#but jee refuses to KNOW

[ssreeder]

I literally just started reading the last chapter of ria but thta has been interrupted by how fucking funny it is that it only took sokka and zuko to be int hw same fucking room for jee to clock them. HELLO??? Not even a grain of "maybe the water tribe is touchy" NOTHING. He took ONE single looks and went — huh

Sokka: oh I'll avoid outing our relationship until zuko is fine, but i still need to see him for a bit. I'll make aure i keep my touch friendly :)

Jee: oh so zuko is gay

-Fragile heart

Hahaha he talks himself out of it in the next chapter because… well…. denial.

(I wonder if iroh suspects anything hahaha…..)

#jee KNOWS #but jee refuses to KNOW #because he refuses to believe #BELIEVE JEE #I also think the fact he thinks Sokka is CRAZY doesn’t help #but just wait #…. coherent Zuko in the same room with Sokka #*gestures around* #they are not subtle #no matter how hard Zuko tries to be subtle #Sokka is NOT subtle haha #(& did you mean ITF or RIA because you totally wrote RIA but idk why’d you’d be reading the last chapter of that haha #)) unless….??? #jk I’m not being witty just stupid #ok see you soon FHA!!! #fragile heart anon #ITF #liab #ask

[chiptrillino]

I'm imagining Zhao was Jee's neighbor growing up, and his frown lines are the result of him listening to him talk.

poor unfortunate soul jee

[ID: digital drawing of Zhao and Jee from avatar the last airbender de-aged to a young teen (maybe 13 years). Zhao on the left of the image is leaning forward shouting at jee "play Wonderwall". on the right of the image is jee clutching a sting instrument looking perplexed at the rude request. End ID.]

#atla #jee #zhao #this was one of these drawing where you just.... started and kept adding and adding #and whops?!?! #suddenly there is a BG #oh well just... leave it roughly shaded no colours call it a day #i want to add... i feel with jee! #i knew once how to play guitarr but everyone only requested to play wonderwall #maybe is should try to learn that song #maybe i should still keep refusing out of spite! #i know what you wonder! "why does zhao has a school uniform and jee not?' #well you see... #poor planing i am now morthing into... zhao is the insuferable rich kid and jee is... well not poor but not rich rich. #for some reason it was easyer to get zhao righ then jee.... #dang it zhao!

[sokkastyles]

When Jee says that he thought Zuko was in a training accident and Iroh says with such contempt, "it was no accident." Iroh knows exactly what his brother is.

Iroh then says that Ozai said that Zuko had shown shameful weakness by refusing to fight, and that was why he was banished as punishment. I think the fandom often forgets this part and lump the burning and banishment together as part of the same punishment, but they are separate punishments for separate offenses.

But, like Iroh says, it was no accident. Ozai never intended for Zuko to have a chance.

#zuko #iroh #ozai

[starlightshadowsworld]

Tw child abuse

I love the idea of Akutugawa just wholeheartedly trying to be better to Kyouka. And he's not exactly what sure what to do.

So Akutugawa asks (read: threatens) Atsushi into giving him advice.

Akutagawa: Jinko, now that I have your undivided attention.

Atsushi: There's easier ways to get my attention that don't involve stabbing me!

Akutagawa: scoffs Cease your grumbling, I have an issue and you will help me with it. Give me insufficient advice and I'll stab you again.

Atsushi: Uh huh because you wouldn't stab me anyway sighs Fine, what it is it?

Akutagawa: Kyouka. I was... Not the best mentor to her and I would like to be, not her mentor but a closer acquaintance.

Atsushi: I think the word you're looking for is friend.

Akutugawa:...I don't know how to be that. And you are surrounded by like minded morons that for some reason like you so.... What do I do?

Atsushi: Talk to her.

Akutagawa: Jinko.

Atsushi: I'm serious, if you want to be friends or something with her tell her. You really hurt her, that doesn't just go away. I can tell you anything but that means nothing if you guys don't talk.

Akutagawa: And if she denies my offer? If she refuses to see me at all?

Atsushi: You respect that and let her be. She doesn't owe you anything. You'll only hurt her if you ignore her feelings and try anyway.

Akutagawa: I suppose you're right, I won't stab you than.

Atsushi: Oh jee, thanks rips Rashomon put of his shoulder

Akutagawa: I really hurt her, didn't I?

Atsushi: Yeah, you did. You were hurt so you ended up hurting her just the same. Miss Yosano said its a cycle like that.

Akutagawa: I wasn't hurt.

Atsushi: Look me in the eye and say that.

Akutagawa: quietly How did you know?

Atsushi: Because so was I.

Akutagawa: Would you forgive the ones who hurt you?

Atsushi: I don't know...I'd just want to know why. Why me? My parents were good to everyone else. All the kids in the Orphanage were treated badly, but none as bad as me.

Akutagawa: It's a good question, though at least it made you stronger.

Atsushi: It didn't. It left me bleeding, broken and hurt. I'm strong because of me. Not because someone tried to beat it into me.

Akutagawa: You're rather wise sometimes.

Atsushi: I have my moments. Good luck with Kyouka.

Akutugawa: Thank you.

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd kyouka #bsd atsushi #atsushi nakajima #bsd akutagawa #akutagawa ryuunosuke #tw child abuse

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Halloween prompts no. 19

Danny is flung into a new dimension by Skulker and they continue to fight above a strange city. Danny makes sure to end it quickly after that in case he attracts the attention of yet another person or group of people who want to hurt him for whatever reason..

He flies into a nearby building only to discover a freaky mad scientists lab and finds a clone of someone named "Robin". The clone was appearently a baby that they were planning on brainwashing and raising in a cult like setting to kill the "Bats"

"Jee, is the rodent problem that bad?!" Either way he decides to kidnap the baby and destroy everything in a blaze of glory. No child soldiers on his watch. No siree! He then portals his way home.

What he did not count on was him immediately running into his parents in his ghost form with a very alive baby in his arms. They stared eachother down in uncharacteristic silence, one afraid that they would hurt the baby with thier reckless firing and the others staring slack jawed cause why does he have a baby?!

The whole of Amity Park is also asking this question. Many assume its his, despite his age because teenages parents do exist, plus phantom kept calling it "his" baby so...

Others are worried that he might have just taken a baby from a dangerous environment and decided to keep it not realizing how much work a baby is. (Spot on) Both theories raise questions about how ghosts view families and how they reproduce. Upon asking Phantom he turned bright green, made a witty one liner and bolted.

Frostbite calls Danny in to give a check up to both him and the baby and uses this time to get a DNA sample from the child, and with a bit of ghostly magic he tracks down the parents and contacts them by straight up ringing thier doorbell. He and Alfred get along immediately.

Eventually Frosty tricks Phantom into coming back to Gotham and reveals the babies paternity in front of the batfam and the bird in question (whichever one) is freaking out a bit, "I'm too young to be a father!" style and Dannys like, "Cool. Cause I have no intention of sharing! Byeeee!" Before vanishing. Frostbite wants a nap.

Cue batfam following Phantom back to his dimension via Frostbite only to discover various people in Amity Park have also grouped together armed with ghost hunting gear to capture Phantom and get the baby away from him. Yeah, they know the kid has good intentions but hes only 14 and its not good for him or the baby. So they're effectively acting like undead CPS.

About time.

