This blog is going to be a mess™

Buck knows three things for certain, and one thing for maybe.

Number one: Eddie does not have a POA.

Number two: if the doctor had come to the waiting room to ask what the group had thought Eddie’s wishes were, all eyes would’ve turned to Buck.

Number three: isn’t that what a POA is, really?

Domestic Buddie for my weak lil heart ❤️

"She was," Buck says. He doesn't have to lift a hand to cover his face against the grimace deepening the tension headache he's been suffering from for what feels like days, now. He's already on the floor, an elbow propped on a knee, and his face half buried in a palm so he doesn't have to look around at Maddie's apartment-- everything carrying the faint aura of having been searched over by cops. "She wasn't safe with Doug, that's what I said. That's why this happened."

"I just…" she makes a sound that sends him reeling back in time, makes him smaller, makes him young, "I wish you would just be more clear. You're being so vague-- Maddie is safe and Doug is dead, but what actually happened?"

"I already explained," he grits out, presses the heel of his hand more firmly into his left eye where a steady, sharp pain just won't quit. "Maddie filed for divorce so Doug was able to find her. He kidnapped her, Mom."

"I think what your mother means," Phillip speaks up, his voice steady through the phone, just with slightly more distance between him and the receiver, "is that we don't understand how it ended with Maddie okay and Doug dead. We're confused about what happened in between. How does something like that happen if he was-- Well, he took her somewhere I presume, but--"

"He took her somewhere secluded," Buck says, "specifically to kill her."

ghost tagged by my most beloved @queerstark

i swear 2god i'm gonna end up posting this whole story to tumblr before it makes it to ao3 lmao

(also, to everyone who commented or added notes to the last one, this is for you--you have no idea how much your excitement and enthusiasm means to me!! i'm writing because of you xo)

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"You okay?" Eddie's looking at Buck from just underneath his eyelashes and, if Buck didn't know any better, he'd say it was somewhere in the neighborhood of flirting.

But he does. And it can't be. So it isn't.

"Yeah," Buck says, probably a little too loudly, probably a little too close to Eddie's ear as he leans in over the noise. His forehead hits the side of Eddie's cowboy hat, a little stiffer than he'd expected.

The song shifts again, something twangy with a beat that gets Eddie's hips moving, and he squeezes Buck's hand.

What else is he supposed to do but squeeze back.

But when Eddie uses the hand on his ribs to pull Buck in closer, Buck's big feet trip over nothing and they crash together, in a sweet, meet-cute way that Buck couldn't have designed any better himself.

Except he crashes a little into the sharp ridge of Eddie's Stetson.

"Whoa there, cowboy," Eddie says, tilting his temple against Buck's. His hand has moved from the side of his ribs to his back, Eddie's enormous hand spread wide, and Buck's blood is everywhere all at once. "Careful there."

Buck can feel the heat pouring off of Eddie, like he's standing too close to a space heater or an open oven, and he knows if he steps closer it'll burn, but he can't bring himself to care. "Told you I'd step on you."

"I took that risk," Eddie says, "I'm okay with it."

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hi hiii, i've been tagged SO many times in various weekday snippet sharing games and also in the last line tag game that was going around recently and i haven't had anything to share, but now i do so! i'm cashing in on all of those now lol.

ty to my lovelies @344j3 @gloomydiaz @tweetsongs @fastcardotmp3 @diazboys @frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe @semperama @iwasraisedfromperdition and @tizniz for the tags! (i think thats everybody? almost everybody? idk ive lost track of all the tags ive collected rip) 🫶🫶

here is a teeny little bite from the next drabble prompt i am working on!! i dont want to share tooooo much because these aren't super long, but!! i finally hit a stride with this one and i'm excited to share a few lines and hype it up a little bit!

Buck's knee knocks into his. It doesn't take much; Eddie's a bit of a manspreader on a good day, and tonight's laissez-faire slouch has unintentionally widened his sprawl even more. He's probably long since encroached on Buck's cushion like this, but Buck doesn't seem to mind. He presses his leg into Eddie's and leaves it there.

"Tell me a secret," he says, not quite a whisper, but hushed in a way that turns his voice rumbly. Eddie thinks if he were to rest a hand over Buck's chest, he could feel every word.

"What kind of secret?" Eddie asks, matching Buck's tone.

Buck purses his lips. Hums softly, in the back of his throat. Gestures absently with his beer bottle. "One you haven't told anybody else," he says.

Isn't that the point of all secrets? Eddie wants to ask. That none of them have been told to anybody else? But — he knows what Buck really means without having to ask: tell me a secret you haven’t told me.

been tagged by several people lately (@gloomydiaz @semperama @bucksbabybelly and @sinnabonka think i got you all <3) and while i haven't been able to work on this because of work and exhaustion, still going to share a bit more of my 9x13 angst fic because i like being evil. and i do want to try and get back to her asap <3

