair closer to the bed where the old man lay sleeping. He wrapped a hand around Wayne's wrist to track his weak pulse, and settled in for his vigil.

–

Steve woke Wayne a handful of times to make sure he drank some water or ate some of the vegetable soup Steve had thrown together using whatever he’d picked from the garden the day before. They chatted for a while; Wayne telling Steve about his life before age and sickness caught up to him. Eventually, Steve was able to coax him back to sleep when it became obvious his energy was fading.

At some point in the day, Wayne’s temperature began to rise. Nothing worrisome yet, but dread trickled into Steve’s veins regardless. The old man had been fighting whatever ailed him for a while now. If a fever overcame him, Steve doubted Wayne would survive it.

When the Lord of Night appeared alongside the fading sunset, he seemed as worried as Steve. Wayne sat in bed, propped up by pillows Steve had strategically placed. His eyes were rheumy but steady.

“You’ve seen the Door already, haven’t you?” the Lord of Night asked Wayne dejectedly.

Wayne’s gaze strayed from the god. He glanced at the corner opposite of the bedroom door. His hands shook as he tried to point that direction. Steve didn't see any door there. The god took Wayne's hand between his own, tangible to his last believer even as he appeared more translucent than the night before.

“It showed up earlier today,” Wayne whispered. The god nodded.

“You don’t have to answer yet, but soon. Once you go through the Door, you’ll be in Death's domain. No god is allowed to enter there besides him. I would have lost my chance to meet you if we’d been delayed any longer.”

“Good thing you have Ser Steve. He got you here real quick from what he told me,” Wayne said with a crooked smile.

“Has he been talking himself up?” the god asked amusedly. “Trying to impress the boss?”

“It’s my first quest,” Steve butted in with mild exasperation borne of embarrassment. He hadn’t expected Wayne to mention him at all during his communion with the Lord of Night. “I have to make a good impression.”

“To make up for the first impression, huh?” the Lord of Night teased. 

Oh no, Steve thought when he caught Wayne’s curious look. He wanted to hide his face in his hands. That would be childish. Steve was a man so he was above that, unfortunately.

“Wayne,” the Lord of Night said with palpable mischief. “In exchange for all the stories you’ve given me these many years, what if I told you how I got my very first holy warrior?”

“I didn’t know better,” Steve groaned weakly in an effort to stop the story before it began in earnest. The Lord of Night made a shushing motion in his direction. 

“It would be a privilege, Lord,” Wayne said with matching mischief.

“Settle in, my loyal follower, and listen closely,” the Lord of Night began with exuberance. “I call this tale The Trial of Nine Nights.”

The rest of the night, the god recounted Steve’s pilgrimage. The way he told it painted Steve as some sort of gallant hero. It was suspenseful and whimsical. It didn’t sound like Steve’s experience at all. Yet every word was true, told with a flair that Steve himself would never have imagined. Wayne had hung on his god’s every word, despite the sporadic interruptions caused by coughing fits.

“The way you tell stories…” Wayne said faintly between coughs as the story wound to an end. “You…really do remind me of…someone. My little starmaker*. He was…” His voice trailed off weakly as he tried to catch his breath again.

“Rest now. Tell me about him tonight, Wayne,” the Lord of Night commanded as he disappeared with the arrival of dawn.

Wayne’s temperature seemed to climb with the sun. Steve did what he could to help. He stripped the bed of blankets and draped cold, damp towels over Wayne’s brow. More than once Wayne had asked Steve to answer the door.

“Someone’s knocking,” Wayne insisted.

“I’ve checked already,” Steve lied. He hadn’t heard a single knock all day, much less one coming from the very door-less spot Wayne kept indicating. “No one’s there.”

Wayne drifted in and out of a restless slumber. Despite Steve’s efforts, the fever had not lowered by nightfall. The Lord of Night paced at the foot of Wayne’s bed with a caged restlessness. Wayne had yet to wake up. 

“I don’t think he’s going to make it. Can you do anything for him?” Steve asked, hesitantly. “You came here to help him, didn’t you?”

“No,” the Lord of Night said shortly. “I can’t. I’m not a god of medicine. I’m not a healer.”

Each word was said with increasingly helpless frustration.

“I’m not strong enough to calm his dreams. I can’t ease his pain,” the Lord of Night said angrily. “At this rate, I won’t even be able to apologize to him.”

“Apologize for what?” Steve asked incredulously. Steve’s question went unheard. The Lord of Night tugged at his hood as if trying to hide his not-face. He gave up his pacing and slumped defeatedly on the chair beside Wayne’s bed.

