#elle writes a few deadbeat lines

[some-little-infamy]

(Read on AO3)

“How would you feel about getting married?”

Eddie doesn’t mean to ask the question, or at least not so bluntly, but the words tumble out of his mouth after spiraling around his head relentlessly for the last hour of his date night with Marisol. They’re cleaning up after dinner, Marisol beside him at the counter drying off the dishes he washed and put on the rack.

“Like, as a concept? Or…” Marisol questions, carefully placing the glass she was holding down on the counter before turning fully to face him.

“To me,” Eddie clarifies, choosing to double-down instead of backtrack.

“I mean… if I’m being honest, I hadn’t thought about it a whole lot. Yeah, it’s crossed my mind in a hypothetical future scenario sort of way, but… you’re not talking about that, are you?” Her eyes narrow as they watch the emotions cross his face. “You’re talking about right now.”

“Not right now,” he says. “But soon.” “Where is this coming from?” Marisol asks. It isn’t a no, but it also isn’t a yes.

“Christopher,” Eddit admits.

“Christopher wants us to get married?” Marisol asks.

“Christopher needs something constant. He needs something long-term. He can’t keep losing people… I can’t keep bringing people into his life who leave.” If he’s going to spring something like this on her then the least he can do is be honest about it. He knows how this must sound otherwise, bringing up marriage out of nowhere. They never spoke of it before, they barely planned for the next week or two, let alone months or years from now.

“Eddie…” Marisol starts slowly, and it’s the tone of a gentle let-down that leaves an immediate pit in his stomach.

“Don’t say no, just-” “I can’t say yes, though. And that’s the problem. I can’t promise to never leave, Eddie. We’re not there. Or I’m not there, at least. And if that’s something you’re looking for… maybe it isn’t fair for us to keep doing this.”

A silence falls between them.

“There’s no chance you’ll be willing to pretend this conversation never happened, is there?” Eddie tries, sensing the line they just crossed and already knowing what it means for them. It means the very thing he was hoping to avoid.

“I don’t think that’d do either of us any good, do you, Eddie?”

Eddie doesn’t know what to think any more. Every move he makes seems to backfire, no matter how good his intentions are, and he’s starting to think that maybe it’s just him.

“I’m sorry,” he says finally.

“Me too,” Marisol agrees. “I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

“Me too,” Eddie echoes. If Marisol hears him she doesn’t give any indication, making her way to the door without turning back.

  “There are only two plates,” Christopher says as he takes his seat at the table. “Isn’t Marisol going to come over tonight?”

Eddie’s thankful that he has his back turned, scooping the potpie onto two plates at the counter. His face immediately pulls into a deep frown and he takes a deep breath for a second to steady his mind and his heart before turning to face Christopher with a small smile.

“Not tonight,” he says. “Actually… Marisol isn’t going to be coming around here any more.”

“But I liked her,” Christopher sighs.

“Me too, buddy. Me too.” Eddie forces the rueful smile to remain on his face despite every single instinct wanting to sigh right back.

“Then why did she break up with you?” Christopher asks.

“Hey,” Eddie says, feigning indignance. “What makes you think she broke up with me?”

“Because I heard you talking to Abuela when you dropped me off last night.”

Eddie winces. He remembers bits of the conversation he had with her - how he might ask Marisol to move in with him, or how he wondered if she might be ‘the one’. How much had Christopher overheard? How high did Eddie get his hopes up only to crush them the same way his own were the night before?

“I’m sorry, Chris,” Eddie says.

“It’s okay,” Christopher says.

“I know you liked having someone else around the apartment-”

“Now Buck can come over more often!” Christopher points out.

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees with a laugh. “But it isn’t the same.”

“Why not?” Christopher asks. “Buck plays games with me, and eats dinner with us, and helps me with my homework, and watches me when you and Abuela can’t. He even gave me advice about girls,” Christopher adds. “Much better advice than you or Marisol.”

Dinner is growing colder by the second, but Eddie doesn't seem to notice as the seconds of silence following Christopher's statement stretch to a minute, and then two, as his son's words settle over him.

“It isn't the same when Buck is around,” Eddie tries to explain, his words coming slow and carefully chosen. “As it is when I bring a date over.”

“You're right - Buck always leaves at night. But I wish he wouldn't. I like it better when Buck's around. You do, too. Right?”

The question is so casual, so innocent. Christopher talks between bites of dinner while Eddie’s own food continues to cool, untouched in front of him.

If he's being honest with himself, he has missed having Buck around as much as he used to. If he's being really honest, maybe he's been pushing himself to date to try and not think about just how much he likes it.

Likes Buck.

So when Christopher so easily points out that Buck is the most constant part of his life - of both their lives - Eddie wonders why he didn't realize the true weight of that sooner.

As if reading his mind, Christopher fills the silence.

“You should just date Buck. Then he'll never have to leave.”

Eddie's breath catches in his chest.

“It isn't that simple, buddy,” Eddie says.

“Why not?”

Why not, indeed. Because what if Buck doesn't feel the same? Because what if Eddie doesn't just ruin his relationship with Buck, but Christopher's, too? What if he runs the entire dynamic at work, and their friends have to pick sides or avoid him or-

“Areeee you okay, dad?” Christopher drags out the first word, waving his hand - fork and all - in front of him in Eddie’s direction.

Eddie is most certainly not okay, but he isn’t about to explain to his son that he’s having an existential crisis over the affections of a man Christopher is so certain of.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay,” Eddie says, picking up his own fork and taking the first bite of a dinner he’s no longer hungry for. It wouldn’t do to leave the table without eating at least a little, though, or else he’ll never hear the end of it the next time Christopher tries to boycott eating his own food.

“You’d really be okay if Buck and I… dated?” Eddie asks, tentatively easing into the conversation Christopher is already fully having whether Eddie wants to or not.

“Of course,” Chris says.

“And that wouldn’t be… weird for you?” Eddie continues.

“Nope,” Christopher answers, dropping another bite of food into his mouth. “Did I eat enough to go play video games now?”

Christopher eyes Eddie’s barely-touched plate as if daring him to say no.

“Yeah, go ahead.”

“Thanks!” Chris pushes back his chair and moves as fast as he can before Eddie can change his mind.

Eddie sits there another minute or two, head racing with everything that just happened. Every point Christopher made was not only valid, but also so painfully obvious looking back on everything. All of the nights they spent together, or days helping Chris with projects or sports over the weekends… hell, Eddie made Buck Chris’s guardian if anything ever happened to him, for fuck’s sake.

Eddie has no trouble admitting that Buck is the best thing to happen to the two of them in a long while, so why is he so hung up on taking that one step further?

His cell phone rings, jolting him from his thoughts for just a moment, but of course the name that lights up on his screen shouldn’t be a surprise.

Evan.

Eddie considers not answering it, but changes his mind at the last second, answering it just before it would’ve gone to voicemail. Thankfully, Buck can’t hear the way Eddie’s pulse picks up at the sound of his voice in the context of all the other thoughts running through Eddie’s head just then. “Hey, Buck,” Eddie says by way of a greeting. Now or never. The thought is in his head, the possibility of more, and he needs to know if it’s just him (okay, just him and Christopher) who’ve seen it and thought about it. “Just the guy I was looking for. What are you doing tonight?”

#9 1 1 #911 abc #911 fox #911 fanfic #buddie #buck x eddie #eddie diaz #christopher diaz #elle writes a few deadbeat lines #AO3 is down right now so I'll put the link in later #but read in here in the meantime! :)

[bytheangell]

I’m begging for number 33 with kierarktina please literally anything

(Read on AO3)

Cristina knows the rules of the Unseelie Court are different than the ones she's used to living and abiding by. They're harsher and more unforgiving - for beings so reliant on tricks and subtle wordings, they lack the good-natured trait of sympathy when wronged.

She spends more and more time in the Unseelie realm, despite not truly belonging there, because she does belong with Mark and Kieran. It's a delicate line to walk for a Nephilim. Often times she will come and go from the cabin they share without any interaction with the other fey. Everyone knows who she is and that she isn't to be touched.

Other Nephilim aren't so lucky, especially when they trespass into the Unseelie realm uninvited.

When there's a knock on the door it's Kieran who goes to answer. There's a hushed conversation, the sound of a scuffle, and then the door closes again. When Kieran returns to her he's no longer wearing the soft, relaxed smile he had minutes before when they lay side by side in bed. Cristina knows this look, and she despises it.

The expression on Kieran's face now is one of reassigned regret, of a duty he carries out in part obligation, part genuine attempt to do good. Cristina isn't naive enough to think that means he won't have to make difficult decisions, ones she doesn't understand or agree with.

“Keep your hands over your ears, do you hear me? Even when the noises stop. Don’t listen.”

Kieran's instructions bring a chill through Cristina. She's about to question why when Mark enters the room with a quick, silent nod to Kieran before taking his place in the bed beside Cristina.

She feels his arms wrap around her, pulling her head down into his chest. "I'm so sorry you have to be here for this," he says.

"For what?" Cristina asks, but the anguished scream that reaches her from outside is all the answer she needs. She brings her hands up to her ears, pressing down into the pillow to help muffle the cries for mercy.

They must deserve this, whoever they are, whatever they've done. They must, because it takes a lot for Kieran to cave to the pressure of committing such acts of punishment.

Of torture.

Mark holds her tighter, one hand combing through her hair with his fingers. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he repeats.

She's a Nephilim. She's no stranger to pain or the danger of being caught on a mission. She understands, as much as she wishes she didn't. Maybe that's just another thing Mark's sorry about - the fact that she does understand. That she isn't innocent enough for this to be enough to send her fleeing the other direction.

Love is strange that way. You rationalize away now than you normally would. You accept things you wouldn't from any other person. It's enough to know that they have no real choice.

It's enough to know that they could never do it to you.

Every so often Cristina thinks the screaming is over, only to be proven wrong the moment she moves her hands away from her ears.

Eventually, the screams stop. The front door opens and closes, and then the quiet sobs begin. Cristina wonders if these are the sounds Kieran doesn't want her to hear the most.

When he finally comes back to bed she can feel the weight of the night on him. Turning, she wraps her arms around him, giving a tight squeeze filled with as much comfort and reassurance she can manage. She feels his muscles relax under her touch, his breathing slow and stabilize.

"I'm sorry," she whispers, echoing Mark's words from earlier. "I'm so sorry."

It isn't enough, but for now, it's all they have.

#tsc #tda #kierarktina #kieran kingson #cristina rosales #mark blackthorn #elle writes a few deadbeat lines #ask rune #lavender-scented-rat #it's been way to long since i read these books #i hope this isn't wildly out of character #long post

[some-little-infamy]

Tommy, Bothered and Bewildered

(Read on AO3)

Tommy isn’t sure what to expect when he knocks on Evan’s door and asks if they can talk, he just knows that he has to say something, because things can’t keep going on the way that they currently are.