He makes a pitstop in his room to grab his coat and the comforter from the bed before dragging it down the short path to the lookout. There’s a few old benches and a rusted outdoor picnic table, all deserted. He wraps himself in his coat and blanket and sits on one of the benches to look out over the sleeping desert.  “Does it remind you of home?” Buck asked him back then. Before Los Nietos, before their fight, when the southwest was just starting to bloom red and gold through the windshield.  “Hmm?” Eddie replied. They’d had a long stretch of quiet, the stress of the drive and exhaustion of the games catching up with them at last. Eddie had stretched his back a bit, straightening at the wheel. “Does what remind me of home?” “This,” Buck said, gesturing at the rolling plains of sand and vegetation outside the window. “The desert.” Eddie blinked, mind still playing catch up from where he’d been daydreaming of his bed. “Not really. LA isn’t—I mean, you know what LA looks like. You’ve been there longer than me.”  Buck was quiet, long enough that Eddie had turned to catch him smiling at his lap.  “What?” Eddie asked.  “Nothing, I just, uh. I meant El Paso,” Buck said.  “Oh,” Eddie said stupidly. He could feel Buck looking at him in his peripheral. “No. El Paso is more… it’s not so red,” he explained, gesturing at the orangeish-red landscape. “And it’s more… flat. Not so many mesas.”  “Cool,” Buck said. He was quiet again, and Eddie let him build up to whatever it was he was gearing up to ask. “Do you… do you miss it?”  “Sometimes,” Eddie answered honestly. “I miss my family, my sisters. Even my parents, but it’s not home. Not like that, not anymore.”  “Ah,” Buck said, and Eddie didn’t have to look to know he was smiling. He wanted to see it anyway, and when he turned the setting sun was blinding through the windows, Buck lit up in hues of golden red. Eddie’s stomach had swooped like a hunting loon, and he had to look away before he drove them off the road or said something stupid. Even then a part of him had known, his body responding to Buck before his mind could make sense of it.   Eddie stays there until the sun starts to rise, sipping his coffee while light slowly spills out across the sand. The view is gorgeous, picturesque in a way nothing else in this town is. He should snap a picture for Maddie, show her that wherever it is in this place her brother rests, at least it’s beautiful.

i have been [insert machine grinding sounds] and have not managed to write anything substantial in a while but i've been tagged in various writing games by @meriwetherwrites @wheel-of-whimsy @iwasraisedfromperdition and @sunflowerbuckleys in the past few weeks! this counts as [insert writing descriptor here] [insert day here] bit as well as last lines because i finally managed to write a little more of the next chapter of as i walk with the sun yesterday <3 here's eddie having a very normal fine time in his mind prison he made.

The lights of the city cast parts of his face in warm light, and Eddie opens his mouth to answer, but the wrong words bubble up in his throat, unbidden.

I love you, he thinks.

Eddie snaps his mouth shut, and Buck looks at him expectantly.

“Eddie?” he asks, voice soft.

Eddie doesn’t open his mouth, because if he does he thinks, horrifyingly, that he won’t be able to stop himself from saying it. I love you, his throat bobs with it. I love you. His stomach churns.

It would be okay to say it, probably. Buck thinks they’re in a relationship, a real one. It wouldn’t be weird to tell Buck that he loves him. It wouldn’t have been weird before they were in a relationship, either, because they’re best friends and it’s only right that best friends love each other. He’s seen Chimney and Hen throw the words around easily, arms slung around each other’s shoulders. It would be fine. Eddie can say it.

Eddie doesn’t say it. It feels like a step too far, somehow. Even though it’s true, if not in the way that Buck would take them to be true. It feels like the words are a blade in his hands, bleeding him dry. He knows, with some kind of terrible, prophetic certainty, that if he lets the words fall from his lips, he would be driving the blade into Buck, instead.

Buck still has bandages on his side. His eyes watch Eddie like he wants to say something. He doesn’t. Eddie doesn’t. The words stay where they belong.

my current wip is being dragged along by mel, so a thousand thanks to her <3 tagged by beloved @tweetsongs; please enjoy crop top eddie and buck's single remaining thread of control:

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"I didn't know Eddie could two-step!"

May rolls her eyes at Josh, no amount of years between them changing their relationship from when May worked at dispatch. "He's from Texas, of course he can two-step!"

Buck's about to glue his head to the table with leftover beer so that he never, ever has to see Eddie dance with anyone ever again.

"Damn," one of May's friends says, "he could teach me how to two-step."

Buck understands this one. He's not happy to hear it spoken aloud, but he understands it. He wonders, for a moment, if there's already enough beer residue on the table to act as an adhesive or if he has to save what little is left in his.

But May, sweet and perfect May, somehow already has his back.

"No, no, no," she fusses, "we don't want Eddie teaching anyone anything that isn't—"

"Eddie!" Josh yells, lunging across the table as Eddie and Ian come back from the dance floor. "I didn't know you could two-step! Teach me!"

But Eddie just smiles, glistening from the inside. "Give me a few songs to rest up, okay?" He flops down on the bench next to Buck, but he doesn't exactly stop. "My cardio's not what it used to be." With every phrase and sentence he uses to carry on his conversation—whether that's about teaching Josh to two-step or answering vague, veiled questions from May's friends about his love life—he's getting…

Well.

He's almost in Buck's lap, is the thing.

They're sitting thigh to thigh, practically squeezed. Buck angled his body out a little the last time Eddie leaned over, trying not to spill his beer, so now his hand is planted behind Eddie, his arm resting along the entirety of Eddie's spine. And Eddie keeps leaning over to talk to people, so his shoulder is constantly resting against Buck's chest, the heat of them both getting caught in the thin cotton between them.

"Eddie," Buck whispers, "you wanna swap places with me? Make it easier to talk to people?"

Get me out of this particular situation before I pull you on my lap and make you sweat for real?

"Nah," Eddie whispers back, head turned to Buck's, noses almost touching. "I'm good here."