“His family has sustained me for so long. He’s so devoted to me, and I keep failing him,” the god said, voice thick with shame. The brooding silence that followed was unlike the Lord of Night’s usual demeanor.

Steve wanted to protest the god’s claim. He was tempted to ask why the god believed he’d failed his last follower. Steve had seen people who’ve scorned and rejected their gods for a multitude of reasons. Wayne had not behaved like any of those people. Wayne had been so happy to see the god, Steve couldn’t imagine Wayne wanting an apology of any sort.

Before Steve could steel himself to ask, Wayne finally stirred awake.The Lord of Night straightened and drew the chair closer to his last follower. Steve situated himself near the corner Wayne had claimed to see a door. There wasn’t anything Steve could realistically achieve by placing himself between Wayne and the unseen door. When Death’s Door knocked, there was nothing a mortal being could do to keep it from opening. Regardless, Steve hoped he could provide some semblance of comfort by standing guard. 

Wayne’s eyes were glassy. He lay limp and disoriented, making not a sound outside his labored breathing. Neither the Lord of Night nor Steve spoke. Steve didn’t want to startle the man nor bring his attention to the unseen door. After a few minutes, Wayne finally noticed his bedside companion. 

“You,” he croaked in a daze. “I know you.”

“Yeah, it’s me.” The somber tone went unnoticed by Wayne whose entire face brightened with an unexpected joy. 

“Eddie,” Wayne said shakily. 

“What?”

“Eddie, you’re here,” Wayne said with more love and joy than Steve had ever heard from another person. He felt a momentary flash of envy that someone could hold another so dear, before it hit him that Wayne was speaking to the Lord of Night. The god seemed as dumbstruck as Steve over it.

“Is…is that me?” the Lord of Night asked. The god sounded so young and lost. It reminded Steve of Dustin and his friends when they were small. It inspired all the same protective instincts.

“‘course it’s you, Eddie,” Wayne said fondly. 

“Eddie,” the Lord of Night whispered. “Oh, it is. It is me. I’m here.” 

The words rang through the air. The finality in them nearly deafened Steve. The words were a realization that shifted the entire cosmos. The air he breathed, the light he saw, the very world he perceived had changed fundamentally. It was a change so loud and obvious, Steve was certain every human left on earth and everyone beyond the Door knew it happened. Yet between one blink and the next, the world remained the same as it ever was. Everything that had been still was and would continue to be for as long as the stars burn.

Inexplicably, Steve experienced a bout of vertigo at the shift that had and hadn’t happened. He fought back a wave of nausea that accompanied it.

“Eddie,” Wayne rasped over the rattling of his weak lungs. No longer translucent, the god appeared solid and real in a way he hadn’t even at the shrine where Steve first encountered him. Wayne’s wrinkled hand reached out to gently cup the Lord of Night’s cheek.

"Hey, Uncle Wayne," the Lord of Night said with a new voice. 

"My starmaker, I missed you. So much. But how're you here? You were gone, you di–"

"We didn't want you to be alone," Eddie, Lord of Night, responded thickly, leaning into the hand and covering it with his own.  "We wanted to thank you for taking care of us all these years."

"Don’t,” Wayne wheezed, teary. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Eddie. You deserved so much more than your pa or me ever gave you."

"No! No, Uncle Wayne, don't apologize," he said earnestly. "You were perfect. You gave us a home when pa died. We were so little and you protected us. You loved us. That's all we ever wanted."

“Oh, Eddie,” Wayne said in a heartbroken rasp. “That damn door’s been knocking all day. Who'll take care of you when I'm gone, Eddie?" 

"Don't you worry about that, Uncle Wayne. Steve's gonna look after me.”

“Are you sure?”

The Lord of Night took off his hood and turned back to look at Steve for the first time since he sat himself at Wayne’s side. All the air left Steve’s lungs in one fell swoop. His god had a face.

His god was beautiful.

The Lord of Night’s skin remained pale, providing a stark contrast to his large, dark brown eyes glittered with bittersweet joy and sorrow. His lips, full and a soft shade of pink, were pulled into a wide, mischievous grin that dimpled his cheeks. His dark eyebrows were almost hidden under wild curls. His hair draped over the slope of his shoulders and matched his eyes wonderfully.

Steve willed himself to stay steadfast and strong under the god’s gaze. The Lord of Night’s grin twisted a bit as if he wasn't entirely pleased by what he saw. The nausea from before came back because Steve knew what people looked like when he'd disappointed them. As usual, he had no idea what he'd done wrong.

