#with eddie buck is the responsible adult who has his shit together
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
i don't really have a coherent thesis here because it's one am but buck and eddie's dynamic with each other is almost the exact opposite of their dynamic with everyone else
#911#with eddie buck is the responsible adult who has his shit together#not always but most of the time#he is not that person to anyone else!#like that's why the interpretation that eddie 'gives him' responsibility drives me up a wall#that's not what happens!#buck IS responsible with eddie (and chris)#and eddie with buck is silly and open and YOUNG#eddie isn't staff sergeant diaz: always responsible always self-sacrificing#he can just be eddie#he can fumble and fail but also he can be indulgent and absurd and joyful#anyway they're soulmates your honor
88 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Permanence of Saying It Out Loud
Buck and Eddie are already married, but Eddie is overseas on tour while Buck raises Chris the best he can alongside his new job at the 118. He doesn’t want the pity, so he doesn’t mention his life outside the firehouse to his colleagues. However, bit by bit, they learn more about their youngest member and his family.
On AO3.
Ships: Buck x Eddie
Warnings: implied homophobia and bad parenting (not Buck and Eddie, but their parents), injuries, military, minor call to a school.
~~~
Being a single parent isn’t the easiest, especially when you combine it with a partner being stationed over sea and at war, scared that you can lose them every day and doing everything alone suddenly becomes permanent.
Some days, those thoughts nearly crush Buck. The fear that Eddie won’t come home, that it will be just him and Chris for the rest of time. That they’ll only have a flag and some pictures, never a new memory.
And he knows how everyone reacts to him sharing that his partner is over sea, that they have a kid together and it’s just him for the time being. He can’t stand their looks, those pitying eyes. He hates that he can hear them think all sorts of things; how sad he must be, how shit it is of Eddie to leave, how he’s been practically abandoned, a widower in the making.
Buck hates those looks. He isn’t being abandoned. Eddie will come back and he doesn’t need anyone implanting any ideas into his head.
Besides, Eddie has done this for Chris, he’d never just leave. When Shannon left, Buck had been injured unable to work and another tour was the only way to keep them from drowning in debt. It is different now. Buck has a good job with heath insurance. When – yes, when not if – Eddie comes back, he never has to leave again. They just need to get through this.
Sure, Buck is sad. Fuck. He misses Eddie every single day. But he’s getting through this, they’re all getting through this, no matter what other people think.
However, he doesn’t need every person he meets to fuel his darkest fears and all his insecurities. It is ridiculous to be insecure about Eddie leaving when the man married him and let him adopt his son, but some things are deeply rooted. So, for his own sake, he doesn’t mention his family.
And it’s not as if people ever suspect. Who would? Buck is 26 and a happy go lucky person by nature, why would anyone think he’s been married for years and has a kid that would’ve made him a teen dad had he been a part of the conception.
The academy isn’t a place he made a lot of friends, preferring to get through it as quickly as possible to create a reliable stream of income to get Chris into a good school.
Now he has been assigned the 118 and he’s nervous as hell. It’s the first actually long term job he’s had since he left the army and he wonders what it’ll be like to work in a team. If they’ll like him or if the work environment will be strictly professional. If they’ll ask questions about his personal life or just let him be.
As it turns out, it is the former for both those musings. They welcome him into their fold easily and Buck quickly learns that these people care. They care so much. The firehouse is a family and Buck is getting adopted into it whether he wants to or not.
He wants to keep up the distance as he always does, but it’s a little hard to maintain that, because he likes that people care about him. Likes that they check in with him, that they invite him to come to drinks with them, that they joke around with him.
Buck declines practically all invitations, though he tries to be at a few of the scheduled gatherings by coordinating with Abuela and Pepa to watch Chris while he’s there. Because he wants that friendship with his coworkers. He enjoys being around them.
With them he can be the baby of the group, the reckless rookie, who is a little irresponsible. He runs in head first without a plan, letting the others be the reliable mature adults. It’s nice to let others worry and be responsible for everything for a bit. He likes having that for himself.
Which means he doesn’t really want to tell them, because it’ll come with those looks and a whole lot of questions. And then they’ll have opinions about how he behaves, expectations of what he should do instead, maybe even comments on his parenting or the lack of co-parent. He doesn’t want that, he likes what he has now. He doesn’t want to risk it.
So, he keeps quiet, laughs that it’s a long story why his nickname is Buck, even though his name is Evan Diaz and lets them speculate on a wild social life that he doesn’t have outside of work that makes it that he declines so much.
It’s not perfect exactly, but it works.
Being with the team allows him to forget that he’s supposed to worry about Eddie, lets him be in a place without constant reminders of the husband, who is danger every single day. Eddie thinks the same of him of course, but war isn’t the same as car crashes, fires, or getting people unstuck from traps of their own making.
Just having his mind off of everything, getting to focus on the problems of others instead of his own, helps him recharge so he can be the best dad for Christopher. He selfishly allows himself to have that.
When he tells Eddie about it on their weekly phone call, wracked by guilt about lying, about hiding them, Eddie says: “Cariño, you don’t need to feel guilty. I know you’re not ashamed of us. You’re doing all you can.”
“I know,” Buck replies, not knowing why he still feels so bad about it. “I just- What if I’m not enough? Fuck, Eds, I need to forget about everything for a few hours to function. What does that say about me?”
“That you’re human, mi amor,” Eddie tells him gently. “You’re doing more than enough. You’re there for him. You’re not running. That’s more than me and Shannon can say.”
“Babe,” Buck sighs. They’ve had the argument often enough. He hates Eddie talking about himself like that and Eddie knows it. Even if right now it does cheer him up a little.
“I know, I know,” Eddie smiles gently. “I’m not running now, it was the best option. All I’m saying is that I also did pretty extreme things to stay sane, not mentioning you’re married isn’t the end of the world.”
“Thank you,” Buck returns the smile, before they move onto other topics.
Meanwhile the rest of the team observes Buck. Despite being very chatty and friendly, they slowly realize that they barely know the man outside of work. He’ll pull out a random fun fact at least once every shift, but he never mentions what he does himself off the clock.
They try to get him to open up, asking about what he did in the weekend or what his evening plans are when he declines.
He always has a vague excuse of being busy or catching up on sleep ready. Chim thinks he has a lot of one night stands that he’s embarrassed about, Hen has money on stripper side job, while Bobby tells them it’s unprofessional, then bets on trying to keep up a former frat house life.
Buck is aware that the others are curious, but none of them have straight out asked, so he never says. He wonders if he will when someone does, or if he’ll lie. He’s a bad liar straight on, a better one when it’s by omission. Do these people know him well enough to spot it if he lies or will he spin something – probably idiotic – that will become his life for however long it lasts before that implodes?
None of them ever get to find out, because the first hole in Buck’s lie by omission is poked by the alarms going off. Buck’s heart sinks when Bobby announces there’s been an accident at a school, but no just any school, Christopher’s school.
Never before has anyone gotten into that engine as fast as Buck does in that moment, pulling out his phone with shaking hands as he sends Chris a text. No answer.
The others all notice Buck’s nerves, the way his leg jiggles the whole way there, how he ignores or doesn’t seem to process their worried looks. All have noticed how he is with kids on calls, most assume he just hates knowing kids are in danger.
As it turns out, it wasn’t as serious as suspected. A class had been cooking as a fun way to learn about nourishment when an oven had malfunctioned. There was a fire, but it was small and the 136 already has it under control by the time they arrive.
Still, the school has evacuated and the 118 is there as back up in case it gets out of hand and to check over the kids.
The second their boots touch ground, Buck takes off. He often runs off on his own, but this isn’t that kind of call and the others watch in confusion as he starts going through the kids, calling out: “Chris. Chris! Christopher!”
Buck meanwhile is nearing cardiac arrest. Chris had been excited about cooking in class recently and his mind conjures all sort of fear visions where he’d been hurt and left behind, seen as a liability in the evacuation, or forgotten and immobilized somewhere. He’d heard enough horror stories of disabled people not being taken into account in evacuation plans to worry himself into an early grave.
Then, breaking through the crowd is his angel, walking towards him on his crutches as he happily calls out: “Papa! Are you here to save the day?”
Relieved Buck gathers Chris into his arms, hoisting him up to give his a kiss on the cheek. “Yeah, Superman, I’m here to save the day. Why didn’t you answer my texts?”
“We’re supposed to leave our bags behind when we evacuate,” Chris answers.
It’s such a simple thing and kind of understandable. If you have to wait for a couple of hundred kids to pack their bags before leaving, you’re never getting out of there before the building burns down, still it gave him a lot of gray hairs.
He cradles Chris’s head against his shoulder and breathes his scent in deeply. “Next time carry your phone in your pocket, okay buddy?”
“Okay,” Chris agrees easily.
In the background the 118 watches in shock as their youngest member finds what appears to be his son in the crowd. It’s completely unexpected to see Buck like this. There’s not an irresponsible bone in his body to be found right now, just 100% parental concern.
As the father and son connect, Bobby talks with one of the teachers there, who tells them where the kids closest to the fire are. He sends Chimney and Hen towards them, going to collect Buck for himself.
Buck is just hugging Chris now, assuring himself that he’s okay after the scare he just had when he hears Bobby come up behind him. He turns towards his Captain and sheepishly says: “Hi, Cap. This is Chris, well, Christopher. Chris, this is my Captain, Bobby. Remember I told you about him?”
“It’s nice to meet you, young man,” Bobby replies, holding out his hand.
With practiced ease, Buck moves to hold one of Chris’s crutches so he can shake Bobby’s hand as he sends the man a happy smile. “It is nice to meet you too.”
“I need to borrow your-” he sends a questioning look to Buck as he cautiously adds, “dad,” when Buck says nothing to correct him he continues on, “to come help check the other kids. Want to join us to see your dad work?”
“Yes!” Chris cheers and Buck sends Bobby a thankful look. The idea of being separated from Chris right now seems unbearable.
The three of them make their way to Chim and Hen. Buck puts Chris down in the grass near them and goes to check over kids alongside Bobby, shooting looks at Chris every so often, ignoring how Chim and Hen to the same to him, though theirs are more confused than concerned.
None of the kids are hurt beyond band aid work, which is a relief. Buck hates seeing kids get hurt, especially when they’re close to Chris.
When they’re nearly done, one of the teachers approaches them. She knows Buck from pick up, so she says: “We’ve been calling parents to come get their kids. We’re sending everyone home early today. If you want you can get Christopher’s stuff and sign him out now, save yourself the trip.”
“I’ll need to check it over with my Captain. Maybe Pepa will come get him instead,” Buck replies, internally cursing. Abuela hasn’t driven in years and Pepa is working today. He might get some time to drop him off at Abuela’s house, but he really shouldn’t impose so much. She already had Chris for two days this week when he had a 48 hour shift.
The others are finishing up now, which means they’ll have the time to descend on him with questions.
Wanting to delay his execution, he goes to Bobby first, lowly saying: “Chris’s teacher says I can sign him out now, since they’re all being send home for the day. I need some time to figure out a babysitting arrangement with Abuela or tía Pepa. I’m so sorry.”
“Buck,” Bobby places a hand on his shoulder. “There is no need to apologize for this. Chris can ride with us to the firehouse and we’ll watch out for him until you have this sorted.”
“Thank you so much,” Buck says sincerely. He is so very grateful Bobby is taking this in stride and giving him space to organize himself.
Then Buck flees, yes, flees. He is man enough to admit that he quickly leaves with Chris to go get his stuff and sign him out, before Chimney and Hen can get there.
The two are just in time to watch him walk away. Hen asks Bobby: “What did he ask?”
“We’re going to have a visitor at the house today until he can get a babysitter,” Bobby answers.
“More interesting question, where did he get the kid?” Chimney interjects.
“Chim, you must know how babies are made.”
“Oh shove, Hen, you know what I mean,” Chimney rolls his eyes. “Nothing out of him for months and suddenly he pulls out a kid. Aren’t you curious?”
“I mean, it does explain why he always cancels,” Hen says. “God knows that organizing everything with Denny can be rough sometimes.”
Now, Bobby likes to think himself above these things, but he totally isn’t. So he adds: “He mentioned seeing if his grandma or aunt could watch over him.”
“Just them, no other partner?” Hen asks, before whistling: “I can’t imagine doing that alone.”
“Sorry, I think my brain just broke a little trying to imagine how anyone left probie Buck in charge of a small child by himself,” Chim comments.
“Alright guys, that’s enough,” Bobby says, spotting Buck coming out of the school with Chris. “Let’s go. The 136 can handle it from here.”
Buck has already buckled in Chris when they get to the engine and is putting away the rest of his gear. He stiffens slightly when they arrive, which softens Hen a little, so she hits him with an easy one first. “So, how old is he?”
“He’s seven,” Buck smiles, unable to help the expression when talking about Christopher.
“Jeez, that’s quite old already,” Chim whistles.
“Yeah, you must have been like eighteen when he was conceived,” Hen does the math quickly.
“Damn,” Chim adds.
“What?” His eyes widen slightly in surprise, then he throws them another curve ball. “Oh. No. Chris isn’t mine.”
“Not yours?” Hen asks, following Buck to the engine so they can get in.
“Long story,” is all Buck replies.
“Where are his parents?” Hen continues to prod, curious how Buck ended up in this situation. She knows how she did and it’s not often she meets people like her, so she can’t help but poke her nose in, despite knowing how annoying it can get.
Unfortunately, her question isn’t heard by just Buck and it’s Chris who answers: “Mommy left us and daddy’s gone now.”
A painful and awkward silence falls over the people gathered in the engine. No one quite knows what to do with that revelation and the casual tone in which Christopher says it, as if being abandoned by both parents is a normal thing.
Buck break the silence with a strained laugh, giving Chris a side hug as he says: “Yeah, uhm, it’s just us two for now. But we make a great team, right, Superman?”
“Yeah!” Chris cheers, evaporating the last of the tension.
They amuse him with stories about being a firefighter, especially Buck’s antics, on the ride back much to Chris’s delight. Buck watches him fondly, a stark difference to his usual slightly mischievous grin. He suddenly doesn’t look like the team baby anymore, but like the adult he actually is.
At the station, Buck gives Chris a tour, the others butting in to add their own tidbits and fun facts here and there. They’re all still dying of curiosity, but after the reveal in the engine, they don’t feel like prodding when the kid is near.
When that is done, Buck stations Chris on one of the couches with the controller to play video games, saying: “This counts as your after school screen time, alright, kid. No arguing tonight and I’ll make pancakes for breakfast tomorrow, deal?”
“Deal,” Chris agrees seriously after a few seconds of deliberation.
“Good,” Buck grins, ruffling Chris’s hair, before he goes downstairs to have some privacy as he makes some phone calls.
When Buck returns, Chimney and Chris are racing as Hen cheers Chris on, shittalking Chimney with a big grin. He plops down next to Chris and cheers him on as well, the rest of them laughing at Chimney when he looses spectacularly.
Once the round is over, he says: “Tía Pepa is gonna use her lunch break to bring you to Abuela, I’ll pick you up there when I’m done with work, okay. She’ll be here in thirty minutes.”
“I don’t wanna go with tía Pepa,” Chris pouts, crossing his arms. “I wanna stay here at work with you.”
“You know I can’t do that, buddy.”
“Why not? Please, papa, I’ll be so well behaved.”
“I know you will, Chris, but it’s dangerous. We might get called away to scary places where I have to help. It’ll be chaos and I can’t watch out properly for you there. I made a promise to keep you safe, remember? You wanna tell daddy you made me break my pinky swear?”
Silently, the 118 lets out a relieved breath at Buck mentioning Chris’s father. With the way the kid said gone, they feared he might have meant death. But this sounds like maybe Buck isn’t entirely alone, even if the comment clears up nothing as to how Buck got to be in charge of the kid.
Meanwhile Chris’s pout persists, even when he slumps slightly in defeat. He huffs: “I just wanna be a firefighter like you, papa.”
Everyone can see how Buck melts at that, hugging Chris close to his side. “Thanks, little man. I’m sure you’ll be a kick ass firefighter. And we also have enough time to go down the pole before tía Pepa gets here, what do you say?”
“Can I really?” Chris asks with big excited eyes.
“Of course, Superman, let’s go!” Buck matches his enthusiasm, roping the whole team into helping Chris go down the pole. Twice.
They’re interrupted by Pepa arriving. When Buck spots her, he says: “Alright, tía Pepa is here. Be good her and Abuela, okay? Remember, I’ll pick you up the second I’m done here and we can have a night together, yeah?”
“Okay,” Chris says moodily, moving to gather his stuff upon Buck’s further instructions.
As Chris does that, Pepa says: “Evantino, you can’t keep doing this. Mamá is getting old. She’ll hurt herself one day if you keep letting her raise him while you work.”
“I know, tía, I know. I’m working on it. We’re still settling, you know how the paperwork gets, it’s one big bureaucratic maze,” Buck replies softly, not wanting Chris to overhear them arguing, especially when it’s about him. “It’s enough of a headache to figure everything out with Eddie’s insurance. It hasn’t been the priority.”
“Make it a priority, before it ends in a hospital,” Pepa tells him sternly.
Buck sighs, turning into himself. However, he manages to plaster on a happy look to say goodbye to his kid, waving him out the door with many promises of a fun night and pancakes for breakfast. The mask only slips off when the two are out of sight.
Hen comes up next to him, a comforting hand on his arm. “That looked rough. Are you okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” Buck tells her tiredly, looking much older than he is. “It’s just a lot to keep track off.” Weakly he jokes: “I use all my common sense points on figuring out the paperwork that I don’t have any left here at work.”
“Paperwork can do that to a man,” Chimney jokes back, trying to give him that much at least. It’s a success, because Buck gives him a small smile.
Getting them back to more serious and relevant topics, Hen asks: “Why are you doing it all alone? Where are his parents?”
Buck takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “His mom left a few years ago. She wasn’t ready to be his mom. Or a mom in general. When she and Chris’s dad got divorced I thought an extra set of hands would be enough to keep her in Chris’s life, but when her mom got sick, she left and didn’t look back. She lives here, actually. I wanted see if she felt up to being a parent now, since Eddie, Chris’s dad, is off in Afghanistan, but it’s a no still. Eddie’s a soldier, by the way. Army medic.”
That explains why Buck is doing this alone, Hen thinks. He has too big a heart, stepping in to help his girlfriend, then sticking it out even when she leaves. She respects him for it, even if it’s a huge commitment to make at his age.
Chimney claps Buck awkwardly, saying: “That’s rough, buddy.”
“Really?” Buck asks incredulously. “Avatar?”
“What, it’s a classic,” Chim defends himself. “I’m surprised you know it with how media illiterate you are.”
Buck shrugs: “Chris likes it.”
Before the bickering can derail further, Bobby joins them. “Well, you’re not entirely alone now, Buck. You have us. I’m sure you had your reasons for not saying it earlier, so I’m not going to pry, but if you need something to take of Chris, all you need to do is say so.”
“Thank you so much, Cap,” Buck says, hugging the Captain tightly, before letting go, wiping his tears. Hen gets it, the relief of knowing someone is at your side, she still remembers that feeling from when Karen agreed to raise Denny with her.
She also steps closer to Buck and offers: “I’ve been in the field a long time, I know a lot of health care professionals, nurses, caregivers. If you want, I could introduce you to someone to make the bureaucratic nightmare that is the US healthcare system a little easier to navigate.”
“That- that would mean a lot,” Buck says, hugging her too. “Thank you.”
Chimney cheerfully offers: “I can be a fun guy feeding your kid fast food and being a minor bad influence when he stops by again. Got nothing else I’m afraid.”
Buck grins and he slings an arm around Chimney. “That’s also appreciated, man. Thanks.”
After that, it’s a little different. Not in the way Buck feared, though. Now that they know that this job is the non-stressful part of his life, they can steer him straight more easily and having them know about Chris makes it easier to organize everything, even allowing him to hang out with the others, become closer.
Chris talks about his daddy who is being a hero far away from time to time and people give him the look that Buck dreads sometime, however, they don’t seem to have realized that Chris isn’t the only one waiting for Eddie to come home to his family. Buck is strangely grateful for it.
The others don’t ask him how he’s dealing with it all, but how Chris is, allowing him to talk about it all through a proxy. It’s strangely nice. Having this family is strangely nice.
Naturally that means it can’t last.
This whole having a nice family and dealing with it without having to share gets blown to pieces when Buck gets a phone call while at work. They’re all hanging around by the kitchen while Bobby cooks when his phone rings. He picks up without really looking who it is: “Hi, this is Buck.”
“Hello, is this Evan Diaz?” the voice greets.
Fear grips his heart and he walks away from the group to get some privacy as he says: “Yes, this is he. How can I help you, did something happen?”
The others look in confusion as Buck walks away after picking up the phone, his voice seeming off somehow. They keep watching as he listen, then suddenly he stumbles, sobs and goes down to his knees. In a broken voice they hear him ask: “Oh, god, is he alive? Please, tell me he’s alive.”
Worry immediately takes over all of them and they rush to their youngest member, who is barely holding it together. They watch as he crumbles in relief. “Oh thank fuck. Where is he? Can I see him?”
Whoever is on the other side of the line must reply, because Buck is nodding: “Yes, yes, of course, thank you. I’ll- I’ll be there when I can.”
He hangs up with trembling hands, another sob ripping from his throat. Hen shares a worried look with Bobby and Chimney, gathering Buck into a hug. He clutches her arm tightly and she rocks him back and forth for a moment, before asking: “What happened, Buck? What’s wrong?”
“My- my husband,” Buck gasps. “He- he got shot down. Fuck, he’s in a- a coma. In a hospital in fucking Ger- Germany somewhere.”
That is one hell of a revelation and all three 118 members present freeze for a second, sharing another look. This one is more disbelieving, as if to ask: ‘Did you hear that too? Or am I going crazy?’
However, this isn’t really the moment to ask for clarification, because Buck is still sobbing: “Oh god, he might- he might die. All this time I didn’t want people to- to pity me, because he was gonna come back. He is supposed to come back. Doing it a- alone is not- it’s not meant to be permanent. I- I can’t do it alone.”
“Okay, Buck, just breathe, okay, breathe with me,” Bobby starts encouraging him to follow Bobby’s breaths, knowing Buck needs to calm down before he can think rationally about this.
Chimney flies to get him a glass of water, while Buck tries to do as Bobby instructs. Hen just keeps rubbing his back, hoping the touch is as soothing as intended.
After a while Buck has his breathing under control and the tears have slowed down. Once he is deemed okay enough, Bobby carefully asks: “Want to tell us what happened?”
Buck nods, then sniffles: “Eddie, he- he rescued a convoy. The chopper went down, he pulled everyone out. He got- oh god, he got shot.”