He’s seen the friendship that Evan and Eddie have, and he has his suspicions that it might run deeper than anyone else knows about, at least on an open level. That isn’t something he’s willing to get in the middle of.

But he doesn’t want to stop spending time with them, either. He wants to teach Evan how to fly, and grab that beer with him sometime. He wants to keep going to fights with Eddie and spend some more time around that great kid of his.

None of that is going to happen if he doesn’t clear the air about the building tension they’re all feeling. In a way, he’s glad it all came to a head at the basketball game. That gave him an excuse to bring it up without feeling weird about it, like he was assuming anyone cared about him any more than they did.

“Can I get you something? I still owe you a beer, right?” Evan offers.

“No, I’m good. I won’t stay long. I just wanted to clear the air and I didn’t want to do it over the phone or in a text or something,” Tommy waves the offer off. He has a shift after this, anyway. But the truth is that he wanted to see Evan. He wanted to be here, to look him in the eyes, and swear that he knows what Eddie means to him. Promise that he never meant to get in the middle of that.

Of course, there’s more to it than that. Tommy would be lying if he didn’t admit to himself that he hated having to turn down that first offer to go out for drinks, even if his plans for the fight in Vegas were huge, because honestly? If he knew the offer would be on the table he would’ve given up the tickets in a heartbeat. There’s just something about Evan that draws him in, that makes him want to know more.

But that isn’t why he’s here, not really.

They have the talk, awkward at moments but a relief in the end. Tommy apologizes, and surprisingly, Evan takes full ownership of the way he reacted as bad behavior on his part. Tommy doesn’t know much about Evan, but he feels like he knows enough to know that that’s a pretty big deal for him to admit.

  “I mean it’s not like I could ever replace you. Christopher would absolutely have something to say about that. That kid cannot shut up about you,” Tommy tells Evan. What he doesn’t tell him is that Christopher didn’t shut up about him because Tommy practically barraged the poor kid with questions, trying to get anything he could about what Evan likes to eat, or what he does on his days off, or what music he listens to. Fortunately and unfortunately, the answer to all of that is usually whatever Christopher asks for, which unfortunately left Tommy with little useful information, and fortunately left him even more endeared with Evan.

Then everything happens so quickly. Evan moves closer to him. He jokes about fake mouth static. They’re laughing, and sharing looks, and… Jesus, did Evan’s eyelashes just bat at him?

“I just wanted to get to know you,” Evan says finally, and Tommy’s breath stops entirely.

“Yeah?” Tommy tries, and fails, not to sound surprised. He thinks he made it pretty clear he wants to get to know Evan - the hangar tour, the raincheck on drinks, the fact that he drove all the way here today for a conversation that absolutely could’ve been a text - he isn’t hiding anything. He just hadn’t been so sure about Evan’s side of it until now.

And then the talk circles back around to Eddie. Eddie’s great. He’s a good guy, they have a lot in common, and yeah, they’re pretty good friends… but that’s it. Eddie’s in a relationship, and as far as Tommy is aware, straight. Tommy wouldn’t even think about seriously flirting with him, would never dare to cross that line. But with Evan…

There’s no doubt in Tommy’s mind now that Evan was flirting with him back at the hangar. He asked for a tour when he wasn’t seriously planning on learning, the hopeful look in his eyes when he asked Tommy out for drinks… there was something there and it killed Tommy to not be able to explore right away. He’d hoped…

…and there it is again. That damned hope.

“Just… trying to get your attention has been kind of exhausting.”

“My attention?” He thought… well, he suspected, wondered really… but maybe he was just reading too much into Evan and Eddie’s friendship.

Buck is rambling now, mentions of maiming his best friend and talks with his sister, but Tommy barely processes any of it before making up his mind on what he wants to do next. He drove here, across town before a shift, through Los Angeles traffic, not just to see Evan, but to see what potential relationship - friendship or otherwise - Tommy could salvage after everything that went down.

Tommy closes the small space between them, giving Evan just enough time to back away. He brings two fingers under Evan’s chin to lift it, and when there’s no resistance Tommy leans in and kisses him. He waits, reading every push and pull of the muscles under his touch, but Evan only leans into the kiss, bringing his own hand up to Tommy’s arm.

When Tommy pulls away and takes in the look of astonishment on Evan’s face, he knows he made the right decision.

So when Tommy has to leave - and he has to leave, because if he goes in for a second kiss he isn’t sure there’s any force in the universe that would be able to pull him away with enough time to get to his shift - he makes sure Evan knows that he wants to see him again. And again. And again.

Starting with Saturday.

#911 abc #911 spoilers #tommy kinard #evan buckley #kinley #kinkley #bucktommy #i just love them a lot your honor #and we desperately need more tommy pov content #elle writes a few deadbeat lines

[some-little-infamy]

Buck, Realized

(Read on AO3)

Buck’s body registers the knock at the door before his brain does, heartbeat quickening in his chest at the sound and the mixture of hope and trepidation that floods through him. Eddie. He’s been avoiding Eddie, but of course Eddie isn’t the sort to suffer avoidance in silence - for better or worse, he’s going to make Buck talk to him and deal with this head-on. And, for better or worse, Buck deserves to be confronted with the aftermath of his action. Buck doesn’t even bother checking the peephole before pulling the door wide open.

When he sees not Eddie, but Tommy, standing in the doorway, everything seems to pause. This… isn’t right. This isn’t what he’s expecting, the routine of them, of Buck and Eddie, that Buck’s grown so used to since Eddie entered his life. Then again, since Tommy entered Eddie’s life, things haven’t been what Buck’s used to, have they?

It takes a moment for the idea that it’s Tommy at his door to register, and when it does Buck doesn’t feel disappointed that it isn’t Eddie. In fact, his heart only races faster, nearly visible where it pulses in his neck. Weird. He writes it off as fear, fear over how badly he fucked up that Eddie can’t even face him.

“Uh, hey. Hey, Tommy.”

“Can we talk?” No greetings. Not a great start.

“Uh, yeah, yeah. Come… on in.” Buck invites him in, fully functioning on autopilot at this point, his words repeating and stuttering in an effort for his mind to catch up with his actions.

“Wow, maybe I’m working at the wrong station,” Tommy comments, looking around Buck’s place with obvious awe.

Buck grins despite the situation, because it feels good to be on the receiving end of a compliment from Tommy, to be in the place that he imagines Eddie’s been in a million times based on how close they’ve grown. Not that it matters - having a nice apartment isn’t going to win him any friends here, no matter how deep his need to impress runs.

“Can I get you something? I still owe you a beer, right?” Buck doesn’t know why he’s trying so hard, why he’s smiling so wide, as if this could still be a simple social call. He wants to salvage what he can with Tommy, if he can. Tommy’s reply isn’t promising.

“No, I’m good. I won’t stay long. I just wanted to clear the air and I didn’t want to do it over the phone or in a text or something.”

Jesus, why does this sound like Tommy’s breaking up with him? Buck grabs a beer for himself, anticipating the need for it - and probably a few others - by the end of this conversation.

“Clear the air about what?” Buck asks, needing to know for certain.

Tommy keeps his distance, standing in the open space beyond the kitchen Buck’s in as he replies.

“Obviously I’ve been the cause of some bad blood between you and Eddie and I just want you to know that was never my intention.”

Fuck. Buck knows he hasn’t been anything short of obvious lately, with Maddie and Chimney picking up on it before Buck even fully realized what he was doing. So of course Tommy picked up on it, too. And if Tommy had… “There’s no bad blood,” Buck promises. “Evan-” Tommy starts, but Buck continues talking before Tommy can say anything else. He ignores the strange weight he feels in his stomach hearing Tommy say his name like that… there was emotion behind that name, something Buck doesn’t have time to think on just then. “Really,” Buck continues. “No bad blood, just… bad behavior, and, and it’s all on my part. You guys didn’t do anything wrong. You and Eddie as buddies makes perfect sense.”

“Yeah, we do,” Tommy agrees so immediately he nearly cuts Buck off to say it. “And you know he can have more than one friend, right?”

Buck looks down as he smiles at that, doing his best to cover the embarrassment that flushes his cheeks. Of course Eddie can have other friends. Eddie has other friends. He has girlfriends. But other friends aren’t Tommy, and Buck isn’t sure how to explain why that’s different without sounding crazy. He certainly feels a little crazy just thinking it.

“Uh, yes. Yes, I do know that,” Buck manages to force out around his thoughts.

“I mean it’s not like I could ever replace you. Christopher would absolutely have something to say about that. That kid cannot shut up about you.”

Buck swallows hard, pushing back the lump of emotion that catches in his throat at that.

“Really?” Buck can’t help it - he smiles, practically beaming. Tommy was impressive, and cool, and smooth, and everything Buck isn’t. Buck wouldn’t have blamed him if Chris thought Tommy was better than him and wanted him around more instead. Hell, Buck gets the appeal. He wants to be around Tommy, too. It’s why he was trying so hard to keep his attention with the hangar tour, wasn’t it?

Wait… was it?

“Really,” Tommy swears, continuing the conversation and leaving no time for Buck’s wandering thoughts.

“I guess Eddie is, uh, pretty pissed, huh?” Buck forces himself to focus back on the conversation at hand. He walks over to the other side of the kitchen island, feeling a little more okay with the conversation now. Now that he knows this is a civil conversation and that Tommy isn’t out to get him, Buck doesn’t need the drink in his hand or the distance between them.

More than that, he doesn’t want there to be space between. He finally has the thing he wanted all those other times - Tommy’s undivided attention - even if it’s not the way he wanted to get it. He instinctively moves towards the comfort this kind of interaction brings him, a feeling he hadn’t realized he missed so much until this moment.

When Tommy crosses his arms Buck stops moving toward him and leans back against the island instead, reading Tommy’s body language and adjusting accordingly. Buck’s hands grip the counter ledge behind him, grounding him there for now. There’s something more to this conversation, something thrumming under Buck’s skin and flashing across Tommy’s eyes that Buck swears he isn’t imagining, but he can’t figure out what it is. All he knows is that this conversation feels… dangerous, somehow, and he isn’t eager to be the one to push the boundaries of it.

“No, he’s not. In fact, he feels bad. We both do. Nobody meant to exclude you, Evan. Eddie and I hanging out, it wasn’t about you.”

“That’s usually my problem. Uh, I can get pretty jealous.”

The words leave Buck’s mouth before he has the chance to overthink them. They’re true. They’re honest in a way he hasn’t allowed himself to be before the basketball game.

When Tommy looks away at those words Buck thinks he looks… upset? Buck swears there was a moment of disappointment, of something Tommy didn’t want Buck to see that the quick turn away covered up.

“Yeah, you’re not the only one. I was super jealous.” “You? Over what?” Buck leans forward as he asks but doesn’t move away from where he’s stationed himself against the island.

Tommy’s the one to move this time, taking a few steps forward, walking back and forth a bit as he rewards Buck’s honest admission with a confession of his own.

“All of you. The 118. How it’s become like a family over there. How you all were willing to put everything on the line for one another. I wanted to be part of that.”

