#and somehow we get to eddie like crying and kind of lost looking and saying i know you might love him but I love him.

[try-set-me-on-fire]

Beating back more fic ideas with a stick

[loserdiaz]

"i don't remember how she smelt." chris says on one of their visits to shannon's grave. it's her birthday and eddie brought some flowers and they're sitting on the grass, just talking to her as if she were there.

"what do you mean?"

"i remember i really liked her perfume." chris whispers, looking down. his fingers are playing with the grass and he sounds— sad, nostalgic. eddie wishes he could take all of his pain away, but knows he can't. "but i tried to think about it the other day and i— i don't remember how she used to smell."

chris sniffles and eddie moves closer to him, resting an arm over his son's shoulders. "well, kiddo, i do. you mind if i tell you about her?"

"i would really like that."

"when we started dating, i bought this perfume her on a second hand store." eddie smiles, small and barely there. "i was just a kid, you know? i didn't have that much money and my parents wouldn't give me more for a present for her. so, i took all of my savings— which weren't a lot at the time— and bought her some cheap perfume, and her favorite chocolates." eddie gets a little lost in the memory.

"i thought she would be mad at me. the gifts weren't much, definitely less than she deserved— but somehow she loved them. she wouldn't stop using the perfume i bought, even when her mom gave her a way better and fancier one." eddie chuckles wetly, realising some time during his story he started crying. "and when i got it at the store, it smelt fine i guess... but your mom? on her, it smelt like—" he hesitates and thinks about it. "i guess it smelt the same but just because it was her it was better, does that make sense?"

"not really but i think i know what you mean." chris looks up at him. "that was her perfume."

"yeah, she never stopped using it." eddie grins. "it was floral and freshy, it reminded me of summers in texas, to be honest."

"do you miss her?" chris asks.

eddie hesitates once again— his marriage wouldn't have lasted and he was angry at her for a long time.

but.

"yeah, i miss her." eddie replies honestly. "i can't tell you if we would still be together but— she was my friend and i miss that."

a breeze passes by them and eddie doesn't believe in that kind of stuff but it almost feels like shannon letting them know she missed them too.

"we're gonna be okay, kid." chris murmurs and eddie kisses the top of his head.

"yeah, mijo. we're gonna be okay."

[florallylly]

side b: steve harrington

side a side a: eddie munson

side b

explanation post

FORGET THE FORMATTING!!! PLS BE QUIET!!! anyways into steve harrington. his playlist is SAUR bubblegum lesbian pop. and tbh i really tried to kind of blend new/old in side a with eddie and make it smth MAYBE he would listen to? but steve, i automatically pegged him as 80s pop and lesbian music like. you probably listen to bruce springsteen but in my heart u know who rina sawayama is. anyways yes steve harrington coping through partying and then falling in lurv.

YES he admits it as soon as it happens bc he's emotionally intelligent and he knows himself thank u for coming to my ted talk

“Perfect Places” Lorde; “Have another drink, get lost in us/this is how we get notorious” “Every night, I live and die/meet somebody, take ‘em home” YEAH…. steve harrington coping post season-2 and stancy break up by  partying and drinking and sleeping around. like i see it…. i was there and it’s so. desperation to find peace and eventually settling for oblivion bc nothing is better than everything 

“Heaven/Hell” CHVRCHES; this song is so steve harrington to me i can’t even describe…. like it’s so disillusionment with his former sense of self and what he used to attach importance to. and he feels like a fraud and also an imposter, surrounded by people who he’s outgrown. and somehow it also feels like no one has truly realized that vital shift. it’s SAUR “is it right if i’m a perfect actress/playing the princess in distress?” “is it alright if i save myself and/if i clean up my own mess” IDK. why is that so steve to me. 

“Stand Back” Stevie Nicks; like LIKE this song is so everyone wants me except for you/you’re the only one i want. idk…. steve harrington this is so you to me. he is so pining he is so what if he is so i built our future in my head and now everything is crumbling down around me. you have changed me so deeply that i can never go back to the same person i was before i met you. and the world around me stays stagnant and stuck in time, with me out like a sore thumb. like i’m sobbing crying frothing at the mouth…. 

“Head Over Heels/Broken” Tears for Fears; a classic… a classic… but also like a little mashup moment to make it narratively appropriate in my head. also the applause at the end is giving the curtains are down the performance is over… king steve lays down his crown… AM I INSANE IN THIS MOMENT… 

“Honey Understand” Noso; to me this is a little bit of a moment like if i’m misinterpreting this song wrong SO embarrassing. but literally?? i think it’s so steve… bc it’s like in any break up it’s always going to be him at fault because he’s the ladies man and the popular jerk. he’s always going to be made out to be a villain in certain people’s eyes. like what am i even saying but you get it right… and it’s like how can i even keep fighting when i’m already crumbling apart. but also you’ll never know bc i’ll never let anyone know how bad it is … i’m unwell 

“Deliverance” CHVRCHES; i think this is actually about religion (maybe?) but i’m thinking of it as more of a general framework or life view that steve held before the upside down. he’s had to rethink what’s important and what matters like fr…. and now that he’s spending more time with eddie and realizing things about… naur it’s like this moment is his watershed moment and he’s being set free of smth like… his king steve persona?? his guilt over barb?? any other head canon ??? or maybe it’s like his fucked up coping viewed as something that’s bringing him back to his “normal” self… like back 2 parties back 2 alcoholism 

“Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! (A Man After Midnight” ABBA; like YEAH of course this song is on here. and it’s so hello steve harrington are you on the prowl are you looking for something so you can actually feel something

“Take Me Home Tonight” Eddie Money; pretty self explanatory like… steve harrington you are turning to sex to distract yourself and chasing the way you felt before. also in comparison to gimme gimme gimme, this is a more self aware reflection like. post nut clarity. but also in my head this is steve harrington meeting with eddie munson s2 and making the impulsive decision to follow him literally anywhere, kick starting everything that follows. 

“Yours” Now, Now; attraction bantering cockiness like it’s all there like it’s everything… it’s everything…. 

“Untouched” The Veronicas, I DON’T CARE IF IT DOESN’T FIT … this song is so important to me and it’s saur…. steve harrington you are getting attached steve harrington you are falling in love. to be clear this is before they get together or do anything like…. this is the pining this is the wanting 

“Don’t You Want Me” The Human League; so basically added for vibes, didn’t pay much attention to the lyrics and meaning. IT’S JUST SO …. 80s pop and 80s pop is so steve. HOWEVER i feel like i can use this as my little soap box bc “you were working as a waitress in a cocktail bar… turned you int someone new/now five years later on, you’ve got the world at your feet” is saur nancy and “the five years we have had have been such good at times, I still love you/ but now, i think it’s time i lived my life on my own” is SAUR steve. like nancy wheeler in s4 reflecting on steve’s changes and the fandom’s reflection of pushing this narrative that nancy was the main reason and the greatest influence on steve’s change. my pet peeve…. let’s not forget the trauma he went through that could have shook his entire worldview. also ??? he’s a big boy with his own thoughts let him have a little ponder. i would add more but i’m not capable of totally explaining this at all JUST !!! ugh but yeah steve harrington you are attracted to eddie munson song

“Forever Tonight” Kelechi; “love me like there’s no tomorrow/kiss me like we’re out of time” DO I EVEN NEED TO SAY ANYTHING??? I AM IN REAL PAIN!!! 

“I Was Made For Lovin’ You” KISS; KEYSTONE SONG. yes they fucked yes they fucked. and OKAY idc if it’s cheesy YOU try to fit in a semi-metal song into your 80s/lesbian pop playlist

“Lay All Your Love On Me” ABBA; OMG …. it is so necessary. that is all. LIKE SO NEEDED. 

“Hungry Eyes” Eric Carmen; it’s literally from dirty dancing like what else can i say… steve harrington is having his little romcom moment. honestly he’s practically one of the brat pack. he’s LIVING it he’s living it

“Keep on Loving You” REO Speedwagon; okay they were killing on anniversaries i just know it. like this is so my parent’s wedding. it’s so puffed sleeve dresses and slow dancing at prom and steve is a ROMANTIC. steve is a ROMANTIC in a small midwest town like. where was his prom king moment 

“Seven Wonders” Fleetwood Mac; lowkey a filler song but yes can anything compare to the beauty of this moment something very romantic. this is on the mixtape for sure 

“(Don’t Fear) The Reaper” Blue Oyster Cult; ONCE AGAIN I KNOW IT DOESNT FIT THAT WELL… but this is a keystone song… a metal song forcefully inserted into the playlist. this is supposed to mark the point where steve falls in love love. but what i got from the song is basically like. we’re going to die anyways let’s just fall in love. i’m sure that’s way simplistic but vibe… 

“Horses” Maggie Rogers; sorry I’m…. gay….? and it’s like it’s like it’s like i wanna be free i wanna be free with you do you wanna be free with me. in a more romantic and AHHHH way but like how do i even begin to try and describe how this song makes me feel like… unreal. but it’s also like a little stop for steve to doubt and think about what he’s feeling and deciding to do ??? idk where i was going with that. but yes my little interlude for pondering

“Black Butterflies and Deja Vu (Acoustic)” The Maine; keystone song keystone song. when steve admits he is in lurv of course. chose the acoustic version bc i feel like it fits better and also i think it’s more of a soft realization for steve rather than the absolute car wreck that is eddie. please understand my thoughts immediately 

[thaliasandy]

Slightly smutty Hellcheer headcanon:

"Studies have linked violent behavior to the game, saying it promotes satanic worship, ritual sacrifice, sodomy, suicide, and even... Murder."

They're sitting in the back of Eddie's van, the radio's playing in the background; It's comfy, there are blankets and a couple of cushions and Chrissy feels herself blush wondering what he usually does in here. While he's expertly rolling a joint, she picks up the magazine with the Dungeons and Dragons article and reads it, when she closes the magazine again she's kind of fidgety almost nervous.

"Spit it out, Princess, What is it?"

He asks, taking a drag from the joint before passing it to her.

"Oh um...is it true what it says in here?"

She inhales the smoke deep into her lungs like he'd shown her and tries not to cough.

"Well I don't sacrifice innocent little virgins, now do I?"

He gives her an evil teasing grin and she playfully slaps his chest.

She gets chatty when she's high and the last time they smoked together she'd embarrassedly told him that she didnt go all the way with Jason yet, not for lack of trying on Jason's part though.

Eddie was far from an expert at sex himself, he'd made out with a couple of people, lost his virginity to Tammy Thompson two years ago, saw his fair share of porn magazines and videos and got a blow job in his car, from a flirty college girl that had somehow got lost at the Hideout with her friends a couple months ago;

So he'd reassured Chrissy that there's nothing wrong with waiting for the right moment ,with him, he thought, not with Carver, knowing that that would never happen, that The queen of Hawkins High would never let a trailer trash, drug dealing, DnD playing loser like him defile her.

"That's not what I meant! That other thing..."

"Huh? The murder? Yeah haven't killed anyone either...yet"

He still smirks, the deep pink blush spreading all over her face tells him exactly what she's refering to but he enjoys teasing her a bit too much.

"Stooooop! You know what I mean...isnt that....like...really painful?"

She leans in close and is almost whispering as if anyone can overhear, despite them sitting in his car, next to lovers lake, while it's raining outside and not a soul is in sight.

"I mean I've never been on the recieving end... or the giving for that matter, but I guess it can feel really good for both partners if the guy is careful and knows what he's doing..."

He feels his own face burning now and doesn't know if it's the weed making him lightheaded or his blood flow being diverted away from his brain. He adjusts the way he sits, hoping she doesn't notice.

"But maybe don't ask Jason to...you know, do that with you..."

"You think he wouldn't know how to make it good for me?"

She looks at him with her big blue innocent eyes as if she didnt just ask him about anal sex.

"Pfff I'm sure he doesn't know how to make you feel good in general but can we please stop talking about Carver fuck-...about this asshole doing anything with you?" 

"Sorry...didnt wanna make you angry"

The mood just went from playful to ice cold. He holds out the joint to her but she's staring at her hands, fiddling with a loose thread on the hem of her cheer skirt.

Eddie gently brushes his knuckles along her upper arm and offers her the joint again when she looks at him.

"Hey I'm not angry...just don't want to think about you having sex is all."

She stares at him, bottom lip quivering, hardly able to hold back her tears, swallowing the lump in her throat and Eddie's confused how they ended up here, things were going so well and now she's almost crying and he's not even sure what he did wrong.

"I know I'm not much to look at but you don't have to be so mean about it."

"Oh shit! Chrissy, that's not what I meant!" He can't help but chuckle at the absurdity of this situation,

"Look, I'm a simple man, you keep talking about getting' and he lowers his voice and leans in as if he's letting her in on a secret, the way she did earlier' "some back door action, I'm going to think about it and I'll have a bit of a problem here..."

He vaguely gestures towards his crotch. Chrissy's eyes go wide when she realizes.

"Oh...oh!!!...you mean...Oh my god I'm sorry...wait...because of me?"

"Yeah... you're driving me crazy, isnt that obvious?"

"So you ARE into that?" She giggles and he's just glad she's not crying anymore.

God he loves the sound of her giggling, he runs his hand over his face shaking his head.

"Chrissy Cunningham, people would think you're a real freak if they knew about your new found interest in sodomy"

He says the last word in this deep, almost growl- like voice he sometimes uses when playing DnD , and he didn't expect that kind of reaction but he's delighted to see the shiver that runs through her. Eddie leans against the back of the driver seat, one of his long legs streched out in front of him the other slightly bent, still trying to not put his semi hard dick too much on display.

"You're not going to tell anyone, right?"

"Of course not, Princess, it's our dirty little secret."

He was just trying to be funny but her breathless little gasp and the way she looks at him, like this is the most exciting thing that ever happened to her, her pupils dilated so far her eyes almost look black, before she crawls over and snuggles against him like a fucking kitten, like they usually do once the high sets in, make him realize he probably could get into her proverbial pants right now, if only he was a bit more of an asshole.

"Do you...do you need help with that?"

She murmurs into his Hellfire club shirt, her fingers trace a path down his chest until they're dangerously close to waistband of his pants.

The frustrated groan that slips out of his lips before he gently grasps her hand and links their fingers together, sends another shiver through Chrissy's body. He doesn't want to turn her down... HOLY FUCK does he want to feel those dainty fingers wrapped around his cock but everything about this feels wrong, not in a hot, 'doing something forbidden' kind of way but in a 'she might regret this later and never speak a single word with him again' way.

"We shouldn't be doing this, Sweetheart,  not tonight... but if you still want to ...next time we meet, we can. Is that alright for you?"

She looks up into his mesmerizing brown eyes and nods excitedly, this is so wildly different than what she's used to with Jason she can feel herself fall head over heels in love with this boy.

[turvi]

Come Get Your Funky Lovestory-4

Eddie Brock x F !reader

Summary: Y/n gets protective when Peter gets attacked by Venom. Eddie can't help but flirt with Y/n

Credits to Owner. GIF NOT MINE.

"What happened?" I went to visit Peter in his dorm to find him bruised up. He has had a rough week. He has still not made progress with MJ and Ned and two days ago he cried on the call saying how much he misses his Aunt May.

It broke my heart to listen to him cry like that. I have only known him since the civil war that broke out between Tony and Steve where I choked him (it was an accident, he was annoying me with his webs).

I couldn't help but grow a soft spot for the boy ever since I got to know him. I have started to feel protective of him ever since the Mysterio event, the multiverse event, and obviously the fact that I see glimpses of my son Abel in him. He looks at me the same way Abel looked at me. Maybe it's the guilt that I couldn't save my son, which is the reason I feel guilty for not being able to save him. Maybe it is my fault.

"It is not your fault Y/n" I look at him wide-eyed, jaw slacked. How does he know what I am thinking?

"How- what?"

He lightly chuckles at my reaction

"I think I have known you long enough to know you overthink, also because I remember how one time you got shampoo in your eyes and thought you were going to go blind"

I frowned jokingly "You know I was right to worry my eyes were red"

We sat there in comfortable silence when I decided to speak up again

"Tell me Peter who was it"

He looked down at his socked feet biting his lips. Why was he hesitating to tell me? "It was the same parasite you were talking about. He looks very dangerous Y/n, I somehow managed to escape, please stop looking for it."

"Pete, you jumped on a ship to help Tony fight Thanos why are you scared of this alien?"

"Please Y/n it's just the two of us now, no one will come to help us and if something happens to you too I'll not be able to forgive myself" he breaks down crying. I approach him cautiously settling myself on his carpeted floor in front of him.

It truly breaks my heart to see him like this. I take his hands in mine and gently caress them.

"Are you talking about Venom?"

He hesitates before he can answer "Yes Y/nn it is very dangerous I almost died" before he starts panicking I hold him in my embrace trying my best to calm him down.

"Don't worry I'll make sure this Venom gets sent to whatever part of hell it came from" I lean back to wipe his tears. His eyes were bloodshot from crying.

I soon bid him goodbye not before making sure he has something to eat and leave to go to my apartment.

Now, this was getting personal. I need to find Venom before it harms Peter more. As I am lost in my thought I bump into someone in the hallway.

"We should stop meeting like this babe," Eddie said in his husky voice

"Eddie, great I was looking for you" I couldn't stop the growing smile on my face

"Oh, I am honored my lady" he bowed. I chuckled taking his hand.

"Not here let's talk inside" I quickly opened my door and sat down on my sofa Eddie following my lead.

"Ok so you are a journalist"

He nodded his head "And you have beautiful eyes"

"Uh- wha- what" calm down he just said your eyes are beautiful. Not a big deal. He said my eyes are beautiful

"I thought we were stating facts about each other," he said grinning

I chuckled nervously "No I just wanted to ask if you have noticed any strange activity lately"

"What kind of strange activity?"

"Like any reports of a parasite attacking citizens"

Eddie stiffened at my words and straightened his back

"Uh-no why do you ask?" he asked squinting his eyes at me

"I just heard a lot about it at my work and people are scared of it. I thought you would know something about it since it is on news" not a lie you actually heard about Venom sightings at your work.

Eddie shifted uncomfortably in his seat "Not really, but I'll let you know when I do"

I can't help but wonder, Venom has been on news for weeks how come Eddie has not heard about it. "Thanks, Eddie, Cookie?" you asked with a beaming smile

Even though Eddie was terrified at that moment he nodded his head yes. Maybe he knows something. But why won't he tell me?

Wherever you are Venom you are going to pay for hurting my best friend. I'll make sure of it.

A/N: Yes I made slight changes it is ignorable. Hopefully. I know we didn't get much of Eddie here but he will be there in the next part

Taglist: @noodletwogo @belladona-is-poisonous @preciousbabypeter @jasminemohmed

Part 5?