Anyway, Danny realizes he can't revert to his living form because his ecto signature would still ping on the equipment as Phantom and thats not something he wants to explain right now. Or possibly ever. With that being said he refuses to abandon his child. Hes only had them for two weeks and they're already his whole world.

Sam keeps telling him this was stupid and even Tuckers concerned. "How will you take care of a baby, dude? You can't even balance your hero life with you real life" Okay, fair. Jazz then started talking to him about talking to the babys father to at least get some help raising them and Danny finally agreed. For the baby's sake.

Bruce is so relieved when he finally gets to see his grandchild safe and sound.

#dp x dc #fanfiction prompts #prompts #danny fenton #danny phantom #batman #robin #ghost cps #the civilians are better at catching ghosts than the actal ghost hunters #the bats are gonna go ham trying to catch Phantom amd the baby #idc which robin you choose #damian might actually acept it though #he might try to fight phantom for full custody and phantom is going to tell him hes lucky he gets to SEE the baby at all #danny has already named the baby #the batfam are not happy about this #they wanted to help pick a name #oooh what if its a steph clone??? #it would be a nice twist #halloween prompts

[renecdote]

ren please my love will u write me "wiping their tears when they cry" for buddie mwah

Also for @abcdefuk-off who requested the same prompt. This got so much longer than planned lol but enjoy the Buck angst <3

[Read on AO3]

Those first few days after waking up, and after leaving the hospital, everything hurts. Buck gets used to a baseline of pain: headaches, muscle aches, healing burns on his hands, fractured ribs, bruised lungs, something vague and unrelenting that coils tight in his stomach. It all ebbs and flows, a tide teetering between low and high, easy enough to ignore sometimes, but never fully gone.

It gets better, as days blur into weeks. One and then two and then three, and after four he’s sitting in Dr Salazar’s office and she’s saying, “You can go back to work as early as next week.”

Buck doesn’t know how to explain the flash of panic that seizes him. The way he wishes she could just tell him that something is wrong, that there is some physical explanation for the way he feels. But all his other doctors say the same thing: there’s nothing wrong with him. His lungs have healed enough for him to go back to work. His hands aren’t even going to scar. There are no blood clots in his leg, no reason it should be hurting at all, except for how it will probably always hurt sometimes.

“But it’s worse,” Buck tries. “It hurts more, and more often, doesn’t that—shouldn’t it mean something is wrong?”

“You’ve been through a trauma,” is all the doctor will say, shrugging behind ultrasound and CT results that all say the same thing: he’s fine.

So why doesn’t Buck feel fine?

Why can’t he just feel fine?

****

He gets through the first shift fine. He’s exhausted at the end of it, a headache knocking behind his temples, but it’s fine. He’s fine. He lets Eddie talk him into going home with him, manages to smile through breakfast with Christopher before crashing hard on the couch, and when he wakes up a few hours later, he’s fine.

The second shift, he doesn’t go home with Eddie. Doesn’t leave the station with a headache, either, which is nice, but he’s left with something restless and itching beneath his skin that makes him want to run until he has forgotten how to breathe.

He goes home instead. Deep cleans his apartment. Heats up frozen lasagne for lunch and eats sitting on the balcony, squinting at the grey edge of the sky and wondering if it’s going to rain.

Come over for dinner? 🥺 Chimney texts around four p.m., and Buck spends several minutes frowning at the message before he sends back a question mark. Chimney sends back a block of the same emoji in response and refuses to elaborate.

Fine, Buck replies. But just for the record I’m sick of eating pot roast.

He’s half expecting it anyway; Maddie isn’t a bad cook, but her repertoire is a bit limited, and Chimney’s even more so. When he arrives at six-thirty on the dot, he’s pleasantly surprised, and then a little suspicious, to find them setting out containers of Thai from one of Buck’s favourite takeout places.

“This isn’t another intervention, is it?” he asks, and he tries to make it sound like a joke, but he’s pretty sure he doesn’t succeed.

“Should it be?” Maddie asks, eyebrows raised.

“No,” Buck answers, matching her raised eyebrows with his own narrowed eyes. “I thought we agreed you couldn’t fix me.”

Chimney fumbles a grease-stained paper bag and two spring rolls make a bid for freedom, rolling across the counter. He snatches them quickly, muttering hot hot hot under his breath as he drops them onto a plate. He doesn’t say, “ah, so there is something that needs fixing,” but he may as well have. Buck steals a spring roll and bites down on it hard, chewing and swallowing even as his eyes water at the burn of too-hot pastry and filling.

Maddie rolls her eyes. “Sometimes dinner is just dinner, Evan. Why don’t you help Chimney set the table? I’m going to get Jee washed up to eat.”

Just dinner would be sitting in his apartment alone with whatever leftovers he dug out of the freezer, but Buck doesn’t argue. He takes the handful of cutlery Chimney offers him and sets it out on the table, Maddie and Chimney side-by-side, Buck opposite them both, plastic cutlery arranged carefully on Jee’s high chair at the head of the table. It’s hard to feel anything but warm inside when handling toddler cutlery, which was probably Maddie’s goal all along.  

It spreads through him while they eat: warmth soaking into aching muscles, loosening the tension in his spine, helping him breathe a little bit easier. They don’t ask him if he’s okay and at some point he stops expecting them to. It’s like the moment after a jump scare in a movie, when all the tension that has been building snaps, the door pushed open to reveal a cat or a squawking bird where you expected to find a killer, adrenaline draining away to leave you loose and giggly. Buck stretches out his legs under the table and he can almost trick himself into believing that the twinge of pain is just in his head.  

After dinner is over—plates and cutlery packed into the dishwasher, leftover Thai in the fridge—he helps Maddie give Jee a bath and put her to bed. It’s good. Normal. From the moment the tap turns on until Jee’s bedroom light is turned off, he feels like he can breathe. Like he might be okay.

Which. That was probably Maddie’s goal all along.  

“You can stay,” Chimney offers when they’re back out in the kitchen. “The guest room has a proper bed and everything now.”

Buck smiles, appreciating the offer. “Nah, I should get home. Thanks though. For dinner and…”

A gesture, vague and all-encompassing. Chimney shrugs it away.

“Anytime,” he says, and Buck knows he means it. He could show up here at three in the morning and he wouldn’t be turned away. “See you at work tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Buck agrees. “See you at work.”

Maddie follows him to the door and hugs him tightly before he steps outside.  

“Drive safe,” she says against his shoulder, words cast like a spell. “Text me when you get home.”

It’s the kind of thing she has said to Buck all his life. He used to roll his eyes good naturedly, grumble through a yeah, okay , and he’d still speed through yellow lights but he’d always feel a little more guilty about it with Maddie’s words in the back of his mind.  

Tonight he just squeezes her again and promises, “I will.”

He slows down for every yellow light on the way home.

****

It’s not so bad at first: a dull ache, deep enough in his leg that he can almost ignore it. He’s getting pretty good at that, with the way it feels like the pain is always there these days, lurking, waiting to pounce. Buck avoids looking at it head-on for as long as he can, like it’s a monster in the dark that he can keep away by pulling a blanket over his head.

So it doesn’t sneak up on him, really, but it still takes his breath away when the pain corkscrews through his leg, suddenly sharp and biting. Buck stumbles, catching himself on the engine, choking back a curse that becomes a strangled wheeze. His first thought— fuck, ow ow ow —is followed quickly by a second: thank god everyone else is already in the engine .