They’re close now, mere feet apart, but it’s too much distance for the moment they’re having. Buck hadn’t realized how much the two of them had in common. Maybe not in things like hobbies, but something deeper. They both feel left out of something they want to be part of. They both feel like they’re looking in on something they can’t have, and maybe don’t deserve.

Buck takes a step away from the island, closing the distance between them even further. He wants to reach out, to put an arm on Tommy’s shoulder or pull him into a hug, but he doesn’t. That isn’t what this is and he’s too grateful for the moment they are sharing to risk ruining it by thinking he means more to Tommy in all of this than he does. “Hey, you were, and you did. You,” Buck laughs mid-sentence at the memory. “You even made fake mouth static at the fire chief.”

Honestly, it was the moment in the helicopter that Buck first realized that Tommy was the sort of person he could see himself getting along with. Reckless for all the right reasons. A bit of a smartass. Great personality and sense of humor, even in a situation like the one they were all in at the moment. How could anyone not be immediately won over?

“I’m renowned for my fake mouth static,” Tommy declares.

Buck finds himself mirroring the absolutely unserious expression on Tommy’s face with ease. Given the uncertainty he felt at the start of this encounter, Buck’s surprised that he can feel so comfortable, so quickly.

“It was not great,” Buck points out. “Come on, hey!” There’s no true hurt in Tommy’s indignation, no sign that he’s put off by Buck’s joking critique. The relief that Buck feels over the cheerfulness Tommy exudes now, over the smile that spreads wide across his face as he laughs with Buck… it’s like something begins to settle in Buck’s previously tumultuous mind.

“It was not convincing, but you did it anyway,” Buck points out, his tone growing serious again, shifting into something low and contemplative. “You threw in with us, no hesitation, and I, I thought wow, that guy is cool. I like that guy. That’s why I called and asked for the tour. It wasn’t about me maybe leaving the 118, Tommy, I…”

He what? Buck doesn’t know where any of this is coming from. Being here, alone and in private with Tommy, allows him a sense of freedom he didn’t have when they were back at the hangar doing the tour. Everything just feels so easy, so natural. Buck didn’t mean to say anything he just said, it all just sort of tumbled out. Talking with Tommy, being here with him… this is all he really wanted the chance to do before.

Before Eddie started spending all his free time with Tommy at fights and basketball games.

Before Buck ever had a chance to say it, or even realize he thought it.

“I just wanted to get to know you,” Buck finishes, softly.

“Yeah?” Tommy seems surprised, but in a good way, and Buck feels that strange flutter again, that tingling just underneath his skin that he doesn’t expect over something as simple as being the cause of that grin on Tommy’s face.

It makes more sense now than it did before. A lot of things do, the longer the two of them stand this close together, the more they share goofy grins back and forth that seem to feed off each other’s borderline flirtatious energy. That flush of heat begins to return, and Buck quashes it down.

Buck reminds himself that Tommy came here to talk about Eddie. He reminds himself that it’s Tommy and Eddie who are close, not him. This is all just to smooth things over. “Yeah,” he agrees.” And then you left with Eddie. Which, listen, you don’t have to tell me how great Eddie is, you know, I’ve known that from the first day I worked with him. Of course you want to hang out with Eddie. Plus, well, I, I don’t know Muay Thai,” Buck finishes lamely, well aware that he’s rambling now and not doing himself any favors.

What was all that? It’s like once he started speaking he couldn’t stop. And how many times had he said Eddie’s name? God, he’s a disaster.

“I can teach you,” Tommy offers.

So maybe all hope isn’t lost after all. “Okay,” Buck says, not taking the offer entirely seriously. “Is that going to be right after our flying lessons?”

“Probably not on the same day,” Tommy admits. There it is again, that natural way of playing off Buck’s tone and mannerisms, matching him tit for tat not just in emotional moments but in joking ones as well, never missing a beat.

Buck thinks that he wouldn’t mind spending an entire day with Tommy. Hell, he wouldn’t mind spending multiple days with Tommy. In fact… that’s all Buck’s wanted all along. Buck’s first offer to grab a drink was turned down because of Tommy’s plans with Eddie, and then all of his free time since then also being taken up by Eddie…

“Yeah,” Buck says slowly. He’s staring now, longer than he should, but he can’t help it. His mouth hangs open slightly while every disjointed thought seems to click together at once. “Just… trying to get your attention has been kind of exhausting.”

There it is.

“My attention?” Tommy seems as surprised by the revelation as Buck is, but it’s out there now and Buck doesn’t want to take it back. “Yeah, I guess so, uh…” What does he say now? What else can he say? “I mean I, I did maim my best friend.” That sure isn’t it, but it’s what comes out. Now that the moment of clarity has passed he’s filled with panic, and with panic comes rambling. What he can’t do is let an uncomfortable silence ruin everything because he had to go and have a revelation out loud in front of the guy it was about. “My sister says there are better ways to get someone’s attentio-”

The word is muffled by Tommy’s lips on his. First there’s a gentle touch of Tommy’s fingers lifting Buck’s chin up to just the right angle, and then they’re kissing. It happens so fast, but once it’s happening Buck feels like he’s been waiting forever for it, somehow. Maybe not for Tommy specifically, but for this. An opportunity he didn’t know he wanted to seize until he was seizing it.

Buck kisses back without hesitation, leaning into the embrace, bringing his own hand up to the side of Tommy’s arm for a second before letting it fall back down to his side when Tommy steps away. It’s only a few seconds, but Buck finally gets what people say in movies and books about feeling like time stops. He’s never felt like this before, frozen in a moment where everything just feels… right.

“Like that?” Tommy asks. It isn’t flirty or challenging like Buck would expect, but a genuine question, to make sure they were both reading the same signs.

“Yeah, that works.” Buck feels… frozen? No. Rooted. Grounded, in a way he hasn’t in a very long time.

“So that was okay?” Tommy asks with a small smile, and fuck if that slight hesitation doesn’t pull at every single one of Buck’s heartstrings in the best possible way over the fact that Tommy’s checking in on him.

“That was better than fake mouth static,” Buck says. Okay, so maybe the word-vomiting isn’t entirely quelled, but at least it’s toned down in the aftermath of the kiss. Buck can barely think a single cohesive thought right now, let alone come up with enough to properly ramble about.

Buck’s lips curl up at the corners slightly as everything settles within him, like something shifting so slightly but in a way that allows everything around it to fall into perfect alignment. He likes Tommy. Every surge of jealousy, every stray thought he couldn’t figure out, every physical reaction he couldn’t explain away… it all makes sense. He likes Tommy. He’s probably liked other guys… he’s certainly flirted with other guys, though at the time he wrote it off as being his usual charismatic self. But now he has to wonder…

“I got a shift,” Tommy says, the words break through Buck’s quiet reflection. “Okay,” Buck says, already feeling the dread seep into the peace he felt moments before as he braces himself to be left alone again so soon. Maybe this was just an impulsive fluke for Tommy… maybe it didn’t mean anything for him, not the way it did for Buck. “Yeah, across-town traffic - came in a car this time. So what are you doing on Saturday?”

“Uh, S-Saturday?” The whiplash of going from the realization of his own feelings, to the kiss, to Tommy’s sudden need to leave, to asking Buck what he’s doing Saturday has Buck’s head spinning, barely able to keep up.

“You still owe me that beer. You free?” Buck notices the way Tommy tries, and mostly succeeds, to hold back a smile until Buck has the time to answer without feeling any sort of obligation.

Buck, in return, only smiles wider, eager and relieved and nervous, but the good kind of nervous. Like he knows he’s agreeing to something important - maybe not in the grand scheme of things, but certainly for the smaller scale of his immediate existence.

“Yes, I, I, I am free,” Buck confirms, cursing the way he can’t keep from tripping over his words, his mind racing faster than his mouth can keep up with.

“Great,” Tommy turns to leave, talking while he makes his way toward the door. Buck fights the urge to follow him over, to kiss him another time before he leaves just to make sure this is all real. “So let’s say I come by around, I dunno, eight?”

“Yeah, eight is great.” If the fact that Buck’s ability to form words is reduced to elementary rhyming words makes Tommy rethink his decision to ask Buck out, he doesn’t let it show. “Great,” Tommy grins at Buck like Buck is endearing, something fond and sincere in a way that surprises him. “See you Saturday.”

“Saturday.” Buck repeats. It’s all he can manage to show any sign that he’s listening, that he agrees with the plan, because if he opens his mouth any longer he isn’t sure what’s going to come spilling out of it next.

Come back. Stay. Are you sure you have to leave?

Tommy does turn back around, and this time it’s his words that catch Buck off-guard.

“And for God’s sake please call Eddie. Now would be a great time, he’s on pain pills.”

With a laugh that echoes through the apartment, Tommy closes the door behind him, leaving Buck alone in his apartment once more.

He kissed Tommy. Tommy kissed him, and he kissed Tommy back. He likes Tommy… and if Maddie and Chimney’s comments about his earlier outbursts and actions are any indication, he’s shown it at least a little prior to the past 5 minutes, even if his brain hadn’t quite caught up with his emotions.

He has a lot to process, but for now, he just wants to appreciate the fact that everything that just happened felt so… normal. He felt safe, and cared for, and totally at ease in Tommy’s presence. Not just during the kiss, but before and after it, too.

No matter how things play out, he’s become aware of something huge about himself today. Something that’s probably always been there, even if he’s only just acknowledged it. And while he’ll never claim to have it all figured out, he knows enough to appreciate that this is big.

A tear wells up in the lower lid of his eye, hovering there, not quite falling as he realizes he feels lighter than he has in days. Possibly weeks. Potentially ever.

There’s no big deal, no declarations needed, just… him. Just Buck, being who he is, living the truth of his life in that moment.

#evan buckley #tommy kinard #bucktommy #kinley #kinkley #911 on abc #911 spoilers #911 fic #my spouse requested introspection so they got introspection #elle writes a few deadbeat lines #long post

[some-little-infamy]

Too Important to Hide

(Read on AO3)

Despite Evan’s obvious hesitation, things are going relatively well. The conversation’s going great and the food and drinks are delicious (as far as beer and pizza go, some of the best Tommy’s had stateside), and he thinks that in the shadows of a dark theater will be just what Evan needs to fall back into a feeling of ease with the whole first date thing.

Until Eddie shows up. Tommy covers quickly - just some food and a movie - no talk of dates, no implications that they’re anything more than just hanging out. He wants to spare Evan the panic of not knowing what to say to Eddie here, in public, in front of Tommy and a room full of strangers. It should’ve been enough, but it isn’t.

“And then we’re going to go find some hot chicks.”

The second the words leave Evan’s mouth, Tommy freezes. He knows Evan is panicking, he remembers what it’s like to go on those first few dates… and he knows that he can’t go back there. He can’t be that person again, not for anyone, not even for Evan, and that kills him. Tommy remembers how miserable it was, how miserable he was, and that defensive part of him comes back in a way he isn’t proud of.