[steddiesupportgroup]

Man, for a show I’ve fallen in love with and had so much anticipation for, I ended up kinda wishing I hadn’t watched vol2.

Spoilers and a huge rant under the cut

The whole time I was literally shaking with nerves about what was gonna happen to Eddie, to all of them. His last moments (the whole last two eps honestly) dragged on for what felt like hours. It wasn’t fun; it was nerve wracking. And yeah, maybe it’s my bad for getting so attached to a fictional character in a show where people die, but so what? He makes us happy in a time where things aren’t going super well, brought us comfort. If we can’t use fiction as an escape, what’s the point of it?

All that aside, I’m still disappointed about other things. El saying goodbye to Brenner and finding her strength was great, as was the whole thing with Hopper, but other than that? I spent the whole four hours dreading what was gonna happen. I feel like they took the whole “all hope is lost” thing way too far. Watching Lucas hold Max while she begged to die made me fucking sick, as did watching Eddie sacrifice himself. I hate this trend of having people guess who’s gonna die, it’s just sad. Lucas getting beaten up by Jason, who, yeah he died, but didn’t get what he deserved. He was grieving and deranged, and then he was nothing.

And like they touched on Steve’s character arc for a split second before taking ten steps back. I don’t believe that he wants to get back with Nancy because he keeps finding new people in his life, new experiences that change his worldview. Why go back to a girl that is hung up on someone else? This isn’t even a steddie thing- they could’ve touched on his growth without involving her. He’s someone who protects people now, who keeps putting others before himself and doesn’t stop fighting no matter what. Maybe he doesn’t even need a canon relationship to find worth and value. The dream with the kids was cute, but he’s so much more than some guy who can save the world but can’t move on from his first love. I want them to have love for each other, but they both need more.

And man, Nancy and Jonathan are really dragging on. I like them as a couple, really! But couldn’t they have other conflict? Or keep the conflict without involving Steve? All that buildup for them to lie to each other about how good they are, it just doesn’t make sense. I expected Jonathan to tell her the truth about college, or have him circle back to thinking about what it would look like if they kept holding on.

And yeah, Robin and Vicki at the end was just some hetero “we don’t know how to write queer relationships” bullshit. Just because they’re both girls and can have things in common doesn’t mean they need to be the same person. Robin deserves better than that, even someone who knows what she’s been through (winking at you ronance shippers).

I knew Byler wasn’t gonna happen, but man, they really couldn’t have had Will and Jonathan have a better conversation? Even at the end? It’s like “everyone knows so it doesn’t need to be said” but why not?? How is Will any different from Robin, who is somehow the only character who can openly talk about her queerness? Because he’s a boy? Because he’s young and in love with his best friend? I don’t wanna watch him cry in the back of the van with Mike if they’re not gonna have some kinda resolution.

I am gonna keep talking about Eddie, actually. His death was wretched, yeah. But the thing that breaks my heart is that now his name is tainted beyond death, and the people who loved him are silenced and pushed to the side. The Munson Murders, what a tragic end for a character who was so loving, so kind and gracious to everyone around him. And how are the writers gonna act like no one else in the group is bothered by his supposed death? They got to know Eddie, they risked everything to save him, and you can’t tell me that it’s business as usual after all that. If he is dead, it’s the worst insult to his memory. Ya know what’s better than dying a hero? Getting justice! Living to see another day with the people who love you! He could’ve become a braver person if he lived and he was already a fucking hero, because just like Steve, he cares about the kids. I can’t imagine what Dustin will go through and I really don’t want to.

So yeah. I know that the writers won’t see this, but I hope with enough pushback they’ll revive his character. If they can do it with Brenner after having his brain turned to mush, they can do it with Eddie after getting the same wounds as Steve. Especially after El brought Max back from the dead.

And man don’t even get me started on Netflix feeding into the Eddie love the whole time, it feels so vicious of them. Rbing steddie fanart and acting like his character was going somewhere. Like we get that little tidbit about Eddie’s dad teaching him to hotwire a car and for what? To never see him again? I don’t believe it.

Okay, I need to stop. Thanks for reading, I’ll be writing a fix-it fic within the next few days <3

[wackybuddiemewbs]

Okay, caught up to the episode fully at long last.

And holy fuckin' shit. Buck!whumpees getting served... all of the pain and angst and yikes and the coma.

Some things I just need to spew out, even though none of it makes sense or is supposed to, but I just need to get it out of the system.

Bobby and Buck

The parallel of Bobby holding the baby and then later holding on to Buck as he's lowered down... OMFG. The fact that he says similar words "c'mere, kid", "c'mon, kid"... I just can't. They're so sick for this. And I'm so sick for this. This is so sick, sick, sick. And I'm here for it, crying my eyes out.

Also, magnificent callback to how the two began and how they clashed in the first ever episode. As I've mentioned in a previous post, I'd LOVE (and be deaded by it) to see Bobby coming more into his own as a father figure for Buck. It's something he's more or less shied away from, as he's done with Athena's kids, until a life-threatening situation come along. And boy, here it is.

Time to make that adoption official, Bobby. Boy's up for grabs.

Also also, the chili scene (weird name, but hey). For one, we get kind of a reverse between the two (Buck doing the cooking, Bobby going down internet research rabbit holes, which is a very Buck thing to do). But then Buck asking about the secret ingredient (and it ain't about the chili). And while Bobby provides him with the answer to perfect the dish, Buck's still none the wiser about what the secret ingredient is to bring his life to perfection.

Am I going to make a stupid joke about chocolate brown eyes factoring into this? No? Good that we all agree that this would be very embarrassing. But still, Eddie totally is the cocoa in that recipe, is all I'm saying.

Also also also, eternally interesting that we have Bobby struggling to move forward after his sponsor's death. And my guessing is that Buck's future now being on the line might just be the right catalyst to break him out of that vicious cycle. Like, him not giving up on figuring out what happened to his friend is good and right (and May's on the right track with it all... even though I am not a fan of civilian investigator doing this because they somehow can for reasons of their parents being in the profession... not a fan of those story lines, even though I love both May and Athena here).

But. There is a level of "obsession" to sticking to the past with Bobby, instead of looking for ways to move forward again. And Buck's accident as well as the recovery might serve just that purpose. To make Bobby see that he has new things to hold on to, a future to live towards. Because he's needed. Like, earlier on in the season, Bobby's been thinking about how the house is empty with the kids out (and he instantly adopted a dog because that guy is just dad shaped). To me, it felt like Bobby's been a bit lost well before things went down with his sponsor.

What's interesting to me is that this is something he shares in with Buck, even though they have very different ways of going about it.

Buck's basically on the opposite trajectory (leaving out the Daniel remark for the moment). Buck is not too invested in looking into the past, he's obsessed with the future (anyone thinking about those software updates again?). He is very much focused on looking ahead (helping to create a life that will reach further into the future, trying to find happiness that lies in the future, etc.).

Also, I will just say. Bobby dares to say "son" instead of "kid" at some point of this arc, I will lose it. Absolutely fuckin' lose it. And I will also totally lose any remaining shit I've got left in me if we see that guy praying for Buck. I cannot. I just cannot.

Buck noticing the small things but losing the big picture out of sight

Gotta say, I loved how they've built up the tension, and I felt like it reflected a lot in Buck noticing "small" things, until the big thing hit him in a flash. Buck saw the gasoline and stopped with the saw before sparks could fly. Crisis averted. He notices that the chili is missing a key ingredient. He is aware (has no real illusions) about how his parents may have just wanted to win an argument and how they do not approve of his life choices. He kept tabs on who went up the ladder truck when, which is why he knows it's his turn now. He notices something's off about the sounds in the sky. And then, hit in a flash.

In a way, I find that somewhat reflective of what we've seen with Buck thus far. Sure, he's made some truly life-changing decisions (hence big pictures). But in his quest for "true happiness" he's been all over the place.

He took inventory, got that armchair instead of a damned couch (obsessed about said couch to a very confused Bobby). Started with those self-help books. He hears about how Lucy may have been interim captain, which has him wonder about the big picture of where he fits in the firehouse in the future. The donor vs. dad thing - and how "the small deed" of filling a cup contributes to the big picture for someone else. Lev and him talking about what's potentially in store for him and Buck thinks the big milestones (wife, kids, house, you name it) are still on the horizon for him. But that's really just the details.

So my guessing is that they may want to hit the point home that Buck looks at the whole of it. To figure out what his true happiness is (and that he already has most of it, maybe just need that one co-worker to smooch him for good).

Parenthood

I felt like it was a very interesting choice that parenthood (and to a larger degree fatherhood, I felt) was at the forefront in an episode that ended on this... high note. Especially since one infamous father and certified DILF was not at all that present for that convo.

Like, I found it very deliberate that Eddie didn't factor into the fatherhood storyline as he normally would have. Because that is what we normally have when Buck's supposed to relate to his own position towards fatherhood, tangling things up with Eddie and Christopher (which, you know, Buddie).

Part of it, going by the stills, will be that they save it up for next week's episode (so I may never stop crying in my entire life over Christopher being at Buck's bedside). But I find it very interesting that they "removed" Christopher and Eddie as filters for Buck to reflect fatherhood through. And now we may very well get Eddie having to reflect on it without the Buck filter. Which is to say: He has to think about what it'd be like to be a father to Christopher without Buck in the picture. Which is interesting. To say the least. And potentially very, very gay. In the best possible way. Anywho.

Then we had other (grand-) father figures (Philip and Chim's father). I'm still pretty blank on what they wanna do with Chim and his father, to be honest. Also, Albert's way of acting keeps striking me as though there's more to it. I'm not yet sure what it is, but we'll have to see. I found it wonderful to have Hen tell Chimney that he should use his chance to say what he has to say (and reach some kind of conclusion that she's never gotten). After his father deprived him of the chance for all those years. And I do hope it offers him healing. But yeah, I'd have to sit on that a while longer.

So on to Philip... still somewhat a mystery to me, that dude. Like, was he really invested in "defending" his son, or was he - as Buck noted - maybe just not willing to let Chim's father have the last word on it? I am honestly unsure. I felt like him and Margaret were making an effort (as Chim noted, only on their best behavior). But I'm not entirely sure if that's coming from a genuine place of wanting to mend things with their kids. Or if they are much more focused on having that relationship with Jee as grandparents (you know, fresh starts and all). Like, as sweet as it was to see Margaret goof around with Jee (and what may come to highlight how far she's come along with her therapy)... it might also be rather bitter in the end. That she can be like this to her grandchild - but not to her own children.

What both fathers share in, to me at least, is how vastly different they are from Bobby as a father figure for Buck (and how inferior, really). Bobby's offering of advice and support comes from a genuine place, it always did. He helps Buck grow, and he's not really concerned to win an argument or to appear as the "better dad" or whatever. Even though he is. Dad shaped man, oh you. Like, it's not about appearances for him. But I feel like for Buck's actual parents, to a degree, it still is. Maybe they'll overcome that, but... I'm not sure.

Speaking of, the Buckley parents. Christ almighty, why does Margaret have to be so cringe sometimes? I guess this proved where Buck got this from at long last, because yeah, that's his mom right there. But. Oh. My. God. Why. Are. You. Like. This???

She really strikes me as the kind of mom that would've made everyone uncomfortable at any kind of school thing (and kudos to the actress for portraying it so well). She's so uptight and weird about it. But she's also nosy, while struggling so hard to let anyone see what cards she's got in her hand. Like, ugh. I can't with those kinds of people.

Her first impulse being that Buck would have a photo of Maddie's sonogram on his phone was both cringe and also so... devastating in a way? Like, great set-up for Buck's character arc here, but... that her first thought's not "oh, my son might be a father!" but that it's "oh, my daughter is gonna be a mom again, and he is also there to be an uncle again!" ... It is very telling, I believe.

Because Margaret and Philip didn't really compute Buck as that kind of person. And I do believe it was a deliberate contrast, after we opened the episode with Buck being great with the kids by the beach. Like, we as the audience know how great Buck is with kids, but for his parents, that's a total mystery.

Which is the absolute antithesis to Eddie telling Buck that he's Christopher's legal guardian. Eddie saw all this time that Buck's dad shaped, too. To the Buckley parents, he's still... anything but that. Margaret literally says to him that he's a "miracle baby", hence not really recognizing him as a rational, capable adult on his quest towards his own sense of fatherhood (son, not father). They still see him more as the troublemaker not ready to settle, it feels like.

Also, "miracle baby". Margaret. Why (yes, I know, for narrative purposes, but OMFG, lady, what the flying fuck's wrong with you???). The Buckley parents continue to push this idea of Buck being a miracle for as long as he provides services to others (either by saving or creating lives). They still have seemingly not grasped how important it is for them to recognize Buck's inherent value as a person and not just as a miracle that keeps on giving.

Also, the wording is just so... cringe. No, he's not a miracle baby. He never was. He was conceived to perform the miracle they could not, with the expectation of being the miracle bringer (and that he later on believed he disappointed said miracle by not being able to save Daniel). Like, Margaret, that's not a miracle baby. That's still a savior sibling you wanted to produce. Even if you put the miracle label on top, that changes nothing about the circumstance.

And if the writers want for them to learn that lesson... it certainly is the right place and time to teach them that. And if not... it will show what stuff they're actually made of, I guess. We'll have to see. As I said in a previous post, I don't know where they want to take the Buckley parents (more towards "redemption" or as the ultimate reminder of the reality that some people won't change out of their ways and that there are those relationships beyond repair).

On a quick side note: Gotta love the parenthood storyline with Hen and Denny. And the detail of her picking up baseball with Eddie when Denny started with it. Oh, I love her. I'll be interested to see how all of that plays out. I just feel like more trouble's ahead.

But. Back to Lightning McQueen I mean Evan (won't ever get over Oliver's facial journey there) I mean Buck and the parenthood issue. Like, I do believe that if we get an alternate scenario (that may very well answer the question what life would be like for him if he had indeed been the miracle baby to save Daniel), Buck will be brought to the realization that the big picture is already in place. With Eddie and Christopher and the 118 and Maddie.

Like, I can very well see them giving him "everything" of the things he told Lev were still on the horizon for him. Only to be dissatisfied, or desperately trying to get back to his reality. Because this is where he belongs. Those are the people he belongs with. And he doesn't need to hold on to a "dream" of being more than the donor in Connor's and Kameron's life to find fulfillment as a person, as a father. Because he's that to Christopher already, a co-parent. And I do believe they might hit that point home for him at long last. And it'd be epic.

In a Flash

I guess I don't have much to add. Everyone's basically expressed my views on it already. The tragic beauty of the red string connecting Buck and Eddie, both getting hit by the same bolt of lightning. Eddie crying out for Buck. Eddie coming to Buck's rescue, his own safety be damned. The Pieta-esque shot when Buck's being lowered to the ground. Eddie doing the whole "move, I'm gay" to get to Buck. Time standing still, only to jump forward after it all happened. The ending of the helmet on the ground... *chef's kiss*

You already are a family

That one struck me a bit. Because Eddie noting that to Buck is great foreshadowing, for one thing. But it might also prove to be the narrative reversal I'd so desperately crave. That Eddie says to Buck "We're already a family." That Buck is part of his family. And that Buck comes to the realization that he is already part of that family and doesn't need to be part of a dream family (his own that never was), or the one Kameron and Connor are building. That he wraps up his inventory and knows that what he wants is what he got - if only he gets to fully embrace his role as father figure to Christopher and certified DILF for Eddie.

Buck and Eddie (duh)

Did you think I'd end this post without obsessing a bit longer about Buddie specifically??? Yeah, no. I'm still not over all the angsty goodness we were given. I'm still at the edge of my seat over what's going on with Eddie (and Christopher) next episode. Will Eddie revert to his old ways and try to be stoic about it to keep face in front of Christopher? Will he break down in the face of the danger of losing yet another partner? Will he pull a Buck and get back into dating to cover up his feelings? Will Eddie's voice bring Buck back? Will it be Christopher's? Will Eddie take Buck's hand and beg him to stay with him? I don't know. All of it would be so epic. And I still can't wrap my head around all of those wonderfully awful options.

Like, there's great potential for Buck to reach some epiphanies, but they are just as well in store for Eddie here. Not only will he be confronted with the reality that he may have to raise Christopher without Buck's presence. But he will also have to reflect hard on why he made the choice to name that man Christopher's legal guardian. Because he could've died up on that ladder all the same, and then Christopher would've been "alone". Like, Eddie will have to think hard about that one. And he'll have to think even harder about why Buck is that person for him. What it means to him personally that he gave Buck that role in not just Christopher's but also in his life.

Plus, we may finally, finally, finally get them to talk about their shared traumas of either having witnessed the other nearly die... or nearly dying. Like, this is a gun that's been hanging on the wall for quite some time now. Time to fire it, right? *pew pew* Because they got very comfortable letting their talks run through the Christopher filter. They do things in Christopher's best interest. But what they still have to do is to talk honestly to each other about this. And that may open the door to something else. And that something else is very, very gay.

So yeah. I'm... not really coherent at this point. This episode was too much. And i may have to sit on that a while longer. Until then: Happy return of the weewoos and the ouchies, peeps!

Cheers!

[buckleyblueyes]

ahh that's amazing! thank you in advance. I got this idea into my head: what if there is this one time they're all on a call, and maybe it's something that hits a little too close to home for Buck, maybe it's playing on his fears and insecurities, but the moment Buck sees what they're dealing with he gets SCARED, and freezes, and subconsciously grabs Eddie's hand, because Eddie makes him feel safe. He is his best friend (who he's in love with, ofc) after all. Eddie is well. Surprised. Very much.

Anon! Thank you so much for your patience with this one! I know it's been ages since you sent it in. I hope it's worth the wait and that I did justice to your prompt! (CW: drowning)

Eddie feels Buck tense up beside him as soon as Bobby tells them where they're going: Splash Zone Water Park. They have calls to pools fairly often, and Buck always gets a little bit tense going into it, no matter how long it’s been since the tsunami. Eddie presses his knee against Buck’s in the truck, offering a silent comfort to his friend. Buck seems to push down his fears by the time they pull up to the scene, forcing himself to shift into Firefighter Buckley mode as they make their way through the park. Eddie lets himself be relieved, until they arrive in front of the wave pool.

Of course it’s the goddamn wave pool. Even worse, there’s a nine year old boy laid out on the stone patio next to the pool, dripping wet, brown hair plastered to his forehead. He’s unconscious, bleeding from the side of his head, and his chest isn't rising and falling like it should be. Buck freezes immediately at the sight, reaching out for Eddie with his right hand, and wrapping his fingers around Eddie’s left wrist. It takes Eddie a moment to realize that Buck is feeling for his pulse, grounding himself.

