i genuinely think the people who insist the life series is scripted just don’t understand the difference between something scripted and something that’s been given a basic premise and directives that everyone involved in agrees to play along with for the bit. like, no, specific moments aren’t scripted, but there’s a reason the series isn’t just “best pvper wins” and it’s because they deliberately prioritise entertainment over pure skill because the same person winning every time just wouldn’t be fun.
like, for the most part they’re a bunch of drama kids who have been given the perfect playground to act out the shakespearian tragedy of their dreams (some more so than others) (hello rendog) and they’re given the tools and situation to do so but everything else is just improv. and they’re also just having fun like i think we should all remember they’re doing this to have fun with their friends and play on a server where anything goes and they can grief all they want and sometimes they’ll just make stupid mistakes like walking off the side of a diving board and dying because they were so miffed about losing to a best tower competition they forgot where the stairs were, or blowing themselves up with their own tnt trap because they placed one block in the wrong place.
also i think people forget just how generally predictable people are in general, like after five seasons you can definitely start to guess how people will behave because they’re just like that. joel is reckless and he likes to poke the bear, martyn is good at staying alive but not good at keeping hearts (the difference between winning limlife and going out early in secret life), scott is good at the social game and a formidable opponent but also terribly self sacrificial, bdubs will betray anyone he’s allied with if offered something good, etc etc etc
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Ok well i had the brief thought “what about an ER nurse Eddie au?” and then this popped fully formed into existence so fuck it Friday pt 2.. warnings for smoking and vague references to critically injured kids
“That doesn’t seem very healthy.”
Smoke curls up from the cigarette held loosely in Eddie’s hand. “It’s not, particularly.”
Buck’s hands are in his pockets as he strolls away from the glass doors out into the ambulance bay where Eddie is doing the mature, professional equivalent of playing hide and seek. He comes to a stop barely a foot or two away from where Eddie leans against grimy concrete. “Didn’t know you were a smoker.”
“I’m not,” Eddie sighs, “Particularly.” He looks over Buck’s face as he takes a drag, cataloging bruises and cuts. He hadn’t been the one to look him over before he was discharged, probably because he was out here avoiding having to do so. “Only when it’s- only after the bad shifts.” And only once a month, even if the bad shifts come again and again. He bought this pack in January, it’s stale as shit.
Buck’s eyes follow the smoke as it drifts skyward. “Rough one today?”
Eddie thinks he probably doesn’t have to explain to Buck that it’s sometimes better when a kid is dead on arrival so he doesn’t have to try his best to administer care he knows will be useless. He doesn’t have to explain a day where nothing goes right and he loses more people than he can save and he still has to walk away from someone’s parent or wife or sister, left behind forever in a waiting room on the worst day of their life, and go on to lose the next person too. Doesn’t have to explain why he’s out here, and not in there. “Mm. We’ve got this repeat customer, always hate to have him back.”
Buck’s eyes flick to his face before they settle somewhere around his elbow. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. He seems like a nice guy. I worry about him. He’s here too often.”
Buck doesn’t look up. “What was he in for this time?”
“Minor concussion. Bruising. Lacerations.” Eddie sucks cancer into his lungs. “Heard a house fell on him.” Exhales it into the night.
Buck does look up this time, eyes a darker blue out here in the shadows. “Part of a house. Just a staircase and the- like, the balcony, really.”
“Maybe he should stay away from those.”
“From houses?” Buck asks, half his mouth twitching into a smile.
Eddie rests his head on the wall behind him. “Guess that’s not really practical.”
“No.” Buck is quiet for a moment, one hand slipping out of his pocket and running through his hair. Eddie wonders what he looks like, when he’s not here. He��s more styled, sometimes, when things aren’t very bad. He wonders if he’s usually all gelled up and neat. Eddie kind of likes the loose curls. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“Making your day worse.” Buck looks genuinely apologetic, and Eddie shakes his head.
“The guy made it out okay this time.” Buck is just close enough that Eddie can kick at his boot with his sensible orthopedic sneaker. “You didn’t even need stitches.”
“That’s good.” Eddie’s left foot is pressed along the inside of Buck’s right, and Buck is staring down at them. “His favorite nurse was on break. I would have missed you if someone else had to do them.”
Eddie laughs, just a few bursts of soundless oxygen. “You gotta find new ways to see me before something happens that I can’t fix.”
Buck moves, taking the few steps necessary to lean against the wall beside him. Carefully, he takes the cigarette from Eddie’s hand, holds it between two of his own fingers, and takes a drag. Eddie watches it happen like he’s monitoring somebody’s pulse ox, and when Buck coughs he laughs again, louder this time. “Fuck,” Buck says, laughing too. “Thought that would be cooler than it was.”
“Smoking isn’t cool, firefighter Buckley,” Eddie says, taking the cigarette back and pulling from it again between smiling lips.
“Hm,” Buck says, grinning out into the night. Then he sighs, and rolls his head along the concrete to look at Eddie. “I think there’s nothing you can’t fix.”
They’re very close. “There’s lots I can’t fix.”
Buck shrugs like he disagrees. “I also think I’d like to find other ways to see you.”
Buck’s eyes are even more in shadow at this angle, and they’re the color of the lake back in El Paso that he and a bunch of kids went to after graduation, drunk off beer somebody’s cousin got for them, skinny dipping with breathless terrified delight under bright constellations. “Then ask me.”
Buck inhales as Eddie exhales. “What time’s your shift end?”
“5:30 AM. So, probably 6:15.”
Buck traces the two fingers he’d used to hold the cigarette down Eddie’s arm. “You wanna get breakfast with me?”
“Yes. I would.”
Buck smiles, and Eddie snubs out the cigarette on the wall between them. “I’ll meet you here?”
“Alright.” He takes a step forward, then a step to the right so he’s standing in front of Buck. “Two hours.”
“Uh huh.”
He should really get back inside. They’re understaffed, as always, and there are too many patients, as always, and not enough beds, as always. “See you then.” He doesn’t make any move to leave.
“See you then,” Buck almost whispers. He leans forward, and Eddie still doesn’t move, so he presses a tiny kiss to the corner of his mouth for just a moment. His lips are warm. Eddie hadn’t noticed it was cold outside.
Buck pulls back and leans against the wall again. Eddie smiles, puts a hand in his pocket, and walks back toward the doors.
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Hey OUAT writers remember when you killed a beloved member of Storybrooke’s community and it had emotional consequences for our protagonists and made Henry believe good can’t win against evil and he needed to be “good” for Regina in order to “not upset [Regina] anymore” so people wouldn’t die??? So she wouldn’t kill more people? And how this death traumatized Emma and made her romantic issues/relationship fear even worse to the point where years later she’s afraid to completely enter into a new relationship with a man who loves and respects her? (And this is after the revelation that he gave up his literal home for her) And that his true cause of death was never discovered nor given retribution for? His last day he finally got his control back, to be his actual self, to make his own choice and be free from his abuser, and he dies because his abuser can’t stand not having power over him, and she dares to call her control “love.”
For one moment, one beautiful moment, he was free, but no one saw it. And then the next moment he was murdered, and he never got Justice. And now he’s buried and forgotten while the people who respected him, the same people who feared his abuser, call her “Good.”
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