The tears start up again and Buck struggles to get himself under control for a few seconds, before he can go on. “They’re gonna move him to Washington and I know that moving him means he’s doing well, like I know that, logically. But… fuck. He’s in a coma. So many things can go wrong. Chris can’t lose his father like this, I can’t lose him like this.”
“You don’t move a patient that far unless you’re confident in their ability to make it safely into transit,” Hen tells him gently. “First you stabilize, remember? Eddie is going to be fine. You’re going to see your husband again.”
“You really think so?” Buck asks with big insecure eyes that are still wet from the tears.
Hen’s heart breaks a little at the sight and she puts as much conviction into her voice as she can when she answers: “Yes, I do.”
“Thank you,” Buck says, tears spilling again. “I’m so sorry for never saying anything. About him, you know.”
“It’s alright, Buck. It’s your life to share,” Bobby tells him. “I hope we didn’t make you uncomfortable or scared to share.”
“No, not that,” Buck assures him immediately. “It’s just easier, you know. To keep it to myself. People just always give you those looks. Those stupid looks. As if- as if you’re already a widower and I- I-” He takes a shuddering breath, forcing away the new onslaught of tears. “I just wanted to have one place where people didn’t. Where this couldn’t happen.”
Buck loses the fight to the tears and he gasps: “God, how am I going to tell Chris that his daddy got hurt? What am I going to do if Eddie doesn’t wake up?”
“Hey, hey, it’s okay, Buck, it’s okay,” Bobby starts comforting him immediately. “You have us, just tell us what you need and we’re here.”
Again Buck works to calm himself down, getting out of his anxiety spiral slowly. None of the others have ever seen him like this and they wonder just how much of outlet this job has been for him.
“I- I need to call Abuela and tía Pepa and Carla,” Buck lists. “Fuck, should I- should I call his parents?”
The fact that he asks that gives them a little insight into how they might feel about their son’s marriage to Buck. He answers his own question, before any of them can figure out how to, “No, no, I shouldn’t. They’ll- they’ll try to take him. I need to get to Chris. I need to get to my boy.”
“Okay, you’re off shift for today and however long you need,” Bobby says immediately. “Go get your son.”
“You’re in no state to drive, I can take you,” Chimney offers. “If that’s okay, Cap?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Come on, man,” Chim says, clapping Buck on the back before pulling him to his feet.
Chimney drives as fast as is allowed, in the seat next to him Buck is having a tearful conversation with Abuela, explaining what has happened to her grandson. Chim mentally files away that the family they’ve met so far is the husband’s not Buck’s, vaguely wondering why he has never mentioned anyone from his own side of the family.
They first stop by a modest house where he follows Buck inside as he watches the kid efficiently pack a suitcase. It’s strange to see him like this, not just down instead of his usually happy self, but grown up. They all gathered that he acted a little child-like on the job, because off the clock he had to be responsible, but it’s still strange to see that code-switch.
With the suit case ready, they drive to Chris’s school as Buck books plane tickets in the car. Chim is pretty sure Cap gave him the rest of the day off too, because all this driving around is longer than a quick drive. However, none of the 118 could care less, one of their own needed them, of course they were going to be there.
Chim watches Buck when they roll up to the school. He’s been a proper mess since the call came in, however, now he takes a deep breath, squaring his shoulders and wiping the last traces of tears away as he gets himself under control. He has to be strong for Christopher now.
He gets out of the car and goes into the school, coming out a little later with Chris walking beside him.
The two get in the back of the car and Chim drives off again. Chris asks: “Why are we suddenly leaving, papa?”
“We’re going to meet daddy, Chris,” Buck tells him, trying to inject some cheer into his voice.
“We are?” Chris asks excitedly.
“Yeah, little man, we are,” Buck smiles, before he turns a serious again. “But daddy got hurt while he was saving people, so he needs to rest. He is going to a hospital near Washington and we are going to stay with him for a bit, until he can come home with us.”
“He got hurt?” Chris frowns. “But he is the one fixing people when they get hurt.”
“Well, right now he’s with other people who also fix people when they get hurt,” Buck explains gently, trying to keep it together.
“The same people who fixed you, before daddy did?” Chris asks.
“Yeah, Chris, the same people who fixed me when I got hurt,” Buck says.
Chimney is dying to ask what they mean by that, but he doesn’t want to interrupt, especially when Buck looks like he’s going to start crying again with the slightest push. That is not helped by Chris optimistically saying: “Then he’s going to be just fine.”
Bucks lets out a shuddering breath that is closer to a sob and hugs Chris into his side, hiding his face into Chris’s hair, so he doesn’t see the few tears that leak out. With a strained voice he replies: “Yeah, buddy, he’s gonna be just fine.”
At the airport, Buck and Chris get out of the car and Chim follows to give Buck a tight hug. Buck hugs him back just as tightly and Chim says: “You’re gonna be okay, kid. We’re here for you. Don’t be afraid to call.”
“Thank you. Thank you so much,” Buck tells him.
Attempting to lighten the mood, Chim smiles: “Hey, I’m just glad I could do something other than be a bad influence,” calling back to their conversation after Chris spend some time with them that first time.
Buck smiles back, still a little watery, but it’s there. He puts a hand on Chim’s shoulder and looks him in the eyes, heartfelt he says: “You are so much more than that.” Then he turns to Chris and says: “Let’s go, Superman. We have a fight to catch.”
He stops to wave at Chimney, then he disappears through the glass doors, picking up Chris to hurry through the airport. Chim hopes that Eddie truly will be okay, that Buck will come back happier, maybe even happier than before he got that call. That they’re not going to lose this happy kid that brightened the A shift of the 118 more than any of them would ever admit.
It’s a shock to their system when they don’t hear a thing from Buck for three days straight. They know he must be holed up in a hospital room somewhere, in a different city with no support system trying to be there for his son and his husband. But they had hoped he would reach out.
After those three days, it’s Hen, who he calls first. They’re all duty when her phone rings and she nearly fumbles it as she exclaims: “It’s Buck.”
The others gather around her as she picks up, a little out of breath due to the excitement and haste as she greets: “Buck? Are you okay?”
They can hear the relief and giddiness in his voice as he replies: “He woke up today.”
“Oh my god, Buck, I’m so happy for you,” Hen tells him genuinely. She might not know Eddie, but she has a wife and a child, she can imagine how Buck might feel right now, knowing that both are okay, that their family is still in tact.
“Me too,” he laughs, stress melting off of him. “I hope I’m not calling at a bad time.”
“No, no, of course not. I’m glad to hear from you. We’re on shift,” Hen says. “I have two very curious men looking at me.”
Buck chuckles at that: “Glad to know I haven’t been forgotten. It’s chaos out here. Abuela called Eddie’s parents, nearly became a full blown custody battle in the hospital hallways. They’re taking Chris for ice cream now. I’m watching them out the hospital window while Eddie rests to make sure I see it if they try to make a run for it.”
It’s obviously meant to be a joke, but Hen can hear that there is a truth in there as well. She confided in the team about her issues with Denny’s custody, another reason Buck might have called her above the others.
She puts as much affection into her voice as she can as she says: “Well, they won’t take him that easily. We have a great police Sargent who’s sleeping with our Captain and a whole slew of people who’ll vouch for your parenting.”
“Thanks, Hen.
“Of course. How’s Eddie?”
Buck lets out a long breath and she can imagine him rubbing his forehead as he answers: “Hurt, but healing, I suppose. Idiot caught three bullets, two in his arm, one in his shoulder, practically his chest if you ask me, though. Nearly bled out. They’ll discharge him in two days, then we have a flight the day after, after that it’s bed rest, then PT, before he is cleared to go look for a job. The military is paying these bills luckily. I- uhm, I’ll need to get some extra shifts when I get back, can you tell Cap?”
“You can tell him yourself if you want,” Hen offers, suddenly suspicious. Buck calling her instead of Bobby to tell them about his schedule and Eddie’s state was already a little weird, but as the fellow queer with a family, she could brush it off. Now she was scared something was up, a reason why Buck might not want to talk to Bobby.
“Uhm, I’d rather not,” Buck says hesitantly.
She sends the Captain a look, a little relieved when Bobby looks confused and a little hurt that their youngest member doesn’t seem to want to talk to him. If something happened, Bobby didn’t do it purposefully. There is no guilt, as if he knows the reason, just confusion.
“Why not? Did something happen between you two?” she asks anyway, prepared to fight Bobby should that be necessary.
“Is he- Is he mad?” Buck asks hesitantly.
Now Hen is growing more worried, she sends Bobby a look and he frowns at that, then covers the mic and walks off for some privacy as she asks: “No, he doesn’t seem mad. Why would he be mad, Buck?”
“Just tell her, cariño,” a muffled voice can be heard in the background. The first sign of the mysterious husband, Eddie, that any of them have gotten and she can’t even enjoy it, too worried about Buck.
Startled, Buck exclaims: “Eddie, what are you doing awake? You should be resting.”
Eddie’s voice sounds unbearably fond as he replies: “I can always sense when you’re worrying, amor. Just tell her, get your closure. He’s not mad.”
“And how would you know that,” Buck counters and Hen would be more offended about getting ignored if Buck’s tone isn’t a little lighter after Eddie’s words.
“Cause you couldn’t shut up about the man on our phone calls,” Eddie snorts softly.
“Oh shut up,” Buck says, before returning his attention to Hen as he says: “It’s just- I, uhm- I didn��t tell my dad about Eddie and he got real mad when he found out. Now, I know Bobby isn’t, like, my dad or anything, but he’s, you know, my boss, an authority figure and I- I’m just worried he’s mad at me. For not saying.”
Hen’s heart clenches. She knows Bobby is a father figure to Buck, but the fact that Buck conflates an authority figure with a father figure, not to mention the ‘real mad’ in combination with the lack of mention of Buck’s family (she’s not stupid, she can put one and two together), break her heart a little more.
As gently as she can, she says: “Cap would never be mad at your for that, Buck. I swear. He’s worried about you and wants your family to be okay. For a moment it seemed like he was going to rip the phone out of my hands so he could ask if you’re okay himself. You can talk to him.”
“Thank you,” Buck says in a small, vulnerable voice that doesn’t fit the confident young man she’d known. Then he adds: “But, uhm can you tell him? For now. I’ll call him later.”
“Okay, I’ll tell him, but know that he’d happy to hear from you,” Hen promises, knowing she’s not going to undo whatever happened between Buck and his parents in a singular phone call.
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Buck says in a tone that tells her the extra assurance was necessary. “I just have to go, Chris is coming back up and I want to check in with Eddie’s doctor.”
“Alright, I’ll let you go,” Hen says. “Good luck out there, reach out if you need us or just want someone to talk with, okay. Best to you and Eddie. I hope his recovery goes well. We all do.”
“Thanks, Hen. I’ll pass it along. Say hi to Cap and Chim for me,” Buck replies, before he hangs up, leaving her there with her phone in her hand, staring at her home screen.
She returns to Chim and Bobby, telling them about the call and her own theories as to why Buck might be acting the way he is. There’s a deep sympathy in both their eyes when she does, Chim has that extra bit of understanding in it that comes with being her friend and having served under Gerrard.
Buck does call Bobby at some point the next day. Something they know because Bobby stops moping when he finally does (though he denies ever moping in the first place).
It’s tía Pepa who picks them up from the airport when they do return, so they don’t see Buck until the day after he flies back, since that is when he has his first shift. It’s 48 hour one right off the bat, seems like he wasn’t joking about needing those shifts.
When he arrives to the firehouse, he moves cautiously as if he isn’t sure what to expect from his return just yet. That cautiousness melts into a grin when the 118 greets him with cheers and a cake that reads: Congrats on getting your family back together
He looks like he’ll cry as he says: “Thank you so much,” through a choked up voice, as he gets hugged by everyone.
They eat their cake, catch Buck up on the strange calls he missed and the shenanigans at the firehouse, while Buck fills them in on his own time away. It’s clearly an abridged and slightly edited version, one that is more lighthearted than going to visit your comatose husband probably is like, but they don’t call him out on it.
At some point Chimney asks: “So, how did you two meet anyway?”
Buck’s face turns into something fond, something they’ve only seen pieces off when he talks about Chris, though slightly different. “He was pulling a bullet out of my leg, telling me I was an idiot for trying to save him.”
“What?” the others choke out.
Buck gives them a surprised look, which clears up as he explains: “Oh yeah, I was a soldier for a bit, it’s how I met Eddie. Definitely not for me, but I’m glad I did it, because I wouldn’t have met the love of my life without it. He was a medic from a unit on the base I was also stationed at. I was already a little reckless back then.”
The 118 snorts at that, because yeah, they’ve noticed he still is. Though their hearts also constrict slightly retroactively at the danger their family member put himself in before they even met, protective instincts kicking in.
“Anyway,” Buck continues. “After I saved his ass and he stitched me up, we became friends. Nothing bonds like your medic telling you all about his divorce in an attempt to distract you and keep you conscious. We became friends real quick and by that I mean I bugged him every day, because Mr. Surly had no friends and I think he looks cute when he’s annoyed. We kinda had a flirty thing going on all throughout our tour and when it was done I had nowhere to go really, so Eddie invited me to his home. His ex-wife fully left, so suddenly it was us two with a toddler and we became more serious.”
He looks so very fond when he tells the story, so besotted. It’s almost crazy now to think he managed to hide that love for months.
“I worked as a farm hand and Eddie did odd jobs around town, but Chris’s medical bills started piling up and the only way for us to pay them was to do another tour,” Buck explains, very open about everything now that it’s all out there anyway. “I wanted to do it so Eddie wouldn’t be separated from Chris again, but I got injured. Firefighters got me out, actually, it’s why I decided to go to the academy when I was healed.”
They all grimace and nod, they’ve seen some nasty ranch incidents and can imagine how that might’ve seriously injured someone. They can also understand wanting to become a firefighter after seeing one in action.
“We wanted Chris to have some continuity and Eddie’s parents were talking about taking him, so we decided to get married. It was a shotgun wedding, just us and Chris at the courthouse to avoid anyone from stopping us or throwing a fit about it,” Buck shrugs, as if that isn’t kind of sad.
However, before anyone can say something, he lights up: “We’ve been talking about doing a vow renewal, which will be great. Maybe you guys can come? It’ll be nice to have family on my side of the aisle.”
“Of course we’ll come,” Hen says immediately, knowing the feeling of not having anyone there intimately from her own wedding.
Bobby and Chimney also fall over themselves to assure him they’ll be there and they can see that a little bit of insecurity disappears from Buck’s frame. They wouldn’t have noticed it without it disappearing and it’s a little worrying how okay Buck can seem, but they can’t really get into it, because Buck is thanking them with a big grin and then the alarm is going, forcing them to drop the topic.
After that they don’t really get to bring it up again, just observing this new Buck – because he is a new man, almost reborn with more happiness and less stress clinging to him – who is also less reckless and seemingly more okay.
He also doesn’t shut the fuck up about Eddie (said in the most affectionate way). Now that Eddie is home safe and he doesn’t have to worry about Eddie or the pitying looks, the dam has opened and there is a flood of affection for Eddie.
Everyone is all very curious and eager to meet the man that has stolen Buck’s heart so clearly, but since he is recovering Buck isn’t letting them. They are just starting to worry that something might be wrong, when they finally do meet him.
They’re just coming back from a call, getting out of the engine as Chimney says: “Is it just me, or is our probie getting more mature?”
“Mature, I don’t know, but definitely less reckless,” Hen counters, teasing Buck.
Buck is about to respond, already rolling his eyes, when a new voice speaks up, saying: “That’s probably because he has to justify what he did to someone other than an excitable seven year old when he comes home.”
The 118 turns in surprise, finding the voice to be attached to an attractive young man with dark brown hair and his arm in a sling. Before anyone can ask who he is, Buck answers the question for them his face lighting up as he exclaims: “Eddie!”
“Hello, cariño,” Eddie – because holy shit that’s Eddie – greets in return with a fond smile.
Buck rushes over to him, but slows before impact, gently and carefully hugging him as he breathes: “What are you doing here? Is everything okay? Is Christopher okay? How did you get here? You really shouldn’t be driving with that arm.”
Eddie lets Buck’s worries wash over him, the fond smile never leaving. “Everything is alright, cariño. Tía Pepa got sick of my restlessness, dropped me off here so she could clean the house in peace.”
“I told her I was cleaning the house,” Buck frowns. “She doesn’t have to do that.”
“Mi amor, you’ve been caring for all of us and juggling the chores. You deserve the rest, tía Pepa wanted to help,” Eddie tells him gently, sounding as if he’s repeating a conversation they’ve had multiple times before.
“That’s not true. Carla helps a lot with everything and you watch Chris so I can turn in early and you’ve been loading the dishwasher and collecting laundry – even though you really should be resting,” Buck replies.
“Tía Pepa is cleaning the house,” Eddie says definitively, not allowing Buck to argue. “You’re too late and we both know you’re not winning an argument with her. Now, please, introduce me to your coworkers, I’ve been dying to put faces to the names.”
“You really shouldn’t treat my work as your own personal telenovella,” Buck scolds, though it’s obvious he doesn’t mean it.
“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie waves it away with a big grin, making him look younger.
Chimney doesn’t hesitate in skipping forwards, eager for anyone who can give him gossip or an interesting story. “Hi, I’m Chimney. Buck didn’t tell us he was married to such a hunk of a man, what is your routine?”
“Yes, he did,” Hen says, practically pushing Chimney out of the way. “Many times and with great detail. I’m Hen.”
“Let’s not overwhelm him,” Bobby says, pulling both of his subordinates away. Then he holds out his hand to Eddie, making sure that Eddie can return the shake with the hand not in the sling as he greets: “Hello, I’m Bobby, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Eddie straightens up, obviously military, and shakes the hand firmly. “The pleasure is all mine, Captain. Thank you so much for what you did for Buck and Chris while I was gone.”
“You’re welcome, it was never an issue to do so. We’re family here, we watch out for each other,” Bobby says.
“Still, I’m grateful for what you’ve done for my family,” Eddie tells him genuinely.
Within a minute of meeting them, he has won them all over, leaving them to wonder why they were ever worried to start with.
Hen asks: “So, what are your plans now that you are stateside?”
“Healing,” Buck says pointedly, before Eddie can open his mouth to answer.
Eddie sends him a fond exasperated look and they can all perfectly picture the two of them in a desert somewhere, Buck ribbing an annoyed Eddie, who isn’t actually annoyed, but playing the part in their fond routine.
“First healing,” Eddie agrees with Buck. “Then I’m thinking of joining the academy. I’m not really made for a nine to five and Buck has won me over with all his work stories.”
“Well, I’ll fight to get you in my house,” Bobby promises. “Now, what do you think about some lunch, I was just about to get started on some lasagna.”
“Definitely not saying no to some famed Bobby Nash cooking,” Eddie grins, following the others up to the loft and seamlessly fitting in with them.
Being a single parent isn’t the easiest, but now Buck doesn’t have to do it alone anymore. His partner is back and with that the fear of loosing him is gone. Their jobs will still be dangerous, but he can have his back and prevent the alone from becoming permanent.
Today, Buck is high on life, knowing Chris is safely at school and Eddie is here right besides him, the two surrounded by family. There are only more memories to be made in the future.
#rr writing#buddie#buck x eddie#evan buckley#eddie diaz#christopher diaz#hen wilson#chimney han#bobby nash#9-1-1#9 1 1#911#911 abc#911 show#911 fox#911 tv show#9-1-1 buddie#tw: implied/referenced homophobia#tw: bad parenting#tw: military
26 notes
·
View notes
Note
It really feels to me that they brought Eddie and Christopher in specifically for Buck. They’ve completed changed his life and he has this little family who will love him forever. Their lives are so entwined, especially now after Eddie revealed he changed his will, I can’t shake the feeling that they were destined for Buck right from the start. And that’s not to say that I don’t love Eddie and Christopher as individuals too because I really do
I half agree with this. I think they almost certainly brought Eddie in as a foil for Buck. They wouldn't have focused Eddie's introductory episode on Buck's reactions to him, if Eddie's existence wasn't meant to be important to Buck's development.
See, Eddie has a lot in common with Buck compared to the rest of the team: they both fit this younger, handsome, single, male, heroic firefighter vibe. Except that where Buck is brash and reckless, Eddie is more responsible and thought out. Eddie has more...I guess adult vibes? He's a father, he has a house, he's already been married. I think when they first introduced Eddie the idea was to challenge Buck with a different version of his own archetype. Because Eddie can still be attractive and heroic, without being quite as dumb and reckless as Buck is (mostly).
So I do agree that, on some level, Eddie always existed to propel Buck's character. Obviously Ryan Guzman brought a lot more to the character than just a pretty face (which I think I read somewhere was why he was cast?) and Eddie is now a fleshed out character in his own right, outside of Buck.
But you know that meme that's like "I throw in a narrative foil--oh shit that's a love interest, I'm a genius"? That's what I think happened here. They didn't mean to write a love interest, they meant to challenge Buck, to give him a work partner, someone to bounce off of, the way Hen and Chim bounce off each other. But they did too good a job and Oliver Stark and Ryan Guzman had too much chemistry together, and here we are.
Whether or not they'll admit to writing a love story, let alone any time soon? Remains to be seen.
40 notes
·
View notes
Text
“Weʼve made a horrible mistake”, Buck says when Eddie hands him over new bottle of beer. Diaz doesnʼt even have to look up or turn around to know what Buckʼs been talking about. Or rather who.
“Youʼre absolutely right. Theyʼre up to something. Definitely nothing good”, he sighs heavily and his eyes finally land on the three women sitting on the couch and talking about something very vigorously. “They looked at me when I went to the kitchen. And now theyʼre looking at us. Again.”
“We shouldnʼt have let them meet. Like ever”, Buck agrees. He has a strong feeling that it will bite them in the ass. Very soon. In this moment, Sophia looks at them with a grin on her face and Eddie just groans.
“Theyʼre scheming. I know the look and I shouldʼve predicted this because my sisters are always meddling. Although I didnʼt expect Maddie to be so eager to join them”, he adds and thereʼs a hint of accusation in his voice.
“You clearly donʼt know her that well. Believe me, that nice girl look is just a facade. Sheʼs horrible”, Buck declares and then laughs at his friend's horrified expression.
“You mean she's even worse than you?” asks Eddie playfully after a while.
“You are so sleeping on the couch tonight, Diaz”, Buck deadpans, elbowing him lightly. Heʼs not really offended; he likes to bicker with him and theyʼre both in very good mood. Theyʼre at the party at Grant-Nash house, surrounded by friends and they can truly enjoy their night off.
“It kinda implies that weʼre sleeping together in one bed so we should work on that first. And then you can kick me off to the couch”, Eddie winks at him and grins.