Eddie does his best to steady his breathing and heart rate once he realizes what Buck is doing. The sight in front of them is upsetting to him, of course it is, but he knows it’s worse for Buck. He’s not the one who walked around for hours not knowing if Christopher was dead or alive. He’s not the one who almost died himself (at least, not that day.) “It’s okay,” he murmurs quietly, so only Buck can hear. “I’m here, I’m alive. That’s not Christopher.” It’s purely a medical call at this point, so he makes no attempt to move away from Buck as Hen and Chimney begin administering CPR to the boy. His mother is crying, wailing, begging them to save him. His lips are turning blue. Buck’s grip on Eddie’s wrist is like a vice.

“We got a pulse!” Hen finally calls out.

Buck’s grip doesn’t loosen, but Eddie does hear him let out of a heavy breath. He twists his hand out of Buck’s grip just enough that he can slide his arm up, so Buck is no longer holding his wrist, but is holding his hand. He gives Buck’s hand a firm squeeze and finally hazards a glance up at the man in question. Buck is staring at their intertwined hands now, confused. At least, Eddie decides, he’s distracted from the drowning boy. He runs his thumb along the back of Buck’s hand, in what he hopes is a comforting gesture.

He knows they’re crossing some kind of line here, that hand holding in the middle of an emergency scene (even one where their presence turned out not to be strictly necessary) is not something that he’ll be able to brush off as strictly platonic. It doesn’t scare him like it used to, though. Maybe it’s because he watched Buck date Taylor, so he knows how much worse it would be to not have Buck, or maybe it’s all the therapy he’s been in since the shooting. Either way, Eddie’s not afraid anymore. He and Buck have been on the edge of something--or maybe everything--for months, so if holding Buck’s hand will help ground him, keep his mind from thrusting him back in time, then it’s a risk Eddie is willing to take.

Hen and Chimney are loading the boy into the ambulance--he is breathing again, still unconscious and probably severely concussed, but alive--when Bobby finally makes his way over to them. He takes in the haunted look in Buck’s eyes, and the fact that their hands are still tightly clasped together, and frowns.

“You boys alright?” He asks, but he’s looking at Buck.

Buck nods slowly. “I--Yeah. Just...Brought up some bad memories.”

“This was a rough one,” Bobby agrees. “I’m gonna take us off rotation for a while when we get back to the station.”

“Thanks, Cap,” Eddie says. Buck doesn’t say anything.

Bobby smiles in that warm, fatherly way of his, looking between them. “Take care of each other.”

As if there’s any universe where they wouldn’t.

Eddie doesn’t let go of Buck’s hand until they get back to the station, and only because he needs two hands to cook.

“I’m not hungry,” Buck says, still hovering in Eddie’s space.

“You were about to eat before the call came in,” Eddie insists gently. “You need to eat.”

“And you’re gonna cook for me?” Buck shakes his head. “I think I’ll take my chances with starvation.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, pulling out a griddle and a clean spatula. “I think I can handle grilled cheese, Buck.”

Buck’s mouth opens and closes in surprise. “Grilled cheese?”

“Maddie may have mentioned making it for you a lot growing up.” Eddie flushes slightly at having to admit he’s talked to Maddie about Buck. “I thought it would be comforting.”

Buck stares at him, eyes wide and mouth turning up into a tentative smile. “Yeah, it is.”

“Good,” Eddie smiles back. “Now, go sit down.”

Eddie bustles about the kitchen, pulling out the good buttermilk bread that Chimney always buys instead of the whole wheat bread that Bobby puts on the list, the pre-sliced cheddar cheese, and the butter. “After we eat, how about we video call Christopher?” It’s late in the afternoon, he’ll be home from school by now.

Buck lets out a long exhale. “Yes, please.”

Eddie flips the bread slices on the griddle and places the cheese slices on the toasted side. “Great.”

“I--” Buck starts. “I didn’t know how to ask.”

Eddie looks up from the sandwiches. “How to ask for what?”

“To talk to Christopher,” Buck draws patterns on the tabletop with his index finger. “I know I’m not--He’s not mine.”

Eddie doesn’t say anything at first, just plates up the sandwiches, brings them over to the table, and sits down next to Buck, who takes a small, tentative bite.

“I don’t think that’s true.”

“What?”

“You said Christopher isn’t yours,” Eddie picks up his sandwich, but doesn’t bite into it. “I don’t think that’s true.”

Buck is staring at him again, confused.

“Look, I don’t know what we are anymore, Buck,” Eddie admits. “Things are different between us now, and I don’t know what I’m doing, but I know that you love Christopher, and that he loves you just as much. If that doesn’t give you a right to call him, to reassure yourself that he’s okay, then I don’t know what does.”

“I…” Buck’s eyes fill with tears.

"It's okay, Buck." Eddie reaches over to wipe Buck's tears with his thumb. “Just eat your grilled cheese."

Buck does as he’s told, making it halfway through the sandwich in three bites. “You know, there’s no law that says we have to wait until we finish eating to call Christopher.”

Eddie raises a skeptical eyebrow, looking up from his own half-eaten lunch. “Will you actually finish eating if we call now?”

“Absolutely.” Buck takes a big bite to prove his point. “See?” He says, through a mouthful of food. Something so childish shouldn’t be so endearing, and yet, somehow it is.

Helpless, Eddie pulls out his phone. Carla answers on the second ring. “You better have a good reason for interrupting math homework.”

“I do.” Eddie assures her. “Can you put Chris on?”

Carla gives him a look, but does as he asks. Christopher is grinning--probably excited to have his math homework interrupted “Hi, Dad!”

“Hey, kid.” Eddie can’t help but return his son’s smile. “How’s the math homework going?”

Christopher’s smile falters slightly. “Oh, it’s good.”

Somehow Eddie doesn’t totally believe that, but it’s not important now. “Listen, I’ve got somebody here who wants to say ‘hi’, is that okay?”

The boy’s smile comes back even wider than before. “Is it Buck?”

“Yeah,” Buck says, loud enough that the phone can catch it. “It’s me.”

“Hand the phone to Buck, Dad!” Christopher is bouncing with excitement. “Hand the phone to Buck!”

He does, scooching his chair closer so he can still see the screen himself, and before Buck can even greet Christopher, the kid is launching into a monologue.

“Buck! Dr. Lassiter assigned us a big, semester-long project for science class, can you pleeeaaase help me with it? I want to build a model of the solar system, but it has to be totally accurate.”

The tension Buck's body has been holding onto since the phrase “water park” fell from Bobby’s lips is finally starting to fade.

“Absolutely. Do we want it to move?”

Christopher’s eyes widen on screen. “Yes!”

Buck laughs. “Well then, we’ve got our work cut out for us.”

Eddie smiles softly, as Buck and Christopher begin planning their project. He knows he must look like a lovesick fool, but to be fair, that’s what he is. He rests one hand over the crook of Buck’s elbow, and doesn’t miss the pink that appears across his cheeks.

“Alright, you three,” that’s Carla’s voice, “Somebody still has math homework to finish, and I’m sure you boys will have to get back to work soon.”

Eddie sighs. Carla is right, unfortunately. But Buck looks lighter than he has all day. “We better do what Carla says.”

“Will you come over after work?” Christopher asks. They won't get off until after Christopher will already be at school, so Buck will probably go to his loft after work. But Eddie doesn’t doubt now that Christopher has asked, Buck will manage to make it over to their house by the time Christopher is home from school. He wonders if it's too soon to ask Buck to sleep in his bed, instead of going to his loft at all. It's yet another line to cross, but at this point Eddie's lost track of all the lines they've crossed.

“You bet,” is Buck’s answer. “Now get back to your math!”

“Okay, dad,” Christopher says, rolling his eyes, voice dripping with sarcasm. It’s meant to be a joke at Buck’s expense, but Eddie can see the breath catching in Buck’s throat all the same, so he pulls the phone from his hand and takes over.

“Good-bye, Christopher! We love you!”

“Bye Dad! Bye Buck! I love you guys, too.”

Buck finds his voice again. “Bye Superman!”

“So,” Eddie says, putting the phone down. “Do you feel better now?”

“Eddie…” Buck hesitates, dropping his hand down so it rests over Eddie’s. His skin is warm and rough and unlike earlier Eddie can actually enjoy the feeling. “Thank you.” He’s thanking Eddie for more than just the grilled cheese and the phone call, and Eddie knows it.

His answer is simple. He turns his hand over, and interlocks their fingers. “Always, Buck.”

[piratefalls]

eddie (breakdown era) begins

masterlist. i’m always taking requests!

everything's coming up milhouse by hammersmiths

LAFD Updates (@L*A*F*D_Metro) LAFD Alert: Red-level traffic on Gardiner Road this morning. If you are trying to get into the city centre consider taking Westerley Lane.

buck 🔥🔥 (@firebuck) so true bestie

or, Eddie mans the LAFD Twitter account. Buck tries to be supportive.

Getting Back To Good by kimannebb

“I’m sorry if I’m doing this wrong.”

Buck turns and comes back to the couch. “What are you doing?” Eddie notices his eyes are glassy, as though he’s trying to hold back tears. Eddie’s own eyes sting as hurt, sadness and fear roll through his body.

“I’m trying to fix what I broke. To be a better friend.”

“Eddie. We aren’t … broken.”

Or

Therapy helps Eddie decide to talk to Buck because he wants to be a better friend and close the distance he created between them. But he's not ready to reveal his feelings and it's a balancing act.

third row back by withoutthetiger

"Still. Here he is. Exhausted after his first session. Or first session this time around, anyway.

Eddie’s eyes snap open when he hears a child cry on the far side of the parking lot, and the shock of sunlight is enough to make him wince, though the kid’s misery keeps him company for a while. When everything quiets again, he thinks he should start the truck and drive home, but his arms don’t quite cooperate, his hand tight around his phone.

He isn’t ready to talk, but if there’s anything Eddie learned today, it’s that he can survive having someone else nearby.

He isn’t ready to talk, but he can’t stop himself from tapping Buck’s name, a text sent before he wonders what else he can survive."

*****

Set in early 5b, offered as the loosest possible interpretation of the prompt "writing each other love letters."

next to your heartbeat (where i should be) by lecornergirl

“You always look at Buck like that.”

Eddie swallows. “Like what?”

“The same way you look at me,” Christopher says and flips to the next photo like it’s nothing.

Only it’s not nothing, because the next photo is from the aquarium, Eddie reading the sign and Buck next to him, and Buck is—

Buck is looking at Eddie the way Eddie was looking at Buck.

“Yeah, he does it too,” Christopher says and flips to the next one. And the next one, and the next one, and in every single one it’s the same.

this must be the place (oh treasured home of mine) by CarnivalsoftheCity

He didn’t feel like he’d lost his mind, when he really sat down and spelled it all out to Maddie and Chimney. The more he talked about it, the more Buck was sure of the facts. That one night he had gone to sleep in a world where Bobby was alive, and the next day had inexplicably woken up in a world where he wasn’t.

-

or, buck gets lost in some alternate dimension dreaming, and crumbles from there.

let the words fall out by fallingthorns

“Buck, listen to me,” Eddie says, grabbing Buck’s wrist and lifting it off of his thigh. “I think that I’m . . . Bad at being a dispatcher?” He phrases it like a question, because – well, because he knows it, but he’s not sure if anyone else has clocked that fact yet.

And Buck, much to Eddie’s confusion, blinks at him for approximately four seconds before breaking out into fits of loud, deep laughter. “I’ve been keeping a list,” Buck says. “Let’s start from the beginning.” -- Or, the one where Eddie absolutely cannot handle working a desk job.

dragged in dust (bathed in blood) by tkreyesevandiaz

I'm leaving the 118.

Or, the aftermath of Eddie's decision, and what it means for his relationship with Buck.

hate to say i spent it all on masquerades by hattalove

“It’s also that I like sex,” is what he says instead, and hates how pathetic it sounds. “And it’s fun, but it’s like—unless it’s with someone really important, it’s kind of the same level as going to the movies?”

Eddie smiles at him. Somehow, impossibly, it’s even softer than the last time, sweet at the edges.

“What if it is with someone really important?” he asks, and squeezes, his fingers pressing into the hollows between the bones of Buck’s hand.

or: buck picks up a pamphlet, has an existential crisis, and shows up at eddie's door, in that order.

I Know a Place We Can Go by maybeamystery

“Well, that was heartwarming,” Chimney says loudly. “Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, let’s go save some lives. In WeHo. Where Buck goes to gay bars because he is apparently a bisexual now.”

“I’ve always been a bisexual,” Buck sniffs. “You just didn’t notice.”

“There are gay bars outside of WeHo,” Hen adds. “Just saying.”

[5 times Buck and Eddie get hit on in West Hollywood and 1 time they definitely do not]

keep going, keep going come what may by iriswests

Buck doesn’t remember the details. It’s all foggy, mostly – how he got here. He barely remembers the events leading up to this: almost like he’d gone to sleep one night and woken here, a cruel reality, a prison of his own making. He thinks it could be hell: Eddie had warned him of hell, once, but then there are times where he’ll feel a brief sting in his arm, or the wind run through his hair, and it feels less like he’s a wayward soul and more like an asshole who got the short end of the stick, all things considered.

--

or; buck is the last man on earth. he’s dealing with it.

write it down but don't ask for help by soyxunxperdedor

Bobby doesn’t let Eddie come back, and he falls deeper into his routine. He doesn’t see the point in following through on his threat to approach another house because he knows Bobby’s probably emailed pictures of his face to every captain in Los Angeles.

So he keeps moving forward. He still fucking hates his job, turns out acknowledging that to himself means he can’t unaknowledge it, but he can deal. It’s fine.

At least it means he’s around for Christopher more. He can drop Christopher off at school every morning, and even pick him up on days like today when he has an after school activity.

-or-

Eddie fears he's a danger to Christopher and makes a drastic decision

sharp glass when you break by hopeintheashes

Following 5x10, Buck is... not handling things well.

He's not as alone in that as he feels.

baby, come make me alright by r_holland

Buck’s memory exists in fits and starts. Flashes. Bangs. Colours and voices. Nothing quite coalesces into anything solid. He remembers waking up in the morning, the warm weight of a broad chest at his back, the dry press of lips to his shoulder. He remembers school drop-off, remembers going through the Starbucks drive-thru, a gentle hand on his knee as he rattled off their orders.

He remembers walking through the firehouse doors. Things get a little bit scrambled after that. Like the eggs they had for breakfast.

Holy fuck his head hurts.

ripping all the skin from off my bones (have mercy) by extasiswings

Eddie can’t sleep.

I don’t even think about him anymore, that’s what he said months ago when he landed in the ER with a panic attack. I don’t even think about him anymore.

Not a lie.

Not the truth either. But not a lie. Not quite.

He doesn’t think about the sniper. But he thinks about the shooting. He has hours every night to replay it over and over now that he can’t seem to block it out, the lightning strike of a bullet slamming into him, the icy numbness of bleeding out on hot asphalt.

And Buck.

Buck’s mouth, his face, his white shirt, splattered with blood, eyes wide in shock and horror.

Buck.

What are you afraid of?

wonder what it's like by catching_paper_moons

“Here I am,” Buck says, blinking rapidly. “I, uh. I have a question.”

Eddie’s heart could jackhammer through his chest if he’s not careful. He swallows. “Okay.”

“You don’t have to answer it.” Buck’s voice shakes so minutely Eddie wonders if he made it up. “But if I don’t ask it I think I’ll kick myself forever.”

(or the soft moment they deserve to have.)

never wished for you to go by ShyAudacity

Christopher stays by the couch and Buck takes a steadying breath as he turns away; not knowing what to expect is the worst part of this. His heart rate kicks up a notch when he sees Eddie’s door is ajar. At least some things never change.

Buck pushes the door open as quietly as he can, poking his head in just enough to see. It doesn’t take long for him to spot the Eddie shaped lump in bed, or the way that he seems to have all the blankets pulled up to his face. From here, Buck can see the way that Eddie’s shoulders shake with every passing second, his eyes clenched shut.

Oh, no.

OR

For Bingo Square: Dissociation. (A 5B spec fic.)

decadent by annabeth_writes

adjective • characterized by or appealing to self-indulgence

•

It’s not that Eddie is upset. Not really.

But he can’t help feeling a little disgruntled that, once they’ve caught their breath and cleaned up, his anticipation of Buck wrapping him in a warm, sated embrace doesn’t actually happen. He hasn’t gone anywhere. He’s right there at Eddie’s side, propped up on one elbow with his fingers lightly tracing patterns over Eddie’s back.

But he’s not close enough for Eddie’s satisfaction.

the bullet in my gun by evcndiaz

Let’s talk about Buck, Frank had said at the beginning of the session. But that’s only a fraction of the whole, isn’t it? Let’s talk about the ache in your mouth, and the bullet in your gun, and the way you never seem to run out of enough ammunition to spatter your brain apart. Let’s talk about the hollowness in your throat, and the vacancy in your eyes, and the way your chest rises and falls without you taking a single breath. Let’s talk about the home you’ve built and the life you've created and the way you never seem to fully occupy any of it.

Let’s talk about living first and loving later, and see where it goes from there.

or; eddie goes to therapy (inspired by the 5x11 promo)

[justapoet]

(for you) I would ruin myself (a million little times)

The chaos, the sounds of shots, the blood splattered all over his face, clothes, and soul ― death, so subtly and surely coming around, with Its dark cloak, reaping hook, and empty holes that were more soulful than the eyes of some living humans.

Felt like being at war again ― but that was Buck. Buck, bleeding in the middle of the street and never looking away as long as he could. Eddie could see his erratic breathing, the pain in his features, life slipping away from his body as blood slipped away from the bullet wound on his shoulder.

Eddie felt at war again ― but there, looking at him, there was a reason for Eddie to risk it all. His life, his sanity, his heart; Buck was there, and Eddie needed to get to him.

Or,

What if Buck had been the one who got shot?

Read on Ao3

Life is not about death.

Death, though, is about living. A mere consequence, the insignificant reaction of an action or a collection of them ― a set of it we call life.

Death is not about life, although it comes only to the living.

And there's just no escape ― what can we do if the Universe always wants back what it gives? Like fate, or destiny, or a curse: we're bound to break, for we were bound to keep, to mend, and repair. And, for we were bound to be, we are bound to stop being.

These are mere consequences. Trifling nothings surrounded by anythings and covered in everything we could be ― and never will. Because that's how it goes, and it's just how life ends: a heart that beats grows meant to stop, and a life that's lived becomes intended to end. For we breathe, we're bound to cease ― and for we love, we're bound to ache.

Life is not about death, for the second is a minor reaction. Death isn't about life ― but living, for that's what it takes for someone's life to halt. And, especially, for those ― the living ― are the ones to suffer death, not as a consequence ― they are the ones to face the consequences of death itself.

Eddie had already faced death himself, though, with his bare hands and collapsing lungs. He had been to war ― death is just around all the time, and life seems meaningless even though they say that being a soldier is to have a purpose.