Eddie comments about always needing more closet space for Marisol, when Tommy quips, “Ain’t that the truth. Right, Evan?”

The words are harsh, bitter, and he isn't even sure Evan, in all his queer realization infancy, even understands the double-entendre.

Tommy can’t do this. He can’t be here, not while he feels like this. Not when he might say something to Evan he’ll truly regret and ruin this entire experience for him more than it already is.

Once Tommy’s back home, fully removed from the situation and at ease in his living room with a bottle of beer, he can finally parse through his own thoughts and feelings.

It doesn’t take him long to realize that it isn’t Buck’s inability to come out to Eddie that upset Tommy, so much as Evan’s need to toss Tommy back in that closet with him that sent his fight-or-flight into overdrive at the end of their date. It took everything in Tommy to be comfortable with who he is and who he wants to love, and in one second of Evan uttering the words “hot chicks” he felt like he was back at the old 118, forced to laugh at homophobic jokes to save face.

It isn’t just that Evan isn’t ready to be out, it’s that Tommy isn’t ready to have to hide their relationship just to have one. It feels selfish, like it’s a small compromise he should be able to make for Evan’s sake… but it isn’t a small thing, not to Tommy.

Fuck.

He hates this. He hates the look of disappointment he saw on Evan’s face when he got into that car without him. He hates the way he broke things off so easily on the sidewalk knowing how important the night was for Evan - Evan, who still wanted to go to the movies, even after everything else. Tommy likes Evan. Calling him adorable was a downplay - everything about the man is so frustratingly endearing on top of his obvious physical attraction, and a part of Tommy debates picking up the phone and calling him then and there.

He doesn’t. He gives it a day. He’ll reach back out then, at least to clear the air now that he has a better handle on his own mind. He doesn’t want to rush Evan, who probably needs more than an hour or two to process his own feelings about all of this. Not just the night, not just Tommy, but all of it. It took Tommy years to get to the space he needed to be in, both in his environment as well as internally. He doesn’t expect Evan to get there in an hour, and Evan deserves better than being bombarded with deep talks and ultimatums.

Because that’s what it’ll come down to, in the end. Evan isn’t ready to be fully out, and Tommy isn’t ready to pretend he and his date are going to go pick up chicks later as a cover, and unless one of them is willing to compromise this simply isn’t the right place, right time for the two of them. And that’s okay. Tommy’s willing to accept that, to walk away from Evan as a romantic partner and keep him as a friend… but he doesn’t know that Evan is. The last thing he wants is for Evan to feel forced to compromise his own comfort to stay with Tommy, to agree to a life he isn’t ready to live just to make Tommy happy.

So Tommy waits, and carefully thinks and overthinks the next words he’ll say to Evan when he calls the next day.

Except Evan calls first.

“Hey… Hey, Tommy. You answered,” Evan says, the relief palpable through the phone.

“Of course I did,” Tommy reassures him, heart already aching over how nervous Evan sounds.

“Of course you did,” Evan repeats, as if trying to convince himself that he’s deserving of Tommy’s attention. “Listen, uh… I want to talk.”

“We are talking,” Tommy points out.

Evan laughs, that same nervous burst of a sound that Tommy’s already used to hearing, and it brings a smile to his face that Evan can’t see through the phone.

“Yeah, uh, I guess we are. But I mean, I want to talk in person. If that’s okay,” Evan adds quickly, giving Tommy an easy out.

“Sure,” Tommy agrees easily, eager to make this as painless for Evan as possible. Whatever Evan’s thinking, whatever he wants to say, Tommy wants to hear. He wants to be there for Evan, the way he was trying to be last night before his own emotions got the best of him.

“Maybe over coffee? Not like a date. I mean, not… not like a date, if you wanted, but after last night I wouldn’t blame you if-”

“Evan,” Tommy interrupts softly, kindly. “Coffee sounds fine.”

“Okay,” Evan says, the word more breathed out than spoken. “So coffee. Tomorrow morning. Text me somewhere you like and we’ll meet at eight?”

“Eight is great,” Tommy can’t help saying, smirking a bit to himself.

“Great,” Evan echoes back, and Tommy isn’t sure if he’s imagining the sound of the smile that seems to accompany the word before they hang up.

Some things matter too much to say over text or a phone call, Tommy remembers saying during his visit to Evan’s apartment. Tommy can only hope that whatever it is that remains between them still matters that much to Evan, because it matters that much to him.

#hopeful ending #bucktommy #tommy kinard #evan buckley #tommy pov #911 #911 on abc #911 spoilers #i am living this tommy introspection life #kinley #kinkley #elle writes a few deadbeat lines

[some-little-infamy]

Rare Doesn't Mean Never

(Read on AO3)

Caleb can count on two fingers the number of people he’s trusted enough to travel with alone, just the two of them against the world. One is Nott, a brave soul he’ll count as one of his closest friends for the rest of his life, and the other is the drow wizard standing next to him, Essek Thelyss.

Caleb is no stranger to traveling alone. Honestly, after every significant turning point in his life, it’s the way he imagined spending the remainder of his days. Traveling and making do on his own, with no one to worry about and no one to worry over him. It’s an easy life, a safe life.

But there have been other times when he found himself part of a group. The first being his time with Astrid and Eadwulf. Caleb knows now that their friendship was born of both necessity and shared trauma, but that doesn’t take away from the meaning it held and the way it shaped him during such formative years. Then it was the Mighty Nein, an entire group of unlikely friends that wormed their way into his heart so deeply that there were moments he would’ve - and almost did, on several occasions - die for them.

None of those times hold a candle to what Caleb experiences when he adventures and fights and simply exists alongside Essek. He sleeps easily knowing that their shared protections surround them on the darkest nights and guide their travels during the daylight hours. Being with Essek - holding his hand and hearing his thoughts and sharing embraces once they were alone - often leaves Caleb feeling as if he’s floating on air. It isn’t a complacent comfort, but the kind that leaves Caleb with the feeling that he can try anything, no matter how brazen an idea. If Caleb can think it, Essek will support his every step toward making it a reality. It’s a fire that keeps Caleb questioning, constantly researching, and striving for more.

Unfortunately, it’s a fire that burns as often as it fuels. Researching is rarely as safe as it sounds, leading the pair of them to dangerous places in search of knowledge and answers. Caleb always offers to go alone, and Essek always insists on coming with him. It’s a well-practiced dance between them with every new lead Caleb gets, and each time Essek steps through a portal by his side Caleb hopes for the best and fears the worst.

It’s rare that the worst is what greets them, but unfortunately, rare doesn’t mean never.

“Caleb, behind you!” Essek shouts. Caleb had been preoccupied with the beast in front of him, his fire doing little damage to the creatures that appear to be curiously water-based in nature. He was so singularly focused, that he didn’t see one sliding soundlessly into position behind him.

Caleb starts to turn, but he’s too late. The creature shifts its almost gelatinous body, seeming to wash over Caleb rather than properly attacking him. For a second he thinks he’s unharmed, and then he feels the tingling sensation settle over every inch of exposed skin. His flesh, cold a moment before, begins to feel like nothing at all as his hands fall limp to his side.

“Essek, it’s paralyzing!” He barely manages the words, forcing them through uncooperating lips that rebel against even the slightest opening and closing.

Essek’s eyes widen in concern and Caleb wonders if it’s over his current state or the fact that with Caleb down all three of the creatures are turning their focus on him. It hardly matters. With a renewed urgency Essek closes his eyes, focuses, and unleashes three rays of frost that pierce through the center of the creatures, freezing them from the inside out. Caleb sits before he can fall completely. Just as he loses the last of his muscle control, gentle hands catch his head before it can crack off the earth below.

Essek kneels next to him, panting heavily from exertion. Caleb can feel the slight tremor in the arms that slide under him and lift the upper half of his body into Essek’s lap. A warm wave passes over him, magic that dries Caleb’s skin of any remaining paralytic residue.

“Caleb?” Essek asks, his voice soft.

Caleb can’t speak in reply. He can’t nod, or so much as blink to show that he’s listening. He should be terrified. He should feel helpless, anxious, and unnerved over being exposed and unable to defend himself.

All he feels, however, is reassured knowing that Essek is there with him.

After several failed attempts to pull the poison from Caleb’s veins, Essek curses. “I’m so sorry, my love.”

Caleb wants to reassure him, to tell him that it’s alright. He did what he could, and now all there is to do is wait.

Except Essek has never been good at doing nothing. He stands, pacing back and forth beside Caleb, then turning his attention to their surroundings.

“I don’t want to risk taking you through a portal in this condition,” Essek admits. “I can carry you, but that just puts us both at a disadvantage if there are more of these creatures out here. I can’t believe my research didn’t turn anything up on them… it should have. I should’ve known…” Caleb should’ve known, too. They both did their research, they’re both to blame if either one of them is, but Caleb knows research only goes so far. That’s why they’re out here, in the world, risking the danger of the unknown. The truth is rarely safe, nor is it easy. Finding the answers he seeks has risks they both accept.

“We’ll wait. I’ll stand guard, and we’ll camp here. Are you cold?” Essek asks, immediately frowning when he remembers that Caleb cannot answer. “I’ll start a small fire,” Essek answers himself without hesitation.

Caleb isn’t cold, because he isn’t anything at all. The numbness that stops his limbs from moving also stops his nerves from acknowledging any of the elements around him. He can see the wind moving Essek’s hair, and the patches of frost that slowly begin to form over the ground, but he feels neither the bite of the wind nor the snap of the cold.

As the feeling slowly but surely comes back to him, Caleb almost misses the paralyzing effects that saved him from being aware of just how freezing his body is. He wonders if it was always this cold here or if it’s a lingering effect of the powerful frost Essek spread… minutes before? Hours? Caleb has difficulty placing just how much time has passed since their arrival and immediate attack.

He blinks once, then twice, and feels a small shiver ripple down his spine. The movements feel small and inconsequential but Essek must’ve been watching him like a hawk because he notices them immediately.

“You’re alive,” Essek breathes, dropping to the ground by Caleb’s side without hesitation. Essek lifts up Caleb’s torso to pull him close, pressing Caleb’s cheek against his own. It isn’t often that Essek is the warmer of the two of them, but Caleb basks in the heat his body attempts to absorb through the brief contact. “You were so cold, and I saw you breathing but it was so shallow that I was afraid your lungs would paralyze as well, or-”

Caleb makes a sound that’s more mumble than speech as he forces his lips apart enough to get the words out in the space directly next to Essek’s ear. “M’fine.”

“Oh, you’re fine are you?” Essek says with a huff, carefully pulling away and re-adjusting Caleb’s body to rest in his lap. “Then that makes one of us.”

Caleb would laugh if he could. It’s only in these private moments together that they both allow their guards to drop and their insecurities to show. Only to each other do they bear their truest thoughts and deepest fears.

It’s no secret to either of them that losing the other tops that list of fears.