“Buck?” Bobby calls, head sticking out through the front window. “You coming?”

Buck gives him a thumbs up, words trapped behind tightly clenched teeth. Climbing into the engine is hell, his leg pulsing with every step up, and he curls his hands into fists to hide the way they’re shaking after this seatbelt has been clipped into place. It was a long call, the kind that leaves everyone tired and not in the mood to talk, and Buck is absurdly grateful for it because it means nobody is paying too much attention to him. Nobody sees the wince he can’t hide when the truck jolts over a pothole, or the way he has to brace himself before jumping out when they’re back at the station.

There’s a bottle of Tylenol that lives in his work bag and he goes straight for it after he gets his turnout gear off. Everyone else has already drifted towards the bunks, but Buck tries not to limp as he walks up the stairs anyway. It feels too much like giving in. Like letting his leg and that bomber kid and the whole fucking universe win.

He tries to pace, tries to shake the cramp out by moving, but every step is like a knife through his ankle, his knee, shooting up through his hip to grip his chest in a vice as well. Buck makes it three limping circuits around the loft before he gives up and collapses on the couch. He folds over, head against his right knee, left leg stretched out while he digs his fingers into the long-healed muscles and wishes the pain would go away.

A stress headache is setting in now too, the kind that feels like his head is in a vice, the pain squeezing and squeezing and squeezing. Buck takes a shaky breath, then another, then another, trying to figure out whether he feels sick, or if it’s just the same coiling tension in his stomach that he’s been dealing with for weeks.

“Hey.”  

He flinches, startled, and Eddie moves closer with a frown.

“Buck? You okay?” he asks, sounding like he’s already halfway convinced that he answer is no . Which it is, but.

Buck swallows. “Yeah, just—my leg. ‘M okay.”

Eddie hums, an I’ll be the judge of that kind of sound, and he perches on the edge of the coffee table, so close that their legs have no choice but to touch. “Can I…?”

There’s a half-hysterical thought in the back of Buck’s head that his leg will fall apart if he lets it go. The pain will tear through flesh and bones and leave nothing but broken, jagged pieces behind. Blood and sinew and useless muscle hanging off splintered pieces of bone. The thought of it makes him sick and he has to swallow hard against the nausea before he can make his fingers loosen their hold. It gets him a smile, quick and gentle, like Eddie knows the mental battle it took.  

“Okay,” he says, easy and soft. “Do you want to lie down?”

Buck shakes his head. Even if he’s lying on his back, even if it’s the couch in the station instead of the rough asphalt of the street, his edges are too frayed right now for it to feel like anything other than being back there under the truck. He stretches his leg out in front of him instead, hands curled into tight fists while Eddie does his exam, quick but thorough.

“I don’t see anything concerning,” he judges, and Buck shouldn’t mourn the touch of his hands but he does. “No redness or swelling… is it just the pain?”

“Yeah,” Buck manages, too shaky. He doesn’t need to explain because Eddie knows more than most what it’s like when an injury heals but doesn’t ever fully let you go.  

“Alright.” Hand on his knee for a second, two seconds, warmth lingering even after it’s gone. “Heat or ice?”

Buck shakes his head because—he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know if anything will help.

“Okay,” Eddie takes his non-answer in stride, “we’ll try heat first, then switch if it isn’t working.”

It doesn’t take long to grab a couple of heating pads from the first aid cupboard, nor to pull the coffee table a bit closer so Buck can put his feet up on it without having to stretch. Hen would smack him if she saw him doing it, but he’s pretty sure Eddie would defend him. His only other option is stretching out on the couch and—no. Not tonight.  

“Here, drink this,” holding out a glass until Buck takes it.  “It’ll help.”

It’s only half full, which is good because Buck’s hands shake when he holds it. He still feels vaguely sick, but he chokes down a few sips anyway, clinging to the way Eddie smiles at him when he does.

“Better?” he checks, adjusting one of the heating pads that had started to slip off Buck’s knee.  

Buck wants to say yes. He wants to say yeah, all good now, thanks for your help but you don’t need to stay . He wants to rewind time and never get in the front seat of the truck. He wants to rewind time and wait just a few minutes before climbing up that ladder so the lightning doesn’t hit him. He wants and wants and wants. He’s spent his whole life wanting—his parents to love him, somewhere to belong, to be useful and good and happy —and even now that he has so much, he still fucking wants.  

Buck bites his lip through the sting of frustrated tears, determined not to cry.

“It’s been, um, worse. Lately. Since the lightning strike.”

Eddie frowns. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Buck shrugs, as if he doesn’t know the answer. As if the words aren’t right there on the tip of his tongue: I didn’t want anyone to worry .

“No,” Eddie says, gentle and a little bit—sad, almost, but trying not to be. It’s like he can read the words spinning through Buck’s mind. “Why didn’t you say anything to me?”

Because Eddie isn’t anyone . He hasn’t been for a long time. Buck rubs a hand over his face, then picks at a loose thread on his knee, avoiding Eddie’s eyes.

“Are you going to tell Bobby?” he asks.

“You don’t want me to,” Eddie says, not a question. Buck shakes his head anyway. “Because you don’t want him to worry? Or because you don’t want to be benched for the rest of shift?”

The simple answer is both . That’s the answer Buck is supposed to give. It’s what Eddie is expecting to hear. But the truth is that Buck died, and nobody will let him forget it, and he still doesn’t know how he really feels about it.

That coil in his stomach tightens, dread clogging his veins. A traitorous, frustrated tear slips out and Buck squeezes his eyes shut. He makes a belated movement to wipe it away, but Eddie’s hand is already there, the curl of his fingers warm under Buck’s chin and his thumb warmer still as it swipes gently across his cheek. It’s that, Buck thinks, more than the pain and the frustration, that makes the next two tears slip out.

“I won’t tell Bobby,” Eddie promises him, the absence of his touch burning like frostbite when he pulls his hands away. “But I’m going on record saying that I think you should.”

“I can still do my job,” Buck mutters, sinking into his corner of the couch. It’s the easiest excuse to hide behind. It’s even mostly true: he can do his job, even if adrenaline and determination are the only things that get him through.

Eddie rolls his eyes. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

Buck wilts. He does know. And he doesn’t want to argue with Eddie. It’s always so much easier to be angry, to burn hot and fast and deal with the fallout later, but whenever he reaches for the flames these days, whenever he thinks it’s not fucking fair , all he feels is tired. Bone deep, achingly tired.

You’ve been through a trauma , people keep telling him, but Buck has been through traumas before and they’ve never left him feeling quite like this.

“Fine,” he sighs. “I’ll tell Bobby if it becomes a problem.”  

If it comes down to other people’s lives, he would have done it anyway. He’s not stupid; he’s not going to risk anyone else.

Eddie nods, satisfied. He takes the glass of water from Buck’s hands and sets it on the coffee table, out of the way, then settles into the couch at his side. There’s enough space that they don’t need to be touching, but they end up pressed together from thigh to shoulder anyway.  

“Do you think you can sleep?” Eddie asks.

Buck shrugs, but he’s pretty sure the answer is no. He’s pretty sure that Eddie knows it too.

“Alright,” he says, reaching for the remote. “But it’s my turn to pick what we watch.”