Eddie fully believes their only purpose there was to be scared, starve, and get traumatized for a lifetime ― if they made it out alive, of course.

Sometimes he wonders if it would've been better if he hadn't. It's just a second, an impossible hypothesis, for he is far from Afghanistan for years now, but it happens, sometimes. In the dark of the night, when he's alone, lonely, lying in a bed far too big for just one person and Chris is fast asleep in his own bedroom, Eddie can't stop himself from wondering.

He had seen death face to face. He had had death over his shoulder ― not only dead bodies but the cold, skeletal hand of the Reaper close to his ear, ready to take those he would take life from with his own hands.

Eddie wished ghosts were real, sometimes, just so he could get what he deserved for killing people who were there with the same purpose he had ― serving whoever sent them there, for whatever half-asses reasons they were given from someone else.

So, he had seen death face to face. Eddie had already stared deep in the dark holes of a ghostly skull and almost accepted the gruesome but unbelievably kind skeleton hand, It had so kindly offered him. After a few times, the Reaper didn't seem so cruel anymore ― It was only doing the job It had to do, just like everyone else.

The Reaper wasn't cruel but whatever made It do its job... Whatever it was, Eddie didn't like it. Not a bit, not at all, and not even just because.

After the well, Eddie really thought the Reaper had stopped ghosting over his shoulder, his mind and life ― he would still see It in dreams, but it was a friendly meeting. The Reaper would offer him tea and silently wait for whatever Eddie needed to say ― a friend he never thought he would ever make.

Regardless of whatever friendship they might have created, Eddie could still see the shadowy death wandering around the city. It wasn't hard since their line of work dealt with it every day, every hour, but there was something there that Eddie couldn't really get himself to understand.

There was something and someone.

Eddie didn't even see it coming. Time was ticking by around them, at first, and suddenly there was absolutely no time ― in a second, Charlie was being loaded in an ambulance, his crazy mother in another, and Buck was there.

"That kid is just lucky he met you," Buck had said.

Eddie had started to reply, smiling at his best friend, and suddenly his mouth tasted like blood.

But not his blood.

His body froze when he looked up, and Buck had his mouth half-opened in a fallen smile. His clear blue eyes so suddenly were filled with too many emotions for Eddie to be able to name any of them ― even less each one ― and, in the spare of a second, they were glassy.

As Buck's body fell hard and numbly to the asphalt, Eddie felt himself being pushed abruptly against the firetruck, just in time for another shot to ricochet close to them in the truck. Suddenly, he was on the ground, and he could see Buck from under the firetruck ― there was blood, so much blood, and those pretty blue eyes were glassy and hopeless.

Felt like being at war again.

The chaos, the sounds of shots, the blood splattered all over his face, clothes, and soul ― death, so subtly and surely coming around, with Its dark cloak, reaping hook, and empty holes that were more soulful than the eyes of some living humans.

Felt like being at war again ― but that was Buck. Buck, bleeding in the middle of the street and never looking away as long as he could. Eddie could see his erratic breathing, the pain in his features, life slipping away from his body as blood slipped away from the bullet wound on his shoulder.

Eddie felt at war again ― but there, looking at him, there was a reason for Eddie to risk it all. His life, his sanity, his heart; Buck was there, and Eddie needed to get to him.

So, he rolled over to get rid of Capt. Metha's grip around his shoulder and started to crawl under the truck to its front. Buck's eyes had slipped shut at some moment, and the despair on Eddie's heart grew even huger ― please, he thought, don't slip away too.

"Buck!" Eddie shouted, crawling faster. "Hang on, I'm coming!" he said and tried to look up from where he was, a not-so-effective way to calculate the risk.

Fuck it, the risks, Eddie thought, then.

"Buck!" He shouted again, hoping to get an answer that never came. Eddie stretched his arm and reached Buck's hand that tried to touch him at some point inside of the chaos, pulling him from view as fast as he could.

He vaguely remembers a car exploding in the background, but none of that mattered.

As Eddie pulled Buck under the truck, the firefighter groaned and yelled in pain ― Eddie understood; he remembers how much it hurts.

"Stay with me, Buck, please," he asked, and Buck could only groan heavily and close his eyes shut again. Eddie cursed and crawled all the way back to where Captain Metha stood, screaming at the radio to tell dispatchers their current situation.

"Off-duty firefighter down! We need cover; we need help!" The Captain was shouting, but absolutely none of that mattered. Not when Buck was bleeding out, and Eddie was seeing his life slip away from his hands.

"C'mon!" Eddie shouted when he got back on his feet and pulled Buck from under the truck again. They were still firing, and Eddie couldn't care less. He had been through worse, and the last time he waited had been too late.

He would lose Buck.

He wouldn't lose his mind.

He couldn't lose his heart.

With impressive ease, Eddie managed to throw Buck's dead weight over his shoulder and, with Captain's Metha and someone else's ― he didn't care about knowing who that was ― help, they got inside the 133's truck.

Eddie doesn't know and doesn't care about how, but they somehow lost one of the truck's doors while getting out of that Inferno.

"Buck, Buck!" He called, taking some gauze from somewhere and opening Buck's shirt with total carelessness. "Stay with me; I got you," he said, almost pleaded, while applying as much pressure as his hands could.

Buck groaned in pain, and Eddie was slightly thankful for that.

"Stay with me, Buck, please," Eddie said again, and Buck did his best to open his eyes. Those usually playful and lifeful irises were dull and glassy, and Eddie wished that was just another of his nightmares. "I got you, okay?"

Buck took a sharp breath in and tried to look up at Eddie.

"Are you hurt?" He asked, and Eddie could start laughing at the ridiculousness of the question when his best friend was bleeding out under his hands. He also could cry because Buck was bleeding out and still dared to ask him such a question.

"No," Eddie answered, breathless. "No, I'm not, Buck,"

"Good," Buck said, his eyes fluttering shut again. "That's good," his voice was weak, and suddenly, he was out.

Eddie screamed, begged for him to open his eyes again, yelled at whoever was driving to go faster.

They took an unconscious Buck away from him into de ER, and Eddie just stood there.

"You okay, Diaz?" Captain Metha had asked.

Eddie wanted to cry, shout, run after the team of doctors who took Buck away and beg them to hold Buck's hand in his so he wouldn't be alone. He wanted to find out who did all of that, who started a goddamn shooting out of nowhere, aiming Buck at first, and make them pay. Eddie wanted to crawl under his bedsheets and stay there until he and the bed were only one piece of furniture, and no one could ever find him anymore.

He wanted to tell the Reaper to take him instead. He craved to show the Reaper that it was okay to take him away, finally, if it meant Buck would be alright and have a long, lasting, happy life.

Eddie tried to swallow the lump on his throat.

"No," he managed to say.

―――

Grief is something funny to deal with. The word "grief" and "grieve" themselves come from old French "grever," which signifies "to burden," which comes from the Latin words "gravis" or "gravare," both meaning "heavy" or, in its original meaning, "serious."

How meaningless they become, though, when they're more than a dictionary definition.

As humans, there's barely too much our poor understanding can reach ― rationally and even more emotionally speaking. Feelings, as they are, are rarely understood, for we're only said to feel them without any further questions to which no one has an answer.

Eddie had a lot of questions, indeed. Why do we feel pain? Why does it feel like our heart is being ripped out of our chest, sometimes? Even if we've never experienced someone shredding our heart out of our ribcage.

Why do some smiles take our breath away?

Why do we cry when someone is away?

Why does silence hurt?

Why does living hurt? And why does death hurt almost as much?

And, the question bumping against Eddie's head and heart since he had sat on one of the chairs of the waiting room of a chaotic hospital: why Buck?

Read the rest on Ao3

[feirceangel]

Imagine | A Baby? (David)

Imagine David having to raise you.

Requested by @Davidsmate24 on Wattpad.

~

The night started as normal, the boys hanging around the boardwalk until they grew hungry. So, they tracked down a few unsuspecting people and feasted.

Of course, something unexpected happened.

When David was about to attack a woman, she screamed, "No, Y/n! Don't hurt her!"

David, naturally, paid her outburst no mind and drained her of blood.

Then, he heard a cry.

A baby's cry.

This was not good. The Lost Boys never hurt children: it was just an unspoken rule. David frowned as he investigated the noise.

He discovered a babe wrapped in a soft f/c blanket lying by a bunch of bags on the ground. This must be the 'Y/n' that the lady was screaming about.

Paul, Marko, and Dwayne come beside him and stare down at the child.

"What are we gonna do?" Marko asks, tilting his head.

David cusses, "I have no idea."

~

Long story short, they took you in and began raising you as their own.

It wasn't easy for them to get accustomed to you.

~

David stares at the screaming kid with irritation etched into his features. "What the hell is wrong with it?!"

At his tone, she begins to cry out again, louder this time. He runs a gloved hand through his hair and breathes out heavily.

Dwayne speaks up, "Maybe she's hungry?"

"Marko, food," David demands.

Marko frowns, "What do babies eat?"

"I don't know, think of something!" David growls, sending the younger vampire scampering away.

The child watches the curly blond leave before wailing again.

"Ugh, make it stop!" He seethes, glaring at the nuisance.

"Maybe pick it up?" Paul suggests.

David curls his lip, "No way. You hold it."

"Hey, it's not my responsibility."

"Why is it my responsibility?"

"Because you killed its mom."

Dwayne intervenes, "Can you stop calling her an it? She has a name."

"What was it again?"

Dwayne sighs, "Y/n."

"Oh right."

David, having enough of the crying, finally bends down and scoops the child into his arms.

To everyone's surprise, Y/n stops crying.

Marko walks in, holding up a bag, "I found some baby food!"

"Finally," David sighs, and hands the kid over to Marko and Dwayne. Although he'd never admit it, he actually liked holding the baby in his arms.

~

Eventually, you grew into a cute toddler. Marko and Paul loved playing with you and teaching you knew things, like how to speak and walk and draw, while Dwayne was determined to teach you the alphabet and simple math.

David was like the overseer, and somehow your favourite out of all the boys. He would read to you and show you cool 'magic' tricks and tuck you into bed each morning.

The boys all grew attached to you, and loved you as much as they would have their own flesh and blood.

~

When you discovered that the boys were vampires, you were unaffected, having not understood what vampires were in the first place. They told you when you were younger, so that it wouldn't be such a shock.

They told you that you could turn when you were eighteen, which seemed so far away at the time.

Currently, at seventeen years of age, you've become a bit of a rebel. Therefore, it's been harder for the boys to keep you out of trouble.

You sneak out during the middle of the day to explore Santa Carla without the boys watching your every move. You've even been hanging around the comic book shop much to the annoyance of David.

He's become so protective of you, demanding that you stop seeing Edgar and Alan, claiming that they're 'dangerous'.

You can understand where he's coming from, seeing as the Frog brothers are determined self proclaimed vampire hunters. The fact that you're going to turn into a vampire in a few months would make them hate you.

David hates waking up to find you missing, although you always leave notes to tell him where you are.

Paul and Marko usually feed your rebellious side, being the fun uncles of the group. Dwayne is more of the calm, but still cool, uncle.

David, on the other hand, is your father figure, having taken up the mantle when he 'found' you on the beach.

You even call him 'dad' sometimes.

In the best sense, you and the Lost Boys make a tightly knit family, willing to do anything for each other.

~

You enter the comic book shop with a smile, sunlight pouring in after you. Edgar and Alan look up from the books in their hands to return the smile.

"Hey, guys, what's up?"

Alan crosses his arms and leans against the counter, "Not much. It's been quiet lately."

"No vampires?" You tease, a sly smirk forming on your lips. Deep inside, you're terrified that one day they'll find what they've been looking for.

If they did find out the Lost Boys' secret, there's no doubt that they would try something foolish.

You really don't want that to happen.

Edgar glares at you, "Not yet, but we're ready."

"I know that. You and your crosses and garlic."

Alan adds, "Don't forget the holy water."

You roll your eyes, but cringe on the inside. Holy water is the only thing that can actually harm the boys, apart from sunlight.

Relax, they have no clue.

Sitting on the counter next to Alan, you look at the fading sunlight. You snuck out before sunset to throw off the Frog's suspicion, just in case.

"What are you doing tonight, Y/n?"

You turn to Alan and shrug, "No idea. Probably just hang around here, if that's okay?"

"Got nothing better to do?" Edgar questions.

"Jeez, now that I think of it, I've got dinner with the Queen! How could I forget that?" You laugh, "What do you think, Eddie?"

Alan suggests, "We could always go to that concert, close up shop early.

"Ooh, yes! I wanted to catch that concert! It's gonna be awesome!"

You look to Edgar with wide puppy dog eyes, "C'mon, what'd you say?"

He doesn't say anything, simply sighs and nods. You laugh in victory and leap up, "Let's go, losers!"

~

The concert is amazing!

You've been to a bunch of different concerts before, but never with the Frog brothers. They kinda just stand there and maybe nod along, but it's nice to be with friends.

In the distance, you hear motorcycles revving.

Crap. I hope they don't ruin everything.

You nudge Edgar, "We should head back."

"Why?" He frowns in confusion.

"It's nothing, let's just go."

You push through the crowd on your way to the shop. As you break free from the swarm of people, a different group blocks your way.

An angry David leads them.

"Oh, uh, heya Pops," you mumble, looking downwards. "Fancy seeing you here."

"Where were you?" He asks.

"Out."

"I know that, I want to know where you were."

You gulp. Technically, you're not supposed to be hanging around the Frog brothers.

"I was around. I went to the concert."

Just then, two familiar brothers arrive behind you, "These guys bothering you?"

"No-" you start to say, but a glare from David silences you.

"The Frogs," the head vampire growls with a smile.

This is not good

"Why are you hanging around my daughter?" He takes a drag from his cigarette.

Edgar and Alan freeze. They hadn't known about you're fatherly attachment to David.

"Daughter?" Edgar asks disbelievingly.

He nods.

They look to you and you nod, "Yeah, this is my adopted dad, David. David, you know Edgar and Alan."

"You're one of them!" Edgar accuses. He's been suspecting the Lost Boys of being murderous vampires for some time.

"No!" At your outburst, David frowns dangerously. "I mean, kind of. I don't know," you try to explain.

Alan scoffs and starts to walk away, "Don't bother coming back to the shop. You're not welcome."

Your heart breaks as they leave.

Tears fall from your face as Marko wraps you in a warm embrace, "It's okay, kid."

"It's not okay!" You yell, wrenching away from them.

You run to the beach, away from it all. The silence is a welcomed experience. You turn when you sense a presence.

"David, why did you do that?!"

"You have to realize that they don't care about you! You know what they'd do if they knew for a fact that you were raised by vampires?! They'd kill you, Y/n. This is for the best."

You hate to admit it, but he's right. You hate it when he's right.

He hands you a cigarette and lights it for you, "I'm sorry, hun. I know you wanted to be their friend."

"They're the only ones who wanted anything to do with me."

"Not true," David chastises, "Marko, Paul, and Dwayne love hanging with you."

"It's not the same."

He sighs heavily, "You're right. We're your family: we're never gonna run away like that, no matter what."

You hiccup, trying to stop the tears. He draws you close and hugs you, "Love you, sweetie."

"Love you too, dad."

[youraveragebtsstan]

A Buddie FanFic: "The Things We Never Could Say" (A Season 4, Episode 13 Epilogue)

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Pairing: Buck x Eddie (Buddie), Evan ‘Buck’ Buckley & Edmundo ‘Eddie’ Diaz

Word Count: 2.3k (2,266)

Summary: Buck knew he would have to face his feelings sooner or later, but he never thought he might not get the chance. As his best friend lies in the hospital suffering from the wounds of a sniper, Buck struggles with the idea of losing the love of his life, without the possibility of saying the things he’s always wanted to say. (Events of this Fic take place after the final scene of Season 4, Episode 13. As of writing/posting this Fic, Episode 14 has not yet aired.)

AO3 (Archive Of Our Own) Link: Click Here

-----------------------------

Night had come in a blur.

The sun had faded, smearing itself in the sky, until there was nothing left; not even the moon. The sky was simply dark. There was no need for Buck to look up just to know he was alone. Though, it was nothing more than a feeling… He knew.

For the past few hours, time swayed by drunkenly. Buck swore he was still standing under the sun. He breathed in the daylight, exhaling something of content when the first shot was fired. He didn’t recall hearing anything. Not the sound of the bullet rattling through the barrel nor the screams of those that cried out in a panic as they fled around him. His focus was occupied by more important things.

The look of confusion on Eddie’s face burned, etched in his mind. As his body jerked at the push, he fell limp. A fearful stare gleamed in his eyes as he laid on the ground; the hand that reached out as his blood pooled around him… his blood. Buck could still feel the warmth of Eddie’s blood as it splattered on the side of his face; soaking into his hair, it melted onto his shirt. The stains had already dried, cracking on his skin.

Blinking into reality, the sounds of the faucet drew him in. His head hung low in the bathroom mirror. Leaning against the sink, he watched the water flow down the drain for what seemed like an eternity.

How did he get here?

All Buck could remember was climbing in the ambulance, sitting by Eddie’s side. He remembered holding onto the gurney as they rushed him through the hospital doors. Chaos ensued as doctors and nurses shouted to each other, carting in other victims one by one. He remembered sitting in the waiting room, eventually pacing the halls as his adrenaline struggled to catch up with his surroundings. As he tried to trek through the mess that was his thoughts, he began to get overwhelmed. When did he leave the hospital? He was too afraid to leave; afraid he would miss something important. No, he wouldn’t have left on his own accord. He couldn’t have. Did someone bring him home? He couldn’t imagine driving himself, not in his condition. He was disoriented and absent-minded. Had he told anyone about Eddie being shot? Did Maddie know? Chim? What about Christopher?

Right, he still had to tell Christopher… He remembered calling Carla shortly after arriving at the hospital; blood smearing on his screen as he swiped to find her number. Thankfully, she and Christopher spent the day together, visiting the park and an ice cream parlor or two. Buck breathed a little easier, knowing Christopher had a few more hours of joy remaining. Carla, being the kind woman she was, assured Buck she would stay by the younger’s side until he went home to clean himself up and pack a bag for the next few nights.

Right, he needed to get moving.

Taking a shallow breath, he glanced toward the shower, eyeing the handle. Buck struggled as he tried to get his feet to move. Glued to the ground, he moved not a single inch. All he needed to do was turn the handle. He had done this countless times, hell he somehow managed to turn the sink on, so why was now so hard? Rolling his neck in frustration, he caught a glimpse of his reflection; he nearly jumped out of his skin. His hair was matted, shirt drenched in sweat and blood. His skin was dirtied in debris; eyes red and glossy, sunken into their sockets. He looked nothing like himself. In fact, he had made up his mind the man before him was a mirage. The pit in his stomach gaped deeper.