They hear someoneʼs gagging (most likely to be Chim) and Henʼs muttering Lord help me from behind but they don't really pay attention to it. Theyʼre only focused on each other now, which happens fairly often when they get carried away with the flirting. Recently, it got even more shameless—and, god, they love to tease each other and make innuendos. Eddie loves how easy and natural it is—he was never a cocky playboy type and flirting wasnʼt his best skills. But with Buck... He just canʼt help himself. Not if his best friend responds the way he does.
“So...”, Eddie says and his eyes travel to Buckʼs lips who wets them unintentionally. He fights the urge to capture them with his mouth because Buckʼs his best friend and he canʼt kiss him in the room full of people. Not that he can kiss him when theyʼre alone.
Someone clears throat loudly and the tension is broken. Eddie blinks and looks around—he feels quite embarrassed because once again he let himself fantasise about Buck—and he meets Maddieʼs very knowing smirk. He hopes he doesnʼt have his feelings written all over his face and she didnʼt pick them up.
“Iʼm going to the bathroom”, announces Buck suddenly and he gets up suspiciously quickly and practically runs away to the place.
Eddie wonders if he should go after him. He wants to; heʼs not sure how it would end. He doesnʼt even have the time to decide because his sisters got up and theyʼre going in his direction.
“Whereʼs your loverboy?”, asks Sophia, nudging him softly to move a little bit to make more room for her and Adriana.
“He, uh, went to the bathroom”, Eddie rubs off his neck; he still feels embarrassed and heʼs sure that if he was pale, his cheeks would have been red as Adrianaʼs dress sheʼs wearing tonight.
“I hope he will come back quickly, I havenʼt got a chance to talk with him yet” says Adriana, “although I think Maddie will be my new favourite Buckley.”
“I wonder why”, Eddie snorts and looks around to find Buckʼs sister but thereʼs no sign of her and he suspects she went off to see her brother. “You three were plotting, werenʼt you?”
“Thatʼs very serious accusation, Eddie. Iʼd be very careful with making any. You donʼt know what can we do in revenge”. Sophiaʼs voice is amused, teasing; almost as usually. But Eddie knows Diaz women too well and he picks up something more, something he canʼt even name yet.
“We were just making friends”, adds Adriana and she shrugs her arms. “I am really glad I got to meet your coworkers. Theyʼre wonderful people. And Buck has an amazing sister.”
“Yeah, Maddieʼs great”, agrees Eddie. He realises, heʼs quite close to both of Buckley siblings—despite what Buck says—because he spends with them most of his free time. Obviously, Buckʼs his favourite but Maddie has slowly become his third sister. And Christopher adores her almost as much as her brother. Buckleys have that effect on people, he thinks with fondness. He seriously has no idea what would he do without them. Theyʼre really making his life better in many ways. He drifted away with his thoughts so he tries to focus on conversation heʼs in. “Although I wish you wouldnʼt try to convince her to join you with your evil plans.”
Both Sophia and Adriana laugh, looking at his brother with very amused, almost identical expression.
“Oh Edmundo, whereʼs your trust? Why are you always assume weʼre plotting?”, asks Sophia very innocently.
“Or that we are the oneʼs to convince Maddie to do the bad things. Have you thought maybe itʼs the other way around?”, adds Adriana.
She has a point, though, but Eddie doesnʼt want to believe them. Maddie has to be less evil than his sisters. He still hasnʼt figured out yet why were they scheming or whoʼs gonna be their next victim but he has a hunch.
Thankfully, he spots Buckʼs coming back which saves him from replying to his sisters. His best friend still looks slightly embarrassed; the tips of his ears are red and it piques Eddieʼs interest. Then, he notices Maddieʼs right behind him and she looks very pleased. Both Buckleys stop by the couch Diaz siblings are sitting at.
“Eddie, would you mind drive Buck to his apartment? Heʼs not feeling that well and I donʼt want him go alone”, Maddie asks. Buck rolls his eyes and he looks mildly irritated now.
“I donʼt feel bad”, he scoffs. “And I��m an adult, I can go back to my home alone.”
“Itʼs not a problem”, reassures him Eddie, getting up from the couch. Itʼs true; helping Buck is never a problem. Plus, itʼs very good excuse to talk to him alone. Somewhere when his sisters wouldnʼt eavesdrop. Or their coworkers. “Letʼs go. Addie, Soph, Iʼll come back and take you home too.”
“Oh, no need. Weʼll get an Uber”, Adriana says and Eddie only nods.
He goes to Bobby and Athena to say goodbye and then shoots a look in Buckʼs direction. The blonde follows him quietly and Eddie really wants to know why his mood changed that quickly.
They step outside; itʼs a warm, cloudless night—perfect for romantic dates including stargazing.
“Are you OK?”, asks Eddie when theyʼre in Eddieʼs truck. His voice is filled with concern and he tries to read his friendʼs mind but he doesnʼt even look up.
“Iʼm fine”, Buck mumbles, his eyes still focused on his knees as if there was something more interesting to observe than look into Eddieʼs eyes.
“Youʼre not. Something has happened when you went to the bathroom, I know it. Was it Maddie? Did she tell you something?”, Eddie doesnʼt buy this shit and heʼs determined to find out the truth. “Buck”, he pats his knee gently. “What did she say?”
“Itʼs—uhm—itʼs not really that awful. She...”, Buck bites his tongue but eventually, he decides to go on and he looks at Eddie. “She was just teasing me too much and I got annoyed.”
“My awful sisters probably encouraged her to annoy you a little bit”, admits Eddie and then smiles at his best friend. “At least she has let you go and now you can do whatever you want. You wanna go with me? Christopherʼs probably asleep but I have your favourite beer. And you can crash on my couch.”
Eddieʼs invitation is very spontaneous; he didnʼt plan to spend the rest of evening with Buck but if thereʼs a chance to even just watch movie with him and then go to sleep, heʼll gladly take it.
“Deal.” Buckʼs response is almost immediate and his grin is almost blinding.
—☾—
Buckley-Diaz sisters grand scheme reminds about itself when Eddie gets an invitation to his sisters in El Paso. Heʼs not the only one, though. Buck and Maddie also are invited.
“Why would they invite both me and Maddie? Maddie already said yes, she takes Joy and Chim with us”, complains Buck when theyʼre cleaning firetruck on the shift. “Anyway, are you OK with me and Maddie visiting your family?”
“Why would I be not OK with it? Itʼs not like you donʼt know them already. My parents will be thrilled to see you”, says Eddie. “And Iʼm glad youʼll be here. At least I wonʼt have to face Sophia, Adriana and Maddie alone. You have to suffer with me”, he adds and winks at his best friend.
He knows this invitation has something to do with the party at Grant-Nash house when their sisters have met. And that both Sophia and Adriana have some wicked ideas involving him and Buck probably too but he still wants Buck by his side.
“Great, so Iʼm only there to be traumatised by your sisters instead of you?”, jokes Buck and kicks Eddie in the shin.
“Ow, that hurts, Buckley!”, Eddie hisses and still smiles despite the pain.
“Quit pulling pigtails, dinnerʼs almost ready”, they hear Chimʼs voice from above and they immediately raise their heads.
“Fine, weʼre going”, sighs Eddie and waits until Chimʼs gone to look at Buck. “Seriously, Iʼm glad they invited you too. I mean, we have to be careful but I still think itʼll be nice weekend.”
—☾—
Itʼs nice indeed. Drive to El Paso was long and exhausting but theyʼve managed to survive without serious injuries (although Joy really tried to make them deaf and she only felt asleep in Buckʼs arms). Sophia and Adriana welcomed them with a huge smiles and amazing food. Theyʼve decided to put Maddie with Chim and Joy in Adrianaʼs house to sleep and Buck wouldʼve slept with Eddie and Chris in Sophiaʼs house. And now, theyʼre just hanging out. Itʼs late and all kids are already asleep (Addieʼs husband offered to take care of them, even Joy) so adults can let themselves loosen up a little bit.
“So who wants to play Truth or Dare?”, asks Sophia, nursing bottle of beer in her hands. Sheʼs already slightly drunk, just as the rest of them—minus Maddie whoʼs feeding the baby so she prefers not to have alcohol in her bloodstream.
“Oh, Iʼm definitely in”, says Chimney, raising his hand up as if he wants to make sure everyone heard him.
“And so am I. I used to play it in high school before I met Doug and I kinda forgot how to have proper fun”. Thereʼs hint of nostalgia in Maddieʼa voice but she smiles brightly anyway. Adriana says yes and Buck replies me too without even thinking.
Itʼs Eddie who hesitates. Oh, heʼs definitely having fun and he appreciates that his sisters made it happen. Itʼs just—
He noticed earlier how Maddie disappeared with his sisters and they were back after half of an hour and they kept talking in a hushed voices whenever they saw him or Buck. Which is very suspicious; not to mention that Sophia and Adriana have been teasing him about his feelings for Buck even more in the past weeks. He hasnʼt told them but theyʼre not stupid and he hasnʼt been exactly subtle when it comes to showing affection to Buck. Heʼs afraid that they might say something stupid, something that Buck will figure out. And he doesnʼt want it—heʼs okay with them being only friends—anything that doesnʼt ruin what theyʼve already built.
“Iʼll pass”, he finally says and heʼs met with five disappointed gazes. They can be disappointed now but they will forget about it as soon as they sober up, right?
“Iʼve never pegged you as a coward.”
Of course itʼs Buck who says this sentence. Eddie looks at him and regrets it. Buckʼs smirking and thereʼs challenge in his eyes. Eddie knows this look by now because itʼs not the first time Buck makes him do something stupid and reckless.
“Fine, Iʼm in”, he lets out a heavy sigh and rolls his eyes. He really needs to learn how to not take a bait from Buckley.
“Excellent!”, sings Sophia and the game begins.
—☾—
One hour later theyʼre more drunk and very, very giggly. Questions and tasks get more crazy and hilarious—but they donʼt back off and do everything with a smiles on their faces. Eddieʼs now sure he was completely wrong about the scheme until he decides to take dare instead of truth and itʼs Sophiaʼs turn to come up with the task.
“I dare you to... Kiss Buck!”
Eddie almost drops his bottle of beer. He mustʼve misheard this, right? Thereʼs no way Sophia wouldʼve done this. He looks at her and she doesnʼt shy away. “Should I repeat the dare?”, she asks instead, making very innocent face.
“No” comes out of his mouth and heʼs surprised how hoarse his voice is.
“Soph, I donʼt think this is a good idea”, he hears Buckʼs voice but he doesnʼt register the words. Then Buck turns around to face him and his eyes are filled with worry and concern but thereʼs something else. Maybe hope? Eddie doesnʼt know how to name it. “If youʼre not comfortable with it, then donʼt do it”, Buck says quietly.
“Are you? I mean, not comfortable?”, Eddie manages only to whisper. They donʼt notice that rest of their group is so quiet like theyʼre not even here. Once again theyʼre only focused on each other; somehow theyʼre so close to each other thereʼs barely a free space between them.
“I donʼt think Iʼd ever be uncomfortable with you kissing me”, Buck simply states and itʼs everything Eddie needs to hear. He closes the space between them and kisses him. Firstly, itʼs very tentative—like Eddieʼs still not sure if itʼs the things his best friend wants. But Buck isnʼt the one to chicken out. He grabs him by the collar of his shirt and brings him closer as he deepens the kiss. It quickly becomes more heated—Eddie moans softly when Buck slides his tongue into his mouth. Buck pushes him slightly to be able to straddle him and they accidentally roll over abandoned beer bottle.
They break apart laughing and they finally notice that thereʼs nobody but them in the living room.
“Uh, when did they go out?”, asks Buck and Eddieʼs in awe when he sees his disheveled hair, swollen lips and pink-tinted cheeks. Itʼs amazing look on him, he thinks.
“I donʼt care”, he says and grins mischievously. “Maybe our sisters were right to meddle because Iʼm pretty sure that was their intention.”
“Thank God they did that because you would never kiss, wouldnʼt you?”, mocks Buck but heʼs quickly silenced by another kiss.
Maybe sometimes having sisters isnʼt that bad.
Find it on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30619118
#911#evan buckley#eddie diaz#buddie#buck x eddie#buddie fic#buddie ficlet#911 fic#lucy writes#lucy's attempt to write#in this house we stan diaz sisters#buckley-diaz sisters grand scheme#i know it's dumb and silly#but hope you like it anyway#chaotic writing
37 notes
·
View notes
Text
Buck Begins Fic Recs
For @thisissirius
Here are a couple of fics that I have written. And I’ll probably add a couple of favorites that I’ve read along the way!
Nothing I Ever Did Was Good Enough
Buck bit his tongue, looking away from his father. It was too early in their get together to have a blow out. He especially didn’t want to have that blowout in front of Chim and Albert. “You know, firefighting, until recently, has had a huge amount of off duty suicides due to improper care of mental health. The department has changed to help firefighters through hard times of losing patients or families in fires by hiring departmental psychologists and having service animals available for visits to the firehouses after really tough calls. If someone isn’t in the right mindset, we could lose more people, not to mention our own people and that person. Mental health is no joke,” Albert stated. Buck had to hide is smile, but he turned to Albert, giving him a knowing look and small smile. His parents spluttered for a few seconds before Phillip turned to Albert. “I don’t think I was talking to you. Mind your own business, this was a family matter.” “Don’t talk to him like that,” Buck nearly growled. “He is family.”
~~Or the one where the parents visit and Buck is in over his head...luckily his family has his back.
~~~~Part 1 in the Nothing I Ever Did Was Good Enough series
Nothing I Ever Did-
~~~~Part 2 in the Nothing I Ever Did Was Good Enough series
"Watch your attitude, Evan," Margaret glared. "Why should I? All you've ever done is put me down and compare me to Maddie and try to make me into her. News flash, I'm my own person and I'm different! I get that nothing I ever did was good enough, but I don't have to keep trying to appease you and let you walk on me or my family. So if you could kindly drop the attitude and rude comments regarding Eddie and Christopher, it would be much appreciated. They invited you into their home and you've been nothing but assholes since you got here! Clearly you came here with opinions and baggage and a want to have your way, but that's not going to fly here. You best just head out of town tonight, you're not wanted here in my life or Maddie's life. We don't want your toxicity melting into our families because I'll be damned if the shit you've said tonight will ever affect my niece or my kid!"
~~Or the one where Eddie hosts the Buckley parents and just tries to be supportive in general...but the parents are nightmares. Featuring cuddles with Chris, Eddie, and Buck.
Not The One You Wanted
“Evan, I don’t know what you expected us to do.”
“Love me anyway,” it had been said like his heart had been ripped out...which, it felt like it had. Because that was the truth, wasn’t it...all he ever wanted was for them to love him anyway. He wanted his parents to give a damn about him but they never did...it was like he was a responsibility that they never wanted.
Maddie had said that their parents had been different back then when they were sentimental and made a box for her...and now Buck knew why. Daniel. His older brother Daniel...a brother that he didn’t even know existed until he sat down with Maddie to look at all the baby photos in the box...and there were plenty...Buck can hardly remember ever getting portraits like these done during his childhood….but his parents were different back then.
-OR- Evan Buckley deserves love and hugs because of how shitty his parents are.
*This is honestly one of my favorites that I’ve written...it’s like a character study while Buck was trapped in the warehouse with some liberties surrounding the reason Buck’s in the warehouse*
Secrets
He’d been lied to his whole life...Maddie had never thought to tell him about not being his actual sister...his parents were acting like it didn’t matter...like he should just get over it. Buck’s eyes met Chim’s...and his whole body went rigid. “You knew,” he whispered, looking directly at Chim. “You knew and you didn’t tell me?!” He rounded on his sister, “you told him, but not me?!”
“Evan, I was trying to protect you-”
“No, you don’t get to do that! You don’t get to try and protect me! I’m a grown ass adult, I deserved to know but instead of telling me, you told him and even though I’ve known him longer he still didn’t tell me!” Buck shook his head, backing from the room. “I can’t do this,” he whispered.
-OR- Buck finds out the secret Maddie's been keeping from him while his parents are visiting...he is understandably betrayed.
*Basically, Buck Begins and the Daniel scenes hadn’t happened yet and I wanted to know what the secret was, so I came up with this.*
Ambush of the Parents
Based off the new Promo (or the one I just saw) where we see Maddie, Chim, Albert, Buck and (who I believe) are Buck and Maddie’s Parents. Buck’s dad says “you’ve been seeing a therapist?” and Buck responds “Well, the job can be stressful.”
Disclaimer: Please don't read if verbal abuse from parents triggers you.
~~~~Or Buck’s parents are absolutely horrible and Buck’s family defends him.
Buck Begins
Buck always tried to please his parents. He wanted to be recognized and loved. He tried to get their approval but it was never enough. *Includes flashbacks, this was before Season 4 was even in production*
~Evan had thought that the SEALs would make his parents proud. He tried out for the SEALs, he went through training, but it still wasn’t enough. Then he’d dropped out. That had been the icing on the cake. Evan had never had a big blowout with his parents. He’d always tried to appease them. He tried to be the perfect son…but they never thought he was good enough. So when he dropped out of the SEALs, having a shouting match with his father as a consequence, he left for South America. He bartended and had fun. Then he’d gone to LA and became a firefighter and he hadn’t contacted his parents since the blowout.
Here are some fic recs that are not my own works
double vision wrapped in last night’s party clothes by amirlywritingfanficnow
"I have always been honest with you." When Eddie's voice cracks, Buck's composure almost cracks with it. "Why can't you just be honest with me?"
or
When Buck is let in on a long kept family secret, he doesn't know what to do. He almost ruins things with the one person that keeps him from feeling like he's floating away with no way to land, but it ultimately turns out okay with help of a little communication.
*This one pulled at my heart strings a little*
but i leave it in my heart, cause I don’t want to stay in the dark by neoncrayolas
Buck hadn't meant for the confession to come out like it did. He'd wanted it to be more eloquent and not so full of snot and tears.
But once it was out, there was no going back.
Or, part character study of Buck, part coda to 4x05.
*Basically, Buck isolates himself, Eddie gets worried, and Buddie is endgame
Learning to Breathe by TearsThisSideofHeaven
Boy, he thinks as the city lights blur a little in his vision, my therapist is going to have a field day with this.
*Short little fic that delves into Buck’s emotions with Eddie trying to support him
Finally Safe by WinterLioness
In the aftermath of finding out a family secret Buck finds himself going to Eddie. Christopher and Eddie use their Diaz charm to help.
*This picks up on the emotions Buck feels not only because of the family secret but because Maddie kept it from him (not full on hate, but what any normal person would need to work through) and Eddie is there to support him. Features cuddles with the Diaz Boys.
Not Related to the story line of 9-1-1 but has a whole ‘Buck Begins’ vibe because I was world building: The Life We Live
*The Old Guard AU no one asked for* "Athena had seen many a millennium and many men, women, and children die. She had seen the rise and fall of civilizations. She had felt the pain of loneliness and the happiness of community...but she’d never, in her many years of living, seen something like Eddie, Buck, and Chris. She’d never seen this profound of a bond, even between herself and Bobby. After Buck lost Abby and, later, Ali, Athena wasn’t sure he would have let his heart reach out to another person that he could lose...but she was proud of him. He built something that was hard to come by in their way of living. He built a home."
*I’m really proud of this one, it turned out well*
Not Related to the Story Line of 9-1-1, Fics by others!
Please Don’t Say You Love Me (because I might not say it back) by Queerfeministdork
"Say I love you loud, and say I love you often. It was an easy sentiment, and it was a beautiful background picture. But something clenched tightly in Buck’s chest when he saw it flash open as he handed Hen her phone. Because he knew it was a simple thing for most people, that most people could just let those three little words slip out without a care. But he couldn’t. They always got caught in his throat, stuck behind his chest. Tamped down before he could think to breathe them out."
Buck always wished he could just say the words. Turns out, maybe people just know.
*Basically, Buck can’t say ‘I Love You’ as easily as everyone else and panics about it...but eventually, everyone understands.
everything is blue by amirlywritingfanficnow
When Evan Buckley is ten, he discovers nail polish.
-
In which Buck paints his nails, Eddie is flustered, and May is a matchmaker.
*Basically Buck and Eddie saying fuck toxic masculinity. Buck enjoying painting his nails and Eddie is definitely in love with him.
Coming Home To You by kariberri13
The 118 want to know more about Buck, but the man won't give them many details. That is until the biggest detail walks through the station's bay doors.
*Not focused on his past, but a different story focusing on the fact that Buck is married to Eddie and has a kid that he didn’t tell the Fire fam about.
There are tons more, but this is what I could think of off the top of my head!
Hope you like them!
#buck begins fic recs#buck begins#fanfiction writing#9-1-1#evan buckley#buddie#evan buckley x eddie diaz#eddie diaz#christopher diaz#the buckley parents#fic recs#for thisisserious#longish post
51 notes
·
View notes
Text
9-1-1 4x04 Reaction
Spoilers under the cut
Buddie for comfort:
Saving the parents for last because jesus fucking christ that’s a rant, and also, I’m functioning on very little sleep so this may be completely disjointed and rambly:
I am in love with Buck and Eddie trying to solve the crime together and I wish they would re-film that scene without face masks
Because they so would be into true crime, like Eddie pretends to be cool but he’s a secret nerd, and he loves to nerd out with Buck, so it makes total sense that they watch crime documentaries together like COME ON
I’m incorporating this into a fic somehow
May Grant the 911 operator 🔥🔥🔥
Gratuitous shirtlessness in the form of Albert and Chimney, thank you very much 911
Albert fucking RUNNING AWAY FROM CHIMNEY 10/10 comedy
And then Chimney RUNNING AWAY FROM THE REST OF THE TEAM 10/10 comedy as well
Albert throwing a whole wheel of brie into the oven? Like just throwing it in there? Literally just throwing it in there
I don’t know why they added that in but I’m not mad at it
Chimney making friends with the mad bomber after the preview was like “IS CHIMNEY GONNA DIE????” no he’s gonna make a new friend and then brain him with an oxygen tank duh
Well, I guess it’s about that time to talk about the worst parents in the show, so here we go:
Some of this is gonna be speculation because obviously we don’t know how this all played out, but we can make some guesses. My theory is that Daniel the dead brother died... perhaps saving Buck when he was only very little, hence Buck not remembering it, and his parents... asking Maddie not to tell him?
What even the FUCK though
Why would you ask your NINE YEAR OLD DAUGHTER TO LIE TO HER LITTLE BROTHER ABOUT THEIR OTHER BROTHER WHO DIED
And how the hell do you cover something like that up? Did they simply move away from friends and family so no one would ever talk about it? Did they box up all the pictures and memories and everything and just... fucking... MOVE ON? Or not move on, because they have obviously never forgiven Buck for whatever the hell happened.