“S’rry,” Caleb manages. He can’t open and close his mouth enough to form full words, but he thinks it’s enough for Essek to understand him just the same. “Didn’ ‘ean to s’are you.”

Essek doesn’t reply to that, and Caleb stops trying to force out words in order to conserve his energy. As Caleb slowly regains movement in his toes first and then his fingers, Essek runs his long, thin fingers through Caleb’s hair in soothingly repetitive motions. He uses his magic to check for anything on Caleb he can heal, occasionally warming him until his body takes over the action of regulating his own temperature once more.

It’s a long, grueling process. Caleb may not be able to speak properly, but the sounds of pain as his muscles are able to move again are unmistakable. Every nerve that comes back to life feels like it’s on fire for several minutes, a sharp, constant pain that inches through his body at a snail’s pace.

“I could heal you faster, but then I risk not having enough energy to get us back home,” Essek says, eyeing Caleb closely for any sign of a response.

Caleb shakes his head slowly. He’s no stranger to pain, and he’s come back from worse without anyone to aid and reassure him. Still, the comfort is nice. Even the pangs of guilt he feels over putting Essek in danger are coupled with joy in the knowledge that he has someone willing to put themselves in danger for him. Willing to stay, for him.

It’s all the healing he needs, clinging to that knowledge as he pushes through the pain until he can sit himself upright.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Caleb says, waiting until he’s certain he can get the words out with every ounce of strength he possesses. They ring true, as clear and simple as the feeling they’re born from.

“You’d do what you’ve always done, Caleb. You’d survive.” Caleb considers this. It’s true. He knows it’s true, but he also knows a life now that’s more than simply getting by for the sake of survival. Now that he has it he never wants to lose it, or worse, have to re-learn how to live without it.

“Perhaps,” Caleb agrees, taking Essek’s offered hand to stand again for the first time since the attack. His legs are wobbly, but Essek holds him steady until he straightens up fully on his own. “But I much prefer living.”

The statement hangs between them as heavy as the winds that pick up around them. Slowly, Caleb smiles, giving a gentle squeeze to the hand holding his. The squeeze is returned by Essek who smiles softly back.

Wordlessly, they begin the work to open a portal home.

#long post #caleb widogast #essek thelyss #caleb x essek #shadowgast #hurt/comfort #elle writes a few deadbeat lines #critical role #c2

[some-little-infamy]

You Kept This?

Flufftober Day 12 - “You Kept This?”  (Read on AO3)

“I’m disgusting, Derek,” Stiles whines. He knows that he’s whining, he’s fully aware of the petulant tone his voice takes the longer he tries to convince Derek to let him come inside. “I can’t show up at home looking like his.”

Stiles gives his best puppy-dog-pleading eyes at Derek, not that he expects it to have any actual effect on the tall, dark, and brooding werewolf.

He’s surprised when it does.

“Fine,” Derek sighs. “Five minutes. Splash some water on your face and get out.”

Stiles looks down incredulously. He doesn’t say anything more, only stares pointedly at his stained and ripped t-shirt, the jacket that used to be over it long gone in the woods somewhere from the fight they just barely escaped from.

Derek gives him a ‘how is that my problem’ look, and Stiles would be impressed with how easily the two of them can communicate without words if he wasn’t so frustrated.

“Fine. Five minutes and one shirt,” Derek relents, pushing the front door open.

Stiles wastes no time going immediately to the bathroom to clean off. He’s acutely aware of the fact that Derek will kick him out dripping wet and shirtless at the five-minute mark if he doesn’t hurry.

Derek isn’t in his room when Stiles emerges 2 minutes later, so Stiles takes it upon himself to rifle through his drawers for a shirt.

Stiles expects to find nothing but dark, solid-colored tank tops and t-shirts. The last thing he expects to find is his shirt. The blue and burnt-orange striped shirt that Derek borrowed from Stiles what feels like lifetimes ago sits folded and pressed neatly on top of a stack of maroon polos.

Stiles freezes.

He’s still standing there, holding his shirt, his shirt which Derek kept, when Derek comes into the room.

“What’s taking you so long? I said you get five min--” Derek’s words drop off when he sees what Stiles is holding. “Uh. Oh. Yeah, you should, uh, take that back. I’ve been keeping it for you.”

“Keeping it for me?” Stiles repeats. He knows that doesn’t make any sense. They’ve seen each other dozens of times since then. “You could’ve given it back ages ago.”

“I forgot.” Stiles raises an eyebrow.

“A lot.”

“You kept it,” Stiles says, a smile spreading across his face. “For you.”

“You can’t prove that,” Derek says. “And if you ever try and tell anyone I’ll kill you.”

Stiles beams. He considers taking the shirt back, but folds it back up and places it back in the drawer instead.

“You can keep it for me a while longer,” Stiles says, grabbing a black t-shirt to change into instead. He half expects Derek to argue and is pleasantly surprised when he doesn’t.

Stiles gets the feeling he may be pleasantly surprised by a lot, if he plays his cards right.

#sterek #stiles stilinski #derek hale #teen wolf #this is entirely my spouse's fault #i can't believe i've written my first sterek in the year 2022 #elle writes a few deadbeat lines #flufftober 2022

[bytheangell]

Hey I saw your plea for prompts!!! No pressure if you're not interested, but could I have a 54 for Thomastair fluff and/or hurt/comfort? "It's you and me against the world?"

(Read on AO3) "I'm going to tell them." 

Thomas says the words with a resolute tone and a small nod of his head. Thomas is sitting on the other side of the sofa, a notebook in front of him that’s meant to be filled with notes but looks far too empty for how long they’ve been sitting there. 

"Tell who what?" Alistair asks, looking up from his book with a cocked eyebrow. Despite Thomas making his declaration as if giving an answer to end a conversation, it's been silent between them for nearly half an hour. Alastair could tell that there's something on Thomas' mind but he's found that if he doesn't push it, Thomas is more likely to open up on his own.  

"Everyone everything," Thomas replies unhelpfully.  

Alastair purses his lips together, wondering if Thomas is being intentionally obtuse simply to mess with him. 

"About us, I mean," Thomas adds quickly at the sight of Alastair's expression.  

Alastair wonders where this is coming from all of a sudden.  Not that he isn't thrilled at the idea,  but… well, he knows Thomas' friends and he can't say he's eager to see their reactions.  

"Why the sudden change of heart?" 

"Because you've changed my heart." 

It's such a simple, sincere reply yet it sends Alastair's heartbeat racing with a giddiness he'd deny until his dying day.  

"And your friends?" Alastair can't help but ask.  

"They'll understand. They'll come around eventually.  And if they don't…" Thomas' newfound resolve waivers for the first time. He swallows thickly but pushes through without much hesitation. "... if they don't, then that's their loss. I love you, Alastair, and I want everyone to know it, even if it's you and me against the world." 

Alastair is so moved by that simple sentiment that he blinks a few times in rapid succession to make sure there’s no danger of unexpected tears being shed. 

“Every time I think I have you figured out, you surprise me in the best of ways,” Alastair says, placing his book down on the table in front of him. He shifts over to sit closer to Thomas, bringing a hand up to cup the side of Thomas’ face before kissing him the best he can through the impossibly large smile on his face. 

“So I take it you’re okay with me telling them, then?” Thomas asks when they finally pull away. “They may be awful to you, or- ”  “Hey, hey,” Alastair cuts Thomas off, shaking his head and taking Thomas’ hands in his own.  “However they react, I can handle it. We can handle it. Together. You and me against the world, remember?”

#thomastair #alastair carstairs #thomas lightwood #tsc #elle writes a few deadbeat lines #ask rune #this one is a bit on the short side but I hope you like it! #ibrushmyteeth-donttellanyone

[bytheangell]

A prompt for youuuuu m’lady~

33. “Keep your hands over your ears, do you hear me? Even when the noises stop. Don’t listen.”

For Malec?;)

Have a great day!!

Don't Look Back (Read on AO3)

Alec knows it’s his fault they’re here in the first place. He got cocky, or maybe careless… no, careless isn’t the right word. Reckless, but reckless in the face of trying to save the man he loves. He should’ve trusted that Magnus could handle himself, and should’ve listened when Magnus told him to run.

Now Alec stands within a cage of magical making, one he cannot escape unless the warlock who created it either takes down the walls or dies. Magnus stands on the other side, helpless to break it. Alec left himself an easy target, and now he’s being used as the one bait Magnus can’t walk away from.

“Magnus, please. Just get out of here and save yourself.” There are sounds from down the hallway, voices and footsteps, and flashes of magic that Alec knows won’t be good for either of them. “I’ll be fine.” “You’ll be dead,” Magnus says, his tone a bone-chilling mixture of casual and cruel. “And I can’t have that.”

“Magnus, I-”

“Shhh,” Magnus hushes sharply. “Alexander, I need you to listen to me. Close your eyes, and keep your hands over your ears, do you hear me? Even when the noises stop. Don’t listen.”

“Magnus, what are you going to do?” Alec asks.

“What I need to,” Magnus replies. “Please, Alexander. If you’re ever going to listen to me, listen to me now.”

There’s a desperation behind Magnus’ words that convinces Alec to close his eyes and bring his hands over his ears without any further hesitation. Not listening to Magnus is what brought them here in the first place, and he isn’t going to make the same mistake twice.

The sound that reaches Alec’s ears is nearly deafening, even through his palms pressed against his ears as hard as he can manage. There’s a light so bright he can see it beyond his clenched-shut eyelids, a flash of light red that brightens the blackness. The temptation to look is stronger than anything Alec’s ever felt before, and as the air around him begins to whip and pull at his clothing he almost does it.

Then it’s silent.

Alec takes a deep breath and releases the tension in his body ever-so-slightly, but keeps his hands over his ears and his eyes shut tight.

Even when the noises stop.

Alec wonders how long he should stay like this. The longer the silence draws out the faster the panic begins to rise, turning his stomach into knots and tightening his chest as his breathing quickens. What if Magnus is injured, or dead, and Alec is just standing there with his eyes shut doing nothing…

A gentle hand on Alec’s shoulder makes him jump, eyes snapping open with a split-second determination of whether the hand is a friend or an enemy. When his gaze lands on Magnus’ face mere inches away from his own, his first emotion is relief.

When he sees the way Magnus’ eyes droop with barely enough energy to remain open, his legs shaking until his knees buckle and he drops to the pavement below.

That’s when Alec finally takes in the other bodies on the ground. A quick glance shows nearly a dozen of them, and Alec can’t tell if they’re all warlocks or not. He also can’t tell if they’re unconscious or dead, and at this particular moment, he doesn’t want to know. If he thinks hard enough he’ll piece together that the barrier around him is no longer active, so at least one of them is dead.

Deep down, Alec knows he doesn’t care, not while Magnus is clearly hurting.

“Let’s get you out of here,” he says instead, focusing on escaping while he can.

Alec knows he’ll have to ask later but for now, he does his best to look past his surroundings, pretending he still can’t see or hear anything as he supports Magnus the best he can on their way out, never once looking back.