Pushing off the sink, he made his way up to his room. He threw open the closet doors, yanking a couple shirts form their hangers. Tossing them in a bag along with a few pairs of boxers and socks he plucked from his drawers, he left his room in disarray. Like a tornado let loose upon his home, nothing was done with care. He felt as if time were slipping through his fingers. Dropping the bag to the floor, he fumbled at the buttons of his shirt. He couldn’t wait to get this thing off his body. He found it hard to move with it on. It weighed heavy on his chest. Unclasping the final button, he crumpled it in his hands, throwing it in the trash can next to his bed. His breath trembled as he breathed in. Though the shackles had been removed, he still trapped; the metal rattling in his lungs. The dried blood on his skin cracked as it crawled along his face.

Buck tried to shake the feeling. It wasn’t real, how could it be?

Trotting down the stairs, he raced to the sink, wanting to drown the sensation in the water. With each step, it’s grip around his throat grew tighter.

Plunging his head under the bathroom faucet, he gasped for air. Cupping his hands, he scrubbed his face, mashing his nose and cheeks in abstract circles. It burned the blood away like acid. His lashes were heavy as they dripped, water falling from his hair, down his nose and back. Small puddles could be found along the floor. Buck braced himself on the edge of the sink. Blowing water past his lips, his breathing lay labored. He gripped the sink tighter; fingers turning a muted shade of white.

Soon, a cry burst from his lips. Through gritted teeth, it resembled a groan of agony. Shaking uncontrollably, tears breached their waterlines. Falling against the wall, he slid to the floor, curling his knees to his chest. He had been sleepwalking. Numb for the remainder of the day, his body functioned purely on autopilot. Finally, his emotions gave in; exhausted and overwhelmed, he cried.

There was no one around to comfort him. No one he could call to ease his racing mind. The one person he needed the most, was the one who left him here alone. He needed Eddie. After all, Eddie was supposed to be there. He promised to have his back, just as Buck swore to have his. He tried to think of Eddie. In a different moment other than today, he played any memory he could think of. Something that would save him from himself. As Buck laid his head against the wall, he stared mindlessly into the faucet.

Funny enough, his thoughts dragged him to another heartbreak. He remembered how he felt the night of the tsunami, ringing and twisting the bands of Christopher’s glasses in his hands. He had spent hours wandering various medical tents, calling out the boy’s name to the point of  blistered feet and a scratchy throat. Tears overflowed his eyes as he fought to look Eddie in his… those brown eyes he adored so much. His heart exploded with relief the moment he saw Christopher back in Eddie’s arms safe and sound; knees buckling underneath him. Wrapped in Eddie’s arms is where things seemed the safest.

He remembered how angry Eddie was when he filed the lawsuit against the department. How Eddie saw red that day in the grocery store. The hurt in his voice masked by rage, as he clenched his fists by his side- Buck swore he was going to hit him… He wouldn’t have mind. The rattle of a fist against his jaw would have felt better than the hole in his heart. The hole Eddie dug deeper the more he ignored him; declining his calls and leaving his texts on read. Though he never admitted it, he cried on occasion. While everyone else ran off on calls, Buck often locked himself in the showers, stood with his back against the door as tears streamed down his face. Drawing a wedge between him and his best friend, he hated his pride that led him to isolation. He hated being alone…

So when Eddie was there for him after his world came crashing down, it was no wonder he couldn’t find the words to describe his appreciation. After 12 years of deceit finally coming to light, Buck found himself in a screaming match with his parents. He felt like a child again. Betrayed and neglected, Buck rambled on and on for what seemed like days at a time- Eddie was there to listen. He made him feel heard. Listening to his various monologues through FaceTime, even as Buck began to blame himself, doubling back on his words and dismissing his own feelings, Eddie always made him feel valid.

Eddie was always there… except now. Why couldn’t he be there now?

Why was he laying in a hospital bed, fighting for his life with IVs and monitors taped to him? It seemed so minute, a shot to the shoulder. If only they had rushed Eddie out of there like he begged, like he pleaded, he would have been fine. There would have been no need for him to pack a bag preparing to spend countless nights between a couch and the hospital. He wouldn’t need to tell Christopher his father’s not coming home tonight, if he came home at all. If only they let him pull Eddie to safety, things would have been fine… But instead first responders hid behind their cars, piling on top of each other, holding him down while Eddie laid in the middle of the street bleeding.

God, he had lost so much blood… Why did they waste so much time?

Time… Buck began to think rationally for a moment, his hopes growing high. Maybe if he showered quick enough, he could go back to the hospital and sit for a while- not for hours like he had before, but maybe an hour or two before Carla went home for the night. Though, he would be wasting away in the hallway; knee bouncing, rattling the chairs next to him. He probably would have worn his nails down to nubs before the doctor came back with any news. Buck pulled his thumb from his mouth at the thought; an old nervous habit rearing its ugly head. He clawed at his jeans, finding other use for his hands. Another the image of Eddie came to mind. Reaching out his hand as he laid on his side, Buck reached further, hoping he could feel his touch only feeling the rough touch of denim.

If only this once, he could hold Eddie’s hand.

He wanted to be by his side, waiting until he woke up… He wanted to be the first thing Eddie would see- not just in the hospital, but all the time. On the weekends, when they were both rarely off from work, he wanted to wake up next to Eddie; seeing him roll over in the sheets, sun shining in his face. On lazy afternoons, when Eddie sometimes napped at the fire station, Buck wanted to see that moment again. The man curled up on the couch, arms crossed over his chest, face plastered in bliss. He wanted to wrap his arms around Eddie as he cooked; with music playing in the background, dancing as he often did when he made dinner. Buck wanted to hold him in his arms, his head laying on his shoulder. That would be his own piece of peace.

The more Buck thought, the more he realized the two men had created a special type of love. Sure it was undefined, maybe even unconventional, but it was love nonetheless. As the wise words of a man he once met ran in his ears, Buck found himself laughing. Tears dried on his cheeks, nose no longer running, he remained laying against the wall, his laugh deep and therapeutic. He used to long for a love like this. Hoping for the day he would stumble upon it, unaware such a sacred love could only be made, molded with one’s own two hands- and By God, they had done it! He loved everything that ever was about Eddie Diaz. He had known for quite some time, the feeling of being in love. Constantly hiding his true feelings and for what reason? It was times like this, he wished he hadn’t. If only he had told him before…

That’s it, he thought to himself. As the light bulb flickered on above his head, he wiped the tears from his cheeks. He cleared his throat with a start. Standing, he flipped the handle on his shower wall, water spitting from the head as a result. Staring in the mirror, reminisce of himself began to reappear. He raised his chin, breathing deep. You got this. There was no need in holding himself down, torturing himself with a nonsensical life without Eddie. He didn’t have time to marvel over ‘what ifs’ or hypotheticals. Reality was now; a breath of fresh air compared to the sadness he had been drowning himself in. From that moment on, he would only allow himself to think fact, for fiction was too painful.

Fact, Eddie was going to be fine. The surgery would go well, and he would return home in no time.

Fact, Eddie would tuck Christopher into bed again. He would once again read his son his favorite stories as he drifted off to sleep in his arms.

Fact, when Eddie did open his eyes, Buck was going to be there… Sitting by his bedside, he would be holding his hand, ready to say the things he never could say.

Completed On: May. 23th 2021

Written By: Carmen Feaster (YourAverageBTSStan)

Feel Free To Reblog- Just Give Credit

[i-am-church-the-cat]

More Than Best Friends (Mega Best Friends?)

Fandom: 9-1-1, 9-1-1 Lone StarPairing: Evan “Buck” Buckley & TK Strand, Pre-Relationship Evan “Buck” Buckley/Eddie Diaz WC: 2344Summary: “Well, I’m sorry if I was a little preoccupied with the whole suddenly liking guys thing to notice my giant crush on my best friend!”TK just snorted again. “Crush? Buck, I hate to have to tell you your own feelings, but you’re in love with the guy.”“...WHAT?!”Or TK is a good friend and helps Buck figure some things out

Read on AO3 or under the cut

“I didn’t feel like going in alone and making it awkward so I asked Taylor-” “Wait wait, who’s Taylor?” Buck paused from wiping down the kitchen counter at the station. He had his phone tucked between his shoulder and his ear as he went through his chores, TK listening as he explained his week. These weekly calls between the two of them had started about a week after the 118 left Texas - Buck had called TK at midnight freaking out over his delayed bisexual freak out. TK had talked him down and since then, their calls were almost as frequent as Buck’s talks with his therapist. He hadn’t realized how much he needed a friend outside of work until he had been able to talk about his life with someone who hadn’t lived it with him. He had a feeling it was helping TK too, at least, he was still picking up his calls. “Oh right. She’s um... It’s kind of complicated but she’s a news reporter, the 118 saved her on a call and we hooked up a few times, and then I saw her again at the robber on the roof thing.” “Ah,” TK’s voice came back a little delayed. Buck wasn’t surprised, he was also in the middle of a shift. “So you asked an ex-fling to go on a double date with you?” Buck groaned. “Now, you say it like that and it sounds like a bad idea.” “Well was it?” The blond’s silence was telling and a snort came from over the line. “You should’ve called me, dude. I am well-versed in awkward romantic situations.” “Oh, you are aren’t you?” “Yep,” TK popped the ‘p’ and Buck shook his head, mindlessly returning to his cleaning. “I’ll make sure to do that next time. Can I get back to my story now?” TK grunted in refusal. “Just one last thing. Why didn’t you ask Eddie to go with you?” Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. TK always seemed to manage to bring him up in their conversations - Buck refused to think about how much he talked about the man himself - and Buck didn’t get it. “I can’t ask my best friend to go with me to dinner with my roommate and his girlfriend. Besides, he’s dating the vice principal, Ana.” “Her? Haven’t they only gone on like three dates? I’m pretty sure it doesn’t count as dating until the fifth,” his tone was teasing but there was an undercurrent of something Buck doubted he would be able to name until he knew TK better. Still, his words struck something wrong inside of him and he ducked his head. “He um. He introduced her to Christopher.” “Wait really?” TK sounded shocked. Buck was a little too. “How did Christopher take it?” Buck laughed humorlessly. “He used Eddie’s phone to order an Uber to my place.” TK was quiet for so long after that that Buck pulled the phone back to make sure he was still on the line. He pressed it back to his ear and said questioningly, “TK? You there?” “Oh sorry dude, yeah yeah. Just… he went to your place?” “Yeah, crazy right?” Buck was touched Chris trusted him so much but still couldn’t wrap his head around it. “No, actually,” TK replied, to Buck’s surprise. “It makes perfect sense. Think about it, when you’re mad at one person, you go to the other.” “I- what?” Buck blinked in confusion. Was he going crazy or did TK just imply he was Chris’s other parent? “Chris isn’t my kid.” Even though it was the truth, it still hurt. TK made a noise and somehow he could tell the younger man was rolling his eyes, even without seeing him. “Buck, I’ve been talking with you for how many weeks now? You talk about Christopher the same way Tommy talks about her kids. Utterly smitten and protective.” Buck opened and closed his mouth a few times like a gaping fish. He tried to deny it but… a small part of him couldn’t help but ask if he was right. He loved Christopher and he knew the kid loved him back. He knew he was Eddie’s kid and that was never going to change but. Sometimes he felt like Buck’s too. Before Buck could think of someone to reply, there were voices in the background of the call. He heard some shuffling and multiple voices, letting him know he had been put on speaker. “Hey, Buckley,” a voice Buck recognized as Captain Owen Strand’s came through the phone. “You finally accepting my offer to come down here.” “Ah, you know I would love to, but my family’s here in LA,” Buck said, just like every time. It was a running joke with them - though some days it felt less like a joke and more and more like a “We’re there if you need us” from the Strands. “I completely understand. But hey, you’ll say hi to Nash for me won’t ya?” “Of course. Actually, he told me you still owe him from that bet…?” Buck wasn’t completely sure about Owen and Bobby’s relationship. Just that they had met at the academy, lost touch, and then reconnected after the whole wildfire incident. He could hear TK snicker as Owen protested loudly. Buck chuckled when he noticed Bobby himself coming up the stairs, eyebrows raised at Buck’s lack of tidying up. Shit, he forgot what he was supposed to be doing. “Uh, I gotta go, you should talk to him about it. Let’s talk later okay, and TK I’ll send you my pancake recipe.” “Great thank you. We’ll talk later man.” They hung up just as Bobby was approaching Buck. He shoved his phone in his pocket as Bobby’s eyebrow didn’t lower. “Who were you talking to?” His captain asked, sounding too innocuous for the undertone of the question. “Uh, the Strands. Owen says hi, by the way, and that he definitely did not lose that bet,” he gives him what he hopes is an innocent shrug Bobby looks less suspicious and more teasing. He always was where Owen was involved it seemed. “I guess I’ll have to call him myself then. Were he and TK not on shift?” “Nah they were. It was just time for…” Buck trailed off, not sure what to call his weekly talks with TK. Life updates? Staying in touch? One bro helping out another through his sexuality crisis at 29 that turned into a Thing? “TK called me.” He finally settled on since it was the truth. Bobby gave him another look before nodding. “Well, as long as it doesn’t interfere with your work.” He said pointedly. Buck quickly nodded. “Yep, no, no interfering here,” he gave him a grin and went back to cleaning. He could feel Bobby’s amused shake of the head before he turned to head back downstairs. Buck sighed quietly and sent TK his promised pancake recipe before getting back to work. *** It wasn’t until he was back home that the content of his conversation with TK actually hit him. He was getting home, not surprised to see Albert already passed out on the couch. Buck’s shift had ended at 6 am which meant Al had already been back home for two hours. The blond was going to take a shower and follow his lead when all of a sudden it came back to him. TK said Buck was Christopher’s other parent. There was a lot to unpack about that - though he was steadily ignoring the small part of him that felt validated - but the thought that slammed to the front of his brain was ‘What about Eddie?’ Of course, TK never said Chris wasn’t also Eddie’s kid and it was absurd to think otherwise. No, the reason that thought was at the forefront of Buck’s worries was that if they were both Chris’s parents, what did it make them? Do best friends usually raise kids together? What would Buck even know about that? ‘If Chris is my kid, does that make Eddie my partner?’ he thought and woah, he was not prepared for the wave of… something that accompanied it. Eddie had been called his partner before - he was his partner at work, people regularly called them partners in crime - but it felt different. Equal in significance but different in meaning. And what the hell did that mean? It was almost 8 am in Austin and Buck knew TK had a shift at 10 today so he didn’t even think before pulling out his phone and pressing the now familiar number. “Wow, back-to-back days, is this Veronica thing really bugging you or what?” TK asked as soon as he picked up the phone sounding blessedly awake and clearheaded. The same could not be said about Buck, however, as instead of a greeting he blurted out, “Am I in love with Eddie?” There were a few moments of silence before TK lost it and loud laughing could be heard over line. Which, in Buck’s opinion, was not helpful, thanks. He was having a bisexual - or was it gay because Eddie was a guy? No, Buck was a bisexual and he didn’t become less bisexual by freaking out over a guy - freakout over his best friend dammit! It took a while but eventually, TK got control over himself. “You’re just now finding that out? What have we been discussing the past few months?” ‘Months? Wait, was this why TK always let him ramble about Eddie to him? Also if it was so obvious, why didn’t he tell him?!’ Buck voiced his complaints which only seemed to make TK more amused. “Excuse me for thinking that you suddenly realizing you were bisexual at 29 had something to do with your ridiculously hot and tactile best friend whose kid you are half-raising.” Again with the parent comments. TK was going to make BUck cry at this rate. “Well, I’m sorry if I was a little preoccupied with the whole suddenly liking guys thing to notice my giant crush on my best friend!” Oh. Oh. Did he just admit to liking Eddie? His painfully straight best friend Eddie? Well shit. But instead of sounding surprised, TK just snorted again. “Crush? Buck, I hate to have to tell you your own feelings, but you’re in love with the guy.” “...WHAT?!” There was a sound painfully close to a wince from the other side of the line. “I’m going out on a limb here and saying you didn’t know that either.” No. No, Buck certainly hadn’t known that. At least, he doesn’t think he did… “What am I going to do?” He asked, sounding sad and a little hopeless even to his own ears. It was just like him to fall in love with someone so tragically unavailable it wasn’t even funny. TK sobered a bit and let out a sigh. “I don’t know man. Sorry, I wish I did.” Buck slowly sat down on his bed. He doesn’t even remember when he had stood up to pace around the loft. Okay, so a few things to digest here. He was apparently in love with his straight and taken best friend who he was also helping raise a kid with and he was very likely to be the last to know. Seriously. Shit. “Look, if it makes you feel any better,” TK said slowly. Buck sat up a little straighter. “I think he likes you too.” “What?” He blinked at nothing. “But- but he’s not- he has a girlfriend.” “Compulsory heterosexuality is a bitch, I’ll give you that,” Buck knew what that was from their talks, recognized it as something he had likely done in the past, but didn’t really understand it. “But from the way you talk about him, and from what Marjan tells me his Instagram looks like, the only reason you aren’t married is that neither of you bothered to notice you could be.” That… huh. “Are you sure?” “Pretty sure. I will admit my gaydar has been off a little bit as of late, but you two already act, look, and talk like a couple. Now you just need to acknowledge it.” TK made it sound so easy. And he knew, even if Eddie didn’t feel the same, he wouldn’t disregard Buck’s feelings - which was the thing he was most scared of about coming out. It might take them a while for him to understand them but they would be out there in the open. The only thing was- “He’s still dating Ana,” Buck said, voice sounding surer. “He just got Christopher to accept it. I can’t- I won’t take that away from him.” The line was quiet for a bit before TK spoke again. “Hey, no, I get it, man. Just figured you should know.” Buck nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I appreciate it, TK. Thank you.” “Anytime, it’s what I’m here for.” He could hear the grin in the brunette’s voice. “You’re gay sherpa remember?” Buck laughed, feeling lighter and heavier all at the same time. “Yeah, I remember. Seriously though. Thank you, for everything. It means a lot.” “Whenever you need me,” TK assured. He wasn’t sure how the Strands had picked up on it but they seemed to know Buck didn’t have a lot of people he felt he could rely on, even now. “Hey look, I hate to leave you, but Carlos is getting off shift soon-” “Yeah, go go, it’s fine,” Buck was quick to reassure him. And it was fine even it didn’t feel like it. “Go be with your boyfriend.” “I will. Hey, you be safe alright?” “Yeah, I will. Thanks again.” “No problem. Talk to you later.” “Yeah later,” Buck waited for the line to go dead before pulling his phone away from his ear. It was getting closer to 8 am. Buck could crash out now or he could drive to the Diaz’s in time to take Christopher to school. Buck was out the door a few minutes later, bed unslept in and the apartment still ringing with the conversation from that morning. 