Okay, this is my speculation:
The parents are somehow responsible - for example, an accidental drowning (I don’t think this is what happened, this is just an example). So hypothetically, they’re at the beach, and Buck is a toddler, and the parents aren’t paying attention and he wanders into the sea and gets swept out; Daniel comes to his rescue and dies in the act of saving him (this thing happens in Australia all the time, hence why I’m using it as an example - swim between the flags, gang!).
So then you have the parents who are ultimately responsible for not paying attention, you have the unavoidable tragedy of one of the children dying, and the way they coped with this terrible tragedy was to place the blame on Buck (even though it wasn’t his fault, at all) and pretend that Daniel had simply never existed.
This means that Buck spends his life living in the shadow of the older brother who was glorified, who died saving him, and Buck has no idea why he can never please his parents and why they don’t love him. This is why they’re checked out as parents, because one of their kids died, and instead of seeking therapy, they decided to live a lie and blame their son for something he had no fucking control over.
So setting all that aside, let’s talk about these two absolute fucking pieces of shit.
They’ve alienated their children so much that both of them are absolutely terrified when they turn up. Buck is petrified. He’s spent his whole life never living up to their expectations, never feeling good enough, or worthy enough, constantly being put down - no wonder he ran away to California to put some distance between them. And he’s finally in a good place, going through therapy, dealing with his issues, and now bam - his parents are back in town to screw up all of his hard work.
And Maddie’s just as freaked out, because she’s trying to protect Buck from them. I feel like she has good intentions but her mistake is wanting Buck to have a relationship with people who don’t necessarily want to have a relationship with him, and for telling them about him being in therapy (which I still don’t understand, but I guess maybe the next episode will reveal the answer). To be clear, I don’t think Maddie is wrong for having kept this secret. She was manipulated into it by her parents when she was only a child, and that is not her fault, at all. She’s been told she’s doing the right thing and she hasn’t questioned it, but now, she is.
And, importantly - if her parents were checked out mentally and emotionally, she had to do a lot of the heavy-lifting and parenting when it came to Buck, when she was just a little girl herself. Maddie is the reason Buck is as wonderful as he is - she raised him.
Now, back to the pieces of shit:
They didn’t like Doug, so they washed their hands of Maddie, even though they lived in the same fucking town. So she was getting beaten up by her absolute monster of a husband, and ending up in hospital, and they were doing fucking nothing to intervene or help her.
THEY DIDN’T EVEN GO TO HER WEDDING. THEY SHOWED HER NO SUPPORT AT ALL. LIKE I CANNOT. All because they DISAGREED? SHE’S STILL YOUR DAUGHTER, like oh my god, I can’t even.
She had to flee across the country to Buck in California to finally escape him, because their parents didn’t care enough to help. Motherfuckers.
And then the whole “we don’t do hospitals” - bitch, they are your fucking CHILDREN. If your CHILDREN are in hospital, you are supposed to CARE. Buck got crushed by a ladder truck, he had an embolism and nearly died, he went through a tsunami and NOTHING? Nada? Maddie had to kill her husband after he nearly killed her, and NOTHING? Buck had to call to tell them what had happened!
And then to start crying and asking "I don’t know what you expected us to do?” - like, bitch, FUCKING ANYTHING?
I mean
I cannot with these people
What kind of white WASP-y nonsense is this
Let me tell the story of when I had appendicitis - I was taken to the hospital by my friend at night, my mum lives two hours away - when she found out that it was appendicitis and I’d be going in for surgery, she jumped in the car in the middle of the night and drove two hours to be with me, and I was a grown-ass woman at the time. It is not normal for parents not to care when their children are sick/injured/being beaten almost to death by their abusive husbands/getting crushed by a ladder truck. You mean to tell me that the footage of the crowd lifting the truck off their son didn’t go viral? That they didn’t see that?
Fuckers.
You don’t like something so you just bury your head in the sand and pretend it doesn’t exist? Your kids aren’t perfect so you just wash your hands of them? Their problems don’t matter, not when it’s all about you?
Narcissists.
Blaming the kids for everything, manipulating Maddie into doing their bidding - and still manipulating her as an adult, by bringing her gifts and driving across the country and being all, “we want to be grandparents!” after everything? After letting her husband nearly kill her and blaming her for having bad taste in men? FUCKKKKKK
And the fucking BABY BOX. Do not even get me started on how ANGRY I WAS.
Like, I have friends with kids (I have cats, personally) so I know that they’re busy, but to not have anything, as if he’s just not worth it.
Like I can’t
It breaks my heart to think about his face, and the realisation setting in... to know that your parents don’t love you? To have lived with that your whole life? It’s so fucking gutting.
Like, obviously I am extra emotional because I’m running on empty today, but god damn this episode just came along and punched me right in the face.
Also, I’m making a BIG CALL, they’re going to use the song ‘Daniel’ by Elton John in the next episode:
Daniel my brother you are older than me Do you still feel the pain of the scars that won't heal? Your eyes have died, but you see more than I Daniel you're a star in the face of the sky
100% they’re using that song, I’m calling it now, and if they don’t, it is a wasted opportunity.
Okay, let’s end on a good note, because this has been a rant:
Eddie’s open concern for Buck; the fact that Buck tells Eddie about his therapy, that he feels comfortable opening up to him - that Eddie was there, watching Buck beat the shit out of the boxing bag and listening to him, and taking his side and reassuring him... that is next level shit and I am here for it.
I am not here for the return of Ana in the next few episodes but that’s a future rant
Hopes for Buck Begins:
That the firefam - his real family - will rally around him, and that Buck and Maddie will take a united stand against their parents and tell them to get the fuck out of their lives.
Also I kinda want Bobby to meet the Buckley’s? Just... for him to be horrified, I guess? I don’t know, but I want Bobby to meet them and understand how awful they are and offer Buck some comfort as his surrogate father.
I would like Buck to be hugged by someone who loves him, please, because he needs it.
And selfishly, I want some kind of Buck, Eddie and Christopher scene, because they are also his family. Everyone in this show has their little family unit, and Eddie and Christopher are Buck’s.
Ana be damned
#911 reaction#911 spoilers#911 season 4#a rant to end all rants#i have a lot of feelings about how awful the buckley parents are#and i ranted about them in here
38 notes
·
View notes
Text
Ephemera Week (2002)
It’s still ephemera week, and we’re still talking about John K. I said most of my piece on him in the last post, so don’t expect there to go full bore on this one, except I forgot to say he’s animation’s Jerry Lewis. His current stuff is basically Hardly Working. I will not elaborate, because I’m being mean to you0.
MARCH SPECIALS!
In March, Adult Swim advertised a run of one-off specials. A couple of them were already covered because they fell under the parameters of “Adult Swim original production”. They were Welcome to Eltingville (March 3rd) and Saddle Rash (March 24th).
Day in the Life of Ranger Smith | March 10th 2002 - 11:00 PM (Originally aired on Cartoon Network in 1999)
This was one of two specials commissioned by Cartoon Network re-imagining Yogi Bear. The artist what took this assignment was John K, who I REEEAALLY skewered in last night’s post, didn’t I?
This is about Ranger Smith harassing animals and writing them up for violating park rules, basically. It’s short! I remember liking it at the time! Okay, maybe I’m going crazy here, but I distinctly remembered a part at the end where Ranger Smith is in bed and he solemnly confides in the viewer that the noises of wilderness give him nightmares and then it just ends. Did I imagine this? It does end with him in bed, but this doesn’t happen in the version on YouTube (which is from the Adult Swim airing). Huh.
Boo Boo Runs Wild | March 10th 2002 - 11:15PM (Originally aired on Cartoon Network in 1999)
Boo Boo Runs Wild was another one of these stand-alone Yogi Bear John K specials. This one was 30 minutes long. The Ranger Smith short was a brief 7 minutes; I’m guessing they aired a couple Capt. Lingers or something to fill time.
This one is about Boo Boo reverting to his feral nature and causing BIIIIG problems! This special would later go on to be kind of a weird trolling thing Adult Swim would do where they aired it every Sunday for a few months, even promoting regularly. This was like 2006, I think? They’d also air it as part of April Fools. Is that Adult Swim admitting this special sorta sucks? Does it sorta suck? Again, I liked these at the time and REFUSED to actively rewatch these for this write-up. Sorry.
The Jetsons: Father and Son Day/The Best Son | March 10th, 2002 11:45PM (Originally aired on CartoonNetwork.com in 2001) Our John K rock block ends with a pair of Jetsons shorts, Father and Son Day and The Best Son respectively. This is kinda the same deal as his Yogi Bear shorts, but these were exclusive for Cartoon Network’s website. I remember watching them on there. They are as bad as you’d expect late-period John K internet shorts to be, though the second short is a superior version of Spielberg’s A.I. (in that it’s shorter).
Night of the Living Doo | March 17th, 2002 - 11:00PM (originally aired on Cartoon Network, 2001)
Night of the Living Doo originally aired as wraparound segments during a Halloween Scooby Doo marathon on Cartoon Network. It’s kinda like an episode of the Scooby Doo Movies, which shoehorned in a guest star each episode. Suddenly my man Dick Van Dyke be running a carnival and shit. That’s the Scooby Doo Movies. At the end of the night they played all the wraparound segments in one uninterrupted sitting, so the viewer could appreciate it as an actual full-on Scooby Doo episode. Night of the Living Doo functioned both as an extension of that series as well as a parody. The guests were Gary Coleman, David Cross, and the very cool band Big Bad Voodoo Daddy. It was all very self-deprecating and had jokes about the absurdity of Scooby Doo tropes. Well trod territory by this point, sure. But this is better than most irreverent Scooby Doo things. It didn’t hurt that I was a HUGE David Cross fan when this aired. Is this where I tell the stupid-ass story about getting mad at a message board guy for not liking David Cross? Sure. Okay, yeah. When this aired on Adult Swim a guy on Kon’s (hi Kon) message board posted something about not finding David Cross funny, shrugging that he didn’t get the hype. He cited this and his appearances in the Men in Black movies, and nothing else as proof for his lackluster comedy skills. It’s kinda like deeming Eddie Murphy as a bad comedian after watching Dr. Doolittle.
The point of this special is that David Cross is a little wooden and stilted, like in the old Scooby Doo Movies episodes. This poster revealed that he never heard David Cross’s stand-up or seen Mr. Show, explaining “I don’t watch puppet shows” A response that still baffles me to this day. Why Mr. Show isn’t a-- WHAT IS HE TALKING ABOUT? I’m not even sure if there was EVER a puppet on Mr. Show*. David wasn’t even a guest on Crank Yankers at this point! SO WHAT THE FUCK? To this day whenever mutual pals from that board get together and watch a movie or show and a puppet appears we make a joke about this guy. Good story? No? Fuck you.
Other stuff about this show: When it originally aired on Cartoon Network it was a little bit longer than the Adult Swim version. There’s a missing scene. I think it’s David trying to play an improv game with a mummy or something. At one point I had it on tape, but I’m not sure I kept it. Sorry.
*sorry to be coy here, but I do know of at least one puppet on Mr. Show, episode 204 there is brief footage of Grass Valley Greg putting on a puppet show for his staff. This CAN’T be the source of the confusion, can it? It’s literally like, 5 seconds.
MAIL BAG
This’ll teach me to skip a day cuz this really piled up. Thanks, guys. I love all the attention. It is my favorite thing.
I never really saw oblongs as something for the hot topic set. They had Invader Zim and Squee for that kind of shit. Oblongs feel like it was always directly targeting me: the shut-in comedy nerd who would appreciate will ferrell and the sklars being in a thing. Since they ended up doing the exact same show with Janeane Garofalo and David Cross a few years later it seems like that was the goal.
Yeah, I guess that also makes sense. There were a few elements that were kinda gothy but this show was mostly just Angus Oblong ahem, clowning around (puckering mouth to stifle laughter like Chris Elliott in Cabin Boy)
What are your thoughts on the other adult animation blocks of the past couple decades? Spike's notriously failed attempt. Animation Domination. Apparently Syfy has had their own going?
Spike was irredeemably bad. People think this shit is easy. Animation Domination is sorta legit, but it’s anchored by mostly crap. That ADHD thing was kinda good and underrated. Is that still going on? I wish I were more diligent about watching/recording that. Some of them bumpers were good. Also, we mustn’t forget MTV’s oddities. They were kinda the first cable network to court Adult Animation as their thing. They deserve some kind of credit for that. I’m sure they’re doing fine.
I'm having a nice big thing of spaghetti for dinner with some chicken parm? Jealous?
I’ve never had those are they good
What does Ephemera mean? Why is this happenening? Why aren't you talking about 10 Home Movies episodes in a row like a good boy.
In dude time, my friend. In dude time
What would be your Adult Swim dream come true?
Having a complete archive of Adult Swim blocks on a harddrive like Don Giller has with his Letterman archive. Even the commercials and shit. I know of a guy who was a regular taper of the entire block from night 1 but I’m not sure he kept up with it when they went nightly. I should ask him if he still has his tapes, huh?
That or they bring back the BUILD YOUR OWN DVD thing but with blu-rays and you can make your own bumps, which was a different thing they had. THEY SHOULD COMBINE THEM. And you can master it in SD if you wanna put 10 hours of stuff on a disk.
All this is archival bullshit dork shit. Real answer: Clay Croker comes back from the dead and every block is hosted by Space Ghost. That’d be it, right?
If anyone has genuine/better answers please write in with them I wanna keep this conversation going. ‘kay?
McDonalds reintroduces limited edition Adult Swim Toys. You can get them all (plus an extra to keep wrapped for collectors purposes) but you have to spend 20 dollars at McDonalds to grab them all. This is the last day of the promotion. You have to personally eat everything you buy but you can take it home. You can only buy one of each food item. What are you getting? I know the longer the mailbag message is the quicker you are inclined to give some glib remark but indulge this one for once.
Oh wow. I’m literally going to take this seriously. I’d roll in as breakfast was ending. Get myself a McChicken Biscuit and a Bacon Egg & Cheese McGriddle, hashbrowns and a Coffee. Gobble that knob on down. Wipe my mouth with a napkin. It’s lunchtime, bitch. Big Mac, Large Fries, BIG ass soda. You feel me, dude? Lemme tally up. Okay, probably need more. 20 piece nugget. Take that home cuz I’m probably gonna have to save some for dinner. That’s probably 20 bucks right there, especially if you go to the McDonalds on Burnside where all the menu items are more expensive because of the amount of security they have to hire (did you know that different McDonalds have different prices even in the same city? I didn’t until very recently). If this somehow doesn’t satisfy my price point I get a Vanilla shake and eat it anally DURING my BIG D squirt sesh, so it’ll spend as little time in my body as possible. Wait, do I get something for this? I might do this tomorrow just cuz. It sounds like a funky thing to do
Do you think you'll open an Adult Swim mueseum at some point? You seem to be the only steward of its history.
Unless I’m hired to by a large corporation, probably not. Also I don’t think I actually have much in the way of merch other than DVDs. I stopped being a DVD completist at some point around Freaknick The Musical. Oh, I never EVER bought a Robot Chicken DVD, EVER. I literally had a nightmare once that one appeared in my collection.
Hey! Please keep us abreast any time you put more of your garbage on eBay. Maybe you can put your wedding dress on there, you big girl.
Fucking sexist/trasphobic behavior.
Check out my eBay auctions I got season 18 of NCIS up there and some other things :)
The Ripping Friends blow chunks. I don't care if a rapist or the opposite of a rapist (a virgin who volunteers, lol) made it. It sucks a high hard one like when Ozzy banged the Cheiftan's Wife in that Black Sabbath TV Funhouse cartoon. Tell me more.
Tell you more?
Name one rap song you tolerate lol. You can't say anything by weird al or marky mark.
I guess I like the song the pest sings from the motion picture The Pest
Are there any good podcasts on adult swim?
The official one hosted by Matt Harrigan is good, but I’ve only bounced around on it. I don’t know if there’s any formal recap ones. I simply don’t know!
HE'S GIVING HIGH HARD ONE TO CHEIFTAN'S WIFE? UH OH!
Buddy, you are BANNED for LIFE from my MAIL BAG! You drive me CRAZY!
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
9-1-1 S4 Ep4 Thoughts *Spoilers*
Thoughts are under the cut :)
- I’m so excited and scared to find out what the Buckley secret is.
- ARMED HOOLIGANS… ma’am being sprayed with water— MAY POPPING OFF WITH THE CODES WHAT A QUEEN. wait what the hell just happened—
- BUCK AND EDDIE ARE TOTALLY THAT COUPLE WHO WATCH MURDER MYSTERIES TOGETHER TO FIGURE OUT WHODUNNIT
- But Chim acting weird around Buck… what could he have found out asdfgjkl;
- Buck calling him and Maddie a united front 🥺🥺 saying that she cannot leave his side.
- LMAOOOOOO ALBERT FUCKING TAKES OFF. My mom and I are giggling to ourselves
- THE 118 FAHSDJFAKS. The way he goes down the pole lmao.
- May and Michael 🥺🥺🥺 Healthy family bonds ahhhh
- GOD no wonder she was murdered. NOT HER TRYING TO MURDER THEIR DOG. It ain’t that serious ma. I love those suburb mystery episodes.
- Buck taking in deep breaths aw my poor baby. Why do the Buckley parens care about nicknames lol like??
- … the way his parents don’t seem to care about him whatsoever literally I am 🤬🤬🤬
- CHIM LEAVING IMMEDIATELY. Also “is everything alright?” that’s what a therapist is for
- the second the flour came into play on that woman I just KNEW it was gonna be her lol
-May confiding in Cap PLEASE
- CONGRATULATIONS GRADUATE AHHHHHHH. It has her name 🥺🥺🥺
- WAIT I FORGOT ABOUT THE BOMB ASPECT OF THE EP-
- “You shouldn’t be doing that.” Gathering all the information you can??
- Eddie discreetly telling Chim he knows and that he’ll tell Cap. King sit!
- Chim really telling this bomber about Buck’s family secret fhajkdfk also I love them paralleling the conversations it’s something 9-1-1 does fantastically
- CHIM GOING IN FOR THE HIT DAMNNNNNNN KING SHIT!!!!! what a legend
- STAN CALLING OUT BUCK AND EVERYONE ASKING CHIM ABOUT IT
- Hen not wanting to be a part of it 🥺🥺
- Even though no one can hear her, Athena saying “like a damned cat” lolol
- SHE SHOT HERSELF… BECAUSE OF A DOG… damn that sucks bro lmao
- “From what you hear?” BITCH BUCK LOOKS SO SAD I JUST WANNA GIVE HIM A HUG. “Cause you could’ve come.” Buck looking between his mom and Maddie, knowing they’re keeping something.
- “When do I get mine.” BUCK 😭😭😭
- “Yeah, people make mistakes. Doesn’t mean you give up on them.” !!!!!!
- Buck going off is something that’s been long needed we love to see it.
- “And you wanna know why I am really in therapy? It’s because I have spent my entire life feeling like a constant disappointment.” 😭😭
- “We were supposed to? We were kids!” A lot of adults make their (usually oldest) kid(s) out to be an adult when their not and in my family that is absolutely prevalent and it SUCKS. I’m a 22 year old adult who knows I have to grow up but because I’ve been taking care of everyone, I still act like a teenager. This hits so fucking hard rn
- “Love me anyway.” the way his voice broke a bit bye 😭😭
- What are these sounds Buck is making… but also Eddie being right there and knowing exactly what he’s doing because he did the same yup yup
- “Two dinners and I am back to being a 12 year old trapped between my sister and my parents… and now? Planning my awkward apology.” APOLOGY FOR WHAT?? SPEAKING YOUR FEELINGS? YOU DON’T NEED TO APOLOGIZE FOR THEM BEING BAD PARENTS TO YOU AND MADDIE BUCK 🥺🥺
- “What do you have to apologize for? Did you say something that wasn’t true?” Okay yes perfect response but also you know he’s a good dad as well because he listens and says these kinds of things… did that make any sense??
- “I’ve been down that road. I don’t recommend it.” !!!!!!!
- “Can’t imagine why.” THE WAY HE SAID IT LOL
- THE 9-1-1 CUPCAKES AWW
- Daniel Buckley. “He was our brother” 😭😭 but like why keep that from Buck?
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
partners
i didn't know what i was doing when i started writing this, but something still came out, so i thought i'd share it with you guys. pls gimme ur thots i’m a needy hoe <3 (ps. what does the title have to do with the story? you tell me. i hate that i have to title things. thanks for understanding lmao)
a huge thank you to @theseventeenstairs for being the sweetest and offering me nothing but kindness.
3.3k words / fluff and buck being a dummy / buck-centric / read on ao3
-
The idea comes to him on a Monday. He’ll never forget it, because Ms. Flores is the one to put it in his head.
He’s picking up Chris when she says, smiling:
“You know, for a while I thought you and Edmundo were together,” she twirls her hair around a finger, and Buck can’t help but think, wow, she really is pretty. Why isn’t Eddie tapping that? and then he promptly deletes the thought because, one, that’s just awful and he isn’t like that anymore, and, two, well. He doesn’t want Eddie to be doing that, so…
He smiles back at her, one hand on Christopher’s shoulder, a backpack in his other hand. “Yeah, well...” he says, and waves, tugging Chris along.
Did he intentionally not give her anything? Yes. She gave him a lot, though.
He can’t stop thinking about it.
-
He needs to talk.
Eddie is, obviously, not an option.
Chimney is, obviously, not an option.
Hen has his best intentions at heart, and he knows it, but he’s not sure what he needs out of this conversation, so he doesn’t trust her not just to give him what he wants instead of what he needs.
Maddie will help, always. First, though, she’ll make fun of him and he’s not entirely sure she won’t bring Chim into the mix.
Bobby is the responsible adult figure in Buck’s life, and it comes with Athena benefits. He invites himself to dinner, and is working on an excuse to stay a little longer than usual, but as soon as dinner’s over, Harry’s off into his bedroom, and Buck laughs. Pre-teens. He’s not looking forward to when Chris becomes one.
“Out with it, Buck,” Athena says. “You know we love you, and we’ll have you whenever, but something’s happening, so talk to us.”
He sighs.
“I. I, uh, I love Eddie?” It sounds like a question, he knows, and he grimaces. Ugh, this is so awkward.
“Sweetheart,” Athena says, voice soft, “I don’t know how to put this kindly, because you sure look like something’s happening inside, but, um… We know.”
“Is there something else you need to say? You can open up, we’re not going to judge you,” Bobby adds, and Buck loves them.
“Yeah. Yeah, I need to talk.”
-
He feels better after talking about it, even if just a little. Sure, he’s not ready to do anything about it just yet, but having some of the weight off his shoulders is a huge help.
Christopher tugs at his sleeve. “Bucky, Elsa is about to freeze! Pay attention,” he stage-whispers, and Buck can’t help a chuckle.
“Sorry, bud,” he whispers back, settling more into the couch, feeling Chris pressed into his side, sandwiched between him and Eddie.