#malec #magnus bane #alec lightwood #shadowhunters #ask rune #ithinkimightbelost925-blog #hope you like it!! thanks for the prompt! #i'm having fun getting back into the swing of writing with these little blurbs #elle writes a few deadbeat lines

[bytheangell]

Rumor Has It

Flufftober Day 22 - Have You Heard?  (Read on AO3)

Raphael hears the whispers of ‘have you seen?’ and ‘have you heard?’. He doesn’t know why anyone who has ever lived under his careful watch in the Hotel Dumort would ever imagine there are things they could say that wouldn’t reach his ears… but perhaps they don’t imagine that. Perhaps everyone whispering is doing so in the hopes that he does hear.

He’s endlessly amused by it. Raphael knows that he could put an end to the rumors but instead he chooses to remain silent, waiting for someone to say something to him.

Unsurprisingly, it’s Lily to finally comes to him directly.

“Hey, Raphael? The clan was talking, and you know how we all know that you and Simon are totally a thing, even though neither of you has actually openly admitted to it?” It’s rhetorical, but Lily pauses anyway to gauge Raphael’s reaction.

“We haven’t denied it,” he counters. Raphael likes Lily, she’s always been one of his favorites, and it’s nice to have someone he doesn’t feel the need to tiptoe around.

“Yeah, well, apparently a few people have seen Simon out with Jace. Like, out. With Jace. The way he’s with you,” Lily says, frowning.

“I’m aware,” Raphael says.

“We can kill him for you if you-- wait, what?” Lily stutters.

“I’m aware,” Raphael repeats. “They’re dating.”

“But you and Simon…” “Are also dating,” Raphael confirms.

“Oh,” Lily says. “Yeah. Okay, cool.”

“Is it?” Raphael asks. He’s genuinely curious about what she thinks of the situation - to entangle himself with another member of the clan is one thing, but to open that relationship to a Shadowhunte…

“I mean, I can’t believe Simon’s pulling two hotties and I can’t get a single date right now, but…”

Raphael rolls his eyes.

“Yeah. Of course, it’s cool,” Lily continues. “You’re happy, aren’t you? You seem like you’ve been happier lately,” Lily observes.

“I am,” Raphael agrees.

Raphael wonders what sort of reaction Lily and the others will have when they realize that Raphael is dating Simon and Jace, too. For now, what they don’t know won’t hurt them.

“Great,” Lily says. “Then as far as I’m concerned, the rest is none of my business. We just want to make sure you aren’t getting hurt.”

It’s a nice sentiment. It’s too nice, really, and Raphael finds himself getting a little emotional over the concern his clan has for him, even if they don’t always show it in the best ways.

“I appreciate your concern. You can tell the others to stop being such insufferable gossips, too. This is a vampire clan, not a sorority house.”

Lily laughs. “Will do, boss.”

#raphael santiago #jace herondale #simon lewis #rjs #shadowhunters #saphael #jimon #elle writes a few deadbeat lines #flufftober 2022

[some-little-infamy]

Something to Hold On To

(For my darling spouse @thatnerdemryn as a slightly belated birthday gift! <3) (Read on AO3)

Eddie notices it the first few times Steve falls asleep around him. One time Steve sits propped up against Eddie after nodding off while watching tv, another time sprawled out on Eddie's sofa after drifting off on the time it takes Eddie to run to the kitchen and grab drinks. Both times Steve brings his arms up in front of him, close to his chest, almost like he's trying to clutch at some invisible blanket.

Eddie also notices that Steve can never seem to get comfortable, either. He tosses and turns, occasionally reaching out around him only to bring his arms back in with a subconscious frown when he realizes they're empty. It’s cute, but it would be cuter if whatever’s missing isn’t something that clearly bothers Steve enough to disrupt his sleep and cause him discomfort.

It takes Eddie a little while to figure out what it is. He tries asking Steve directly once, but all Harrington does is stutter his way through some dismissal Eddie knows is bullshit about not knowing what he does while he’s sleeping. Steve claims to have no idea what Eddie can possibly be talking about. Eddie knows it’s bullshit because Steve Harrington never stutters his way through anything and because Steve always runs a hand nervously through his hair as he lies.

The audacity of this guy, Eddie thinks. He likes to imagine that the two of them are beyond the point of lying to keep up appearances, or being afraid of what the other may think, but clearly, he’s wrong. So he decides to put his mind to figuring out what it is that Steve is so embarrassed about that he feels the need to lie to Eddie.

Honestly, once he starts really thinking about it, the answer is pretty damn obvious. Eddie could ask Steve if he’s right, but he’d rather test his theory by catching Steve off guard.

The next time Steve is over and starts to doze off, Eddie waits until he’s nearly asleep before sliding the light brown teddy bear into Steve’s arms, watching the way they curl around the stuffed animal immediately. It’s the exact same motion Eddie’s seen Steve make countless times before, but this time it’s met with a small smile of comfort as Steve’s arms find what they’re looking for in their grasp.

Smiling down at Steve, Eddie watches the way Steve looks so endearingly at peace while he sleeps in a way that Eddie hasn’t seen before. This is absolutely it. This is what’s been missing. Eddie doesn’t have to ask why Steve didn’t just tell him he likes to sleep with a stuffed animal - he has his macho-man, too-cool-for-emotions facade and all to keep up with. But still… this is Eddie. Steve has to know he doesn’t have to keep up appearances around Eddie, right?

An hour later Steve wakes up slowly, groggily processing what’s in his hands before his eyes shift focus into alertness real quick.

“Where did this come from?” Steve asks, holing the bear up at Eddie.

“I gave it to you,” Eddie says. “You sleep with one at home, don’t you?”

Steve hesitates, and when he finally answers his words are accompanied by a beautiful flush in his cheeks and a flustered stutter.

“I don’t… What gave you that idea?” Steve huffs.

“Steve…” Eddie prompts, eyebrow raised expectantly.

“Fine. Yes.”

Eddie smiles, but it isn’t the teasing smirk that Steve probably expects from him. It’s something softer.

“Well, now you have one for when you sleep here,” Eddie says.

“I don’t need-” Steve starts, but cuts his protest short as Eddie’s eyes narrow at him.

“I think what you mean to say is, ‘Thank you, Eddie, for anticipating my needs when I’m too embarrassed to tell you what they are’,” Eddie suggests, and this time his words are accompanied by a small smirk.

“Thanks, Eds,” Steve says, giving the stuffed animal a small squeeze. “It’s nice. No one’s ever really… yeah. It’s nice.”

“You’re welcome,” Eddie replies.

“Does this mean you don’t mind when I fall asleep here?” Steve asks with a small, knowing grin.

“Not at all, Harrington,” Eddie promises. “In fact, I wouldn’t mind if you did it more often… like tonight, if you wanted.”

“Yeah?” Steve sounds cautiously hopeful like he’s making sure Eddie isn’t just messing with him.

“Yeah. If you want,” Eddie repeats. He thinks he’s been reading the room right on this one, but he’s never been entirely certain. Especially not when it comes to someone like Steve, who has been one surprise after another since Eddie really started to get to know him.

“I do,” Steve agrees. “Tonight sounds great.”

As it turns out, the teddy bear ends up being entirely unnecessary when Eddie stays the night. Instead of wrapping his arms around the stuffed animal, Steve wraps his arms around Eddie, pulling him close.

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #stranger things #a bit of birthday fluff #you know for my once-every-three-month post on this blog #because i'm a garbage person #elle writes a few deadbeat lines

[some-little-infamy]

My Person

(Read on AO3)

Eddie knows that the relief of having one of his family members watch Christopher only lasts until the moment he pulls up outside of their house. It doesn’t matter which member of the family it is - they all have something to say about how Eddie’s managing his life. He can’t escape a pick-up without at least one off-handed remark about something he’s doing… or, more likely, something he isn’t doing.

“I just don’t understand why you haven’t found someone to settle down with yet,” Pepa says.

Eddie sighs, barely restraining an eye roll.

“I don’t have time to date, and you know that," he says.

"I'd be happy to watch Christopher more often if you wanted-" Pepa offers, but Eddie cuts her off.

"I already hate how often I'm away from him. I don't want to make it more."

"But it would be for his benefit in the long run," Pepa pushes.

"We're just fine the way we are, thanks," Eddie says, doing his best not to sound as defensive as he feels. He knows that this comes from a good place - that she just wants him to be happy. "What benefits Christopher right now is consistency. He doesn't need to see a rotating door of women at the apartment."

It's at that moment Christopher comes into the kitchen, shifting his backpack up on his shoulder where it keeps sliding down.

"C'mon Chris, time to go home," Eddie says, thinking he's in the clear.

"Hey Christopher," Pepa says, and Eddie freezes. She wouldn’t bring him into this, surely…

“Wouldn’t you like it if your dad had someone at home with you to, oh, I don’t know, help you with your homework?” She asks, putting all the innocence in the world behind her tone.

“He does,” Christopher says without hesitation. “Buck helps me with my homework all the time.”

Pepa shakes her head. “No, but I mean someone who is there all the time.”

“Buck is there all the time,” Chris points out. And yeah, Eddie thinks, he isn’t wrong, even if that isn’t the sort of ‘around’ that Pepa means.

“What about someone to help you get ready for school in the morning? Or cook dinner with you at night?” Pepa asks, trying to narrow exactly what she means by her line of questioning.

“Buck lets me wear my light-up sneakers even when it’s going to be muddy out,” Christopher says. “And he helps me make cookies to bring into class! He isn’t so great at cooking regular food but we always pretend it isn’t that bad,” Christopher adds, laughing at what Eddie’s sure is the last time Buck tried to cook an actual dinner for the three of them, only to end up burning half of it.

“Well, it sure sounds like this Buck is around a lot, isn’t he?” Pepa asks, this time her questioning is aimed at Eddie and not Christopher.

Eddie hadn’t really thought about how much more Buck’s been around lately - playing video games with Christopher or helping with homework or staying for meals. Eddie thinks about how his place was the one place Buck felt safe enough coming to after his coma when he needed an escape from the well-wishers rotating through his own apartment, considering the implication that Eddie was as much of a comfort for him as Buck has been for Eddie these past few months.

“Yeah, I guess he is,” Eddie admits. Honestly, he’s gotten so used to Buck being around that he hadn’t stopped to think about how much he was helping out with Christopher, and how he always seems to be perfectly happy to do whatever might be needed at the moment. Buck even cleaned up the living room the other night while Eddie put Christopher to bed.

“What else does Buck do with you?” Pepa asks Christopher.

“Buck told me the best bedtime story the other night,” Chris supplies easily. “He never reads them from a book, he just tells them from memory. He said he’s going to take me surfing soon, too! Just like dad and Buck too me skateboarding.”

“I see,” Pepa says. “And you trust Buck to take Christopher into the ocean like that?”