[austarus]

Harrison Wells (Eobard Thawne) Integrated Revelations (3/3)

**A/N: The picture/edit/gif does not belong to me.

**Hey guys, enjoy the final installment! Meanwhile, I’m going to go cry about physics because our physics department is shit and I’d rather much learn from Eo or Harry physics since they’ll actually teach me. Please don’t forget to comment, like, and reblog. It means a lot to content creators of all kinds! 

Part 1   Part 2

Word Count: 5770

“Right here,” future Barry responded calmly as he entered the Cortex. Both versions made eye contact before future Barry sighed to himself. He knew he royally screwed up big time. The speedster was supposed to be in and out with the speed equation. I didn’t intend to get them all tangled with- with that Time Wraith… What’s done is done, but at least I know Thawne and I are in the same boat. Barry took a glimpse at you. Not that it’ll matter anyway. He won’t deny the immense hole that would dig itself in your chest a year from now. Stoic and devoid of any of the warm emotions you normally bring to the labs. It… is what it is. Eddie made his choice that day, ‘there are no such things as coincidences’.

“Okay,” Cisco stepped out of the small lab with Caitlin following behind. “Not how I expected today to turn out.” You gave Eobard a look as if to say, you trained him. Eobard ignored the meaning behind your glance while you both remained in the side lab, observing the interaction between these four.

“Yeah,” Future Barry agreed quietly to himself.

“Okay, so I'm-who are... who are you?” Present Barry stumbled over his words, his mind trying to catch up with what his eyes were seeing.

“Who is he? Who are you?” Caitlin chimed in with an arched brow, eyes moving between the two Barry’s

Present Barry frowned at the biological genius. “What do you- I'm Barry. I'm Barry. Your Barry. He's-”

“-Your doppelganger.” You face-palmed at Cisco’s revelation, whispering an ‘oh my god’ to yourself while directed your gaze up to the ceiling. Eobard started to wheel out of the small side lab, where you and held be at the back of the standing group.

“No, not yet.” Eobard gave Future Barry a subtle incredulous look as he continued to talk. He clenched a fist tightly, resting an arm on the armrest of his wheelchair You mouthed, ‘Bro, just shut up!’ and even made hand gestures to your mouth. “I am you, Barry. Just… different.” Present Barry nodded in awe.

Cisco looked between the two, an urge to know which Barry’s a fraud or not, and if any of this is actually real, “Wait a second, how do we know which one's the real Barry?”

A hurt look crossed Present Barry’s puppy-like expression, “Dude, okay, I've watched ‘Wrath of Khan’ with you like five times.”

“Imposter!” Cisco pointed an accusatory finger at Future Barry. You know, the one that’s been running around this entire time after the comms incident and insistence on a speed equation.

Eobard just shook his head at the nonsense between the two Barry’s and Cisco, trying to somehow keep it together before he popped a blood vessel. “Yeah, and every time at the end, you turn to me and you say, ‘I have been and always shall be your friend’."

“Haha! You, imposter!” Cisco cried out in frustration, both arms directed at the two different Barry’s. Caitlin just narrowed her eyes to a squint at Present Barry. “What is going on here?” You were just baffled at this point and 1000% done with Bartholomew Henry Allen aka the best person to run his mouth and reveal everything.

“Okay, guys, I'm sorry. This was not supposed to happen. The tranq dart that Caitlin made,” Eobard started gesturing for Future Barry to not mention anything, “was supposed to last a lot longer.”

“I did not give him a tranq dart,” Caitlin defended herself, arms up as an act of innocence.

“Okay, no, yes, not you, the you from the time that I am from.” You were now just screaming on the inside because Future Barry just kept talking, revealing things he shouldn’t be and exactly what he did to knock his past self out. Eobard just gave up sending visual signs and mouth words to stop talking like any sensible person. You just gave Eobard an a ‘I don’t know what to do with this one anymore’ look, and you’re pretty sure he was have the same thoughts. You sighed inaudibly when Eobard just shook his head in defeat and shrugged his shoulders at you.

“The time that you are from?” Present Barry asked with a high level of disbelief, the words sounding foreign on his tongue.

“I think what he's trying to say is he's from the future,” Eobard finally stepped in (not literally, just figuratively), wheeling himself forward. His eyes hadn’t left Barry’s, maintaining a sort of placid look, but the emotion behind his eyes were far from stoic. Of course, now he was dealing with two ridiculous speedsters of his archnemesis. You saw Eobard run his thumb over the tips of his fingers on one hand while the other remained on the control panel of the wheelchair.

“The future?”

“Yeah.”

“The future?”

“Yes.”

“Wait, the future,” Present Barry was cut off the third time he asked.

“Yes,” replied for the third time in a flat tone, Eobard’s mind already launched into various ways to keep Present Barry from learning the truth of his identity and intentions. More importantly, all the ways the yellow speedster can keep you safe and out of the scarlet speedster’s grasp for any sort of leverage against himself.

“Are we saying I can time-travel?” Present Barry finally questioned his future self.

Future Barry chuckled lightly, nodding gently, “One day.”

“Oh, that explains the white on the symbol.” Cisco piped up once more, ideas whirling through his mind already. You saw your other best friend’s excitement rise at the possible time theories. “Well, wait a second. Suppose we now change your emblem. Will it be because we got the idea from this? Or, I mean, that would mean-”

“Stop talking.” Eobard shut Cisco up before rounding his heated gaze to Future Barry with a pointed finger. “You stop talking too, all right? More you say, the more the timeline is disrupted. Now I'm going to assume that your presence here is the reason that thing is attacking us. Hm?” Eobard tried a 3rd time to signal Barry to play along without giving any more information of the future to his past self and the others. The tone change should have been a clear indicator too.

“What? What thing?” Present Barry’s face contorted in confusion at Dr. Wells.

He legit looks like a lost puppy.

“Have you ever seen ‘The Frighteners’?” Cisco asked his present time buddy, who nodded at the reference. “It's sort of like that, but scarier and faster and it's after you-after him.” The mechanical genius corrected himself, pointed at the future version of his best friend.

“Yeah, it's been chasing me ever since I got here,” Future Barry confessed.

“Okay, so how do we stop it?” Present Barry looked to everyone for some kind of answer.

“We don't know.” You responded with Eobard, glancing at one another before running a hand through your hair tiredly. You wanted to just go home and lie down on a bed with a fluffy blanket with your boyfriend beside you, threading a hand through your hair while you give him teasing kisses just to hear that deep chuckle. Three Barry’s is too much in one day, if I’m going to be honest.

“Then what are we gonna do?” Present Barry raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“The one thing we can.” You and the others watched Eobard roll away, he had a plan or came up with some sort of reasonable plan. Both Barry’s glanced at each other once more, but this time a look of awe and a wave of thrill definitely rushed through both. Possibly infecting Cisco along with them. But they knew better, knew that this Time Wraith creature could hurt anyone and that the Team needed leveled heads to eradicate it.

***

“What-What are we doing here?” Future Barry questioned, entering the Time Vault with you and Eo. His green eyes couldn’t help but glance over the yellow suit with Dr. McGee’s Tachyon device attached to it. The staged night mulled through his mind rapidly thanks to his speedster abilities. How they were all tricked into essentially handing it over to the Reverse Flash. Either way it seemed that Thawne was going to get it. Charging it up for the next time Eobard would need it. Pressing your lips to a thin line, you immediately drew up the necessary schematics and scans for the city on your tablet.

“We're here for the answer to your speed equation...” Eobard held up an odd flash drive as he stepped over to the plinth, popping it in. The villainous speedster turned back to you and Barry. “The reason that you traveled back to this time, and the key to running faster. Tachyon enhancement.”

“The tachyons should give you just enough speed to time travel back to your time without getting caught by the Time Wraith.” You added in, not really knowing if this Barry has actually used Tachyons before or not. “If anything, you just need to time things right to get through the breach and have someone on the other side destroy the Time Wraith. Either way once you start using your speed it’ll find you.”

“I know what it does, I just don’t see why you’re needed here when you can be helping the others out there,” Barry scowled at you, to which you rolled your eyes with lips pressed into a thin line. You’re already done with this shit attitude since he’s been here, but the frostiness in his demeanor honestly did hurt in some part of your heart. The corner of Eobard’s mouth twitched with the amount of disrespect that he’s been showing you since this version of Barry Allen had traveled here.

“That’s it, if you keep talking to her like that then there’s going to be more hell to pay for it. You won’t be just dealing with the Time Wraith, Allen.”

“Is that a threat?”

“It’s a warning,” Eobard looked at Barry with dangerously feral eyes. “You have a problem; you deal with me. Don’t you dare think of involving her in this feud.”

Barry kept his mouth shut for a moment, “This was not the deal.” He gestured to the plinth.

Eobard retracted the flash drive from the white column plinth once everything had been correctly copied to it. “If you think that I'm gonna hold your hand this entire way, you're sadly mistaken. Everything you need is on this drive. You follow its instructions; you will enhance the Speed Force in your system and run faster...” He dropped it in Barry’s open palm, “than you ever thought possible.”

“If this doesn't work, I'm coming back.”

Yeah, please don’t. I’m content without dealing with another Barry-time incident.

Cisco’s voice erupted from the comms set up all over the labs. “Dr. Wells, we need you.”

Eobard gave Barry one last look, whether it was a warning or a threat, you couldn’t tell. “Time to go home, Flash,” he responded sardonically.

***

The futuristic speedster exhaled through his nostrils, rubbing his face harshly as we stepped up from his wheelchair. The labs were vacant at the moment. His mind reeled through all the events that happened today. Tropical waters blue eyes flickered to the windows, he noticed that the sun was still in the air from the amount filtering into the Cortex. Eobard shifted his focus to the computer monitor, a thought whirling in his mind ever since both versions of this present time’s Barry had showed up. Words, phrases, hints. Everything that both had said to him about his future. I can’t trust either. With furrowed eyebrow’s, the dark-haired Wells impersonator ran a finger over the knuckles of his opposite hand. Not with my life on the line and her heart caught in the crossfire of it all. Guilt welled up in his chest, causing his stomach to churn uncomfortably.

A few seconds passed, he pulled out his phone to check the time. That was the excuse he gave himself because Eobard Tiberius Thawne knew exactly what time it was, there were clocks almost on every monitor screen in the cortex. But really, he was checking his lock screen picture. It was a picture of you on the beach of Coast City, gazing out onto the shoreline with the sun setting behind you. The fluffy clouds were dusted with velvety pinks and fiery oranges while the sun dipped to meet the cool blue waters. A candid picture, if you will. The sight of you allowed his tensed muscles to relax slightly. Eobard remembered how his heart had forcibly stopped, urging him to take a picture. How you added even more beauty to nature’s elegant scenery. How the waves gently glided with each, only to cascade onto the beach. You had coaxed Eobard to finally get out of the labs for once, to just take a trip somewhere for the evening. He had some speed after all. Just some time for you and him, that Barry and the others can handle one evening without him for guidance. “They’re adults Eo, let them handle a meta situation by themselves.” His heart ached if he were to… pass, leaving you here to face the others… alone.

His thoughts flickered back to the current situation at hand. He didn’t- He didn’t want to go down that trail of somber thoughts. Eobard had finally managed to convince you to go home for the day, he saw the exhaustion on your tensed shoulders, and he worried. He had allowed Barry to speed you home, that way you’d have arrived safely. The speedster knew what you would exactly do once you got home. Change into that new set of pajamas she recently bought, make some food while singing at the top of her lungs. Probably scare off a few birds and squirrels in the process. It’s sushi night, tonight. That’ll be interesting to see her make. Reluctantly, Eobard had to push thoughts of tonight off to the back of his ind.

“Alright.” A long sigh left his lips as he plopped down on a chair, adjusting his dark-clear glasses and recording remote in hand. Eobard slipped off his glasses, pressing his lips together tightly while avoiding the gaze of the camera. He needed to record some kind of will in case… Finally, looking up, he saw the determination in his own eyes, the realization of how his words could also be a possibility of occurring. “Hello, Barry. If you're watching this, that means something has gone horribly wrong.” While Eobard gathered his thoughts, he paused as an image of you popped into his head, he looked away. He swallowed thickly, “I'm dead and the last 15 years have been for nothing. Bummer.” He quirked an eyebrow ironically as his eyes meet the camera once more.

***

You pouted slightly, staring down at the bottle of painkillers on the granite-top island before your eyes glanced to your boyfriend’s alcohol cabinet. The headache would just not go away! With socked feet, you stood in the chilly kitchen in a new oversized sweatshirt and cotton running shorts. Your hair was in a loose, messy bun with the hood up over your head because the bum look is the most comfortable look, if we’re being honest. Do I want to make good choices tonight? You swallowed a bit and tapped a finger to your chin with your eyes flickering between the two once more. Your left arm crossed over your chest with your right elbow resting in your left palm, clenching and unclenching your right hand. Eeny, meeny, miny, moe, you chanted in your head as a pointed finger went back and forth between the Ibuprofen and alcohol cabinet. Halfway through the nursery rhyme, you found your gaze lingering more and more to Eobard’s tempting stash. Bad choices it is. With that you push the pills further away on the island and stomp over to the cabinet.

Why the fuck is bourbon the only thing here? You tilted your head with a raised eyebrow at the two fancy glass bottles. I swear this is the only thing he drinks when he needs to let loose a bit. Fancy bastard. Puffing out a breath, you grabbed the weighty glass bottle and shut the cabinet. I should get him to try a margarita or something. Pouring yourself half a cup of the amber-ish liquid, adding in a few ice cubes as you had seen Eobard do. You sealed the alcohol and put it away. You took a small sip, mentally knowing whether it tasted good or bad, you’d finish it. The liquid burned the back of your throat, allowing you to cough a bit before really tasting the drink. You shrugged looking at the cup. Not bad… I can see why he’s addicted to it. Though I still prefer my fruity drinks to hard liquor.

You saw a torrent of red lighting flash past the front door and to the direction of your shared bedroom. Someone’s home early. Shutting your eyes for a moment, you leaned back against the opposing counter to the island close to the fridge.

After a few moments, your speedster boy toy (yes, you use that phrase to describe Eobard mentally, ignoring its actually meaning because well… he’s your man and… he vibrates. Like a toy. You’re welcome.) strides through his home and to the kitchen, a towel hanging around his shoulders as he uses one hand to dry his hair. Eobard shot you a concerned look after seeing the bourbon and painkillers out.

“Don’t worry, I decided to make bad decisions with only alcohol.” You stand with one leg crossed in front of the other, handing him the cup so he can take a sip. He wouldn’t ever refuse his bourbon. “What happened to conserving your speed?”

“Couldn’t miss out on sushi night, also I wanted to wash up from all the... You know. I had too many Barry’s around me and I needed to scrub that off.” He shrugged at you, sipping the whiskey drink. You giggled, shaking your head at his dramatics about ‘Barry germs’. Eobard smiled to himself at your giggle, the sound of it made his speedster heart do multiple flips. He threw the towel in an empty bin by the laundry room.

“Sushi is located on the bottom shelf of the fridge.”

Eobard set the cup down and slightly narrowed his eyes at you. “Oh, you’re evil.”

“Learned from the best,” you winked at him, taking back your cup and downing the alcohol. Payback’s a bitch for all the times you purposefully put my things on the highest top shelf.

Slipping out the plate of sushi, there were six rolls left because obviously you ate some while you waited for him to come home. To be fair, you would have devoured the rest if he decided to stay in late at the labs. He took a roll and ate it while you poured yourself another drink with a second cup for him as well. “Mm, these are actually good. Nicely done, kitten.” He teased when he fully indulged in its taste and texture with that boyish smirk of his. You couldn’t help but play along.

“Are you insinuating that I’m not a good cook?”

“You’re just questionable at times, depends on the recipe.” Eobard continued eating, savoring every delectable sushi roll.

“At least I didn’t burn the pasta last time.”

“That was one time and I had to deal with Cisco and Barry on the phone!”

“Excuses, excuses,” you replied with a satisfied hum, pushing his glass to him.

“What about the time you added sugar instead of salt to the Königsberger Klopse?”

“They look the exact same and they were beside each other! It was an accident and you know it.”

“Excuses, excuses,” he mocked you with a cheeky grin, picking you up and setting you to sit on top of the cool granite island top. He leaned down to plant a kiss to your lips, a hand trailing to up your thigh. You shivered at his touch.

“You know, I didn’t notice it until today, but Barry’s a bit taller than you.”

“Your point?”

“Think it’s kinda ironic though. You’re shorter than he is, and you don’t have all your speed right now.”

“…”

“Is that also another reason why you hate him?”

“He’s like an inch taller than me, hardly anything to compete with him about. And my speed exceeds his own, especially in the past and with experience.” Eobard growled lowly, “Less thinking about him, more focus on kissing me.”

A cheery noise left your lips when he leaned once more for another kiss. This time hungrier with a hint of possessiveness. You knew how to push his buttons. Wrapping your arms around him, you pulled the speedster closer to you which allowed him to slot between your open legs. He smirked against your lips, feeling himself press against you. You played with the little hairs at the back of his neck as he began to nip at your lips. A little gasp left you which allowed his tongue to enter, exploring your mouth as you made a little satisfactory noise. His lips devoured your own. Your body moved on its own, pressing closer to him, his hands roughly wrapped your legs around his waist. The air felt hot and sticky, his speedster body warming up significantly at your every touch. Your hood fell off your head from the passionate kiss, loose strands of hair falling out from your messy bun. It felt exhilarating! Pulling away with one slow and sensual kiss, Eobard rested his forehead against yours as a heavy breath left him. His half-lidded eyes glossed over yourself- cheeks tinted red, breathing raggedly from the intensity of the kiss, and lips wonderfully swollen.

You both shared a small breath, feeling the world spin and spin, but the moment was just intoxicating. Neither of you wanted the moment to end. Letting out a yawn, you covered your mouth and Eo just chuckled lowly. Your hands now rested against his chest, feeling the pounding of his pulse underneath your palm. Eobard licked his lips at you, kissing your neck and nibbling lightly on your collarbone. You sucked in a breath, one hand running through his dark locks. His ears perked at the sound of his name leaving your pouty lips. Kneeling down for a moment, Eobard kissed the inside of your thigh before glancing up at you. You had your bottom lip between your teeth, gently gnawing at it as you observed him. The speedster only winked at you, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively before giving you a few more kisses and nibbles. He stood up once more to tower over you, kissing your temple as another yawn fell from you.

You’re too cute, my precious queen.