It’s not, but Buck doesn’t fight him on it. He doesn’t care what they watch, doesn’t think he could focus on it right now anyway. He closes his eyes, letting the sound of some late-night soap rerun fade into background noise, and waits for the pain to fade with it.

****

Buck doesn’t sleep, but he drifts, sinking down to something close enough to sleep that it can almost be called rest. His leg doesn’t hurt as much anymore, the weight of the heating pads over his knee and ankle as much of a relief as the heat itself. He’s not sure what time it is when footsteps on the stairs make him tense, threatening to undo all the hard work that Eddie and the heating pad have done to relax his muscles. The only thing that keeps him still is the hand Eddie puts on his thigh, warm and grounding. He squeezes gently— relax, you’re okay, I’ve got you —then stands up, meeting Bobby in the kitchen with an easy, “Hey, Cap, you want some coffee?”

Buck relaxes, listening to the familiar sound of people moving around the station kitchen: mugs clinking, the coffee machine gurgling, the slightest squeak of boots on the floor as Bobby and Eddie move around each other. It’s so familiar and soothing that he’s almost back in that state of not-quite-resting, drifting through the currents at the edge of the room, when he hears Bobby ask, “He okay?”

It’s right there in his voice: worry worry worry . Buck bites the inside of his cheek hard enough that he tastes blood, sudden and metallic. It stops his heart in his chest for a beat, two beats, and he has to breathe carefully through the swell of memory and nausea until the taste of blood and bile have both been swallowed down.

“Yeah,” Eddie is answering behind him, and that helps too, “just a leg cramp, he’s okay.”  

Buck doesn’t get to find out what Bobby’s response to that is—the alarm rings and he’s on his feet before it’s a conscious thought. Before he stops, one hand on the bannister going down the stairs, and wonders whether he should actually stay behind. Whether Bobby will make him stay behind.

He hesitates too long. Long enough that everyone else is already climbing into the truck and Bobby is looking back at him from the app bay, eyebrows raised.

“You coming, kid?”

Buck shakes himself and follows. He can still do his job.

****

The fire burns hot and fast, two townhouses already alight when they join the 122 on scene, a third just starting to go up as well.

“Shit,” Chimney mutters, and Buck feels it in his bones: people are going to die tonight. People are probably already dead, just waiting for someone to pull their bodies out.

“Buck—” Eddie starts, low and close, fingers twisted in his sleeve, and Buck doesn’t know what he’s going to say but—

“Not now,” he says, shaking Eddie off.

Eddie lets him go.

Buck tells himself that he’s grateful for it, even as his leg throbs in protest. He’s fine, he reminds himself. He’s fine, he can still do his job.

And he does. He lets the smoke and the flames numb him, sinking into the routine: check room after room after room, pull out body after body after body. Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it. Don’t think.

He’s limping by the time they clear the buildings. The pain isn’t as bad as it was before, but it’s deep and persistent, the kind of always there pain he got used to feeling in the weeks after the ladder truck crushed him. Buck sees a life stretching out before him where it never goes away: he’ll wake up hurting every morning, go to sleep hurting every night, probably have to quit his job because he’s always, always hurting.

He feels sick. Thinks he might actually be sick, stuck on a roller coaster he doesn’t know how to get off, and he leans shakily against the engine, pressing his forehead against the cool metal while he tries to breathe the feeling away.

Bobby finds him there.

Of course Bobby finds him there.

“Here,” he says, and his hand is a steady pressure between Buck’s shoulder blades until he turns his head, blinking past the red of the engine to find a water bottle being held out. Bobby shakes it a little when Buck doesn’t immediately reach to take it. “Come on, Buck, you know the drill.”

Buck wonders which drill that is. The stay hydrated when fighting fires one, or the don’t disobey orders one, or maybe the let people take care of you one. It doesn’t really matter, he supposes, the answer is all the same. He grabs the water bottle from Bobby’s hand. Fumbles it open and takes a few sips.  

“Sit,” Bobby suggests, hand still on Buck’s back, gently guiding him the few limping steps until he can sit on the front of the engine. The scene is still bustling around them, firefighters moving like moths around the flames, but Bobby seems content just to stand beside Buck, watching silently.

Buck lasts five minutes before he breaks.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?” he asks, exhausted down his marrow.

“About your leg?” Bobby doesn’t pretend not to know what he’s talking about and Buck is grateful for it. “I figured you’d come to me if something needed saying.”

Buck swallows.  

Swallows again.

He’s pretty sure they’ve reached the point where something needs saying, but he has no idea where to start. I’m sorry , maybe. I swear the doctor cleared me , probably. The words all feel frothy on his tongue, taking up more room than they should, and he opens his mouth without really knowing which ones he’s going to say and—  

“I’m scared.”  

It’s a whisper. A confession meant for the dark safety of night, spilled out here in the burning daylight of a new day like oil on the road. The sun glints off it like a beacon: here! look, beware, there is danger here! Buck wants to scoop the words back up, shove them deep inside his chest, lock them up where he’s the only one who might choke on them. He wants to find a smile, or a joke, anything that he can tape over the moment to wipe the look of quiet concern off Bobby’s face. He wants to pretend that he’s fine because maybe if he pretends hard enough it will become true.

“I don’t even know why I’m scared,” he finds himself confessing anyway. “I don’t know why my leg hurts, or how to make it stop, or—”

or if I’ll ever feel normal again

There’s a flash of memory—Eddie crying at the dining table, Eddie’s room destroyed, Eddie’s door locked, Eddie dying in the street—so sudden and visceral that Buck flinches away from it. His breath stutters, and his leg throbs sharply, and it’s all so much that he almost flinches when Bobby puts a hand on his shoulder as well.

“I’m not going to pretend that I have all the answers,” Bobby says, as warm and steady as his hand. His lips twist into something wry for a second as he adds, “Or any of them.” Buck doesn’t smile, even though he thinks he’s supposed to. “But I’m always here if you want to talk, or even if you don’t.”

Bobby breakfasts . It’s not a secret at the firehouse, but it’s always talked about in low tones, the same way you’d whisper about something sacred. They’ve all had one at some point: a quiet invitation at the end of a hard shift, “we don’t have to talk if you don’t want to,” then the comforting bustle of a café with good coffee and eggs cooked any way you want them. Buck remembers sitting in that café three days after Eddie got shot, the taste of blood still in his mouth and his stomach too messed up to even think about eating, sipping camomile tea while Bobby ate a bagel and did the crossword in an honest to god newspaper beside him.

He remembers wondering where the newspaper even came from. Remembers the flash of fear at the realisation that he’d lost time somewhere between the firehouse and the café. Remembers his hands shaking around his teacup, china rattling as he set it back in the saucer, and Bobby’s knees bumping against his even though the table was big enough that they shouldn’t have.

He remembers that it helped, even if he didn’t really know it at the time.

“Captain Nash!” someone calls, and it’s like a bucket of ice water over Buck’s head.  

Bobby glances behind him, towards the IC who called his name, then back at Buck, his reluctance clear on his face.

“Go,” Buck tells him, hugging himself. “I’m okay.”

Bobby still hesitates, long enough that the IC calls his name again, and Buck tries for a smile that is probably more like a grimace by the time it reaches his lips. It gets Bobby moving though. Gets him to nod, once, and squeeze Buck’s shoulder again before he turns with a parting, “I’ll send Eddie over.”