“Yeah, I’m sure. He already promised,” Eddie, the Lord of Night, said. He turned back to Wayne and gently wiped the sweat off the old man's brow. 

“Good,” Wayne said with a. “You need someone takin’ care of you, the way you get in trouble all the time.”

“We weren’t that bad,” Eddie said with a watery smile. After a pause, Eddie continued reluctantly. “Uncle Wayne, if you need to answer the Door, you can. I won’t be alone.”

“Yeah,” Wayne murmured. “I’m tired, Eddie.”

“You won’t be for long, I promise, just answer the Door.”

Wayne’s breathing slowed. His eyes drooped closed. Eddie clung to his hand until it went lax. A choked sound escaped him when Wayne’s breathing stopped. Steve instinctively stepped forward to comfort him but Eddie abruptly stood up, sending the chair clattering to the floor. He whirled around and stumbled towards the empty space Steve left behind. 

“You better take care of him. Wayne is a good man, he’s earned–” Eddie said to…the wall? But stopped and reeled back. His mouth curved down in a scowl. Eddie’s eyes were dark and glowering as he stared at something there that Steve himself could not see.

“Oh, fuck you, I know I can’t do anything to you but–”

Eddie stopped again. He looked like he wanted to punch something. Or someone?

“I just want to know that he’ll be happy and saf–hey, asshole, I’m still talking you, don’t you dare– FUCK,” Eddie shouted at nothing. He panted in anger. Steve cleared his throat.

“My Lord?”

“I forgot how much of a dick he is. It’s not like I was asking for details! I don’t fucking care what’s past his stupid Door. It’s not a crime to want your family to, like, go somewhere good after. He could’ve just said yes or no!” Eddie ranted.

“My Lord, I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“Oh,” Eddie paused. “Right. You wouldn’t. And you shouldn’t. Not yet. Not for a long time, hopefully.”

------

*starmaker - so this is a reference to some lore i dropped in the previous scene during some edits I made after I had posted it on tumblr. basically, the legend explains why bedtime stories are a thing and that the lord of night creates a star for every story that impresses him. a really good book or author will get called a starmaker, though to the general population it's just a thing people say to denote greatness in stories without context of where the saying came from.

------

and now we're all caught up with what i've written so far, wow! but don't worry, i still have plenty more to write, stay tuned.

[livelovecaliforniadreams]

[confessionsdiaz]

eddie's staring truly never ends

he cant keep getting away with this

i couldnt include them all sadly

this one gets me

BONUS- eddie not being able to look at buck in a coma

[diazsdimples]

Fuck It Saturday

I'm not sure if it's friday anywhere anymore so we're fucking it on a Saturday!! I've been super lax on writing this week because I've got a beefy 3k word report on care for transgender/gender diverse parents during pregnancy due on Monday and I am not even halfway done dfkjds. BUT I did get a small trickle of Frostpunk AU beans so I thought I'd share! Snippet below the line bc it's kinda long

Tagged for Friday & Saturday by @smilingbuckley @thekristen999 @dangerpronebuddie @spotsandsocks @bidisasterevankinard

@cal-daisies-and-briars @daffi-990 @theotherbuckley and @kitteneddiediaz, I will be getting to your snippets tonight!!

Buck’s reading to Christopher when it happens.

Ever since Christopher woke up, Buck has been keeping a near-constant vigil at his bedside, keeping the boy entertained and comfortable where he can. He’d even snuck into the Children’s Shelter to borrow some toys for Christopher - a set of cards, a rainbow puzzle, a small, plastic dinosaur toy, and a fluffy rabbit that Christopher had kept tucked under his arm ever since.

So, it’s not entirely surprising that Buck is there when Edmundo wakes up.

The first indication is the bleeping on Edmundo’s heart monitor begins to increase in speed. Buck stops midsentence and turns in his chair. The first thing he notices is that Edmundo’s eyes are open, wide and fearful as he looks around the room.

In a flash, Buck is on his feet, book clattering to the floor, and he rushes over to Edmundo’s bedside.

“Hen!” he yells, praying his friend is close enough to hear. “Chimney! Someone, come quick!!”

Edmundo’s chest begins to heave as a heavy panic sets in and he raises his arms to claw at the breathing tube down his throat. Buck grabs his wrists and pins them to his size, and is surprised at the strength of the man. It takes no small amount of effort to keep him from ripping the tube out, or scrabbing at the IV lines in his arms.