Eobard sped you to the bedroom with fiery red eyes and a coy smirk on his face, plopping you on the plush king-sized bed. A bed you had to continually badgered him to get with the promise that ‘rolling around in it’ would be much more fun than just with a queen-sized bed. He had already propped you up against the large pillows and under the comfort of the blankets. Eobard took the spot beside you, carding a hand through his now wild tresses. The speedster noticed your pained expression when you reached for your forehead, his insides churned at the sight. He reached out a cool hand to gently massage your temples. A little hum of relief escaped your lips, shutting your eyes at his cold fingers. The scientist assumed your alcohol consumption tonight was to lessen any pain from your head.

“That feels nice,” You mused to your boyfriend, curling up beside him. He curled his arms around you, your head resting on his sturdy chest. “The Barry that traveled with his daughter, I saw a few things when they talked.”

“I figured, have… you seen anything else?”

You shook your head ‘no’. “Only Savitar and Cicada, just the general foresight of their appearance,” you fiddled with the necklace he had given you, looking away. Eobard’s eyes caught the shift in your mood.

“What’s wrong, kitten?”

“Hm, nothing.”

“You only ever play with your necklace when something’s bothering you.” Eobard ran his teeth of his lower lip before taking one of your hands in his. “I swore to you that I would tell you whatever’s on my mind, especially when prompted by you. We both promised to be honest with each other, especially when it’s about our feelings.” His thumb rubbed soothing circles on your skin. The dark-haired man’s other hand hooked a finger under your chin, tilting your head to look at his softened gaze. He waited patiently for you.

You pulled away from him, “I just-I don’t know which Barry to trust. You… what if your plan to go home still fails? Even after they’d assured you’d go home when you help them? Both versions!” Your headache started to form once more, but not from your psychic powers. There was something else you weren’t entirely sure of either…

“…” Eobard exhaled through his nose soundlessly. He hadn’t wanted you to pick up on those clues… It broke him that you did. “I can only do what I can to go back. Failure isn’t an option. Not anymore, especially with how far I’ve gone.” The murdering, lying, stealing, scheming, and masquerading. All of it. “Do you trust me?”

“Always.”

“Then trust my plan… I’m doing everything I can with the least amount of collateral damage being caused in this time period.” You just nodded at his words, but that didn’t alleviate the certain weight you now secretly carried in your heart. Sighing to yourself, you decided to push it aside for the night.

“I hate how you can read me like an open book.”

“I hate that that beautiful mind of yours doubts yourself.” Eobard ran a hand over his face. I like that I can read you because then I can understand you. Especially if it’s when I can be doing better when it comes to us. I’m harder to read because… I’ve never really had someone quite like you in my life. Someone I can trust with no doubt in mind that you’re using me or going to backstab me. I’ll do better, I promise. For you, I’ll be good.

Pressing your lips into a thin line, you shift away from him on the bed to sit up with a serious look in your eyes. “I-I need you to be honest with me.”

“Always.”

“No lies. No shading the truth. None of that.”

The dark-haired speedster nods, returning your seriousness by adjusting himself. He wouldn’t dream of lying to you, ever. When he came clean to you and swore to you, Eobard intended to keep his word. You were the one thing that… that he wouldn’t mind spending the rest of his life with. Someone as precious as you that had grown so close to his crooked heart. His love that he could confide in all his fears and doubts and thoughts. You’re his special person.

“Eobard,” you started, “What do you think of me? Like, when you look at me?”

He remained quiet for a moment, looking past you before refocusing his eyes onto your locked gaze. A smile twitched at the corners of his lips. “I think of a cheeky and persistent person that can be a real pain in my ass sometimes.” You raised an eyebrow at him and crossed your arms as he continued. “But a spectacle, nonetheless, put together with strong willpower and fierce determination to achieve whatever she puts her mind to. I think of that kind heart of yours and… how it accepted a flawed and corrupt man as myself. I see a queen that keeps me grounded, a person that encourages me to grow and achieve my goals. I think of home.” You had unfurled your arms, your gaze softening as your heart ached at his words. “A home that I can return to at the end of the day with no shame. I can just be a man with none of my baggage or sins. I-I can love you with no guilt or shame or doubt. All your imperfections and quirks, they’re mine to cherish.” The scientist had traced the side of your face as his piercing gaze held you down, hypnotizing you.

“Eo,” you trailed off as he took a hold of your hand, softly kissing each knuckle. Leaning forward, you place a chaste kiss on his forehead before reaching for his lips. The kiss was soft, heartwarming, pure. All the things that the Reverse Flash was not because of his atrocious deeds in this time period and hunger for revenge against Barry Allen in whatever way possible, yet… Another thought flickered through your mind as your lips parted his. “Is Gideon able to tell you what happens to your future?”

Eobard simply shook his head, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “It only reveals the article about Barry, my supposed final battle with The Flash before he disappears.” After a Crisis, but which one would come first?

“But then what happens to you?”

“I don’t know.”

You sucked a breath in before opening your mouth once more, “I don’t want to be without you.” Is that selfish?

Eobard’s eyes widened a fraction, his stomach fluttering.He licked his lips slowly, eyeing your desperate gaze. “If I wasn’t a selfish man, I would have stayed away. But I am selfish and just the way you look, even then, it fuels my desire to be by your side. At every moment. Until death do us part.”

Your breath hitched; you should have been scared- terrified- repulsed- by his words. Red flags that would have gone off in any person’s mind, but- “I’m selfish too,” you whispered the words that came from the heart. Eobard watched you with electric blue eyes, a feral flash of red flickered behind his irises. You trailed a hand over his chest and over his heart. “Your mind, your heart,” You glanced at him under your eyelashes, “are mine. I don’t want them to belong to anyone else.”

“I’m not a good man. I can’t be what you want me to be.” I will never be good for you.

“…” You pressed your lips into a thin line. “You’re not good man, Eobard, but you’re more than enough for me.”

“You should have run the first time you found out.”

“I should have, but I don’t regret choosing you… I don’t want anyone else but you, Eo.”

“I am yours, and you are mine.” The speedster was truly smitten by you, gingerly he cupped your face with a firm hand as his azure eyes met yours. “I would do everything in my power to come back home to you.” He craned his head down to reconnect your lips together. There were no limits to how far Eobard Tiberias Thawne would go for him to remain by your side.

Even if it meant killing another person.

***

Barry and Nora ran through the speed-force, memories and events weaving past them as the sped through to return to their present time. “Back in Time,” by Huey Lewis still played in the background right as the touched the concrete ground of the Cortex.

“Did you even go?” Ralph asked with a terrified-ish look on his face.

Caitlin and Cisco just chuckled at their friend. Cisco shut of the music, “Told you time travel was weird.”

You had stopped in the corridor, overhearing the team in the hallway. Frozen in place as things started to set in your mind. A headache washed over you, but you had gotten used to them by now. You had to after Flashpoint. But you knew things had gone south, and by south, they had to take a detour. You were digesting the immediate revelations, all of it integrating together as things in the past now made sense. Both versions of Barry Allen knew the outcome. Yet Nora and her father revealed more than they should have to Eobard. After all, your psychic abilities allowed you to see what happens if the timeline that you’re involved in. Especially when it had to do with one handsomely intelligent and driven speedster by the name of Eobard Tiberias Thawne.

But did things really change? I’m still here. And Eobard…

You ran a hand over your face, pinching the bridge of your nose. Your feet carried you to the Time Vault while the others prepared for tonight. Pressing a hand to the wall, you unlocked the futuristic door into the neutral-colored room. A chill ran down your spine as you approached the plinth. Waving a hand over the circular center, you activated Gideon. The AI appeared in all its holographic form.

“Yes, Ms. (Y/N)?”

“Gideon,” your fingers ran over the chain of your necklace, “I need your help with something.”

“I am at your service.”

“I need you to…” you ran your tongue over your lips. Heart pounding in your chest as you chose your next words carefully. “I need you to tell me where Eobard is?”

“I’m sorry Ms. (Y/N), but I am unable to process your request right now.”

“Why?” Your voice rose, red was now seeping into your vision.

“It is not within my programming capabilities.”

“Is Eobard alive?”

“I’m sorry, but that is also out of my-”

“Then what good are you for?” You yelled in pure frustration, a fist slamming harshly onto the white column. A tear had left your eyes. Your body trembled as your voice shook when you spoke up again, “Gideon please, anything. Any news about Eobard is all I need. Any sign that he is alive. I can’t-”

Until death do us part.

“…” The AI was silent for a moment while you collected yourself miserably. “There is a hidden message for you that Dr. Wells wished for you to receive. Would you like to read the message?”

“A-a message, what-” You ran both hand through your locks, glassy eyes searching the placid look on the AI. The stone of doubt was slowly eroding away from your heart. “I-I, yes! Please!” The AI pulled up a screen, three simple words were configured in medium-sized black lettering. Your heart stopped for a moment as your hands tingled. Blinking a few times, you reread the words over and over and over- as it stared back at you.

Wait for me.

[westallenfun]

A Most Unexpected Love, Chapter 1

WestAllen secret santa gift

From: @jade4813

For: @sophisticatedloserchick

Author Notes: For the lovely @sophisticatedloserchick from @jade4813! Merry Christmas, and I hope you like my first fic after a long hiatus!

Title: A Most Unexpected Love

Rating: PG

Synopsis: Iris has loved Eddie Thawne Allen her entire life. When she returns home just before Christmas, it looks like she might finally have a chance to catch his eye…unless an accident puts his older brother, Barry, directly in her path. Story inspired by Sabrina (with some quotes lifted more or less directly from the source material).

Chapters: 1/7

Chapter One

For almost as long as she could remember, Iris Ann West had been in love with Eddie Thawne Allen. That it was utterly hopeless was a lesson she had learned at the tender age of eleven, but since she had lost her heart to him at age six, that knowledge hardly did any good. Eddie – or Eobard, named after a great-great-great-grandfather or some such; Iris could never remember, but it was far too stodgy of a name for him anyway – was the younger son of Henry and Nora Allen, her father’s wealthy employers. So of course he was leagues above her. But that didn’t matter; her love had never been dependent upon reciprocation. For most of her life, she had been content to worship him from afar.

She would never forget the moment he had first captured her heart. They had just moved into the Allens’ home – her dad having just started his new job as the head of their security team – when the gardener’s son, Christopher, had stolen her favorite toy. Four years older (and a good foot taller) than she was, Christopher had taunted her with his prize, dangling it over her head and pulling it out of her reach in an attempt to make her cry. Iris had been about to punch him in the nose for his trouble, since her father’s lessons on self-defense extended beyond his employers – when Eddie had appeared out of nowhere. He’d retrieved her toy from her tormenter, offered the other boy a stern word of warning, and handed it back to her with a kind smile.

It was in that moment that Iris’s heart had been lost. He had swooped in from out of nowhere to save the day, and it didn’t matter that her day didn’t actually need saving. He’d been her hero nevertheless. He had been like a knight in the fairy tales her mother had read her when she was younger; all tall and blonde and perfect.

Of course, since he was the younger son of the family and she was the daughter of a member of staff, Eddie and Iris seldom interacted. He often seemed oblivious to her very existence, in fact, but that did nothing to quell her devotion to him. She was content to watch from the sidelines as he charmed children and adults alike, always shining like the brightest star in every room he occupied. She marveled at his easy manners and infectious smile, and as she grew older, she imagined what it would be like to have that smile turned upon her.

On the other hand, his brother Bartholomew – three years older than Eddie and herself – couldn’t have been more different. Where Eddie was easy-going, Bartholomew was reserved. Where Eddie approached life with a laugh and consequences with a devil-may-care attitude, his brother approached each decision with careful deliberation. And where Eddie lit up every room he entered, Bartholomew tended to remain on the sidelines. Rarely penetrating her conscious awareness, at least when Eddie was around.

Iris didn’t have any reason to dislike the elder brother. In fact, he’d always been unfailingly polite to her. One day, shortly after they’d moved in, he’d caught Iris reading in the garden and had invited her to borrow from his family’s library in a surprisingly thoughtful gesture. He had offered to teach her how to ride a horse – a proposal she’d quickly declined because horses had frightened her at that age. When she was ill, he brought by soup prepared by their chef, and she always found gifts he had chosen for her and her father under the tree at Christmas.

But all of that was to be expected, she supposed. Bartholomew (who had asked her to call him Barry years and years ago, but that seemed entirely too informal for him) was Henry and Nora’s oldest child. He would take over the family businesses in due course. He was only doing what someone in his situation would be expected to do. And so it was that Iris was content to fan the flames of her one-sided infatuation of Eddie while maintaining a polite if distance cordiality with Bartholomew. Until one fateful day when she was sixteen.

She had been walking through the woods when she somehow stepped badly, tripped over a root, and rolled her ankle on the way down. Unable to bite back her sharp cry of distress, Iris had fought back tears as she cradled the injured area, in too much pain to put weight on it so that she could return home.

Then, out of the woods, like an angel come down from Heaven, he had appeared to act as her hero once more, Bartholomew at his side. They had been strolling nearby when they’d heard her cry out and had rushed to her aid. Eddie hadn’t even hesitated before he kneeling next to her, asking if she was okay, while his brother had stood back a bit, watching her in concern. He had said nothing as Eddie verified that her ankle indeed seemed sprained, but Iris didn’t really care. Eddie was there, mere inches away, cradling her ankle in his lap and staring at her with those blue, blue eyes. Bartholomew could have been on the moon for all she’d noticed him.

Pain or no pain, she could have stayed like that all day, except that Eddie had jumped to his feet and offered to fetch her father to come help. “Oh, no, that’s not necessary,” she’d protested, aching at the all-too-brief encounter.

Meanwhile, Bartholomew had begun in his typical, reasonable tone, “We could probably—”

But Eddie wasn’t listening. “I’ll be right back!” he’d promised before turning and darting back towards home, and Iris had let out a frustrated sigh. Bartholomew had followed suit, his attention darting from Iris to his brother’s back before looking at Iris again.

She hadn’t known what he was thinking; but, then, she’s rarely thought about Bartholomew at all and had in fact almost forgotten his presence until he’d spoken again. “It may be a while for him to find your dad, and you can’t just sit out here indefinitely. Do you think you could walk a little if I helped support your weight?”

It had been (naturally, given the speaker) a perfectly reasonable solution, but Iris was unjustly irritable at him for having made it. She’d been hoping Eddie would return to sweep her into his arms and carry her back home himself. Sure, it seemed unlikely he would do so, and she certainly hadn’t twisted her ankle with any such plan in mind. But she’d thought it would have been nice. Indeed, it would have been the perfect opportunity for her to get closer to Eddie (if he’d only return without her dad in tow), and now his brother was ruining it.

She’d let out a small huff of frustration. “I guess,” she’d grumbled rather churlishly. Bartholomew had blinked a few times, seemingly taken aback by her mood, but he’d moved to crouch at her side nonetheless. Moving slowly, with almost uncharacteristic uncertainty, he had wrapped his arm around her waist and steadied her as she lumbered to her feet. When she let out a soft hiss of pain at putting weight on her injured ankle, he had shifted his hold on her so that he was carrying a greater amount of her weight on that side.

Setting her chin in a determined angle, Iris had hobbled forward several steps, feeling a little guilty about her uncharitable thoughts as she wished it was Eddie by her side. Even still, she couldn’t help but be annoyed that it was Bartholomew instead. Why hadn’t he gone for help and left his brother behind? Then things would have been perfect. Her pain would have been worth it.

She’d let out a heavy sigh of frustration, and she felt Bartholomew shift his hold on her again. “Are you okay? Do you need to take a break?”

“No, I just – ow!” she’d cried out, so distracted by thoughts of how wonderful it would be if she was spending this time with Eddie that she stepped wrong and caused a sharp stab of pain to radiate from her ankle.

He’d pulled her to a halt, holding her steady while she caught her breath and waited for the swell of pain to subside. Finally, when she was able to straighten slightly again, he’d offered tentatively, “You know…I’m really scared we’re going to make your ankle worse if we keep this up. I-if you want, I could, um, I could…carry you?”

“What? No! Don’t be ridiculous!” she’d cried automatically, even as her mind had conjured images of Eddie lifting her into his strong arms to carry her home. Her head would have rested perfectly against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. Even when they returned home, he wouldn’t have put her on her feet right away, as reluctant to release her as she would be set free. He’d stare into her eyes and, in that moment, he would realize what had been in front of him all along. He’d open his mouth to finally say the words she’d been longing to hear for so long. “Iris, I—”

“Well, I think it’s going to start raining soon, and that might make everything worse,” Bartholomew had pointed out pragmatically, throwing a bucket of cold water all over her fantasy.

She’d huffed and looked around, praying she would see Eddie rushing back to her. Regrettably, he’d been nowhere in sight. She’d glowered up at the grey clouds above, her irritation growing when she realized it did indeed look like rain. Frustrated at her thwarted fantasies, she’d dropped her gaze to Bartholomew’s and snapped, “Why did you have to be you? Why couldn’t you have gone to get my dad and left Eddie behind?”

She’d felt badly about her words the moment they’d left her mouth, as Bartholomew’s head had jerked back as if she’d slapped him. She’d braced herself for him to snap at her, but he hadn’t, which somehow had made her feel worse. Instead, he’d cleared his throat and asked, “I understand if you don’t want me to – well, if you’d rather take a break and rest for a minute. I’m sure Eddie will be back soon. We can find a place for you to sit so you’re not putting weight on your ankle.”

Feeling wretched and ashamed, Iris had dropped her gaze to the ground as she mumbled, “No. I-I want to go home now. Please.”

He’d nodded, one swift, decisive, jerk of his head. Bending to loop his arm behind her knees, he’d said, “Okay. You ready? Go ahead and put your arm around my neck, and make sure you keep your weight on me. I’m going to pick you up in three…two…one.”

She’d never really thought about Bartholomew’s physical strength – other than to think it came second to Eddie’s, as all things did. So she’d been somewhat surprised to find how easily he lifted her and carried her back toward the house, his long legs eating up the distance with surprising speed. He hadn’t even sound winded as he stepped onto the gravel pathway leading to the side door that was closest to the rooms she shared with her dad. Whether she’d have been able to hear his heartbeat if she rested her head against his chest, she didn’t know, since she’d flatly refused to put her head there.

They’d remained silent the entire way back to her door, but when he’d put her gently back onto her feet, the good manners her parents had drilled into her head overcame her embarrassment. Her gaze fixed somewhere around his feet, she’d mumbled, “Thank you for helping me get home, and I’m sorry. About earlier, I mean. I was in a bad mood, but I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. I appreciate your help. Really.”

“It’s okay,” he’d told her sheepishly. “I understand. You love Eddie.” Mortified, she’d shot a look at his face, and he’d lifted his hands in an appeasing gesture. “I’m not judging! Lots of people love my brother. He’s always been lucky like that. It’s just, I thought for once—” His voice had trailed off, and she watched as his cheeks turned red.