Buck opens his mouth, halfway to a protest, but Bobby is already striding away. He should be annoyed, he thinks; he doesn’t need a babysitter. But instead he’s just kind of grateful as he sinks back against the engine, knowing he won’t be alone for long.

****

The shift is over by the time they get back to the station, but Buck still finds Bobby in his office. The door is open, but he knocks anyway, leaning heavily against the doorframe because he thinks his leg might collapse under him if he has to take one more step.

“I can’t,” he says, when Bobby looks up at him. “Talk about it. Not yet.”

Not with Bobby, at least. Not until he can find a way to say I’m not okay without also saying you died, you know? in my coma dream, you died because I wasn’t there to help save you, and I don’t know what to do with that because sometimes I feel like I can save everyone except myself .

“Okay,” Bobby says easily. “Would you like to have breakfast anyway? We don’t have to talk.”  

Buck smiles, tired but real. “I appreciate the offer, Cap, but—maybe a rain check?”  

Bobby’s face is a silent ah . “You’re going home with Eddie.”  

It’s not a question. Buck nods anyway. If he turned his head just slightly, he’d be able to see Eddie hovering by the engine, both their bags slung over his shoulder, waiting for Buck to be ready to go. Waiting to jump in if he’s needed too, knowing Eddie.

“Good,” Bobby smiles, and Buck knows it means he’ll take care of you . “If you need anything, let me know.”

“I will.”

Bobby nods, satisfied, then looks back down at his paperwork. “I’ll see you next shift, Buck.”

Buck bites the inside of his cheek so he doesn’t do something embarrassing like burst into tears. He has to breathe through the sudden lump in his throat a couple of times before he can say, “Thanks, Cap. See you next shift.”

He turns carefully, weight balanced on his good leg, and limps out towards the parking lot. It only takes a few seconds for Eddie to fall into step beside him, their shoulders bumping gently.  

“Okay?” he checks, brown eyes warm and serious on Buck’s face.  

Buck smiles; still tired, still pained, but still real.

“Yeah,” he answers. “All good.”

And it’s not really. Not fully. But—

“It will be,” Eddie agrees, smiling back.

It will be .  

Yeah.

Yeah, Buck thinks, he’s gonna be okay. His family will make sure of it.

#Evan Buckley #Eddie Diaz #Maddie Buckley #Chimney Han #Bobby Nash #911 Fox #fic #post lightning buck is something that can be so personal

[hollersparrow]

just some 9-1-1 headcanons/plot bunnies

so i've kinda gone on a 9-1-1 deep dive that started out casual and rapidly turned into an obsession. a few things to note, i definitely think that buck and eddie have something (whether it's romantic or queerplatonic is up for grabs but there's something beyond friendship there and no one can convince me otherwise) and i am a strong subscriber to any tropes that strongly encourage found family/families so...make of that what you will

anyway, after binging all of the available episodes, i have several headcanons that i want to put out there (for some reason a lot of them are from season 5???)

ana realizing that there's more to eddie and buck's relationship than it seems in that scene from s5e2 when she brings christopher to the station. buck clocks that eddie has started panicking immediately and ana just like. *looks* at him for a few seconds in a way that just makes me think that this woman clocked that they have a deeper than normal connection to one another. that or she's heard about buck but obviously has never seen eddie and buck interact and is suddenly realizing exactly what people keep trying to tell her about

a buck/eddie-focused exploration of the aftermath of 'brawl in cell block 9-1-1'. buck freaking out once mitchell's been carted off to get his heart taken out and refusing to let eddie go anywhere while checking him for injuries, eddie having some uncomfortable realizations about just how affected buck was by the whole experience. personally, i feel that would lead to them actually talking about the sniper and all the mess that goes with it

lots of potential for temporary angst with eddie having a lot of big feelings about having failed as a husband in his marriage to shannon and not wanting to get married again b/c of it (thinks he doesn't deserve another shot at it? thinks there's something fundamentally wrong with him to where he can't? don't know how this would manifest exactly). personally, i see this eventually leading to him and buck realizing that they're more or less functionally married and they may as well reap some tax benefits from it but you can do whatever you want with that

buck goes to the funerals of many of the people who die on calls that he's a part of. it's mostly people that he directly worked on and he doesn't tend to tell anyone that he's a first responder that was involved (b/c of how devon's sister reacted in s1) but he does go to them.

kinda of tied to the headcanon above this but! buck getting adopted by a bunch of older queer folk following the deaths of mitchell and thomas in s2. he goes to the joint funeral that was planned for the two of them, in part b/c he wants/needs to and in part bc he accidentally took a few photos from the scrapbook from the scene (he shoved them in his pocket on instinct when thomas collapses). anyway, he shows up and the older queer community has rallied to show up at the funeral and they recognize him as someone who needs more found family and just adopt him into their ranks. i could see the 118 finding out about this soon after it happens or not until years later; maybe karen and hen finding out sooner than everyone else but buck asks them to keep it quiet?

s5e14 where jee-yun gets sick? what if it actually WAS leukemia and she somehow ends up needing some sort of donation (plasma? bone marrow? idk really anything about how cancer is treated). jee's put on a list and they start testing family members, none of whom work out until...buck. cue maddie not wanting to ask that of buck b/c of all the baggage that comes with daniel and the buckley parents are absolute assholes about it (along the lines of completely disregarding buck's autonomy as a human being in the face of their precious granddaughter being in trouble), maybe a chimney that isn't trying to be pushy about it but also just...can't help pushing a bit, a buck that so overwhelmed with everything that he's feeling that he goes off the rails a bit. obviously everything works out and buck donates or whatever needs to happen and jee-yun is completely fine b/c i don't actually want it to end badly

the entire 'buck's a sperm donor' family argument and maraget saying "you're a miracle baby yourself" made my fucking blood boil and i want to see a better exploration of the fallout of that statement b/c you just know that there was more to it than it just getting brushed off

buck telling maddie that he has a checklist that he goes through every time he wakes up post-coma in s6e12. chris and eddie being part of that list, where buck is just constantly checking up on them to make sure that they're still in LA (part of the reason why it's so easy for him to fall asleep/relax on the diaz couch or in their house in general). eddie doesn't notice the uptick in check-ins b/c he's too busy figuring out the least intrusive ways for him to check in on buck at all times b/c he NEEDS to know that buck is alive/breathing. once eddie notices though, he confronts buck about it

maddie asking buck to be her maid of honor for her wedding since hen is obviously going to have best man privileges. mostly just exploring the ridiculous that this brings up and everyone joking about buck in a dress (up to you whether he actually wears one to the wedding or not), but i have to include a side note that the buckley parents are dicks about it and have no sense of humour/fun

literally anything featuring athena being worried about buck as a maternal figure, i was so disappointed by her lack of interaction when buck was struck by lightning and, while i'm so fucking happy to have may acknowledging that buck is bobby's son too, we missed out on athena being devastated by the situation as well

there will probably be more of these to come at some point knowing myself.