Eddie thinks he should pause longer, or have to think about it more, but he doesn’t. There’s a reason he made Buck the person who would get custody of Chris if he dies. And after the lengths Buck went to save Christopher during the tsunami, and the way Christopher goes to Buck when he’s upset? It isn’t even a question.

“I trust Buck with Christopher’s life,” Eddie admits easily.

“It looks like you already have your person then, doesn’t it, mi sobrino?” Pepa says.

Eddie does hesitate now, because what she’s implying… Buck is just a friend. He’s just a friend who likes to spend time with Eddie and his kid. Just a friend who does everything Eddie would normally pay Carla to do, only he does it just because he likes to help and spend time with them. Just a friend he entrusts his child to if anything happens to him, a friend he trusts to do right by Christopher more than any family member.

It never occurred to Eddie that part of the reason he’s so content to not be dating right now is because he’s, well, content.

And Evan Buckley plays no small role in that contentedness.

“I have to go,” Eddie says abruptly, taking Christopher by the arm and half-dragging him to the truck.

His person is waiting.

#buddie #evan buckley #christopher diaz #eddie diaz #9-1-1 #9-1-1 on fox #spec fic #pre-relationship #feelings realization #i meant for this to be longer but the episode is tomorrow so i wanted to yeet it into the world now #elle writes a few deadbeat lines

[bytheangell]

hello elle! i've noticed you haven't posted as much as usual and i figured that's something every writer goes through but i'm rooting for you! right now i'm trying to work on a waywood longfic that i hope to start posting this year 😅

hope things go fine for you, you always have my best wishes. since you said you're open to anything, maybe do you feel like to write more waywood? you'll have my enthusiasm and joy supporting you 😆

from the prompt list you posted, some i felt that waywood could go for were 4, 5, 7, 22, 47, 189 and 193. of course, you should only write what you feel like writing ☺️

(Read on AO3)

People always say that children can be cruel, but they often overlook the fact that they take after the equally heartless adults who raise them.

It was one thing when the other students taunted Robert for his family history - whenever he does too well, or too poorly, it’s either ‘good to know you’re smarter than a worm’ or ‘what did you expect from a Lightworm?’. Robert was used to that. No matter how far his family came, no matter how much distance they put between themselves and Benedict’s legacy, it never seemed to be enough.

It was another thing to have one of the Institute’s Professors step in to break up a fight and say “Why am I not surprised to find a Lightwood at the heart of another problem?” when Robert had done nothing wrong. He’d never done anything wrong. He’d done nothing but his best to keep turning his family name into something positive, something to be proud of. It was never enough. He was never enough.

And the one person who thought Robert was enough, Robert pushed away.

Robert didn’t wait for the Professor to finish before he turned, started running, and didn’t look back.

Robert hadn’t spoken to Michael in days now… or was it weeks? And yet in this moment, getting more lost by the second as he made his way through the pitch-black forest, everything inside of him screamed for Michael’s company.

Robert tripped over a root, or a rock and fell hard to the ground below. He felt a cut across his knee, the pain of a twisted muscle in his wrist, and even though he could get up if he wanted to he chose not to. He sat there, on the cold, hard ground, and his heart, mind, and soul all yearned for Michael to be by his side.

He didn’t know how long he sat there. He thought he may just stay on the ground forever, honestly. The next thing Robert knew, he heard the crunching of branches approaching, and then Michael was by his side.

“You’re hurt,” Michael said, reaching down for Robert. It wasn’t a question.

“Why are you here?” Robert asked, pulling his arm away from Michael’s reach and immediately regretting the action as a new sting of pain traveled from his wrist up the length of his arm.

“You’re hurt,” Michael repeated.

“The last time we spoke…” Robert trailed off.

“You were a proper asshole,” Michael confirmed, already pulling out his stele.

“Then why are you here?” Robert repeated.

“Because I could feel you out here, Robert. Hurting. Calling for me through our bond, whether you meant to or not. We’re parabatai…” Michael hesitated, but only for a second before pushing forward. “...and I love you. I told you that I’d never leave you; I’m not going anywhere.”

Michael held his stele over Robert’s healing rune, looking at Robert expectantly. Even after all this, he wanted to respect any boundaries Robert might set. Robert nodded slowly, closing his eyes against the comforting sensation of his parabatai activating his rune spread through him.

He didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t sure what he could say that would excuse his past actions, or show Michael the sort of appreciation he deserved for staying even now. Why should Michael bother to come all the way out here and help the person who kept trying to push him away?

But Michael was his Parabatai, and Robert should’ve known better than to think he’d have to say anything at all. In the silence that fell between them, Michael seemed to read his mind.

“I will always choose you, Robert. Even if you won’t always choose me.”

Robert didn’t deserve Michael, didn't deserve his reassurance and comfort... but just as Michael chose to be here, Robert could choose to accept it. 

And he did.  

#robert lightwood #michael wayland #waywood #tsc #shadowhunters #elle writes a few deadbeat lines #I fused two of these together for this one #it's been ages since I've written them so I hope it's alright <3 <3 #and I hope your fic writing and life in general is going well!! #ask rune #inquisitor-of-the-circle

[bytheangell]

Love Language

Flufftober Day 10 - Love Language (Read on AO3)

Raphael is caught off-guard the first time Simon gives him a gift.

“It’s nothing,” Simon insists. “It’s just that this seems like it’s way more your style than mine, and I know we’re the same size since I borrowed that suit for Alec’s almost wedding, so…”

Raphael inspects the dress shirt, a just-shy-of-black color with a raised, textured pattern in pure black. It is his style, and he isn’t sure what to make of the fact that Simon knows that after the short period of time they’ve known each other.

“Thank you,” Raphael says, deciding there’s no harm in accepting it. He ignores just how pleased Simon looks in return.

That isn’t the last time Simon gives him something. Some of the gifts are planned ahead of time, like the tickets to a show that Simon made sure would start enough after sundown to not be any risk. Another time it’s a brand of cologne Raphael casually mentioned running out of and not being able to find more of, which Simon managed to hunt down a near-perfect duplicate of.

Raphael tries not to think too hard about the fact that Simon’s putting all of this thought and effort into getting him these things. He tries even harder not to think about how much more meaningful the smaller, impromptu gifts are, like Simon swinging by Rosa’s while he’s out to drop off chocolates, or buying a flower from a street vendor to tuck into Raphael’s jacket pocket.

“What is this?” Raphael asks one day.

“It’s a pen,” Simon says, looking uncertainly down at the very nice fountain pen he just handed Raphael.

“No, I mean… all of this. The constant presents. I have plenty of money, I don’t need you to buy me things, Simon,” Raphael says.

“I know,” Simon agrees. “But I want to.”

“Why?” There it is, the root of it all. Raphael hasn’t asked that question yet, like maybe if he didn’t give the gifts too much attention or thought they would just stop. But they haven’t, and Simon probably never will, so he has to at least know why.

“You deserve nice things and you never really treat yourself, you know? You’re always too busy taking care of everyone else.”

Raphael considers that. Simon isn’t wrong, Raphael does spend most of his time and energy looking out for the clan, and for Simon and the other newer fledglings in particular.

“I’ve never been good at that sort of stuff, but Clary always said I was great at gifts,” Simon continues, speaking into Raphael’s continued silence. “I guess gift-giving is, like, my love language.”

It occurs to Raphael then that Simon considers Raphael taking care of him as Raphael’s love language. He’s tempted to argue, except Simon’s right. Raphael does many things out of obligation to his clan, but he does a lot more because he cares, and because he wants to rather than needs to.

It’s his love language.

“You are very great at gifts, Clarissa is correct,” Raphael says finally. “Thank you, Simon.”

“It’s just a pen,” Simon says with a shrug, but Raphael shakes his head.

“I believe tonight you’ve given me more than just a pen.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s just a pen,” Simon repeats.

Raphael turns away with an endeared smile to put his new favorite pen away somewhere special.

#saphael #simon lewis #raphael santiago #tsc #shadowhunters #can be read as romantic or platonic #dealer's choice #elle writes a few deadbeat lines #flufftober 2022

[some-little-infamy]

Honesty Has Its Benefits

(read on AO3) (Inspired by a plothook from @daniwib) 

It happens by accident. It’s such a simple moment, one no more dangerous than they’ve been in a dozen times before, and one much less dangerous than both of them have faced before.

The fire explodes outward, breaking the glass of every window, and splintering the wood of every door not already burning. Buck, the last one inside, gets thrown several feet by the blast, landing in a heap on a pile of rubble. He closes his eyes for a second, only to snap them open when he hears his name.

“Buck?! BUCK!”

It’s Eddie.

Buck forces himself to his feet, stance shaky, so Eddie won’t worry as much.

“I’m fine,” Buck manages, voice breaking with the effort of those two words. “Let’s get back to Cap and-”

Except just as Buck goes to walk back with Eddie toward the others Eddie stops him, grabbing his wrist and pulling Buck back around to face him.

“Stop. Almost. Dying.” Buck isn't sure if it's meant to sound like an order, but Eddie’s words come out as a desperate plea.

They make and hold eye contact for a few seconds too long, and there’s no denying exactly what the charged energy between them is and what it could mean. It isn't new, but it feels different this time.

It feels like it could be more than just wishful thinking.

“Make me,” Buck says. It's a challenge, but with it comes a promise: that if Eddie does make him, he'll listen.

Eddie does.

Eddie kisses him, short but intense, knowing that at any moment concerned members of the team will be rounding that corner after Eddie.

And just like that, everything Buck hoped and hinted at and prayed for, was real.

---

They don't tell the team at first.

Buck wonders if it's obvious, but a part of him realizes that he barely acts any differently at the station because these aren't new feelings, they're just newly admitted. In actuality, he looks at Eddie with the same endearing fondness he has for months now.

Still, things are different between them now on a fundamental level and they want to make sure that will last before they make any sweeping declarations about it to the rest of the team.

They wait two months.

Two months of Buck going back to Eddie's place more often than his own. Two months of more frequent radio check-ins in the field when they aren't in the others' line of sight. Two months of Buck switching shifts last minute to watch Christopher when Eddie's sitter bails last minute. Two months of stealing kisses and sneaking lingering touches when no one is looking.

When they tell the team they're met with soft smiles and exaggerated surprise that Buck's positive is for his and Eddie's benefit. Still, it's appreciated that even if they were suspected no one tried to force their hand until they were ready.

"Thanks, guys. I knew we could count on you to be cool about it," Buck says.

"Don't thank me for that yet," Chimney warns. "Wait until I have time to plan the 'thank God we don't have to keep pretending we didn't see you grab Eddie's ass last month' party."

"I told you someone would see that, " Eddie hisses, not quite under his breath.

"You didn't exactly pick the most subtle guy to date, Diaz," Hen points out.

Buck glances uncertainly over at Eddie, but the nerves aren't needed. Eddie, despite some mild embarrassment, is smiling.

The only person not smiling is Bobby, a fact that doesn't escape Buck's notice. Bobby is quiet and reserved, leaving while the rest of them chat and laugh without a single word to Buck or Eddie.