Though she’d suspected she should leave it alone, she hadn’t been able to help herself. “What?”

Bartholomew had sighed, his shoulders lifting and falling in an awkward shrug. “I thought you saw me.” Scowling, he’d looked away from her before mumbling, “Anyway, you should take it easy on that ankle. I’ll have my dad stop by and check on you when he gets a chance.”

“Thanks,” she’d said, but he’d merely nodded at her and walked away, shoving his hands into  his pockets, his head bowed.

She hadn’t realized it at the time (and wouldn’t have cared even if she had), but that would be the last time that she and Bartholomew would be alone or speak honestly with each other for several years. She’d never have cause fault him for his manners; he remained unfailingly polite and even thoughtful in his choice of gifts for her and her dad on birthdays and holidays. But from that moment in the woods, the distance between them only continued to grow.

By the time Iris left for college, she and Bartholomew were all but strangers, and Eddie had still never seemed to really register her existence. Perhaps the latter was a blessing, because it might have made it easier for her to go. She couldn’t believe her luck when was admitted to her top-choice school overseas and was even more astonished when she received a scholarship to attend from an anonymous benefactor.

Her first few months at the school were bittersweet; she missed her dad, he friends, and of course Eddie. But over time, her fixation on Eddie lessened, even if her devotion did not. She made new friends, explored new interests, and even went on dates with other men. And every so often, she’d read the society pages back home to see what the Allen family were up to in her absence. It seemed like every week, Eddie had a new woman on his arm – a fact which initially brought her pain but which she eventually was able to accept with an indulgent laugh.

And then the unthinkable happened. Almost a year after she left, Henry Allen died unexpectedly, and Iris managed to get a few days off school to return home for the funeral. Her first encounter with Eddie upon her return caused her heart to race no less than it had before, but she noticed with some degree of surprise that it was Bartholomew she couldn’t stop watching at the funeral.

Later, she would console herself with the thought that her attention had likely not been entirely consumed by Eddie because his open display of grief had garnered the attention of many – including several pretty ladies – who seemed eager to congregate around him to offer their sympathy and support. Bartholomew, on the other hand, remained somewhat apart, staying silent until approached directly. While most attendees to the funeral watched Eddie, Bartholomew watched his mother, offering her a glass of water or his arm for support whenever her strength seemed to flag.

Once – just once – as the coffin was being slowly lowered into its eternal resting place, Bartholomew looked up and met her eyes. His features were frozen, but she saw his eyes were red, filled with tears that he refused to shed, and her heart broke for him. It was then that she remembered his words from the last time they had really spoken. “I thought you saw me.”

He looked away quickly, and Iris tried to turn her attention back to Eddie. But when the service had concluded and they returned to the Allen home for the repast, Iris found herself preoccupied with thoughts of how Bartholomew was faring. She wanted to talk to him, to make sure he was okay, but she didn’t get a chance since she only saw him briefly, as he was busy seeing to his guests’ comfort and making sure they had enough refreshments to go around.

It seemed strange, that he would spend such an event worrying about other people. So it felt perfectly natural that she should want to check on him, to offer him her condolences for his loss. With that in mind, she’d sought him out, eventually finding him in his father’s study, hands clasped behind his back as he stared gravely out the window.

Inexplicably shy in his company – though she’d never been so before – Iris approached without a word, taking a position at his side. If he needed her, she would be there for him, but if he would rather his peace be undisturbed, she wouldn’t pressure him. After a moment, she saw him turn toward her and took this as an invitation to speak. “I don’t mean to disturb you. I just wanted to tell you that so sorry about your dad,” she murmured softly, the words sounding inane in her own ears.

He paused, and she watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed heavily before he could speak, his voice thick with emotion. “Thank you. I’m, uh, I’m glad you could come. It would have meant a lot to him. He – he thought very highly of you, you know.”

“The feeling was mutual,” she said with a wistful smile. In her position as daughter of an employee, she couldn’t claim that she’d ever been terribly close with either Henry or Nora Allen. Or with their children, come to that. But the elder Allens always been kind to her, taking an interest in her when she was in their presence and remembering her when she wasn’t. She tried for something profound – or at least comforting – but her brain resorted to inanity once more as she offered a lame, “He’ll be missed.”

Bartholomew nodded, turning his attention back to the window, and Iris almost took that as her cue to leave except that he spoke again. “Your dad has been very proud of you this year. I’m sure you won’t be surprised to hear that he takes every opportunity to tell everyone who’ll listen how well you’re doing.” She didn’t know what to say to that, so she didn’t say anything at all, and a brief silence fell between them once more. Eventually, he broke it by asking, “Do you like it? School, I mean.”

Iris recognized he was probably looking for anything to talk about that would take his mind off his own grief, and so she lingered, turning to look out the window as well. “For the most part. I can’t say I love all the classes, and it was hard at first, being so far from home. But I’ve made some friends, and I just got a part-time job that’s flexible with school and will tide me over between semesters.”

He looked at her in surprise. “Oh, I thought you might come home over breaks.”

She shrugged. “Yeah, I thought about it. But I decided I wanted to get a job and help out, and my dad said he’d come visit me whenever he can.”

Bartholomew let out a soft sound in the back of his throat. “Well, if there’s ever anything else you need, all you need to do is ask.” She didn’t immediately catch that strange word, else, and wouldn’t until she was on the plane back home, too late to ask him what it meant. Instead, when she started to thank him, he waved it away, visibly uncomfortable by her gratitude. “Anyway, I’m glad you’re enjoying school,” he said, glancing down at her once more. “You should do something that makes you happy.”

She started to reply, but unfortunately (though she wouldn’t register the misfortune of it for some time), it was just then that Iris heard a loud sob behind her and looked over her shoulder to see that Eddie in the hallway, surrounded by his usual phalanx of admirers. She hesitated, inwardly debating stepping out to check on him but not wanting to abandon the man by her side. Her indecision became moot, however, as by the time she turned back to her companion, Bartholomew had walked away. She looked around just in time to see him step through an adjoining door, and though she cried out after him, he seemed not to have heard her as the door swung closed behind him.

It occurred to her on her long flight back to school that she was always a victim of timing when it came to Bartholomew. But what did that matter? Her heart did – and always would – belong to Eddie. There weren’t many things she was certain of in the world, but she was certain of that.

[goldeneyedgirl]

whumptober time

I’ve always been a joiner, so following in @volturialice & @flowerslut’s footsteps (and holy hell, those ladies are bringing it), I figured I’d toss my hat in the ring. Not sure if I’ll get many done, but I can only try! And what better way to try that to start with a spontaneous MCU crossover. 

Day 08: Where Did Everybody Go?

“Don’t Say Goodbye” | Abandoned | Isolation

Rating: T for swearing

Words: 2,482

Summary: Twilight X MCU crossover. The Snap doesn’t just kill humans. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

Notes: Takes place a couple of weeks after the Eclipse Battle/ at the end of Infinity War. Yup, now Twilight happens in 2018. I should just call this ‘Jar of Hearts’ but that feels a big grisly. Ideally, I’ll be writing three more parts to this for Whumptober or for Jalice Week (depending on prompts). 

It was a normal night for them. There was nothing to indicate anything was wrong. The boys had gone hunting together, deep into the Olympic Ranges for predators.

If he had to remember one thing about that hunt, it was how … pleasant it was. They’d all caught what they had hoped for (with a helpful map from Alice). There were no disagreements, no mood-swings, no storming off for hours. And with brothers like his, to avoid all three of those things was a fucking miracle.

When he looks back, he tries to work out when it started. They were running back, mud-splattered and bloody; for once, they weren’t so late they couldn’t clean up before school.

It’s Edward first - just ahead of him to the left. Eddie leaps over a fallen tree and he … stumbles, only just keeping his balance.

“Jasper!”

He’s laughing at Edward’s stumble - perfect balance and all that - but Jasper isn’t. In fact, both Edward and Jasper have this look of increasing horror on their faces, and it’s only when Jasper grabs Edward  and Jasper’s hand goes through Edward’s shoulder because Edward is turning into dust and that is not fucking right.

“Emmett.”

He’s never heard Edward sound so much like the seventeen year old boy he was, and he reaches for his oldest - and his youngest - brother, but by the time his hands are grasping out for Edward’s, Edward is gone. There’s nothing left of him, no clothes or cellphone or bones or hair or anything. It’s not even proper ash, but dust that mingles with the dirt on the ground, and there’s nothing. Nothing. He might as well have never been there.

He’s not entirely sure if he’s feeling his own horror, his own terror, and grief, or if Jasper is projecting. Neither of them know what to do, to scoop what is left of Edward into their pockets, and flee home or to get help or to… what.

But then Jasper is running again, and he follows, desperation streaming off Jasper so strongly that Emmett can almost feel his own dead heart pounding.

Is it disease? Are there vampires diseases?

It can’t be age, Jasper and Carlisle are older, the Denali girls older still…

His phone trills in his pocket but he keeps running and Jasper keeps running, and they aren’t getting there fast enough.

Jasper keeps running until he crumples into dust, his golden eyes wide, and the one word on his lips lost as he disintegrates.

Alice.

He backs away from Jasper’s resting place, like the dust is contagious - and maybe it is - maybe whatever happened to Edward spread to Jasper when he touched him.

Instead, he runs. He tears through the forest, a soundless rhythm in his head Rosie-Rosie-Rosie-Rosie and the kind of swirling, twisting worry like human nausea in his stomach as he bursts through trees and underbrush.

He’s ten miles out when he hears the screaming.

It doesn’t stop as he somehow moves faster, and bursts through the property line, to the backdoor of the house, which he half rips off the frame as he charges into the house.

The screaming - the wailing - is Alice, on her hands and knees in the sitting room. There’s dust on her face and hands, and she’s not all there, her eyes wide and glassy, as she rocks back and forth.

There’s a weight in his stomach, one that gets heavier every second Rosalie doesn’t appear, that Esme isn’t trying to calm Alice. Instead, he skids to a stop and drops to his knees in front of her, tugging her into his arms, pointedly ignoring the dust that sticks to his jeans, that he sends floating up into the air.

This is an Alice he doesn’t know, just like he knows a Rose that no one else does. The one that Jasper has alluded to, once or twice, in confidence. That it might have always looked like Alice was the one piecing Jasper back together, pulling him along in her grand plans, but it was never as simple or easy as that. Jasper held her together, she put him together. A balancing act.

Just the way that people assumed that he was the one that healed Rosalie of all her demons, when in truth he was just there, letting her know that whatever ‘okay’ looked like for Rosalie was for her - and only her - to decide. And that he’s always been the luckiest son of a bitch in existence to be apart of her version of ‘okay’.

Rose would have lost it with Alice by now. There’s no way Rosalie would have tolerated this level of noise.

Rose isn’t coming.

He holds his sister tight, and mutters reassurances in her hair. They stay like that for awhile until Alice just lets out a sob, and looks up at him, blinking slowly.

“He said he’d never leave me,” she says in a wobbly voice. “He promised me.”

“It wasn’t by choice,” Emmett rushes to tell her. “You were his last thought; he tried so hard to get home before he…”

Alice wipes her eyes, but she still doesn’t look like Alice. She looks lost and breakable, and she sits back, noticing the pile of dust they’re both sitting amongst.

“She… she was so mad,” Alice babbles suddenly, grabbing his hand. “If anyone could have stopped it, could have reversed it by… by sheer will, it was Rosalie, Em. She didn’t go alone, I had her.”

He’s sitting amongst his wife’s… ashes-dust-remains. It’s on his hands and legs and face, and he can see it clinging to Alice’s hair, and he kind of wants to match her wailing because there has never been an Emmett without a Rosalie, not in any history that counts, and without Rose, he has no plan, no direction, no purpose. The world has tilted off its axis, and he wants to go and bury his face in her clothes upstairs, clothes that smell like roses-lemons-cars until the tearing feeling in his chest just stops.

“Esme came running,” Alice continued, staring off into space. “She didn’t make it down the stairs. She didn’t even notice until she was practically gone.”

They sit in silence for a moment, or maybe longer, until the day has begun. The sky has lightened, and they are still alone in a quiet house. No radio, no conversation, no bickering, nothing.

“Did you see this?” he asks finally, and feels cruel asking.

“No.” She sniffles, and he thinks how cruel it was to take Jasper and leave Alice. “It happened so fast; I saw Edward when Rose started to…” She took a deep breath. “I felt Jasper go.” She shudders and there’s a hitch in her breath, and he really doesn’t want her to start crying again.

“We should call Carlisle,” he says, and she nods but pauses.

“Call his phone, not the hospital. No one will answer,” she whispers, but there’s a look in her eyes he doesn’t like and he doesn’t want to ask, either…

“I can’t see him answering, Em,” she whispers.

He takes a deep breath and dials the number.

It rings.

It keeps ringing.

“Hello?”

It’s a nervous sounding woman’s voice, and for a moment, he can’t find the words.

“I don’t know whose phone this is,” the woman continues, her voice shaking.

“It’s Emmett Cullen. I need to speak to my father - Dr Carlisle Cullen,” he manages, but Alice is already shaking her head.

“Emmett, it’s Nurse Fletcher,” and he has no idea who that is, truly. “Your father… he’s gone, Emmett.” The woman sounds traumatised, and he understands. “Half the hospital just… disappeared, there was nothing anyone could have done…”

He throws his phone against the wall, and it smashes through the drywall as it shatters, and Esme’s not even here to yell at him.

—

Somehow, Alice gets him to his feet, and drags him into Forks. Something about people coming looking for them and they need to go to the school, where everyone who is still here is gathering. They’re both covered in the dust of their family (Edward and Rose, mostly, and he wonders if bringing Alice a handful of her husband’s remains would have been the right thing to do. They’d left Esme where she fell, a waterfall of dirt on the stairs.)

There aren’t many people at the school when they arrive, and people are staring. He gets it; Alice looks like she just crawled out of an empty grave (Rose’s; Rose sticking to her face and hair and hands and knees…) and he’s splattered with mud and probably blood that he didn’t think to clean up before they left but together they are a suitably haunted, stricken pair of siblings.

A couple of Bella’s friends are at the impromptu gathering; the Hispanic girl is clinging to a man who has to be her father, fresh tear tracks on her face. A blonde girl is sitting with a blanket around her, almost bisected perfectly down her body with the dust of someone - a classmate, a family member, a passerby. Just dozens of people standing around, confused and grieving.

But Alice stops when she sees one figure, stooped and already exhausted.

Charlie Swan catches her in a hug as she approaches him a little faster than she should, and he wants to pull her back because now parts of Rosalie are sticking to Charlie’s clothes and from the look on Charlie’s face and on Alice’s, the dust on Charlie belonged to Bella.

He wants to chuckle, at the picture of Rose’s face if she was told her ashes would be mixed up with Bella’s forever now, or at least until Charlie does some laundry.

“She was in bed, sleeping,” Charlie says. “I thought it was a prank, at first.” His eyes are shiny and he takes a shuddering breath and looks closer at the pair of them. “Who…”

Alice seems to shrink into herself, and just shakes her head. “It’s just me and Emmett now,” she mutters. “Jasper’s gone and Rosalie’s gone, and Esme and Carlisle and Edward and now Bella.” There’s a tinge of hysteria to her words, and Emmett pulls his sister closer because he doesn’t want what’s left of Forks to watch if he has to try and calm her down from another round of hysteria.

“It’ll be okay,” he manages. “We’ll call Denali and see how Tanya’s doing. Cousins,” he offers to Charlie, who looks relieved. “We’ll check in on a few people,” he continues, hoping to distract Alice, who keeps repeating their names under her breath. “Peter and Charlotte, Maria, Garrett, Randall…”

“Good. You kids can stay with me while you track down some family if you need to,” Charlie offers but Alice manages to pull herself together.

“No, we’ll be fine,” she assures him. “Emmett’s old enough and … we’ll be fine. We just need to know what happened.”

“We don’t know much yet, but as soon as I do, I’ll call,” Charlie promises. “I’ll put your names on the … Survivors list, you two go on home and take a shower, make sure you’ve got enough food and gas in the car. And you call if you need anything.”

“Carlisle’s phone,” he says immediately. “Nurse Fletcher at the hospital has it, but we … can’t go there.”

Charlie seems to understand by totally misunderstanding why they can’t go to the hospital and promises to see what he can do.

And then there’s nothing else for them to do but go home. Go home and wash off the dust, and scoop what’s left into Esme’s vases (urns, now). Alice folds their dirty clothes and puts them in a box without a word, and he watches her collect dust from the trim on the coffee table, from the gaps between the floorboards, with a tiny paintbrush so that every grain of his beautiful wife is collected.

Then he takes her to where Jasper fell and she doesn’t say anything. There’s no way to tell what dust and dirt is Jasper and what is the forest, and there’s nothing here for her to gather in her hands and hold tight. They sit for awhile, just staring at the spot.

“If Maria survived, it’s going to be bad,” she manages as the light begins to fade. “And if the Volturi…”

They walk home at a human pace, and they both start to notice things that they missed before; the stillness of the forest, suddenly amiss half its animals. The sparseness of the trees, of the ground. As they make it home, the day sinking into night, he notices half of Esme’s gardens just gone, as if waiting for someone to plant them fresh, when they were in full bloom less than a day ago.

There’s a small figure waiting on the back porch, in dirty denim cut-offs. He looks smaller than last time they saw him, only weeks ago.

Seth Clearwater swallows hard when he sees them, and they can tell by the look on his face that whatever, whoever is left on the Res, it certainly isn’t his family and friends, and Emmett is overwhelmingly sad for the kid that had to come to his natural enemies for safe haven.

“The pack,” Seth begins. “It’s only me, and Colin, and Brady left. And at home, it’s only me.”

Alice moves too fast, and pulls him into a tight hug, and Seth hugs her back, despite the stench.

“I figured you might know something about what’s happened,” Seth continues, and he’s trying so hard not to cry, he’s giving Emmett a headache. “I left Colin and Brady back to protect the Res, and came to find help.”

He wants so badly to promise this kid it’s going to fine, that they’ll find a Tardis, a time-turner, a fucking goddess of time and rewind everything to stop this from happening but his wife is nothing but dirt, and his sister looks like a broken marionette, and there’s a wolf pup looking so desperate and hopeful that the words die on his tongue.

Alice smiles at him, kindly, for for a second she looks like herself. That lost, glassy look she’s worn all day has faded back inside her, and he hopes it stays there.

“Come in, Seth,” she says, and motions that they both follow her in through the door he broke that morning. “I think we’ve got food.”

Emmett takes off his boots before he goes inside (just like Esme always nagged for him to and he never remembered), and he wonders if the others are up there, laughing their asses off that the House of Cullen has crumbled and all that’s left is a broken psychic, an underage shapeshifter, and the guy with his wife in a jar.

He thinks it might even be funny to someone.