#9 1 1 #evan buckley #eddie diaz #9-1-1 cast #buddie #headcanon #plot bunny #angst with a happy ending #fic idea #the buckley parents suck #buckley siblings #bobby nash #athena grant #hen wilson #chimney han #these will not leave my head so i'm sharing them #i don't know how to tag #send help bc i've become obsessed with a show/fandom again

[gaylittleeddie]

tim minear I know we asked you to stop but you were right.

hurt him again. I need you to right your wrongs for not having him get hit by that car. I need Buck to be so hurt that he ends up in a coma. I need a dreamworld where Buck never left college and didn’t become a firefighter. I need him to have a family and the life that he thinks he wants in this dream world only for him to wake up eventually and realize he had everything he needs. I need the other characters to be a wreck. I need to see Eddie Diaz break. I need to see Maddie by his bedside telling him about her day and Jee and refusing to leave until Chim makes her. I need angry Bobby. I need Hen using her doctor knowledge in an attempt to save him and come up with theories. I need to hear Chris cry and scream and yell about how Buck promised he wouldn’t leave. Please this is all I ask.

#Tim be evil again #i need to be so evil #stop this redemption arc immediately I need you to DEGRESS #tv: 911 #911 on fox #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911 fox #9-1-1 #buddie #911onfox #chimney han #bobby nash #maddie buckley #hen wilson #athena grant #henrietta wilson #im addicted to this show

[soopsiedaisies]

suffering will be your teacher

I don't think it's too late to share this one :)

Rating: E, for violence

Tags: Time Travel; Scarless Zuko; Zuko & Zuko's Crew; Jee has only had Zuko for a day and a half but if anything happened to him he would kill everyone on this ship and then himself

Summary: Zuko falls asleep on the evening of his official coronation, when he’s twenty-one-years old and has finally reached his majority. Zuko wakes on the morning of the Agni Kai with his father, eight years earlier. This is annoying for several reasons, like the fact that the War is still ongoing, that he has zero friends, and that Ozai is not in jail. It’s time to scheme.

Also, here are some ficnotes under the cut, if you're interested in some of my reasoning in regards to how the Agni Kai went in this universe. It's a bit spoilery but not if you've read chapter 1:

I’ve received a small handful of comments being shocked and/or delighted by Zuko deciding to burn Ozai the way Ozai burnt him: hand over the face like wiping away a tear, and then just going to town with their natural flamethrower ability. Whether this would be seen as in character or not, I wrote it in because I think it’d be in character, and I suppose that’s a rather important bit of writing lol. 

You can probably interpret it as Zuko perpetuating his family’s violence, or suddenly being okay with being goaded into a fight. But here’s the thing: he’s not okay with it. I’ve tried to hint at Zuko being disgusted with himself post-burning, yet simultaneously satisfied—because, hey, he’s back to fight-or-flight mode. He’s gone from the relative comfort of a palace filled with people he’d show his soft underbelly to, to the metaphorical viper’s den that was the palace when Ozai still ruled. Despite it having been a few years for him, Zuko still knows that it’s dangerous to be there, and that he cannot, under any circumstance, show aspects of his natural personality that may be deemed as weak. He’s the Prince and kindness, or mercy, will be punished. And he also doesn’t want to be burnt again—he’s not going to take that challenge lying down. 

So Zuko takes a risk. He fights back and uses his own experience to get his father to his knees. He burns Ozai before Ozai can burn him, despite the detail that harming the Fire Lord is probably illegal. And yes, like Azula told him, a simple burn on the shoulder would’ve been enough… but with someone as dangerous as Ozai, it’s better to incapacitate him. Ozai clearly doesn’t care about fighting fair and nobody would’ve stopped him either: in the show, Zuko went on his knees, refused to fight, and begged for mercy, but Ozai burnt him anyway without any sort of protest from anyone there. Zuko was in an inescapable and incredibly violent situation where the only way out was violence from his side. It’s an easy choice at that point, I think. 

Additionally, it’s also a revenge fantasy come true. I do believe that during the confrontation between Zuko and Ozai in Day Of The Black Sun, Zuko would’ve considered killing his father for a moment—or at least harming him. He doesn’t because it’s Aang’s responsibility to do so, and because killing your dad at age 16 after a lifetime of loyalty is kind of…. hard, but I’m certain there was a brief moment he thought about it. And burning your father instead, in the exact way he burnt you in another life, with him on his knees instead of you? Possibly a little bit satisfying. Zuko was granted a chance and took it. 

So, he’s scarless (if you have trouble imagining it: think of his face in the flashback of The Storm, plus his Fire Lordly face in his fever dream in The Earth King). I can hear people go like, “But Soopsie, that’s not our Zuko! The scar is a very important part of his character!”, and that is very fair. But keep in mind that he’s a 21 year old man who only occupies the body of his thirteen year old self, and he’s actually older than the Zuko of the show. I also think it’s not the scar which makes Zuko Zuko, but rather the mental/emotional scarring that lies underneath. Ozai still very much burnt him. There’s just not any physical proof right now. 

(I also don’t need to do any physical character design for this, which is a plus. He’s a lot less recognisable rn)

#putting it under this blog because my atla blog is mainly ZK meta and posts and this is a gen fic lmao #zuko atla #jee atla #zuko's crew #atla fanfiction #ozai #suffering will be your teacher #atla fic

[shitouttabuck]

Bobby really was going through it in 6x11. Because you’re telling me that your sponsor mysteriously dies on a rehab property, his death isn’t being investigated, your wife and stepdaughter offer up their help to infiltrate. Then! Your second son dies and then ends up in the hospital in a coma in a way that brings back all the memories of how he’s been hurt in the past. They have to cut open a part of his neck for the ECMO to work (tracheotomy on date); he dies thanks to the help of municipal equipment (we all know this one); he has to go on ECMO because now his heart and his lungs are struggling, which means in order for the machine to work, he has to be given blood thinners; the catastrophe happened around water; and then the ECMO needs to be closely monitored because if a tiny thing goes wrong, it can cause bleeding. Like, no wonder this man was refusing to eat or pace himself. Also, I firmly believe that when Buck was first coming to, Bobby and then pictures of the real world with Jee-Yun and everyone, were required to keep Buck from freaking out and overtaxing himself as he gradually gained strength back and able to stay awake longer.

me reading the parallels you’ve drawn with buck’s constant brushes with death jesus fuck

#PUT THEM ALL BACK IN THERAPY! SEPARATELY! TOGETHER! #i hope bobby is so relaxed sipping mai tais on a cruise ship rn #ask

[chiptrillino]

Devastated to learn that Caldera, Agni, Wani and quite possibly Akhult are NOT canonical names.

Screaming, crying, throwing up.

They are canon TO ME!

/hj

this is the fandom. we selectively care about the canon anyway.

#chip!ask #its okay anon #its canon to me in my heart too -pat pat- #you know what... canon jee is most likley dead #but i refuse to accept that... #also hakoda and bato arn't canon either. #piandao canon backstory is badass though

[sokkastyles]

ATLA LA Ep 6 Thoughts:

I feel like Iroh is more defensive of Zuko than he should be. In the original, Iroh does explain Zuko's side to Jee, but I don't like the implication that Zuko understands sacrifice MORE. OG Iroh never felt like he was justifying Zuko's actions.

I do like the parallel with Zuko disrespecting a superior officer, which is got him banished in the first place, and Zuko disrespecting Zhao, while Zhao uses his past as a earning, and Zuko bullying his crew in the same way he was/is bullied. All because he thought war would be honorable.

Liked the fire sages and Roku but Aang going there to ask Roku for help in saving Katara and Sokka feels strange when he's supposed to be talking to Roku about the actual plot.