Interesting things are happening in the magic forest, but more important things are unravelling inside of Buck’s mind. Like, how he can’t see himself anywhere but here. How it’s a perfectly fine Saturday evening and he’s at Eddie’s house, watching a kid’s movie with a ten year old, and there’s nowhere else he’d rather be. How he made dinner, and then the dishes, in a house that isn’t his, but feels more like home than anywhere else he can think of. How maybe he’ll put Chris to bed, or maybe he won’t, and it doesn’t matter, because other evenings will come where he will put Christopher to bed. How he’s wearing his sweatpants, but Eddie’s shirt, because at this point his clothes have moved, and he doesn’t know how, but at some point half of his wardrobe made its way to Eddie’s bedroom drawers. How he has a designated side on Eddie’s bed, because there’s only so much couch-sleeping one can take before just moving to the bed, and Eddie hates the wall. How they’re sitting on the couch, Eddie’s hand just barely touching the back of his neck where his arm is stretched along the back of the couch, and how he’s wishing Eddie would rest the full weight of his hand on Buck’s body.
He could never be anywhere but here, and that he once thought otherwise is equal parts dumb and hilarious.
“Hey. Are you alright?” Eddie asks, once they’re alone.
(Christopher put himself to bed tonight, which is… new. He still requested Eddie read him two chapters of his book, instead of just the one, per it being weekend rules.)
“What you mean?”
“You seem, I dunno. Far away.”
Buck shrugs, takes a swig of his beer. “Frozen 2 is an excellent movie and I’ve been deep in thought. Was kinda hoping they’d give Elsa a gee-eff, though, not gonna lie.”
Eddie snorts. “Ain’t you a funny one?”
“You know it!” Buck replies with an exaggerated wink and a million-dollar smile.
They settle on some dumb, definitely not PG-13 movie, and pretend to watch it, side by side on the couch, until Eddie turns suddenly to face Buck and blurts out:
“No, seriously, what’s going on?”
Buck stares right back, hard. “I don’t know, man, what do you mean?”
“I don’t know, Buck, you just, I don’t know, you seem odd.” A beat. “For a while, actually.” Eddie sounds unsure and Buck’s ready to give, but then he adds the rest and Buck feels himself getting on the road to get angry.
He shakes his head. “You can’t say I’ve been odd for a while and say ‘I don’t know’ with it. What. The fuck. Do you mean?”
Eddie looks surprised. “Hey. Slow down, man, I just wanna talk.”
“Then talk.”
“I’m trying, Buck, but -”
“Don’t just say I’m odd and then expect me to say shit.”
“Jesus, Buck, what’s going on, man? Did I do something?”
And… Isn’t that a wake up call?
Sure, his emotions are a mess, but that doesn’t mean he gets to take stuff out on Eddie, who is, literally, the one person who will be most affected when Buck comes clean with this whole thing.
Buck takes a deep breath, closes his eyes. When he opens them again, he looks Eddie in the eyes, and hopes Eddie can see the honesty in them.
“I’m sorry, Eddie. You’re right. It’s just… I’m. Um. Listen, I should go home. I’ve got a cleaning crew coming tomorrow, I should -”
“Don’t they have a key for that?”
“I, uh, yeah, actually, but I got a new rug I need them to be careful with. We’ll talk…?” He trails off at the end, not sure where he was going with it.
He moves around the house he knows so well. Stops by Chris’ bedroom to drop him one last kiss. Eddie doesn’t follow him as he moves around the house; stands in the middle of the living room, where they were arguing, and stays there, quiet, until Buck crosses him towards the front door.
“Text me when you get there,” he says before Buck leaves, because, fight or no fight, they still worry about each other, always.
Buck lets out a sigh of relief. He was hoping Eddie would still say that.
“Yeah, of course. Good night, Eddie.”
Driving back to his apartment doesn’t make him feel any better. It is, in fact, doing the opposite, and he feels awful.
He’s emotionally constipated, and he knows it, but it never quite led to the mess it did tonight. How come he’s in love with Eddie and still lashing out at him? Nothing makes sense and thinking makes his head throb, so he throws himself on his (lonely, cold, empty) bed, and wishes for tomorrow to come quick, so that this day can be over already.
hey made it see ya tmrw for chris’ friends’ bday i got the present sorry forgot 2 tell ya night eds 😘
He falls asleep before Eddie answers.
-
At first, he can tell Eddie’s trying.
Eddie’s doing his absolute best to pretend nothing’s bothering him when he picks Buck up, when he says good morning, when he hands Chris the present he bought for Chris’ friend. Eddie’s avoiding his eyes, sure, but that’s Buck’s punishment, he guesses, and so he’ll take it.
But then, slowly, things sort themselves out. Each passing minute makes Eddie a little less upset, and a little more open to being around Buck, accepting that maybe whatever outburst happened last night was just a one-off thing. Buck’s thankful, not for the first time and shamelessly so, that Eddie is just as emotionally messed up as Buck is; as long as things get back to their usual, he doesn’t fuss too much.
They have a good day.
Sarah’s mom is a great host. She makes sure Eddie eats cake, and is not at all covert about the way she keeps her left hand in plain sight at all times, or about the way she searches Eddie’s hands in search of any kind of ring. (At which point, Buck has to excuse himself, because there’s only so much a guy can take. When he comes back, Eddie looks up at him through his lashes, and grins not-at-all-subtle at him, and Buck has to look away, heart skipping several beats.)
He needs to do something about it, or he’ll lose his mind.
-
Buck pokes his head into Bobby’s office, knocking more as a way of announcing himself than of asking if he can actually come in. “Hey, got a minute?”
It’s a slow day -- Hen’s working out, Chim and Eddie are taking a nap, and Buck knows he won’t get another moment quiet and alone with Bobby like this for a while, so he takes it.
“Of course, Buck, do come in.”
Buck snorts, plopping down on the chair.
“I need help,” he announces after a minute of sitting there silent.
“I’ll be glad to help if I can. What do you need?”
He clicks his tongue, unsure of how to say exactly what he’s feeling, unsure if he even knows how he’s feeling. He runs a hand over his face, into his hair, back down.
“I just. Look, I love him. I need to do something about it or I’m gonna go insane!”
Bobby is looking at him intently, a sympathetic look Buck doesn’t really love. He must look miserable for Bobby to be looking at him like that.
“Listen, Buckaroo, you just need to do it. I know you’re nervous but -” he’s interrupted by Buck’s phone. He glances down to see a couple of texts from Eddie, and he can’t help his smile as he types his response.
Where are you I thought you were gonna take a nap too
couldnt fall asleep sry bobby’s office
“...That Eddie?”
What for
“Yup,” he says, popping the p.
just talking
Bobby shakes his head, clear amusement in his eyes.
“As I was saying, Mister Buckley, you just need to do it. I know it’s scary, I promise I do, but it’s going to consume you until you come out with it. Think about it, really, and not just in general terms. Think about what you want to do, how you want to do it. You know we’ll be here for you. I’ll be here for you, whatever happens.”
You should come take a nap while it’s quiet You’ll be exhausted later Chris already picked tonight’s movie LOL
yeah ur right ayyy what did he pick wait nvm be down in a min tell me when i get there
Buck nods, full attention on Bobby even if Eddie is waiting for him downstairs.
“Yeah, I’ll think about it. I mean, I think I have an idea, but we’ll keep thinking.”
“As long as you’re comfortable, take your time.”
“Thanks, Bobby. Really.”
Bobby smiles at him, small and pleased. “Anytime, Buckaroo. You know the door’s always open for you. Now go before he comes to get you.”
-
how do u feel abt a bbq
Why and when
no reason just think we havent done anything cool lately nothing that we looked forward to
Should I be offended????
what??? no!!!
I’m kidding LOL
man you suck but anyway i was thinking we could do a bbq at ur place what w the backyard and all we could have pepa and abuela ur cousins the 118 the kids make it an actual event u feel
Sure That sounds pretty nice, actually Got a date in mind?
yeah actually we all got 1st wknd june off that ok?
Yup, nothing on my calendar Just checked
great!! that saturday then
It’s a date Christopher will be so excited when I tell him
gosh i hope dw i’ll figure out something for the kids actually dont worry abt shit let me take care of this
Be my guest LOL
-
Shopping for the barbecue is exciting, and Buck can forget, for a little bit, that he’s doing this as a way to give himself the courage to take the step that will either make or break them. So he shops, and he buys a lot. He buys enough food to feed way more people than the twenty that’ll be attending, and he buys enough games and activity books that the six children will be entertained for days on end. He just wants it to be a perfect day and for the people in his life to have a good time. That’s all.
He buys one extra thing. It takes an entire afternoon, and he keeps it safe and away from his eyes until he’s ready to think about it.
-
The house is packed with everyone they love. The 118 is here, Maddie, Abuela, Pepa, two of Eddie’s cousins, one with her husband and children; the kids are running around like crazy, hyped on good food and fun music, and everyone seems to be having fun.
Buck, on the other hand, can’t seem to relax for even a second.
“You doing OK?” Eddie asks, coming out of nowhere, and Buck nearly jumps out of his skin.
“Fuck, Eddie, warn a guy!”
“Jeez, I’m sorry! What’re you so jumpy for, anyway?”
Buck waves him off. “Just sleepy. Didn’t have a good night, is all,” he replies, which is, in fact, not a lie. He didn’t get a single blink of sleep last night. At around three he gave up, and made himself a huge thermos of coffee, instead.
He knows this is the right way. He knows they need to talk, and he needs to have things out in the open, finally, so they can stop skirting around this already. It’s a risk, and a bold move, and, frankly, there’s so much on the line. Too much. But he can’t keep dancing around it as if nothing’s happening.
He’s doing it.
-
Maybe not right now, though.
He feels queasy. There’s a bubbling something inside of him; a building panic that he feels in the pit of his stomach, working its way up at a really fast pace.
“Oh, God. Bobby. What if, what if I, uh, I read the whole thing wrong and this isn’t what he wants?”
“What?” Bobby takes a step closer, places a hand on Buck’s shoulder, squeezes. “Buck, no. Listen, we all know Eddie. We see him every single day. We see the two of you. There’s no way this isn’t happening.” There’s a pause, and then, almost as if he can’t help himself, Bobby adds: “But listen, Buck. If it isn’t what he wants, you’ll still be fine. We’ll be here with you, whatever the outcome may be, OK?”
Buck nods, says nothing. He is soothed by Bobby’s words, and he’s relieved that, at last, Bobby seems to be keeping his promise of not sugarcoating things (alternately: lying). He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath.
“OK. Think I’m ready,” he says, hand firmly over his pocket as if he needs reassurance that this is real.
His voice is shaky, he knows, but Bobby doesn’t comment on it, just nods and squeezes his shoulder one more time; walks past him back into the living room, where the party is, obviously, still happening.
Buck takes a moment to look around.
He loves every single one of these people. He’s not sure when or how they became his family, but they are, and he knows he’s a lucky one. Whatever happens, he knows they’ll have his back.
He presses pause on the music that’s playing from his phone, making everyone look around confused, until they see him walking until he stops in the middle of the living room, where Eddie was, just a moment ago, talking to Abuela and Christopher, and is, now, watching him intently, confusion clear in his eyes.
“Hi, everybody,” Buck starts, and he knows he’s blushing, knows they can all tell just how damn nervous he is, but he won’t stop, now. “First, I wanna thank you all for being here today. It fills my heart with joy that we’re all here together, all the people Eddie and Christopher and I love so dearly.” He stops, looks around, offers everyone a smile. “When I decided I wanted to do this, I couldn’t - I didn’t - God. I didn’t know how to go about this, but I know I wanted everyone here.”
“Buck?” Eddie says, looking up at him with what Buck’s pretty sure is hope. Buck takes his hands, mostly because he can’t help himself with the overwhelming need to just touch Eddie.
“I hope you all know how much I love this man. And I know everyone here knows, but if you don’t, let me tell you: Eddie is the best man I’ve ever met. Eddie has the biggest heart, the strongest soul; Eddie is the best father I’ve ever seen, he’s a good friend, a kind man, a just one. A hot one, too,” he adds, wiggling his eyebrows, making everyone laugh. “But we all know that,” he continues. “I wanna tell you about the things only I know. I wanna tell you about how soft he is in the mornings. How he makes coffee just the way I like it. How he wakes Christopher with a smile, every single day. How he loves. How he cares. How he does his best, everyday, to be the best Eddie he could possibly be,” he turns to Eddie, fully, offers him a smile. “I hope you know you are, Eddie. You are the best, Eddie. And I love you. And I love you, too, Superman,” he adds, looking down at where Christopher is watching them with tears in his eyes.
This is it.
He pats his pocket, and fishes out the little box he’s been keeping safe this whole time, goes down on one knee. Hears the murmurs around them, the surprised sounds from their friends and family. Watches as Eddie grips Christopher’s hand tightly, brings one hand up to his mouth.
Now or never.
“Eddie,” he starts, but finds he can’t keep going. He takes a deep breath, starts again: “Eddie, I never knew I could love like this until you. You walked into my life, and you made a mess, and then I made a mess, but what matters is that we’ve come out stronger every single one of those times, and I hope to God there will be so many more for us to walk through.
“So, Eddie, Edmundo Diaz, will you marry me?”
Buck hopes to God he’ll never have to go through this again. He watches as Eddie watches him in silence, looking like he doesn’t understand what’s going on, and Buck wants to cry, and run, and hide, and never come back, because this is the most terrified he’s ever been in his life, and he’s been through a tsunami where he thought he’d lost Christopher, and -
“Yes. Yes, yes, of course, Buck, God, I love you, of course I’ll marry you!”
Then Eddie’s down on his knees with him, and they’re kissing, and Christopher’s right there with them, and Buck has never been happier in his life.
Surrounded by the people he loves, with the one he loves, with their son.
He knows he should think he’ll never be happier than this, but he knows he will. His future has Eddie and Christopher; every day will just be happier.
#buddie#buddie fanfic#evan buckley#eddie diaz#911 fanfic#911 on fox#my words#i continue to be very weak and crave validation#please give it to me i beg
41 notes
·
View notes
Note
what are your thoughts on what maddie says about her and buck's parents, that they were "good people, bad parents"? bc idk if it's just me but I can't get my head around that lmao, I can't understand how they can still be good people if they're bad parents, the two just can't go together for me, so another perspective would be interesting!
Hello friend 🥰
Oh, that is quite a question, isn’t it? Damn I just got out of work but you’re making me think deep thoughts here…
I think that is actually a question were we cannot find a unifying answer to - because like you said for you being a good person and a bad parent aren’t compatible, but for me they are. And I think we’d first have to define what everyone thinks constituents a good person and what constitutes bad parents!
For me a good example of that is Shannon Diaz who, in my opinion, is a good person. She means well and she tries hard but she is quite frankly an awful mother. Yes, she was put in horrible situation after horrible situation and she broke on that - which is something human and cannot be begrudged - but she left her child for several years and while she did try to reconnect and she was learning, she wouldn’t haven contacted Eddie on her own. She came back because the opportunity arose not because she tried to get back to them. (She could have become a good mother but she never got the chance.)
In the same vain I think Bobby pulled a lot of shit back in Minnesota but he still seemed to be a loving and kind father - so my question to you, friend, would be: do you consider Bobby a good person (the Bobby prior to Season 1 mostly)? Despite being the type of person who went to work drunk and / or high and by this endangering others and himself? Because I don’t think so yet the show frames him as a good person despite his downfalls (and I am not saying being an addict makes someone a bad person but I am saying knowingly endangering others does) - and if you think someone cannot be a good person but a bad parent, can someone who is a bad person also not be a good person?
See, one thing I learned working with children is that some people just aren’t made to be parents, and I am not talking about my time with child services, i am talking as a kindergarten teacher. Some people are very nice and they try hard but damn, parenting does not come natural to them and I worry how this will develop in the future. Like one of my mom’s is severely depressed and she might have Munchausen Syndrome by Proxy which doesn’t make her a bad person - but a bad parent at times.
And now, this is were I make you regret asking me specifically about this topic (or maybe not, who knows what your interests are) because I do have a bit of an expertise in what constitutes good / bad parenting and I will talk about it at random whether I am asked or not (and hopefully my language won’t fail me as most of my theoretical knowledge is in german, so please excuse any mistakes in technical terminology because I have to find the english equivalents and you know all those untranslatable german words? Yeah. Someone finally figure out how to translate the difference between Erziehung and Bildung please because both cannot be education and also it doesn’t really fit either):
So let’s get into it, shall we?
What makes good parents?
First up: parental relationship and parenting capabilities: several years ago the german department of family, seniors, women and youth (BmFSFJ) released a paper on what skills parents need to become good parents. There a four main skills (and I hope I translated everything correctly):
child-corresponding skills (ability to respond to the individual needs and features of the child, be it in terms of recognising potential or setting boundaries or sth else)
context-corresponding skills (ability to recognise developmental opportunities but also hinderances for the child and acting accordingly)
self-corresponding skills (being able to reflect their own behaviour as well as being willing to learn new things; also ability to regulate one’s emotions)
action-corresponding skills (trust in ones own ability and effectiveness; being consistent, both in their own actions as well as in response to others actions)
You might have heard of Kurt Levin or Diana Baumrind or someone else doing research into parenting styles. Generally there are four main ones, which, if we use Baumrind, differentiate on the aspects of control and demand
(here is a graph from wikipedia on this)
(I consider this fairly self explanatory but I will get into it in a bit a little more, soooo)
Now of course parenting isn’t just about the parents and what they do - children also have needs (and yes there is a lot of overlap but I am doing this right, okay?)
To quote my government again (because the paper was actually quite good, okay?) children want autonomy (a chance to do things themselves), expertise (a chance to develop their own skills) and relatedness (that one was very hard to translate but this came the closest; the idea is children strive for social connections, a sense of trust in themselves and reliability)
Also Urs Fuhrer defined 5 basic needs children have which are:
feeling of shelteredness and reliable love (I won’t explain this further except: google Harry Harlow and try not to cry like I do every time I am reminded of this monster of a man)
physical security and intactness (self explanatory, right?)
individual and developmentally suitable experiences (yes, children need to be socialised but it needs to be based on the individual child and how it learns best and all that)
boundaries and structure (CHILDREN WANT BOUNDARIES!!!! ALWAYS!!! CHILDREN WANT YOU TO TELL THEM YES OR NO, they need adults to help them navigate the world! Part of feeling secure is having someone who will tell you no and don’t do this; boundaries protect from danger, they represent support and orientation, they protect someone’s dignity (both the child’s and the parent’s), they give something to chafe against on our way to adulthood (because listen, Erikson wasn’t wrong, a lot of development happens in adversity, we find out who we are in contrast to other people)
a secure attachment (most people have heard about Bowlby and his theory of attachment, right? There are several types, though we are born with certain abilities for attachment and then learn how to attach from our parents, we model relationships on this, attachment determines our feeling of security and our thrive for exploration as children)
And I’ll leave the theoretical at this and go on to talk about the Buckley’s now, okay?
(and try to figure out if any of this has an actual point, uuups)
As for the specific situation of Mr and Mrs Buckley, let’s first see what we know of them, okay? (It’s barely anything) (half of it is assumed)
they are both alive
they are (probably) still married
they warned Maddie about Doug (meaning they somewhat cared)
they weren’t physically abusive and most likely also not emotionally
they probably live on the east coast in Pennsylvania
Buck may still be in contact with them
Maddie considers them good people but bad parents
they accepted losing contact with at least one of their children
Maddie doesn’t want them to know about Doug
That’s it!
Now, I personally think they might be very conservative, possibly unsupportive of their children. They might have had plans for their children’s life Maddie and Buck didn’t agree with, they might have been the types to not listen to their children, maybe they worked a lot. Probably fairly impatient, possibly disinterested in their children. Not good at the parenting capabilities.
Based on their children’s issues I’d say authoritarian or neglectful parenting style (though not abusive because it would be a redcon of Maddie’s background), meaning most definitely unresponsive though I cannot make up my mind whether they were demanding or undemanding, as both these styles - even when not so bad they are abusive and / or endangering to the child - make insecure, dependent and unhappy adults (like the children turn into those once they grow up), which does kinda fit with Buck specifically, right?
Though tbh I don’t think the Buckley parents were that horrible. I know fandom has taken the idea and run with it, mainly because after three seasons we know virtually nothing about them aside from some throwaway lines and all the issues we see in their children.
Now, why do I say this?
One, Maddie is a fairly capable adult despite everything that happened to her and even being as resilient as she is, she still has too few issues for how horrible fandom thinks the Buckley parents are
Two, while Buck has a lot of issues, being cocky and having problems with intimacy and being a bit directionless and still needing a parental figure in your mid-20s doesn’t seem that uncommon to me? Like the only really deep issue I’d say he has (that have to be caused by something deeper) are his abandonment issues (and connected to that intimacy). And it’s been implied they are caused by Maddie leaving to go to College which does paint the picture that he doesn’t have a good relationship with his parents but honestly, that sometimes happens, right?
(Also, and this is where my professional background comes in, I don’t like how everyone jumps to the worst possible conclusions about them, simply because I feel it sends the idea that only if the worst things happened to you, you have certain issues which is wrong. Sometimes small things will trigger something way larger in us and that should not be invalidated.)
And okay, I am getting off topic again (but again, my profession lies here) but what I am trying to say is this:
I do think Mr and Mrs Buckley were bad at parenting because they demanded too much but gave too little (emotionally) and I don’t think Buck is really in contact with them but I also don’t think that makes them necessarily bad people. (just bad parents)
I think Maddie and Buck weren’t as close back when they were children as they are now (at least not after Maddie moved to College) because the Buck we know would not accept a sister he is very close to simply no longer having contact with him for three years without trying to figure out why.
I do think they can’t have been that bad mainly because of how good Maddie and Buck are. Listen, I believe in resilience and already being born with a certain personality and traits which shapes how our environment reacts to us, but which is also influenced and changed by our environment ! (Nature vs. nurture, ya’ll) Now I know I said we find and develop ourselves in adversity but not just. We also need someone to foster and support and reward certain traits or we lose them and this is especially true for being kind and heroic!
Buck especially has shown way to little anger or capability for violence for how the fandom likes to write his parents, which considering his general character and also the way he looks - just doesn’t work! (Because generally especially boys raised in abusive families emulate this behaviour and Buck just - doesn’t! Which considering how “fuck toxic masculinity” Buck is most of the time doesn’t make sense because being tall and buff would make the opposite easier for him and would make it the better strategy for survival, so this would be the behaviour he would have learned)
(unless our writers say fuck being realistic and fuck psychology)
His parents had to have done something right, because Maddie will have left for College by the time he was 12 / 13 probably and we know they consider this her abandoning him meaning they probably weren’t really in contact then and while the first years of your life ARE VERY important for who you become later (urgh, yes, I’ll admit it, Sigmund Freud, the most overrated theorist did get SOME things right) they aren’t everything and you develop for longer and also a young girl like Maddie would have been would have not been self-reliant and stable enough to raise her literal baby brother in a way that made him resilient enough to become the person Buck has become despite her leaving him twice
Not to mention: considering the person we know Maddie is - if their parents really were that horrible she wouldn’t have left Buck with them, she would have taken him with her!