“Hey, hey it’s okay, Hen and Chimney are coming, just breathe for me,” Buck says hurriedly as he watches Edmundo gag around the tube. He knows the man will be getting oxygen, but that won’t be stopping the feeling of suffocation, the feeling of obstruction in his throat.

Edmundo’s eyes bug out as he looks at Buck, gaze boring into him in a silent plea. Help me. Make it stop.

There’s a clattering of feet on linoleum as Hen, Chimney, and another medic Buck doesn’t know the name of all sprint into the cramped med bay.

“What’s going on, what happened?” Hen asks as she comes screeching to a halt, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what’s going on. Before Buck can even open his mouth, Chimney is grabbing the extubation equipment and barking orders at Hen and the medic, all three swarming Edmundo’s bedside.

Buck’s in the way, he knows it but he cannot make himself move. Instead, he takes both of Edmundo’s hands and laces their fingers together, squeezing lightly to give Edmundo something to focus on.

“Look at me, Edmundo,” he says as Hen peels off the tape keeping the tube in place. Edmundo’s eyes flick back towards Buck, his eyebrows scrunched together, and Buck’s stomach twists uncomfortably as he sees a tear slide down Edmundo’s cheek.

“That’s it, just keep your eyes on me.”

“Okay, extubating patient now. Hen, have suction at the ready. Jess, get the O2 mask,” Chimney orders, and there’s a fluffy of movement as everyone gets in position.

Buck looks away. He doesn’t want to watch the tube come out. He’s never been the best with medical things at the best of times and this.. well he’s not exactly sure why the thought of Edmundo in particular being in pain makes him so unhappy but it does. So he doesn’t watch, instead keeping his eyes trained firmly on his and Edmundo’s hands. It doesn’t escape his notice the way Edmundo’s knuckles go white as he clings to Buck for dear life.

There’s horrible wet noise followed by the sound of suction and a volley of wet coughs, before Buck hears a deep breath in. He chances a glance upwards and sees Edmundo, eyes open and sans tube for the first time he got to Sector 118. There’s an oxygen mask fitted over his face, fogging up with every breath Edmundo takes.

Instantly, relief flows through Buck like warm honey, filtering through his veins until he’s lighter and warmer than he’s been in days. Edmundo’s awake. Edmundo is breathing on his own. Edmundo’s alive.

Buck grins, unable to contain his joy. “Welcome back to the world of the living, Edmundo.”

“Eddie,” the guy croaks, and Buck blinks.

“Huh?”

“Name’s E-Eddie. Not Edmundo,” he rasps, before breaking out into a coughing fit. Buck rushes to help him upright, takes off the oxygen mask, and holds out a container as Edmundo – Eddie spits into it, his chest heaving from the force of his coughs. Buck rubs his back, murmuring reassuring words until Eddie takes a shaky breath and allows himself to rest back against his pillows.

No pressure tagging (for Friday or Saturday) @hippolotamus @watchyourbuck @neverevan @babybibuck @aroeddiediaz

@bibuckbuckgoose @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @nmcggg @jesuisici33 @wikiangela

@loveyouanyway @exhuastedpigeon @epicbuddieficrecs @hermscat @worriedbisexual

@slightlyobsessedwitheverything @actuallyitsellie @idealuk @dangerpronebuddie @simpingforhotfictionalcharacters

@houseofevanbuckley @loserdiaz @elvensorceress @underwaterninja13 @rainbow-nerdss

@steadfastsaturnsrings @thewolvesof1998 @jehdogg @ohlookitsthearkhamknight @revenge-of-the-assbutt (lmk if you want to be added/removed)

[imthursdaysyme]

When you need to match your husband so you buy an array of headbands that match all his shirts

[castielsprostate]

genuinely though if they continue venom without tom hardy, or without eddie brock, i will blow myself up and not in a good way

[mybrainshyperfixtations]

ahajshejdhs i just finished 3x17 and like knowing abby would be making an appearance vs seeing her are two different things. i told myself i would wait until tomorrow to watch 3x18 but i fear i will be watching it now and continuing to fuck up my sleep schedule

[dykeden]

tommy was truly giving Friend in that scene. like yeah he was there but eddie was playing the bf roll in the hospital yk

[enigmatic-enigmas]

TMA OCs!!

Tom, Eddie, and Lucas- three Avatars who serve the bloodier entities. Affectionately known as the 'Blood Boys'

[watchyourbuck]

WHAT DO YOU MEANNNNnnnNnn 911 IS COMING BACK TOMORROW AJSJSJSKAKSKSKSKD AAAAAA