Aang: you can't always have been like this. *cue flashback*

BLUE SPIRIT BLUE SPIRIT

I can totally believe Zuko keeps exhaustive notes on everything Avatar related, but of course he never wrote about what happened to him.

The problem with Aang and Zuko having a prolonged conversation here is that it saps the tension out of their relationship.

"Compassion is a sign of weakness" / "I didn't mean to hurt you." The ways we hurt people when we've been hurt.

People talk too much in this show about what they're doing / going to do.

I get the feeling they were trying to make Iroh seem more proactive here, but it kinda has the opposite effect because instead of being paralyzed by shock/horror/guilt, he just like, makes one protest and then steps aside on cue.

"He's your son." "We'll see." It's a test.

It's a test but it's still not one Zuko can pass. Ozai accuses Zuko of holding back but the literal moment Zuko matches his ruthlessness, Ozai gets his excuse to hurt him.

And listen, I've seen some discourse about Zuko fighting back. But one, Zuko is not a skinny little kid here. I do wish they had cast a child actor but at the same time, Liu is so good that I can forgive that. So we have to accept a Zuko who is a little older and does not look as visibly like a child. Two, it doesn't matter whether Zuko fought back, nothing Ozai does to him is justified, but Ozai was absolutely looking for an excuse. The only thing that changes here is the excuse itself. The end result is the same, that Ozai deliberately hurt his son.

Azula's look of fascination is pretty perfect.

Aang's actor is good here. This is the scene between Aang and Zuko in the OG. Not sure why it was necessary for Zuko and Aang to have that talk before if they were also going to keep this scene. Again, this show has a problem with the pacing because characters keep stopping to give unnecessary exposition. I know we all want more Aang and Zuko but it doesn't quite work.

I still don't think Ozai's justification works.

The idea of Zuko's crew being the 41st is compelling. The idea that Ozai punished Zuko for having compassion by making him responsible for the people he refused to dehumanize, perhaps in the hope that he would eventually come to hate them. And it seemed like it was on its way to working. What I hate is the way the show frames things here by making it seem like it's the crew's responsibility to understand Zuko, and then suddenly they all worship him. The original showed us that Zuko still had compassion, and that was what earned the crew's respect, more than Iroh's story. It's also weird to have this happen after Zhao commandeers the crew, because Jee was right, that he, especially, knows the penalty for not following orders, and knowing Zuko's story only emphasizes how little autonomy the 41st actually have when up against someone like Zhao.

#atla live action

[ailelie]

Eddie's Will

Revised lightly and on AO3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55176097

Eddie's relationship with Marisol is getting serious again. She's even moved in and this time they both feel excited and confident in the decision. She isn't Shannon and the relationship isn't quite like what he'd had with Shannon, but Eddie has realized that he cannot keep comparing his relationships to Shannon. Things with Marisol are good. They can be good enough.

But then Chimney and Maddie are in a car accident and, when they're both out of surgery and okay, Buck gently hugs his sister and says he is so glad they're both okay. He says he isn't ready to be a single dad.

And it reminds Eddie of his will. The will he has not changed since adding Buck to it. If anything happens to him, Christopher goes to Buck.

His heart begins to beat a loud question: What about Marisol?

He should change his will, right? His son should go to his partner, right?

But every time Eddie thinks to call his lawyer, he distracts himself. He'll call after the dishes are clean, after this shift is over, after Marisol goes to work. Later. He'll call later.

But he never does and the question never stops echoing.

And then it is 2am at the fire station and he cannot sleep. He's upstairs, at the table, staring down at his hands. He needs to make this phone call. He has no idea why he can't.

Chimney is the one who finds him.

"Practicing waiting up for Chris?" Chimney asks, yawning through the joke.

"Couldn't sleep. Why are you up?"

Chimney slumps into the chair opposite of him. "Jee's been having nightmares for the past week or so. Every night, between 2 and 3 she wakes up screaming. So now I'm waking up even without a distraught toddler."

Eddie frowned. "The car accident?"

"We think so. She saw it on TV. We've talked with a therapist, but Jee's still having a hard time. So why are you up?"

"I need to change my will," Eddie says, too tired to come up another reason. Chimney is the worst person to confide in, but he already suspects what Bobby will say and the idea of talking with Hen makes his stomach curl inward. Hen is too perceptive; Eddie doesn't really want to be seen.

"Why?" Chimney asks.

Eddie explains his current arrangements for Chris and asks, "But it should be Marisol now, right?"

Chimney gives him a long look and then holds out both of his hands palms up. "This--" he says, raising his right hand, "is Buck. And this is Marisol." He raises the left. "Right now you have both in your life."

Eddie nods. "Yes?"

"Right. You only get to keep one. One stays and the other leaves your life forever. You may see each other in passing, but you stop spending time together entirely."

A hint of panic bubbles up through Eddie's chest. This ridiculous dilemma is speaking to a fear he's been refusing to face.

Chimney leans forward, his elbows planted on the table between them. He nods to each hand in turn, "Buck or Marisol: who do you keep?"

"Buck." The answer shoots out of Eddie without a single moment for thought.

Chimney reaches over with his right hand and pats Eddie's forearm. "Don't change your will."

With another yawn and a screech of his chair, Chimney heads back down to the bunks, leaving Eddie in the middle of an epiphany.

He likes Marisol, but he could live without her.

He can't live without Buck. And he doesn't think that's going to change.

So, now 2:30 in the morning and alone in the half-lit room, Eddie does something he hasn't before. He compares his relationship with Buck to his relationship with Shannon. Before everything fell apart, he and Shannon had been a team. They'd felt invincible together, which is one of the reasons Shannon decided against an abortion. Everything fell apart only when they stopped talking, when they stopped having each other's back.

Buck gives him that same feeling of security and possibility.

He and Shannon had also had amazing sex, the kind you only get when you know someone inside and out. He and Buck-- he stops the thought there. Then another treacherous part of him points out that Buck is bi now, he might be interested if he knew Eddie was interested.

If Eddie were--images, fantasies of him and Buck in bed, in the back of an ambulance, in his kitchen, outside under the stars, stream flicker-fast through Eddie's mind until he shuts them down with a damned casserole recipe. Eddie drops his forehead to the table and covers his head with his hands.

He has to break up with Marisol.

#this was supposed to be a one paragraph description of a story i wanted to read #then it turned into this #not!fic #eddie diaz #chimney han #pre-buddie

[tommykiinard]

with everything happening with buck, with the universe screaming at him and him refusing to listen, the main speculation is that he’s going towards an imminent breakdown as a result of all the trauma he’s experienced since the daniel reveal

and it’s been speculated that it’ll all go wrong when buck’s family health history connects it all back to daniel via blood test reveal and stuff, but what if that’s not how it all connects back?

what if it’s maddie?

what if maddie is the one that makes that connection for buck?

what if chimney goes to maddie, tells her what he found out, and she goes to buck and makes that connection for him?

and i say this because she was the one that told him about daniel in s4. and in s5 she brought daniel back into the fold since his reveal when jee was ill and one of that possible causes was cancer. i think if that pattern holds, daniel will come back because maddie will mention him again

because who was buck talking to before he saw connor again? maddie. and who was excited for him in his new approach? maddie. and who asked him what he was looking for? maddie

so now that the team knows, but maddie doesn’t, then it’s only a matter of time until she finds out. and with how quick she was to think of daniel when jee was ill because what daniel had was genetic, it won’t be far fetched for her to make that connection for buck’s potential, biological offspring

and if the first time she mentions daniel in s6 is in a conversation with buck about the sperm donation, and we find that buck didn’t even consider it until it’s already been done? that he didn’t even think of it because he was so caught up on wanting to help his friend, to do something he can do for them as a way to fill a void that he’s so desperate to fill?

yeah, that’s definitely gonna break him

#9-1-1 #911 spoilers #911 meta #911 speculation #evan buckley #maddie buckley #daniel buckley #buckley siblings #L writes things #911 fox

[ravens-words]

Untitled

Eddie asks Buck about the coma dream.