ANYWAYS!
Okay, tbh, I have no idea if any of that answered your question, but I did spend nearly two hours on it so enjoy?
I really don’t have a good answer to your question because we really don’t know enough and what we know doesn’t fully gel with each other and urgh, I don’t know friend despite this being the one thing I actually have some knowledge on!
I’m not even sure any of this makes sense and I am so sorry about that! I was trying, friend, but sadly an answer eludes me
Guess I should have just ended after saying: we cannot find a unifying answer to this because we each have individual definitions of good and bad in regards to people?
(Now, for everyone who read all of this? I love you and thank you and sorry! Please have a great day while I go cry in the shower now because I this ask drained me and also Harry Harlow)
EDIT: I wrote attachment issues when I wanted to say abandonment issues, shit!
#omg someone messaged me am I cool yet#buck meta#maddie meta#buckley meta#911 meta#meta#I honestly think there is a bit more evidence in canon to support Eddie having abusive parents than Buck#911#911 fox#evan buckley#maddie kendall#the buckley siblings#this ask messed me up a bit because I feel like I should know these answers but I don't#this is what I am supposed to be good at why do I not know this?#textpost#I am so sorry Anon I really tried#my meta
49 notes
·
View notes
Text
Lmao I’m too weak willed to not get pulled further into this AU. Basically at this point all this means is that leading up to Eddie Begins, Buck and Eddie have primed themselves for the Big Transition in their relationship. So instead of the fight club arc, Eddie gets a growth arc not rooted in violence. He has Buck to help him through some of rougher emotions that comes along with unpacking all his trauma, but it helps that they can bond over similar nights out stationed. It helps Buck, too, to process through some of the things he’s been too ashamed to unpack, because he’s always thought of being kicked out of the force as this great failure so it means something too deep for Buck when Eddie tells him the army just taught Buck what kind of person he was destined to be; how he wouldn’t have learned this intrinsic need to be actively saving people if he didn’t “fail” at what the army asked of him. That everything has led him into finding what he’s meant to do, and not to question the road he had to take to get there because every step is already behind him.
How it’s a lesson Eddie learns for himself, while he’s learning to let himself be happier while in the moment. That he comes to accept his marriage to Shannon wasn’t a failure because it gave them Chris and the decade or so between them gave them the ability to work as a team when needed to co-parent their son. It wasn’t a failure, because Eddie learns everything a husband isn’t so he feels comfortable entering a relationship with Buck, knowing full well there’s hope for a happy future in the end since Eddie’s more sure of his ability to be a good partner now.
So imagine these two working so hard to get to a point where they can safely and responsibly move forward with their relationship. Imagine how heated the moments would start getting, the closer they realize they are to taking That Step. Imagine the satisfaction for character growth when we see the lessons Buck learned with Abby actually stick, and what a good throwback it would be to s1 when Buck had tried so hard not to be sexual with Abby so as not to mess things up but in the end couldn’t help but start a relationship—and look at him now, and imagine that sweet gratification from Buck jumping into waiting without hesitation when it comes to Eddie. Knowing without a doubt that even the chance to start something with his best friend would be the best decision of his life, and he’d wait forever if he had to. (But he’s really hoping forever doesn’t last much longer, tbh.)
And then imagine Eddie Begins happens. And tbh, Buck wouldn’t act much differently lbr. Boy acted like his entire world was ripped from him when Eddie disappeared, so. I really don’t think that could get much better reaction wise. But man oh man the aftermath would be so much sweeter.
Just imagine the absolute knee-shattering relief Buck would feel at seeing Eddie again—haggard and worn but alive—and him and Christopher spending the night at Eddie’s bedside since the doctors insist on overnight monitoring. Imagine how Eddie doesn’t even fight Chris this time when he insists on staying with his Buck and his daddy, and Shannon doesn’t even say anything about it when she drops off a late late dinner for them before visitor hours close. Honestly, she almost looked like she was halfway considering asking to stay too, but Eddie is grateful she only looked at the three of them with a watery smile that was way too accepting to be anything other than defeat, and bowed out.
Imagine how full Eddie’s chest would be as he watches Buck hold a sleeping Christopher in the most awkward position Eddie knows can’t be comfortable while they’re both shoved into the crappy hospital recliner instead of the cot. Chris is still facing Eddie—unwilling to take his eyes off his dad the entire time he was fighting sleep—and Buck is gently rocking the chair with one foot propped against the edge of Eddie’s bed. Eddie is fairly certain Buck hasn’t realized Chris is passed out yet, because he’s just still humming some off tune pop song that was on the radio on the way to the station at the start of their shift this morning, one hand sifting through the soft curls at the crown of Chris’ head and the other idly flipping channels on the silent tv in the corner of the room.
Eddie realizes there’s no doubt about how much he loves the man next to him as he watches Buck’s—large, strong, gentle—hands brush down Chris’ hair to his his back, nothing but the picture of love and adoration as he sits next to Eddie at two in the morning in the hospital after Eddie nearly died. Eddie realizes this cramped room still feels like home, because Buck is with him and Chris is safe between them. Eddie realizes that there is no way he can make it without having Buck beside him in life the way he is now, for the rest of his life.
Eddie realizes it doesn’t matter that they haven’t figured out the intimate bits of their relationship; he’s had enough stirred within him the countless times he’s caught himself staring at Buck doing something stupidly endearing to know they’ll definitely figure it out with enough practice. And the practice is something Eddie is really, really looking forward to.
Eddie realizes—in between Buck sighing softly and giving up on the TV, switching the power off and changing tune on his humming, making it lower and harder for Eddie to hear as he scoops his arm under Chris and readjusts so his head is better supported—that Buck already knows how to integrate into Eddie and Christopher’s lives as a stepfather, because he’s already excelled at being such a positive adult influence in Christopher’s life that most of Chris’ teachers already assume Buck and Eddie’s relationship status.
Hell, they even had to sit over the kitchen table with receipts and job records and shit this year when tax season rolled around, because they had so many intertwining finances ever since Buck moved in it was just easier for them to do them together to make sure nothing got left out.
Eddie just realizes he’s always had this picture-perfect image of a family in his head and he’s built something so much better, and they’re crammed into a crappy recliner beside him and there’s nowhere else he’d rather be right now.
So in between one breath and the next, Eddie has asked, “Marry me?” like the words are light as air.
Air which chokes Buck, who freezes and has to check to make sure he hasn’t woken up the sleeping nine year old in his arms. He meets Eddie’s gaze with so much burning heat Eddie wishes there was a way for them to get a jumpstart on that practice. “You’re serious?”
“Would never joke about it, not with you,” Eddie tells him evenly, catching Buck’s eyes and refusing to let them go.
“Then yes. Yes, of course,” Buck grins, and it’s a blinding thing but Eddie just lets himself bask in it.
Anyway yeah that would have been cool for s3. Haven’t put much thought on how it would affect 3x16 and 3x17 but I’m sure there’s more you could explore still having Abby come back.
Either way anyway who has stuck along this weird not-fic ride with me thanks! My inbox is always open if anyone wants to chat meta shit like this with me.
19 notes
·
View notes
Text
Gotta Catch ‘Em All
Written by @pawprinterfanfic
Gift for @greenornaments
Pairing: Richie Tozier x Eddie Kaspbrak
Word count: 9,500
Rating: Teen
AO3 Llink
Eddie Kaspbrak never knew loving someone could hurt so much.
He was eighteen when he found out. It was his first year of college, and his insufferable roommate managed to worm his way into his heart.
(Fuck that guy.)
Richie was everything he should’ve hated — he was messy, and loud, and annoying. He did hate him. He hated his crude jokes, and his trash mouth, and his smile that caused his heart to skip a beat, and his gorgeous eyes, and his ability to make him laugh at anything, and how his heart was seemingly always in the right place, and—
Yeah. Eddie was a goner.
At eighteen years old, he knew that he was in love with Richie Tozier. Now, at twenty-one, Eddie realized how awful it was.
He was in love with someone who didn’t love him back.
It was torture, and Eddie hated it more than he hated much else before. It felt like he was doomed to be friends with the idiot for a long time — which was fantastic because Richie was a great guy — but it also sucked ass, because he really, really, really wanted to kiss him more than any friend should.
Don’t get him wrong; he was happy being Richie’s friend, because being anything with Richie was worlds better than being nothing with him. He’d gladly silently pine over him for years if it meant he could have his friendship. He was his best friend, and he wouldn’t trade that for anything.
Having a massive crush on his roommate may or may not have had anything to do with his current situation, which involved getting dressed up to go dance with a bunch of sweaty adults, drinking alcohol that tasted like shit, and staying out half the night.
“It’ll be fun,” Richie repeated, following Eddie as he moved around their tiny apartment.
After spending freshmen year living in the college dorms together, they pooled their resources and rented off-property, which was probably one of their better decisions. Usually, they shared one brain cell when they were within ten feet of each other.
“If you say that one more time, I will kill you.” Eddie dumped his armful of freshly washed clothing onto the couch before turning to make his way to the kitchen, not stopping to give Richie a spare glance. “It’s not going to be fun. Dancing in someone’s dark and moist little basement will never be fun. You can quote me on that.”
“Please, for the love of god, never say moist again.”
Eddie pulled the tag off the bag of bread and plopped two pieces into the toaster. Richie hauled himself onto the counter, his feet swinging back and forth like he was a kid on a swing set.
“Moist is a fine word, Richard. Just like phlegm, and panties, and ointment, and—”
“Ew.” Richie gave a violent shudder and sent a sour look at the other man. Eddie tried to keep the corners of his lips from twitching upwards. He found bothering Richie fun. Sue him. “You really know how to kill the mood, don’t you, Kaspbrak?”
“There never was a mood, dipshit. Besides, I was just listing a bunch of perfectly normal words in the English language. I didn’t know you were going to gag at them.”
Richie tried to scowl. Eddie almost would’ve believed it, save for the smile curling his lips. “I hate you,” he said.
Eddie pursed his lips. “Do you, now?”
The facade cracked easily. The scowl disappeared, leaving Richie grinning widely. “You’re right. I’m a liar. I love you. My lil’ Eddie Spaghetti.”
Richie made a move to press his lips to Eddie’s cheek, but he stepped out of the way. The butter knife, covered in soy butter, pointed in his direction. Richie must’ve anticipated his response, because he gave an exaggerated wink and ruffled Eddie’s hair.
“If you’re trying to convince me to come with you, you’re doing a shitty job,” he pointed out. His heart was still pounding from when Richie made a move to kiss his cheek, and he hoped his body wasn’t betraying him with a blush. “You’re annoying the shit out of me, Rich.”
“But you luv me,” he sang, wiggling his eyebrows.
“Sure, like I love wet socks, maybe.”
Eddie Kaspbrak was a liar.
Richie wasn’t deterred and continued to pester him. “It will be fun. I’ll be there. Bill will be there. Stan will be there. Mike will be there. Bev will be there. Ben will—”
“I get it. Everyone will be there.”
Eddie reached around Richie to grab a glass from the cupboard behind him. He moved out of the way of the swinging door, thus moving right into Eddie’s space. He bit his tongue and forced his eyes to remain on the task at hand.
Don’t get distracted. Don’t look at him. Don’t look at—
Fuck, he has really pretty eyes. And his stupid smile, god, I want to kiss that stupid smile right off his face. And—
Wait! No! Fuck!
Eddie jolted backwards, pulling his glass with him. Richie didn’t say anything and only raised an eyebrow as he slid back against the cupboard.
Eddie’s heart was pounding. Being so close to Richie was unhealthy — all he wanted to do was tell him how in love with him he was, and that was guaranteed to end in disaster and embarrassment.
“It’s our last year in college, Eds, and after this we’ll be adults.” Richie wrinkles his nose at the word, like it thoroughly disgusted him. “How many opportunities do you think we’ll have as fucking adults to go to a Halloween party? Do you think we’ll ever be able to get dressed up in shitty store-bought costumes and eat so much candy our stomach hurts ever again?” He didn’t wait for him to respond. “No! We’ll be old and boring by Halloween 1998. This is our last chance!”
“First of all, you’re a dramatic bitch, Rich. Secondly, I’m fairly confident adults have Halloween parties.”
“Are you an adult?”
“Well, I am twenty-one years old, so—”
“Are you an actual graduated adult living in the real world, and not this weird in-between pre-adulthood thing called college?” Richie cocked an eyebrow, already knowing the answer. “Exactly. So how confident are you that actual adults in the real world celebrate Halloween?”
Eddie was silent for a long moment because, well, he wasn’t entirely sure. His mother had been a pretty big downer when he was growing up, and she hated Halloween with a passion. She never let him go trick-or-treating, just in case someone put razor blades in his Kit Kat — he couldn’t ever imagine her going to a Halloween party.
“Exactly.” Richie adjusted his glasses on his nose after he jumped off the counter top. “I know you hate Halloween and shit, but it’ll be fun.”
“I don’t hate Halloween.” Eddie didn’t bother to tell him off for saying that it was going to be fun again. Knowing Richie, he would start saying that more just to annoy him. “I just don’t like it.”
“You once told me that you’d rather sleep on the public bathroom floor than celebrate Halloween, Eds.” Eddie cringed at the visual. Public bathrooms were disgusting, and don’t get him started on the floor!? Ew, ew, ew, ew— “I arrest my case.”
“Okay, maybe I do hate Halloween, but that’s because it’s so boring. What? I’m supposed to dress up as something? And walk around, asking strangers for candy? And then eat that candy? That sounds horrible!”
“Sorry to break it to you, Eds, but I think we’re a tad too old to be trick-or-treating. No talking to strangers for you this year, unfortunately.”
Eddie sat down in the kitchen chair ungracefully, the plate clattering to the table in front of him. He gave Richie a deadpan look. “Ha ha,” he said sarcastically.
Richie slid into the chair opposite to him and stole a slice of toast from his plate. Eddie didn’t comment. Richie jacking his food was more common than he’d admit.
“Halloween is great, you just don’t know it yet! We will go to this party together and, since I’m the master of all things spooky, I’ll show you just how great Halloween is.” He took a bite of toast, sending crumbs flying.
Eddie nibbled on the piece of bread in contemplation. Richie watched him, his eyes wide and leg bouncing.
Finally, Eddie gave in. “I don’t have a costume.”
Richie must’ve sensed that he was beginning to consider it, and he pounced. Seeing how excited he was about Eddie going with him to this stupid party almost made his heart skip a beat.
“I can get you a discount on costumes,” he said, crumbs going everywhere.
That was Richie’s newest gig — working at Oh My Spooky at the mall, a seasonal store that popped up every August, claiming the empty of buildings of deceased department stores, like Kmart.
“The party’s in like… two hours, Rich. Spooky is closed.”
“Right, right.” He waved his hand, dismissing the idea. “I’ll just let you borrow one of mine. We had to wear costumes on shift, right, so I have like a shit ton of costumes in my room.”
“I know, idiot. I live with you. Your room is a disaster.”
It was true. Richie’s room was a disaster year round, but it looked like the sight of a natural disaster during the month of October. If he got desperate, Eddie was sure Richie could make a good buck by selling all the costumes he accumulated.
Richie grasped the rims of his glasses and squinted his eyes dramatically, giving Eddie a once over. Eddie had been friends with Richie long enough to know he should just let him do his thing. He continued to nibble on the toast.
Finally, their eyes met again. “But, you’re like, really fucking tiny, Eds, so—”
“Fuck off,” he said, tossing a piece of crust at his head. Richie grinned and caught it in his mouth. “I’m not really fucking tiny.”
“Aw, you are, sweetheart, you just can’t face the facts.” Richie had the audacity to lean across the table and boop Eddie on the nose. “Cute, cute, cute!”
He swatted Richie’s hand away from him. His heart was racing. Butterflies were rolling in his stomach. He felt his cheeks burning, and he was sure Richie was going to tease him about it.
Before he could, Eddie tried to cover his tracks. He narrowed his eyes and pointed threateningly at Richie. “I will murder you.”
“See! You have the Halloween spirit!” Richie leaned back in his chair, grinning wider than Eddie could remember. His stupid smile made Eddie want to smile. Fuck him. “Are you in, then? You’re coming tonight?”
Maybe it was because Richie’s smile was doing something funny to his brain, or maybe it was because he wanted to go to a party with Richie before they graduated, or maybe it was because he was a little curious as to why everyone loved Halloween, but he nodded.
“Fine,” he huffed. “I’ll come tonight.” Richie let out a little whoop and jumped up from his chair. “But I won’t enjoy it!”
“You’re so cute when you’re stubborn,” Richie said, reaching forward to boop his nose again. Eddie’s mouth ran dry because—
Fuck, Richie calling him cute was one of his favourite sounds.
“Call me cute again, and I’ll— I’ll—” Fuck, he didn’t have a comeback. Richie seemed to love the fact Eddie was rendered speechless, and laughed a little harder.
“Cute, cute, cute!”
“Asshole,” he muttered, shoving the last piece of toast into his mouth. Richie grinned brightly at that, and it was the final straw for Eddie. He felt a smile of his own spread across his face. It was hard not to smile with Richie in the room.
“Wait there. I’ll get your costume.”
Richie was already running out of the kitchen before Eddie swallowed his toast to respond. “Nothing with less fabric than—”
“Your mom’s underwear!? Got it!”
Eddie’s head fell to his hands. “No, Richard, I wasn’t, in fact, going to use my mother’s underwear as a reference, but thank you! I was going to say—”
Richie peeled back into the kitchen before Eddie could finish his sentence, two costumes strung across his arms. “Doesn’t matter. Here.”
He tossed the first costume at Eddie’s head, and he managed to catch it before a metal belt buckle could whip him in the eye. It took him less than three seconds to examine the fabric and come to a verdict.
“Absolutely fucking not, Richard. What the fuck!? Why the fuck would I want to go as sexy Robin? That makes no fucking sense!” Richie is doubled over from laughing so hard, and Eddie was finding it exceedingly difficult not to join in.
“I just wanted to see your expression,” he managed to get out between laughs. “Fucking classic!”
Eddie felt a smile pulling at his lips, and he was desperate not to let Richie see it.
(Because, to be honest, if Richie saw the reaction he invoked in him, he never would shut up.)
(And, yes, that was it.)
(No, it had nothing to do with the fact he was helplessly in love with him and smiling at him like he hung the stars in the sky would give that away.)
(Really.)
(Eddie Kaspbrak was many things, but a liar was not one of them.)
“Why the fuck did you have this in your room!?” he questioned, hanging onto the threads of annoyance. His question made Richie laugh harder. Fuck. Knowing he was the one making Richie laugh did funny things to his heart.
“Your mom loves role-play, didn’t you know? She— Ouch! Fuck!” Eddie had thrown the costume at Richie with a glare.
“Shut up,” he said, but it was no use. The two of them were looking at each other, and Eddie couldn’t keep his smile down any longer. He shook his head fondly and leaned back in his chair. “Please tell me you have something better than sexy Robin?”
Richie lifted up a red and blue outfit, his eyebrow raised in question. Eddie pulled a face when he realized it was supposed to be Mario from Mario Brothers. When Eddie insulted the costume, Richie looked personally offended.
“You don’t want to go as this godly man!?” Eddie didn’t ask Richie why Mario was so godly, but he took it upon himself to explain. “He saved the world — multiple times, may I add. He fights bad guys, he dodges those green shell dudes, he eats a shit ton of mushrooms, he fights for his princess, he can drive. Holy shit, Eddie, he can drive!”
In the end, Richie gave up on trying to sell the Mario costume.
The next pair of costumes to come out were Popeye the Sailorman, which got an immediate no from Eddie, and Scooby-Doo, which also got an immediate no.
Richie stuck out his bottom lip and gave a poor impression of Scooby. “Ruh roh,” he said, his voice rough. “Reddie roesn’t rant to rear me!”
“I was unsure before, but now that’s a solid no.”
This went on for longer than Eddie would care to admit. Richie would bring out a few costumes at a time and, each time, Eddie would find something wrong with it. “I hated that cartoon.” “If I wanted to be a ghost, I’d just cut holes out of one of our sheets.” “Am I supposed to know what that character is?”
Richie was patient, and all Eddie could think of was how good he was, willing to spend forever going through costumes with him, joking all through it, never letting Eddie’s sour mood tarnish his.
Fuck, he couldn’t stop thinking about him. How his lips would curve into a smile that made him want to smile too, how his eyes sparkled like they were part of the ocean, how his freckles spanned his pale skin like stars in the sky. He couldn’t stop thinking about pressing his lips against his, or running his hands through his curls, or feeling his hot breath against his face, and—
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He was so far gone, it wasn’t even funny. When did he turn into a sap? Like, what the fuck?
Eddie was so thrown off guard that, when Richie came with the next costume, he said— “Yes.” Richie’s eyes widened the slightest bit, and that was when Eddie realized he had no idea what he was agreeing too. He cleared his throat and sat a bit straighter. “I mean. Maybe.”
“Oooooooookay then.” Richie adjusted his glasses on his face and continued to watch Eddie carefully. “Listen, man, if you don’t want to come tonight, that’s fine, I don’t want to make you, but—”
“No,” he said quickly.
He didn’t want Richie thinking that he was being forced to do something he didn’t want to because that wasn’t the case. He wanted to go. He wanted to see why Richie liked Halloween so much, and he wanted to get dressed up in a shitty costume and drink shitty alcohol and eat candy that may or may not make him sick. It was going to be fun.
Besides, it meant he got to spend the evening with Richie, and that was good enough for him.
“What’s the next costume?” Richie cocked an eyebrow, and Eddie realized he had no idea what he had been saying only a minute ago. “Sorry, what did you say? I was distracted by the fact that you own a concerning amount of Halloween costumes. I mean, seriously, Rich, this is kind of baffling.”
Richie slid into the kitchen chair opposite from him again. “I have some bad news for you, Eds.” He looked almost… serious. It threw Eddie, just a little bit.
“What? What is it? What’s wrong?”
He leaned forward, stretching his arms across the table and taking hold of Eddie’s hand. All the air left Eddie’s lungs at the contact because, shit, he was holding Richie’s hand. It was cold and clammy, but that seemed to fit him perfectly.
Finally, Richie spoke.
“That’s it. That’s all my costumes. Looks like you have two options from here; go stark naked, or wear what you usually do and say you’re dressed as a nerd.”
Eddie flicked the palm of his hand and crossed his arms. “First off, fuck you. Second off, fuck you.”