Buck exchanges a worried glance with Eddie, but even Bobby's silence can't put a total damper on the elated mood of the room that Buck is quick to return to.

Whatever Bobby's problem is, he can deal with it later. For now, he basks in Eddie's arm around his waist for the first time in front of their overly supportive friends, unable to imagine anything that could ever bring him down again.

---

It's a feeling that doesn't last long, because when he shows up for work the following day the mood in the air is tense. One glance through the window of Bobby's office shows him the reason: Captain Mehta and Chief Williams sit at his desk.

That's never a good sign.

Bobby must have been looking out for him because a second later he’s at the door and motioning for Buck to come over.

“What did you do, Buckley?” Chimney asks.

“Beats me,” Buck says, and for someone who is relatively certain he shouldn’t be in trouble he sure feels like a rock just landed in his stomach.

“Ah, good timing, Eddie. you too,” Bobby calls out, looking over Buck’s shoulder. Buck turns around to see Eddie coming up behind him, eyebrow raised. Buck shrugs and reaches his hand back for Eddie to take and gives a comforting squeeze.

"What's up, Cap?" Buck asks as causality as he can.

"Captain Mehta and Chief Williams are here to conduct an internal review to determine if the two of you can remain employed by the same firehouse," Bobby explains.

"What?!" Buck sputters. "Why wouldn't we?"

"Buck-" Eddie attempts to step in with calm reassurance.

"This is… this is discrimination!" Buck continues anyway.

"Before you go and start another lawsuit," Chief Williams says. "Maybe wait to hear us out?"

Buck winces and falls silent.

"We aren't here because of any complaints, which is a great start," she continues. "But we need to determine if the two of you remaining here together would compromise the team as a whole. "

Buck doesn't get it. This team is his family. It's Eddie's family. How could their dating have any impact on that if no one complained?

"They're worried we might focus too much on each other," Eddie says as if reading his mind. "Prioritize saving each other over someone closer, or who needs attention more."

Eddie's words are tense. He sounds frustrated but resigned, like he's more annoyed he didn't consider this before now. Buck knows the feeling… not that he would've done anything differently. It's fine. They're going to be fine.

"Exactly," Captain Mehta says, sounding relieved that they're all on the same page now. "It's to be expected. Who wouldn't want to save the person they love over anyone else?"

Buck makes sure to avoid eye contact with Eddie at that, because for everything they've discussed, everything they're so certain of, they haven't said The Word yet.

Captain Mehta chimes in to lay out the plan.

"We're going to ask the two of you to take the day so we can conduct interviews with your team without any undue influence from the two of you, and look over reports from the last… two months, did you say you were together?"

Buck nods, but his attention turns to Bobby.

“You knew,” he accuses. This is why Bobby was so somber yesterday. “You knew and you didn’t say anything.”

"Don’t be too mad at him, it’s protocol,” Captain Mehta says. ” Just to see if there are any patterns of bias or preferential treatment," he finishes.

"Why don't you just watch us now?" Buck asks, figuring following on a call or two would have to be easier than sifting through hours of reports.

"Because now you'd know we're looking, " Chief Williams points out. "You'd act differently. "

Buck tries to think back to recent calls, wondering if there's anything he did during them that might royally screw them over now. Not that it matters - what's done is done, but still… if he can think of something and try to get ahead of it, or just explain…

He's been in his head long enough to miss whatever was said next, but judging by the way Eddie starts moving toward the door it was probably a dismissal.

"It's fine, Buck. We'll handle it, whatever happens. We're going to be fine," Eddie promises him on their way out. Buck does his best to trust him, though he's heard Eddie use that line to appease Christopher one-too-many times for it to be truly reassuring.

---

The day off is torture. Buck should be able to enjoy the extra time with Eddie but all he can think about is how much he wants to text the others and see how the interviews are going.

"Buck, relax. I can see you overthinking from here," Eddie says, frowning over at him from across the little outdoor Cafe table they're sitting at.

"Sorry," Buck says, physically shaking his head to try and mentally shake himself out of the small spiral he's in. "How are you not freaking out?"

"Because our friends support us and we're damn good at our jobs," Eddie says simply. And he has a point - they are, and that should be enough.

The rest of the team says the same when they return to work the next day. Buck continues to overthink every move - when Eddie and Chimney pair off to go into a building Buck only radios Chim. He barely acknowledges Eddie all day, and there's an uncomfortable weight over the entire team because of it. The dynamic is off and he hates it, but he's afraid one wrong move will be the reason he or Eddie will have to leave.

They're told it would probably take a week or two, but Captain Mehta and Chief Williams are back the following morning.

That can't be good.

"Please, take a seat," Captain Mehta says, motioning to the chair next to where Eddie was already sitting.

"Wait," Buck says. "Don't we get a chance to speak for ourselves first?!"

"Buck, I don't think that's necessary-" Bobby starts, but stops when Chief Williams holds up a hand.

"No, go on. I'm curious what he has to say."

Buck braces, reminding himself that this isn't just his life on the line but Eddie's, too.

"I don't know what you read, or heard, but I swear to you that this entire team is my family. They're our family. And we would never put any of them or any member of the public at risk just because of our relationship. Eddie would dump me so fast if I let anyone die to save him instead."

Eddie huffs out a light laugh. "You're not wrong."

"And this isn't new. The label is, sure, but I've-" Buck's sentence drops off abruptly, but there's no other way for this to carry as much meaning as he needs it to. "I've loved Eddie for a lot longer than 2 months. And not once has it affected my judgment in the field."

"While we appreciate your honesty, Mr. Buckley-"

"And Eddie should be the one to stay," Buck blurts out.

"Buck-" Eddie protests immediately.

"Christopher needs the flexibility Cap can give him here. I know other firehouses won't be so understanding."

"Mr. Diaz will be staying, " Captain Mehta says.

For a moment Buck feels a strange warring of relief for Eddie and profound dread for himself, until the Captain continues.

"As will you, Mr. Buckley."

“What?” Buck ass, mouth hanging open in surprise.

“You’re both staying. Everyone on your team said the exact same thing - that they trust you with their lives. We looked through a few of the more recent reports and any time you two went out together it was strictly professional, and every judgment call was by the books. We’re normally a little more thorough, but when Captain Nash called to inform us of whatever horrible tension overtook the lot of you yesterday we decided to end your suffering early and go with our guts on this one.”

“Then why did you let me say all that?!” Buck asks, the elation of knowing his job is safe suddenly morphing into mild mortification over everything that just left his mouth in front of his superiors.

Chief Williams shrugs, barely holding back a full smirk. “I thought it might be amusing. I was right.” She moves toward the door with Captain Mehta behind her. “And from the look on Mr. Diaz’s face during your little speech, I think the two of you need a few minutes.”

“I’ll show you out,” Bobby offers, giving Buck and Eddie both a wide smile.

The moment they’re alone Eddie rounds on Buck. “I can’t believe you,” he says, shaking his head.

“Sorry. It just came out, I-”

“I cannot believe you would say you loved me for the first time when I couldn’t say it back,” Eddie continues, wasting no time in closing the gap between them and kissing Buck, uncaring of who’s prying eyes may be watching.

“Thank you,” Eddie says, nearly breathless, when they finally pull apart. Buck is pretty sure he can hear clapping and a few cheers muffled by the glass but he can’t be bothered to look - he can’t bring himself to look at anything but Eddie.

“For what?” Buck asks.

“For putting Christopher first. For standing up for us. For being you,” Eddie lists off. “Take your pick.”

“All of the above?” Buck suggests, grinning.

Eddie kisses him again, and Buck can feel Eddie’s lips pulling up into a smile against his own.

“Maybe let other people talk first from now on, though?” Eddie suggests.

Buck places his arms on Eddie’s shoulders, looking him in the eyes with a smirk. “I don’t know, I’d say talking first is playing out pretty well for me this time around.”

#buddie #9-1-1 on fox #9-1-1 #evan buckley #eddie diaz #long post #elle writes a few deadbeat lines

[some-little-infamy]

stubborn, even in death

(a 6x10 coda based on the 6x11 sneak peek) (Read on AO3) During the entire ambulance ride to the hospital, all Eddie felt was the distance between him and Buck. It was a matter of feet but it felt like there were oceans between them, nothing but a void of space that muffles the sounds of Hen and Chimney in the back. Even Bobby’s voice speaking from the seat next to him is muffled by Eddie’s racing pulse thumping in his ears, echoing inside his head.

Echoing a heartbeat that Buck doesn’t have.

Eddie barely gets the ambulance into park before the driver’s-side door is open and his legs swing out and onto the pavement below. He barely registers the action, moving on auto-pilot until his eyes land on Buck as they wheel him out of the back.

Buck.

Evan Buckley, silent and still: two things Eddie never would’ve associated with the man before now.

“Chim, I’ll take over.”

Eddie does his best to keep his voice even, pushing down the panic and desperation he feels throughout every square inch of his being. If he seems too emotional, or too unstable, they won’t let him close. Bobby made that much clear when he told Eddie to drive.

The time spent driving was enough to calm him, but now Eddie needs to be closer. He needs to help.

He needs to save Buck.

It’s different, somehow, with his hands on Buck’s chest. Everything feels that much more real, and Eddie isn’t sure if that’s good or bad just yet. Buck’s chest remains defiantly still, refusing to rise or fall.

Evan Buckley: stubborn, even in death.

No.

The thought chokes Eddie, cutting off his air, his own breathing tight and strained as he tries to pump life back into Buck’s heart and push air back into his lung. Eddie closes his eyes, willing the nearly deafening thrum of his own pulse into Buck through his hands, the press of palm to chest, praying---

“We got a pulse!”

Eddie could collapse right then and there with the relief those four simple words bring.

A pulse.

Life.

Not death.

Buck isn’t dead.

Eddie hadn’t realized how much he was subconsciously preparing himself for that possible reality - one where he had to explain to Christopher that Buck wouldn’t be coming over any more, one where he went with Bobby to break the news to Maddie and Buck’s parents who are in town to visit.

One where Eddie loses every chance he convinced himself he’d have in the future to be honest with Buck about his feelings.

But just when hope begins to flood through Eddie again he’s reminded of the severity of the situation by the words of those around him. Bobby tells the nurses about Buck’s medical history and allergies and the nurse promises them that they’re going to do their best. It’s the promise of someone who knows there are no guarantees, not when it comes to an injury like this.

Their best isn’t enough. It should be Eddie in there with them, following through the doors all firefighters know they have to stop and leave their patients at. Except this isn’t just another drop-off for them to walk away from.

This is Buck.

This is family.

“Do more!” Eddie shouts, feeling helpless and frustrated as he watches Buck disappear around a corner.

The silence that follows his broken yell is more deafening than anything Eddie’s ever heard.

#buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #9-1-1 #9-1-1 on fox #9-1-1 spoilers #911 spoilers #elle writes a few deadbeat lines #coda