"So tell me about this other life," Eddie whispers quietly, watching Buck absentmindedly run his fingers through Christopher's hair. He’s heard about it from Bobby, a little bit, and he can’t say he’s not curious about it.

Buck looks up, startled. "Huh?"

"Your other life," he repeats patiently, "tell me about it."

Buck hesitates, looks away, and Eddie frowns. "Come on, it can't be that bad," he prods jokingly.

The look on Buck's face says otherwise, so Eddie waits him out, doesn't pressure him.

"I was a teacher," he tells him, and Eddie finds himself smiling. "What?" Buck asks.

"What?"

"Why are you smiling like that?"

Eddie quirks an eyebrow. "I'm not allowed to smile now?"

"Not without telling me why you're smiling like that, you're not."

He shakes his head. "Just- I can see it. You being a teacher."

"Yeah?"

"Oh yeah," he nodded, "you're good with kids, you're patient, you're kind," Eddie realizes when Buck blushes that he may have gone overboard, so he overcorrects, "-and you're practically a kid yourself, so you must've fit right in."

Buck huffs, rolls his eyes. Then, he sobers up and clears his throat. "Daniel was alive," he tells him, "and he was a doctor.” He sounds devastated, but in a hushed type of way that feels somehow different than before. Buck may not talk about his brother much, or at all really, considering the fact that he hadn't gotten to know him, but whenever Buck did talk about him, it was like he was an open wound that refused to mend. Now, it was different, not an open, gaping wound, but a scar, tender and fresh, but healed.

"Buck-"

He doesn't seem to hear him, though, because he continues. "Maddie was still with Doug, and she was- not okay. Chimney- he didn't know Maddie. Jee wasn't there anymore. Hen was pretty much the same, though."

Eddie's quiet for a minute, then, "and me?" He asks, curious, "where am I?"

"I don't know," he confesses. Buck shudders, closes his eyes like it pains him, and Eddie scoots his chair closer, grabs the free hand that's not stroking Christopher's back.

"Hey, where'd you go?"

"You weren't there," Buck tells him, "you- you lost Christopher."

He freezes, body tense and ice cold, as he processes the words and puts it together. "Because you weren't there," he says softly, awed.

Buck laughs it off, "I was just making everything about myself, again."

"No," he tells him, "no, you- when I came to LA, Buck, I had no idea how hard being on my own would be. I was drowning, and you- you helped. More than you'll ever know."

"Eddie, I just introduced you to Carla, you did the rest all on your own."

Eddie's shaking his head before Buck can finish talking. "You were there constantly, whenever I needed you. You were my rock, and you still are. So, trust me when I tell you, I wouldn't have survived, let alone gotten to a place where I'm actually okay, without you."

Buck's eyes are rimmed red at this point, and Eddie's must be too, because he feels the itch of tears burn his eyes.

"You're giving me too much credit," he laughs wetly, sniffling.

Eddie smiles. "I don't think you’re giving yourself enough." He squeezes his hand again- only then realizing he's been holding it the entire time. "I don't say it enough, but thank you for everything, Buck."

He opens his mouth to say something, probably a denial, but then he just- nods, accepts it.

There's a knock on the door frame, and Buck's doctor pokes her head in. "Visiting hours are over, I'm afraid."

Eddie nods at her, and pulls himself up. Waking Christopher takes a good minute, and Buck just looks at them instead of offering any help. Christopher eventually opens his eyes, then climbs down, but not before hugging Buck tightly. "I'm glad you're okay now."

"Thank you, bud."

Eddie hesitates for a moment before he throws caution to the wind and leans down, pressing his lips to Buck's hair and lingering there for a few seconds, just breathing him in. "Hey, Buck?"

"Yeah?" Cautious, hopeful, afraid.

"I'm glad you picked us."

Buck looks up at him, and Eddie tries not to let all the love and fondness he feels for him show, and most likely fails.

Buck smiles, bright and beautiful. "I am, too."

#buddie #911 spoilers #not on AO3 until I write a part 2 in which they get together (if the people want it) #buddie fic #ejwritesbuddie

[attackfish]

@xpegasusuniverse asked for a continuation of the AU where Iroh finds a brainwashed Lu Ten after the war. Continued from: [Link], [Link], [Link], [Link], [Link], [Link], and [Link].

1. They have barely even begun rebuilding when a letter from Mai's father arrives. She packs up and sails off the next day, leaving her lieutenant, a gray-haired former Navy man named Jee, in charge of guarding him. She claimed she would be gone for a week. Lu Ten isn't especially surprised when she's back again after two days instead. Nor is he surprised when she refuses to say a word about what happened. The baby brother is a surprise though.

2. The early days of rebuilding the beach house are frenetic ones for Mai. Each carpenter, mason, painter, blacksmith, and laboror has to be vetted, something Mai takes care of personally, and then has Jee go over them so that she can have a second pair of eyes. And then, even once she's vetted them, she can't trust them, so she has to watch them, and she has to set her small contingent guards to watch them, because any one of them could be either an assassin, or an idiot with a grudge. And what little free time she has, she spends it with her brother. Lu Ten can understand. It's not like she's making up work. But sometimes, especially late at night, he wonders if maybe she's just happy to have the excuse not to have to talk to him.

3. She's a surprisingly good big sister. Maybe he shouldn't be surprised, with the way she's been treating him with kid gloves, but he's surprised anyway, watching her with Tom-Tom on her hip, or with his hand in hers, or as she watches him run along the sand in that flatfooted way of young children. He peppers her with questions, and brings things to show her, and she always answers, and carefully examines what he shows her, and sometimes, when she doesn't realize Lu Ten is watching her, he sees her smile at her brother.

4. A few weeks after she gets back, and while she's still up to her neck in the hard work of protecting Lu Ten, a letter arrives. It's from his father. Mai hands it to him already open, though she swears it's unread. A strip of the margin had been cut off, so that Mai could subject it to tests for poisons. In the letter, his father says that Zuko will be going on an expedition, and he will be serving as regent in his absense, but after Zuko returns, before he returns to Ba Sing Se, he wants to visit Ember Island.

5. His stomach goes cold at the thought, like he swallowed huge chunks of ice, and they're sitting inside him, unmelting. He doesn't know why. Why wouldn't he want to see his father who loves him and has never been anything but good to him? Why does it scare him? Mai looks him in the eyes and tells him he doesn't have to let his father visit. He can tell him to fuck off. Or Mai can make up a horrible contagious disease. They can find some excuse. But Lu Ten shakes his head. No, his dad can come. He has to let his dad come.

#avatar the last airbender #lu ten #atla mai #uncle iroh #posts i created #do you want to ask a question it doesn't have to be a question #five headcanons #i ship iroh/tea #mai doesn't hate you #brave soldier boy doesn't come marching home