Richie smirked. “I take it you don’t want to go naked? C’mon, you’re depriving the world of—“
“No, I’m not going naked, you dumbass. How is going naked a viable solution to this problem anyways!?”
Richie winked. “You caught me. I just wanna see you naked, sweetheart.”
Eddie tried to keep his expression blank, but he could feel his face flushing. Fuck Richie, fuck his ability to flirt with anyone, fuck his stupid body for giving away how affected he would get from his flirting.
“I mean, I do have one last option.”
When Richie returned to the kitchen, he was carrying a yellow onesie. Upon further inspection, he noticed a tail in the shape of a lightning bolt, and pointed ears with black tips, and—
“Pikachu!!”
Eddie moved across the room quickly and dragged his fingertips over the fabric. He was right, the costume was for Pikachu, and it was perfect. He loved the little guy because how could you not? He was a badass, and an immeasurable amount of cute.
“Sold!” Eddie said, snatching the costume fully from Richie’s hands. “Shit, why didn’t you start with this one? You know how much I love Pikachu.”
Maybe Richie was right earlier when he called him a nerd. If liking Pokémon more than he liked his own mother made him a nerd, then so be it!
“Yeah, well, it comes with a catch.” For the first time, Eddie realized how unsure and hesitant Richie looked. He was shifting his weight from foot to foot and had his hands buried in his pockets.
Richie was actually nervous.
“Please tell me that the butt isn’t cut out or something.” Eddie flopped the costume over to check and — nope. All pieces to the costume were there.
“No, there’s nothing wrong with it,” he assured Eddie. “It just isn’t alone.”
“... What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Richie puffed out his cheeks. “It means that it’s part of a set. I, uh, have the costume that matches it. Hold on.” Seconds later, Richie reappeared with his costume in hand.
Oh.
Oh, fuck.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. You’re going as Ash?”
“Hell yeah, man. Gotta catch ‘em all, you know?”
“That makes no fucking sense, Richie, so no, I don’t know.” Eddie tried to ignore how his stomach was twisting. If Richie was going as Ash and he was going as Pikachu, and Richie claimed it was part of a set, that meant— “Wait. Is this a couples costume?”
The words slipped out of Eddie’s mouth and a cold dread settled over him.
Fuck. Just mentioning the word ‘couple’ to Richie felt like he was crossing a line — a line that he drew, one that he was desperate not to cross. Don’t cross this line, he told himself, or you’ll fuck up your friendship.
Richie’s expression was one he hadn’t seen before, and it made his heart race for a completely different reason than before. Was it weird that he suggested it was a couples costume? Or was he being paranoid? Because it felt like mentioning the word ‘couple’ to him was normal, but then again—
“Uh. Yeah. It came as a set, like… a couple costume.” He adjusted his glasses on his nose — a nervous habit. He was looking at him, like he was waiting for him to say something. Eddie’s mouth had run dry and his tongue darted out to wet his lips.
“Oh.” He was racking his brain, trying to figure out the best response in this situation. Finally, he settled on an answer. “Well, that’s okay. I can always wear the ghost costume, or — even better — the sexy Robin.”
Richie didn’t smile at his attempt at a joke. In fact, he looked almost hurt. “What? You’re not going to wear Pikachu?”
Eddie was confused. Of course he wasn’t going to wear a couples costume with Richie — that felt like it was crossing a million lines. Maybe if he wasn’t completely in love with him, it would be a different story, but he was in love with him.
“No.”
“But you were excited about it?” Richie’s next smile was forced — Eddie could tell by the way it didn’t reach his eyes. “Why not?”
This felt like some weird alternate reality to Eddie. This wasn’t happening, was it? Richie wasn’t asking him to explain why he didn’t want to wear a couples costume with him, right? He couldn’t exactly say ‘because I’m in love with you, and this is crossing that invisible line I set so I don’t fuck things up.’
He was screwed.
So, he lied.
“People will think that we’re… together if we show up in a couples costume.” Now that he said it out loud, it didn’t sound like a lie, and it didn’t feel like one either.
Yeah. Shit. People will think we’re together, and the night will be filled with Richie indirectly shooting me down all night.
He could see it now; Richie would explain to everyone how they’re not together because how could they be? He couldn’t love that mess of a human!
Shit. This quickly replaced his fear of crossing the invisible line. He doubted he could handle a whole evening filled with Richie explaining to strangers how they were not — and would never be — a couple.
Richie’s answer felt like a punch in the gut.
“Is there a problem with that? With people thinking we’re together?”
This was a sick joke, Eddie decided. Richie knows I’m in love with him and he’s being an ass about it.
Except, Richie wasn’t an ass — not about things that mattered, anyways. Sure, he would joke about fucking his mom and try to annoy him to death, but he wasn’t an asshole about important things.
“Yeah, of course that’s a problem.” His words may have come out harsher than he intended. Eddie shuffled awkwardly and looked anywhere that wasn’t at Richie. “We aren’t together. We’re… We’re friends.”
“Right. Friends.” Eddie’s gaze flicked to meet Richie’s from how deflated he sounded. It must’ve been his mind playing tricks on him though, because Richie was beaming and bouncing on the balls of his feet. “There you have it, Eds! We’re friends, so it doesn’t matter. This is just what friends do. I know you have, like, zero childhood friends and you don’t know this shit, but—”
“Fuck off,” Eddie said, but his voice didn’t have any venom in it. Richie was right — going in a couples costume together wasn’t a big deal for two friends. They were just friends. Bros. Pals. Buds. “Fine, you’re right, I’m being weird.” Because I’m totally fucking in love with you. “I’m going to change.”
Richie’s smile made warmth bubble up inside of him. “There ye have it, good ol’ chap! Time to get our spook on!”
.
Eddie was incredibly nervous, and he blamed the asshole beside him.
Richie looked good, which was extremely strange considering he was dressed in the Ash costume. But he also wore a grin so wide that it made Eddie’s cheeks hurt from just looking at it. His eyes were dancing with excitement. He looked so carefree in that moment, walking down the street with a skip in his step, and it made Eddie’s chest warm.
He was also nervous because he hadn’t gone to a party for a really long time, not since they were both freshmen and Richie was set on dragging Eddie everywhere he went. He would be the first to admit that he wasn’t in tune with current pop songs, and his heart lurched when he realized he might not know any song.
No, that was ridiculous. Richie blasted pop songs at two in the morning some days, so he would at least know those songs.
“Did you eat something before we left?” Eddie asked, breaking the silence of the night. Richie was a few paces ahead of him as they walked to the party, humming what sounded like Space Jam theme song. “Drinking on an empty stomach can be dangerous, you know, so...”
Richie turned around and continued to walk backwards. He was smiling softly and it made Eddie’s heart flip. It wasn’t often that Richie looked so open — so vulnerable. Usually he looked like the little asshole he was.
The change made Eddie feel completely out of his depth.
He loved it.
“You take such good care of me, my Eds Spagheds.” He blew a kiss. Eddie scowled.
“I just don’t want to be dragging you home drunk, fucker. Don’t mistake my words for concern. It’s purely selfish.”
“Right, of course.” Richie spun back around. “I did eat though. Wouldn’t want to have you carrying me home. We’d never make it up the block.”
“Shut up. Like you could carry me.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he realized his mistake. “No, Richie, don’t even—“
It was too late.
Richie was laughing like a maniac when he scooped Eddie off the ground and into his arms. Eddie clutched at the collar of his blue and white striped shirt to balance himself and Richie’s arms wound under his knees and around his back. All the air in his lungs came out in a whoosh and he could feel his blood rushing to his cheeks.
His knuckles were white from how tightly he was holding his collar. His heart was pounding so loudly that he was sure Richie could hear it.
Richie took off in a sprint and Eddie clung to him out of fear, all the while shouting for him to put him down.
Yet, he wanted the exact opposite of that.
He really didn’t want Richie to put him down.
He could feel each one of Richie’s breaths ghost along his face, and he could feel his palms digging into his back. His body was warm and he smelled distinctly of syrup, which was fitting, considering he once witnessed him eat a full box of Eggos in ten minutes.
From the angle he was in, it looked like he was glowing. The streetlights blurred around him. The sharpness of his jaw and the slope of his nose stole the breath from his lungs. It felt like his whole body was buzzing from being pressed against him.
He was gone.
So far gone.
.
As they approached the house the party was being held at, Richie set Eddie back down on his feet, a smug smile tugging at his lips.
“Easy peasy,” he said, sounding slightly breathless.
Eddie tried to keep his expression blank, but fuck, Richie made him want to smile.
The closer they got, the more nervous he became.
He pulled at the hem of his yellow sleeve. Maybe he shouldn’t have agreed to come with Richie tonight; it seemed like he was getting nervous about everything. He was nervous about the stupid couples costume, and he was nervous about how he acted with Richie earlier, and he was nervous about the music, and dancing, and—
“It’ll be fine, my Eds Spagheds.” Richie slung his arm around his shoulders as they made their was up the driveway to the house the party was being hosted at. “We look smashing. We’ll be the bells of the ball.”
“We do not look smashing. We’re dressed as characters from a children’s cartoon. Which brings me to my next point; why the fuck is Ash and Pikachu a couples costume? Isn’t Ash, like, Pikachu’s owner or some shit? And isn’t Pikachu and Pokémon, which is basically an animal? This seems entirely inappropriate for a couples costume, considering they’re not romantic and one is an animal, so—”
His thoughts died off when Richie leaned forward and planted a wet kiss to Eddie’s cheek. He jolted away and gave him a wild look because—
“What the fuck was that!?” Eddie swiped at the slobber left behind on his cheek while his heart raced. He wanted to shove Richie against the front door and kiss him dizzy.
“You’re just so cute, cute, cute! Look at you — dressed as lil’ ol’ Pikachu, ranting about how unsexy you are. Whew. Taking my breath away.”
Eddie scowled. Richie was a flirt — he knew that from day one — but he was laying it on thick right now, and he really wasn’t in the best mood to deal with that. All while Richie was flirting with him, he had to live with the knowledge that it was all play, and it hurt.
With that, they entered the house.
.
Eddie will admit; Halloween was pretty sweet.
(Which was an awesome pun, by the way, because his stomach was currently hurting from eating so many sweet pieces of candy.)
Beverly burst out laughing when she originally saw his and Richie’s costumes, commenting how cute they were.
“I’m not cute,” Eddie insisted. Richie attempted to boop him on the nose again, and he flipped him off.
Stan rolled his eyes.
Eddie spent the first part of the night dancing with their group of friends, and drinking shitty alcohol, and eating way too much candy.
While they danced, Richie hovered by his side. Every once and awhile, he’d lower his lips to his ear and whisper to him, each time causing goosebumps to erupt along his arms. None of the whispers were of importance; it was just Richie fucking around, talking about different costumes they saw, or bringing up one of their jokes, or doing a poor impersonation of a cowboy singing the lyrics of the song blaring from the speakers.
Without fail, Richie was able to get Eddie laughing. It didn’t take too long for Eddie to feel more comfortable moving around the basement (“and yes, Richie, is moist, thank you very much”) and enjoying himself.
That was the thing about Richie. He was always able to bring Eddie out of his shell, encouraging him to be brave and be himself. His carefree attitude made Eddie want to be carefree too.
When the dance floor (basement) got too crowded, their little group moved to sit on a pair of couches on the (not moist) ground floor of the house. It was a tight squeeze, but all seven of them managed to fit on the furniture. Eddie wasn’t going to complain about the fact Richie was practically in his lap because, truth be told, being pressed against him wasn’t the worst thing in the world.
Richie had his arm draped around his shoulders and legs on his, squishing him into the armrest. As the night stretched on, he became louder, his jokes grew worse, and his mouth trashier. Eddie loved how his cheeks flushed red, and how his hands were clammy on his arm, and how he seemed to laugh more than talk.
When Bev started talking about an upcoming movie she wanted to see, Richie turned his full attention to him.
“What do you think, Eds? Having fun?”
Not wanting to give Richie the satisfaction of being right, he wrinkled his nose. “It’s alright, I guess.”
Richie saw through it easily. “Fuck off. You’re having the time of your life.”
“Fine. I’m having fun.”
“Ha. Fucking told you it would be fun!”
Eddie was about to shoot back at him, but a guy from his sociology class leaned over the couch and poked him in the shoulder, drawing his attention away from him. “Hey, Eddie, right? Candy?” He lifted a giant bowl of individually wrapped candies and chocolates.
He glanced in the bowl and tried to suppress a frown. The one thing he did hate about Halloween was the ungodly amounts of nutty chocolate everywhere. Of course, the one food he was allergic to had to be in every goddamn chocolate bar sold on this dumb holiday.
And, worst of all, was trying to figure out a way to explain to strangers that no, he didn’t want their candy and, no, it wasn’t because he was on a diet, and, no, it didn’t matter that they only had a little bit of nuts in them. Then, he’d spend the next ten minutes trying to educate them about allergies because they were confused, and it usually ended up with him fending off passive-aggressive comments from them.
People that didn’t know him seemed to love getting personally offended by his allergy.
Before Eddie could respond to the offered chocolate, Richie leaned forward.
“We’re more sophisticated than that, Chad.” Richie pushed the orange bowl away from the two of them. “We brought our own.” As if to demonstrate the fact they had a secret stash of chocolate, Richie pulled out a Kit Kat from his left pocket and waved it.
When Chad was out of ear-shot, Eddie turned to Richie. “But we didn’t bring our own.”
Richie unwrapped the chocolate bar and split it in two as he spoke. “Maybe you didn’t. Plus, that dude doesn’t need to know the real reason you don’t want to eat his precious chocolate.” He lifted half of the chocolate bar in offering. “You want?” Richie stuffed the chocolate bar between Eddie’s parted lips. The action felt extremely intimate and made Eddie flush. He hoped the darkness hid it. “People are always assholes about that shit, so I came prepared.”
Eddie’s heart felt like it had flipped a few times in his chest. Richie knew how uncomfortable it made him to explain his medical condition to completely random strangers, and managed to come up with an explanation to save him from that.
Fuck, he loved him.
“Aaaaaaand,” Richie drawled, patting his left pocket, “there’s a lot more where that came from. I’ll fend off any nut carrying assholes for you.”
Eddie’s expression softened. He felt overwhelmed with affection by that simple action.
“I— Uh— Thank you, Rich.”
“Anything for you, my lil’ Pikachu.”
.
Eddie wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but it felt like hours. His sides hurt from laughing so much. His head was a little fuzzy from the alcohol. He ate way too many half-melted Kit Kats from Richie’s pocket.
Eddie couldn’t take his eyes off of Richie. He was a very animated storyteller and managed to make any story hilarious, even if said story was about him.
“And I swear — I swear, guys — I never saw the lil’ shit run faster than in that moment. Fuck, I wish I would’ve got that on video and sent it to Guinness World Records or some shit. He probably broke the sound barrier.”
The other five Losers were in stitches around them, unable to form coherent sentences. Even Eddie could barely speak, and Richie was ripping into him.
“Hey, asshole, it was terrifying,” he argued. “I swear to god, that dog had rabies.”
“It was a Pomeranian, first off, and it had just finished a bowl of whipped cream that you gave it!”
“I didn’t give it whipped cream.”
“No?”
“No! My bowl filled with whipped cream merely fell to the ground, and I was too slow at picking it up.”
Somehow, Eddie’s version of the story made Bev laugh harder. Richie was barely keeping his laughs contained, and a goofy smile was stretched across his face.
“I’m going to get another drink.” Eddie pushed Richie’s legs off of him and stood up from the couch. As soon as he did, he missed the warmth that came with cramming beside him.
Richie hooked his ankle around his before he could leave and threw a Poké Ball at him. It bounced against his stomach and rolled to the floor. Before he could ask what the fuck he was doing, Richie gave him a shit-eating grin.
“Caught you! I told ya’ — I gotta catch ‘em all!”
It was a stupid joke, but it made Eddie grin.
Fuck this. Fuck his dumb feelings. Fuck Richie Tozier and his cute face and his stupid jokes.
Eddie turned and made a break for it before he accidentally said something stupid in response. The further away he moved from Richie, the better. He needed time to refocus, and the drink table was his salvation.
Except, it wasn’t.
He was in the middle of pouring himself a glass of orange juice (which was definitely only at the party for mixing purposes) when a girl he didn’t know approached him.
“You two are cute, by the way!”
He barely heard her over the roaring music.
“What?”
When Eddie did make out what she was saying, he almost wished he couldn’t.
“You and your Ash! You two make a cute couple!”
Oh.
Oh, shit.
Oh, fuck.
Abort mission. Abort mission.
Eddie’s face felt exactly how it did after spending a whole day in the sun without sunblock. He was burning and—
Fuck!!! He knew this would happen!!!!!!
“Oh, uh, well—” He stumbled over his words, suddenly too shocked to make a full sentence. “We’re actually not dating — Ash and I.” He pointed to his yellow chest. “I know. Confusing! Right!?” His laughter was forced because dammit, it felt like he could explode from embarrassment.
(Not because someone mistook him for dating Richie, because, damn, that was the dream, but because he wanted to be dating Richie and now had to explain how he wasn’t. It was all too close to the feeling category for it not to be embarrassing.)
Eddie continued to speak. “We’re just wearing a couples costume because this is all we had. We’re not really together. He’s, uh… Well, he’s the Ash to my Pikachu… because they’re not romantic partners… because one’s an animal… and they’re fictional.”
The girl raised her eyebrow and took a long sip of her drink. Finally, she said, “well, you could’ve fooled me.”
What the fuck did that mean?!
By the time he made it back to the couch, he was still thinking about it.
His stomach was twisting because that random girl’s words could only mean one thing; he, Eddie Kaspbrak, was terrible at pretending not to love Richie Tozier.
It hit him like a punch to the gut.
He was too obvious with his feelings. He was flirting too much, smiling too hard, laughing too easily. If some random girl was convinced they were dating because of how big of a crush Eddie had on Richie, then he was fucked.
He sunk into the couch, his jaw slack and hands shaking. He needed to get a grip — on his response now, but also his massive crush on his roommate.
Within three seconds flat, Eddie came up with a set of rules to get him through this evening.
1) Don’t look at Richie. 2) Don’t think about how nice it is to have his arm around your shoulders. 3) Avoid physical contact at all costs. 4) Don’t laugh at any of his stupid jokes. 5) Insult him!!! Insult him to throw him off the scent!!!
It was a solid plan.
It lasted for approximately five minutes.
Richie was telling the story of the time he nearly got a concussion from trying to kill a spider in the shower, and it was getting harder and harder not to laugh, especially when he pulled out his silly voices.
Rule number 4! Rule number 4!
Richie laughed at his own joke and threw his head back from the force of it. Richie laughing was always endearing to Eddie; his whole body seemingly was thrown into it. His head would fly back, and his arms would wrap around his torso, and his knees would pull closer to his chest the slightest bit.
The corners of Eddie’s lips quirked up. His laugh was infectious — and that was the only infectious thing Eddie welcomed into his life.
Even after he finished laughing, Richie kept his head thrown back, a smile of sheer joy on his stupid face. The conversation continued on without them, moving to talk about Stan’s half-burned lab report from a Bunsen burner accident. Richie rolled his neck, shifting so his cheek was pressed against Eddie’s shoulder.
And there went rule number 3.
“You okay?” he asked, his voice softer than it was moments before. The intensity in his gaze made Eddie’s mouth run dry. “You seem… off.”
“I’m fine.” He hoped his smile didn’t look as forced as it felt. “Don’t worry about it.”
“We can go if you want?” Richie offered. “I think it’s passed your wittle bedtime.”
Eddie rolled his eyes, but couldn’t fight the smirk. Before he could respond, he remembered rule number 5.
Insult the shit out of him.
“The only thing ‘wittle’ between us is your dick.”
Yeah, what the fuck was that?
As soon as the words left his mouth, Eddie realized his grave mistake.
Richie’s eyes had widened and his head lifted off his shoulder, as if, he too, realized how massive of a mistake Eddie just made.
Eddie tried to backtrack.
“Not that your dick is between us.” Fuck, nope, that wasn’t the right thing to say. “Or little.” Nope, that wasn’t the right thing to say either. “But, I mean, it’s not like I’ve seen it because— Fuck. Never mind.” He admitted defeat and buried his face in his hands.
It took approximately three seconds for Richie to break the tension and burst out laughing.
“Jesus, Eds, how much have you had to drink?!”
Clearly, not enough.
.
After Eddie tried to drown himself in an ungodly amount of Kit Kats from Richie’s pocket, his resolve strengthened.
He would not fuck up anymore tonight! Richie was a bro-only zone. He was his best friend and roommate — nothing more! Richie + rules = success.
He wouldn’t laugh at his jokes. He wasn’t going to lean into his touches. He wasn’t going to smile at him like he hung the stars. He wasn’t going to—
It all went out the window when Richie wrapped his arms around Eddie’s middle and leaned into him.
“What the fuck, Richard?” His tone may have been harsher than he intended.
“I caught you,” he said, his voice muffled against his shoulder. “I threw a Poké Ball at you. You’re mine now. It’s the rules.”
“You already used the Poké Ball joke on me earlier, smart ass.”
Still, he made no move to push Richie off his shoulder. Maybe he could let rule number 3 slide. Just this once.
He couldn’t pull his gaze away from Richie’s face, either. He really loved him like this; soft, touchy, and carefree.
(Then again, he also loved the boy who earned the nickname Trashmouth, and picked fights he knew he couldn’t win, and swung bats at bullies.)
(He loved the fiery Richie, and the annoying Richie, and the stressed Richie, and the terrified Richie.)
(He loved his terrible sense of direction, and his late night dancing, and his ability to stub his toe on every piece of furniture they owned.)
(He loved him for his emotions, and for his heart, and yes even for his terrible jokes.)
(He loved Richie.)
(All of Richie.)
(Every Richie.)
Eddie’s jaw clenched and he shifted an inch away from Richie, his emotions suddenly hitting him so hard that it hurt.
The plan!!!! Remember the fucking plan!!!!!
“Like what you see?” Richie wiggled his eyebrows. “I know I’m pretty, but no need to stare, Eds.” Eddie jolted away from him and felt his heart lodge into his throat.
Richie caught him staring at him.
Fuck. Abort! Abort!
“Yeah, you’re pretty. Pretty fucking annoying.”
Richie grinned. “There he is! I was afraid my wittle dick scared you off.”
Eddie wanted to fade into the darkness.
“I thought we both agreed never to speak of that again.”
“I did no such thing.”
.
It happened again.
No, not the dick thing.
The ‘you’re a cute couple’ thing.
It was after the majority of the group went home, leaving Beverly, Ben, Richie, and Eddie to occupy a single couch. Why half the remaining group didn’t spread to the second couch was beyond him.
Someone he didn’t know slid into the couch opposite of them and launched into an in-depth conversation with Richie surrounding accuracy of historical events portrayed in some sort of video game.
Eddie couldn’t bring himself to even pretend to pay attention to what they were saying. All he could do was watch how Richie’s eyes lit up as he spoke, and how his lips would twist with each word, and how his nose wrinkled as he spoke, and how his gaze carried an intensity that made his heart pound, and—
“When did you two start dating?”
Eddie jolted away from Richie, putting as much space between them as possible (which, granted, wasn’t much considering they were trapped on this couch with Beverly and Ben).
“What?!” Eddie said quickly, his eyes wide and heart racing. “No. No, we’re not dating. We’re not together. Nope, no way.”
He never understood how his palms got so sweaty so quickly in these situations. He rubbed them on the yellow fabric along his legs vigorously.
“My sweet Eds,” Richie cooed as he leaned closer to him, his voice mockingly sweet.
Eddie wasn’t having it. He batted Richie’s face away from his own and scowled.
“No. We’re not dating.”
Richie pouted. “Is it because of my wittle dick—”
“I will punch you,” Eddie warned.
“But I wanna make you my luvah, Eds. My Eds Spagheds.” He turned to his friend. “Don’t listen to him, Johnathan. Eddie and I are very much together, confirmed by this awesome couples costume we are wearing.”
Eddie scowled and shoved Richie onto Beverly’s lap. “Fuck off, Richard.”
“I’m tellin’ it how it is! We’re two peas in a pod!”
The friend on the opposite couch gave them a wary smile. “Good, because, I mean, you two are practically dripping with sexual tension, and I was getting a little worried that I crossed a line and mentioned something I shouldn’t have, but I assumed it was fine because you’re wearing a couples costume for fuck sake, and—”
“No!” Eddie sat as straight as he could manage it. His heart was pounding in his chest. His cheeks felt like they were on fire. Because fuck you, Johnathan, you did mention something you shouldn’t have!!!! “Richie is fucking with you. We aren’t together, or lovers, or whatever other shit he said. We’re just friends. That’s all we are, all we have been, and all we ever will be.” To really drive home the point, he stuck his nose in the air. “Thank god! I mean, does anyone ever see me dating that!?”
Finally sticking to the plan! Eddie thought triumphantly. Now they really won’t think I’m into Richie. Ha! I wi— Wait, why the fuck is Richie running out of the room?
Richie had pushed off of the couch and took off towards the backdoor without another word. While Eddie couldn’t see his face, he knew exactly what he was feeling from a single glance at him. Tense body, shaking shoulders, uncharacteristically silent—
He was mad. Or upset. Or both.
“Wait, where’s Richie going?” He turned to Beverly, who was staring at him with parted lips. “What happened?”
“I love you, Eddie, but sometimes you’re such a dumbass.”
Eddie quickly ran through what he said moments before and immediately realized his mistake. In his rush to throw everyone off his scent, he insulted Richie.
“Oh, fuck.”
Eddie was quick to follow Richie outside. It was colder out now than before and the only light cast on the street came from a dimly lit street lamp. He caught sight of him across the street, already starting to make the journey back home.
Eddie wanted to hit his head against the nearest brick wall. He was an idiot.
“Richie!” he called, jogging after him. The other man didn’t turn when he called his name. Hell, he didn’t even flinch! Eddie pumped his legs faster. “Richie, wait up. Rich! Richie!” He finally caught up with him, but hovered a few paces away. “Where are you going? What happened?”
He very well knew what happened, but those were the first words out of his mouth.
“Not now, Eddie. I’m going home. I’ll talk to you later.” He didn’t turn to look at him.
Eddie was terrified — he doubted he had ever been more terrified than in that moment. Seeing Richie walking away from him, clearly hurt, scared him.
“Richie, I’m sorry.” He reached forward and caught hold of his elbow. Richie jolted it out of his grasp, making hurt flare up in Eddie’s chest. “I didn’t mean to insult you, I just—” He shook his head. “I’m sorry. I’m sure anyone would love to date you.”
Just saying those words out loud made Eddie’s stomach role. Not anyone. Him. He wanted to be dating him.
Finally, Richie stopped walking. He spun around to face Eddie, his face screwed up with emotions. Eddie could see anger in there — it was the way his shoulders were hunched together and his fists closed at his sides — but he could see hurt too. Definitely hurt.
“Do you really think I’m upset because I thought you were implying I was undateable?” His voice was rough and thick with emotion. Eddie’s chest felt like it was going to cave in.
Richie was holding back tears.
“I— What? I mean… Of course? Why else are you upset about?”
Richie opened and closed his mouth several times, but no words followed. Eddie shifted back and forth on his feet, waiting for the shoe to drop.
Finally, he spoke. He sounded so tired and so done. “You know what? Never mind, Eddie. That’s why I’m upset. Of course I’m upset because I’m undateable! Not because of any other reason. You’re so right.”
Eddie narrowed his eyes. “I’m not stupid, Richard, and can smell your sarcasm.” That didn’t make the most sense, but neither one of them were in the mood to point that out. “I want to make up for what I said, but I can’t if you won’t tell me! If it isn’t because I insulted you, then… what? What’s wrong?”
“‘We’re just friends. That’s all we are, all we have been, and all we ever will be,’” Richie said, throwing Eddie’s earlier words right back in his face. Eddie had to suppress a flinch hearing them come from Richie’s mouth.
They hurt.
He swallowed thickly. “Well, it’s the truth, isn’t it? We’re… We’re just friends.”
Richie rubbed the bridge of his nose and tilted his head to glance at the night sky. After a long moment, he spoke. “I know. You love reminding me of that fact.” He sighed and locked eyes with Eddie. “It’s okay. I’m just being… me. Go back in and have fun.”
“You’re fucking kidding,” he said hotly. “I’m not leaving you when you’re clearly upset, and especially not for a Halloween party.” He stepped closer. “I care about you, Rich, and I want to help. I’m sorry that I upset you, and I really want to—”
“I love you.” The words froze Eddie to the ground. Richie’s eyes widened, like he, too, was surprised by them. “I— Fuck. Forget it.” He shook his head. “You know what? No! I said it. I mean it. I love you, Eddie. I’m in love with you. I love you so much that it hurts, and I know that’s ridiculous, but it’s true. And… And I get it, okay? I know you’re not interested. I know we’re just friends — you don’t need to remind me every five minutes, by the way, — but I’m so in love with you, Eddie. And—”
“Wait, hold the fuck up.” Eddie held his hand up, palm towards Richie. His fingers were shaking. He was sure his heart was about to give out from how fast it was racing. His mouth was inexplicably dry. “You— You love me?”
Richie’s eyes were wide. “Uhm… I— I—”
Eddie couldn’t tell anyone where the confidence came from, but he stepped forward, closing the distance between the two of them. The air left his lungs. He struggled to find the words, but he decided he didn’t really need words for this moment. And, finally—
He surged forward, capturing Richie’s lips with his own. The kiss was short and shallow — it was more of a brush of the lips than a kiss, if he was being honest — but it made his head spin.
Eddie pulled away, his eyes wide and his breath coming out in small pants. His hands were clutching at the collar of Richie’s blue and white shirt. His legs felt weak under him.
His eyes scanned Richie’s face, taking in the slight part to his lips, and the flush of his cheeks, and the wideness of his eyes. He was looking at Eddie in pure shock, and that was when he found his voice again.
“Richie, I love you, too.”
A long beat of silence passed between them before Richie’s head dipped down. Their lips connected for another kiss — this one much longer and sweeter than before. Richie’s hands cupped the side of Eddie’s face, cradling it gently. His ached from the amount of love and affection he had for the man in front of him.
The kiss stole all the air from Eddie’s lungs and all the thoughts from Eddie’s mind. When Richie pulled away, his lips were curled into a wide smile — a true, genuine smile that made his eyes crinkle and seemingly reached into Eddie’s chest and squeezed his heart.
He shook his head, his dark curls bobbing across his forehead. Richie gestured exuberantly towards the house they both ran from. “What the fuck was thaaaaaat!?”
Eddie stepped out of Richie’s grasp, his hands flying into his hair, panicking to hell. “Shit! I was trying to throw you off my trail! You know, like, try to be a dick to you so you don’t think I’m totally into you! Which I am, by the way — totally into you — like an embarrassing amount. And I just—”
“You, Eddie Kaspbrak, are a huge asshole and I love you for it.” Richie stepped forward wearing a silly grin. The hand that had been tenderly holding Eddie’s cheek booped Eddie on the nose.
“What the fuck, Rich?” He wrinkled his nose. Richie didn’t pay any mind to Eddie’s reaction — he pulled the shorter man into a crushing hug and rested his head on top of his.
“I caught you, Eds. You’re my lil’ Pikachu.”
Eddie scowled. “You’re a loser. I’m in love with a loser.”
And he wouldn’t have it any other way.
198 notes
·
View notes
Note
I'm re reading IT right now (slowly, as adult life is getting in the way) and was wondering what other bad storytelling choices you thought king made besides the. Uh. Sewer scene? Its been years since ive read it and nothing else really stood out to me as poor storytelling that i can remember. I'll read it for myself eventually but was curious of your thoughts. Love your blog!
Thanks! Stephen King often veers into caricature with his supporting characters, and It is no exception. The way he describes Eddie’s mom and wife physically goes well beyond the narratively useful purpose of establishing how their weight disorders have intertwined with Eddie’s hypochondria and into “ugh fat people are gross” territory. I don’t think King has conscious malignance in this area, because he finds a proper balance with Ben: the latter describes in realistic detail how he lost weight over time, his mom is upset that he’s eating less but is presented humanely (as someone who associates her son eating a lot with her doing well as a single mother), and King manages to avoid shaming Ben for his weight while also acknowledging that Ben personally feels a lot better about himself after having shed it–or rather, because of the confidence he gained in himself by taking charge of the situation. The idea here is not “Ben needs to lose weight because gross” but rather “Ben needs to be in control of his body.”
The good doesn’t wipe out the bad, nor vice versa; gotta consider them both in context. Main characters are naturally going to get more nuance than supporting characters, but necessary shorthand can easily turn into harmful caricature. And of course, a storytelling choice that seems solid in isolation can become a problem within the work as a whole. Beverly is sexualized throughout It in a way that’s often very unpleasant to read, associated throughout with violence and misogyny. Sometimes this works, as a way of peeling back the layers of petty ego driving a man’s man like her husband Tom; he explodes at her in their introductory scene because her paying attention to Mike’s call instead of him makes him feel like he’s literally not there. Other times it doesn’t, like when King lingers on the “smell” that Bev and her father “make together” now that she’s reaching puberty. We don’t need that to get the point that Bev’s father has inappropriate feelings for her–we got that from Bev’s mom asking if he ever touches her. When you put both sides of the coin together with the infamous sex scene in the sewers and the amount of time spent on whether Bev will choose Ben or Bill, it starts to look less like King was taking a stand against objectification by showing its omnipresence than that he simply didn’t know what to do with Bev as a character without constantly making reference to sex, rape, assault, and molestation. While she does get some right to response on these matters, I don’t think it’s nearly enough. It pushes back against a mindset that casually treats women like objects, but fails to establish a counter-narrative rooted in the female characters as individuals, fleshed out beyond their relationships to the men around them. It’s less a question of Does Stephen King Hate Women than one of imagination and empathy.
Of course, some flaws are lessened by context, rather than enhanced by it. Take, for example, our protagonist William Denbrough, a blatant author insert. Bill is a popular horror author (check) whose books are increasingly being adapted for TV and film (check) and who has a rather tense relationship with critics and academics (double check). The latter is spelled out in an extended flashback to Bill’s college days, in which he takes a stand that ought to be very familiar to anyone steeped in modern media discourse:
Here is a poor boy from the state of Maine who goes to the University on a scholarship. All his life he has wanted to be a writer, but when he enrolls in the writing courses he finds himself lost without a compass in a strange and frightening land. There’s one guy who wants to be Updike. There’s another one who wants to be a New England version of Faulkner-only he wants to write novels about the grim lives of the poor in blank verse. There’s a girl who admires Joyce Carol Gates but feels that because Oates was nurtured in a sexist society she is “radioactive in a literary sense.” Oates is unable to be clean, this girl says. She will be cleaner. There’s the short fat grad student who can’t or won’t speak above a mutter. This guy has written a play in which there are nine characters. Each of them says only a single word. Little by little the playgoers realize that when you put the single words together you come out with “War is the tool of the sexist death merchants.” This fellow’s play receives an A from the man who teaches Eh-141 (Creative Writing Honors Seminar). This instructor has published four books of poetry and his master’s thesis, all with the University Press. He smokes pot and wears a peace medallion. The fat mutterer’s play is produced by a guerrilla theater group during the strike to end the war which shuts down the campus in May of 1970. The instructor plays one of the characters.
Bill Denbrough, meanwhile, has written one locked-room mystery tale, three science-fiction stories, and several horror tales which owe a great deal to Edgar Allan Poe, H. P. Lovecraft, and Richard Matheson-in later years he will say those stories resembled a mid-1800s funeral hack equipped with a supercharger and painted Day-Glo red.
One of the sf tales earns him a B.
“This is better,” the instructor writes on the title page. “In the alien counterstrike we see the vicious circle in which violence begets violence; I particularly liked the “needle-nosed” spacecraft as a symbol of socio-sexual incursion. While this remains a slightly confused undertone throughout, it is interesting.”
All the others do no better than a C.
Finally he stands up in class one day, after the discussion of a sallow young woman’s vignette about a cow’s examination of a discarded engine block in a deserted field (this may or may not be after a nuclear war) has gone on for seventy minutes or so. The sallow girl, who smokes one Winston after another and picks occasionally at the pimples which nestle in the hollows of her temples, insists that the vignette is a socio-political statement in the manner of the early Orwell. Most of the class-and the instructor-agree, but still the discussion drones on.
When Bill stands up, the class looks at him. He is tail, and has a certain presence.
Speaking carefully, not stuttering (he has not stuttered in better than five years), he says: “I don’t understand this at all. I don’t understand any of this. Why does a story have to be socio-anything? Politics… culture… history… aren’t those natural ingredients in any story, if it’s told well? I mean… ” He looks around, sees hostile eyes, and realizes dimly that they see this as some sort of attack. Maybe it even is. They are thinking, he realizes, that maybe there is a sexist death merchant in their midst. “I mean… can’t you guys just let a story be a story?”
No one replies. Silence spins out. He stands there looking from one cool set of eyes to the next. The sallow girl chuffs out smoke and snubs her cigarette in an ashtray she has brought along in her backpack.
Finally the instructor says softly, as if to a child having an inexplicable tantrum, “do you believe William Faulkner was ‘just telling stories’? Do you believe Shakespeare was just interested in making a buck? Come now, Bill. Tell us what you think.”
“I think that’s pretty close to the truth,” Bill says after a long moment in which he honestly considers the question, and in their eyes he reads a kind of damnation.
“I suggest,” the instructor says, toying with his pen and smiling at Bill with half-lidded eyes, “that you have a great deal to learn.”
The applause starts somewhere in the back of the room.
Bill leaves… but returns the next week, determined to stick with it. In the time between he has written a story called “The Dark,” a tale about a small boy who discovers a monster in the cellar of his house. The little boy faces it, battles it, finally kills it. He feels a land of holy exaltation as he goes about the business of writing this story; he even feels that he is not so much telling the story as he is allowing the story to flow through him. At one point he puts his pen down and takes his hot and aching hand out into ten-degree December cold where it nearly smokes from the temperature change. He walks around, green cut-off boots squeaking in the snow like tiny shutter-hinges which need oil, and his head seems to bulge with the story; it is a little scary, the way it needs to get out. He feels that if it cannot escape by way of his racing hand that it will pop his eyes out in its urgency to escape and be concrete. “Going to knock the shit out of it,” he confides to the blowing winter dark, and laughs a little-a shaky laugh. He is aware that he has finally discovered how to do just that-after ten years of trying he has suddenly found the starter button on the vast dead bulldozer taking up so much space inside his head. It has started up. It is revving, revving. It is nothing pretty, this big machine. It was not made for taking pretty girls to proms. It is not a status symbol. It means business. It can knock things down. If he isn’t careful, it will knock him down.
He rushes inside and finishes “The Dark” at white heat, writing until four o'clock in the morning and finally falling asleep over his ring-binder. If someone had suggested to him that he was really writing about his brother, George, he would have been surprised. He has not thought about George in years-or so he honestly believes.
The story comes back from the instructor with an F slashed into the tide page. Two words are scrawled beneath, in capital letters. PULP, screams one. CRAP, screams the other.
Bill takes the fifteen-page sheaf of manuscript over to the wood-stove and opens the door. He is within a bare inch of tossing it in when the absurdity of what he is doing strikes him. He sits down in his rocking chair, looks at a Grateful Dead poster, and starts to laugh. Pulp? Fine! Let it be pulp! The woods were full of it!
“Let them fucking trees fall!” Bill exclaims, and laughs until tears spurt from his eyes and roll down his face.
He retypes the title page, the one with the instructor’s judgment on it, and sends it off to a men’s magazine named White Tie (although from what Bill can see, it really should be titled Naked Girls Who Look Like Drug Users). Yet his battered Writer’s Market says they buy horror stories, and the two issues he has bought down at the local mom-and-pop store have indeed contained four horror stories sandwiched between the naked girls and the ads for dirty movies and potency pills. One of them, by a man named Dennis Etchison, is actually quite good.
He sends “The Dark” off with no real hopes-he has submitted a good many stories to magazines before with nothing to show for it but rejection slips-and is flabbergasted and delighted when the fiction editor of White Tie buys it for two hundred dollars, payment on publication. The assistant editor adds a short note which calls it “the best damned horror story since Ray Bradbury’s "The Jar.” He adds, “Too bad only about seventy people coast to coast will read it,” but Bill Denbrough does not care. Two hundred dollars!
He goes to his advisor with a drop card for Eh-141. His advisor initials it. Bill Denbrough staples the drop card to the assistant fiction editor’s congratulatory note and tacks both to the bulletin board on the creative-writing instructor’s door. In the corner of the bulletin board he sees an anti-war cartoon. And suddenly, as if moving of its own accord, his fingers pluck his pen from his breast pocket and across the cartoon he writes this: If fiction and politics ever really do become interchangeable, I’m going to kill myself, because I won’t know what else to do. You see, politics always change. Stories never do. He pauses, and then, feeling a bit small (but unable to help himself), he adds: I suggest you have a lot to learn.
You can easily imagine this argument–a timeless appeal is being ruined by lefty college kids and their postmodern analyses–being made today by an alt-right YouTuber out to cleanse the game industry of SJWs. Throughout It, King keeps cutting back to an image of a librarian reading “The Billy Goats Gruff” to a group of kids, the latter enthralled (King tells us) by the primal purity of the kind of monster stories upon which both King and Denbrough have built their careers. “Will the monster be bested…or will It feed?” That’s King declaring that Bill’s his professors were wrong to wave aside his short horror stories. See? See?! I made it, and you pretentious eggheads were wrong to ever doubt me! This aspect of It is frankly embarrassing, especially as time marches on and we see how this mindset has taken root in the next generation.
But! While King very clearly believes this stuff, he’s also self-aware enough to include auto-critiques in his writing. Stan’s wife Patty picks up one of Bill’s novels and dismisses it as practically pornographic in its horror imagery. King goes too far in casting Patty’s dislike of Bill’s work as reflecting a lack of imagination on her part, but he then goes on to sympathetically explore how the grounded relatable struggles Patty has faced (anti-Semitism, her father mocking and dismissing Stan, their inability to have children) have led her to consider “horrorbooks” as shallow escapism. The real world, It admits, has horrors beyond anything the Kings and Denbroughs can come up with. “Werewolves, shit. What did a man like that know about werewolves?”
Later on, when Ben is telling his triumphant story about calling out a high school coach who taunted him for his weight, Bill gently notes that as an author, he has trouble believing any kid really talked like that. That’s King using his self-insert to wryly poke fun at his own oft-overheated dialogue. Self-awareness and self-deprecation are absolutely vital to making a book as thematically and structurally ambitious as this one work.
And while some of It’s politics make me cringe, other aspects make me perk up and take notice. King wrote It over the course of four years in which HIV and AIDS became a national crisis that was being largely ignored by said nation’s government. There was a growing conventional wisdom that the afflicted deserved their punishment and should be more or less left to rot. This was all part and parcel with the ascension of the religious right in American politics, especially within the Reagan White House. A huge part of the Reagan narrative (as we see in the “Morning in America” ad, also released while King was writing It) was a portrait of lily-white small-town America as a social ideal being beset by all sorts of ills that the left was either letting happen or actively supporting, and The Gays were most certainly among them.
It opens with a scene that seems to dovetail with that narrative: an idealized ‘50s small town in which an adorable innocent white boy from a good Christian family is horribly murdered by (what seems to be) a nightmarish external force that takes advantage of that innocence. Already, you can see a potential Reaganite spin–It as the Other, the “bear in the woods” threatening the ideal of Derry.
But that’s not what It is about. The second chapter jumps forward a generation, into the mid-1980s in which King was writing, and onto a scene of violence that cannot be wrapped into the meta-narrative of the religious right. Three men attack a gay man on a bridge, their delicate sensibilities offended by his flamboyance. They beat him within an inch of his life and toss him over the side…where he finds It waiting for him with a gleaming sharp-toothed smile. Both the victim’s boyfriend and one of the assailants tell the cops and lawyers involved about the demon clown who finished the victim off, but the powers that be cover it up for the sake of a successful prosecution.
The idea being that they’re dealing with the symptoms, not the disease–the violence, but not the hand-me-down hate driving it. The bereft boyfriend tells the cops that he tried to warn his new-to-town lover that despite its cheery appearance, Derry is a “bad place,” one positively crawling with “AIDS is God’s punishment” homophobia. Moreover, he whispers through his tears, he realized while staring into Its silver eyes as It ate his true love that “It was Derry…It was this town.”
So while the first chapter seemingly wrapped the era’s conservative politics in a cozy semiotic blanket, it was only baiting the hook so that the second can rip that blanket off like a Band-Aid. As Reagan strolled to re-election with 49 states at his back, as the Democrats’ convictions wavered and they began to drift rightward, as thousands of Americans wasted away while their government and so many of their fellow citizens watched pitilessly, here comes Stevie King to stick his middle finger in the Moral Majority’s face and say: gays aren’t the monsters, you are the monsters, you are the ones eating your children. He built a thousand-page Lovecraftian epic around that idea, and made it a bestseller. How fucking awesome is that?
Again, it’s all always going to be complicated. The good not only coexists with the bad–they’re often inextricable. The author who slipped a rant against leftist academics ruinin’ his storybooks into It is also the guy who now declares his support for BLM and his disgust for Trump, and It is both a deeply flawed work and one of my very favorite novels.
111 notes
·
View notes