The Thing About 911 Is That The Shipping Drama And Discourse Surrounding It Completely Belies How Insane

BUDDIE ★ EDDIE'S WORDS OF AFFIRMATION (S08E09 + S08E10)

Okay so. For people not watching 911 it may SEEM like gifmakers are exaggerating how buck and eddie interacts, what with the gifmakers gaze and all that, right?

But here's the thing.

Gifmakers don't even have to have a specific agenda when it comes to these guys.

Buck and Eddie already look like they're in love, that's literally how they are in the show, even if gifmakers take only a couple seconds of their interactions to fit tumblrs size limit, none of them is exaggerating the amount of love these two hold for each other...

911 gifmakers are not making this up.

That's just how they are in the show, the gifmakers need only to convey it to us all in the form of their beautifully made gifs.

I would like to put forth my idea for how I would like Eddie's coming out and feelings confession for Buck to go. I am a little torn on whether I want the feelings confession/Buddie getting together to happen this season— only because I worry we'll get it at the very end and miss out on early relationship development between them in a time skip for S9. I think I'd be fine with it eventually if that's what we end up getting bc Buddie being canon at all is important to me, but I would hate to not see how they handle everything after they get together. Regardless, I would love to see them do this:

I want Eddie to get his gay realization and/or acceptance and feelings realization while in El Paso. I want Eddie and Chris to come back home to LA after figuring everything out, and I want Eddie to eventually have that one-on-one coming out conversation with Buck like they did in S7. I want Buck to be visibly shaken by this information, internally having the biggest freak-out of his life because holy shit Eddie isn't straight before he composes himself. Because this moment isn't about him, it's about Eddie. He apologizes for his reaction— because of course Eddie noticed and seemed to have a brief moment of panic himself— and reassures him that he was just surprised. Maybe Buck asks him what happened in El Paso to make him realize or Eddie himself offers up that information. Maybe he met or befriended someone while he was in Texas and they got to talking one night about their relationships. Maybe this person is gay, and, like Eddie, had repressed their sexuality for a long, long time before realizing that they had fallen in love with their best friend (and maybe Eddie leaves this little detail out because in the process of talking through this persons' relationship with their friend, Eddie realizes just how similar it is to his and Buck's relationship and he isn't ready to share that). He tells Buck about how the conversation got him thinking about his past relationships with women and why they never seemed to work out. By the end of it, he realized it was because he didn't really want to be with women at all. Maybe he even realized he had a close friend as a kid, a boy, who his feelings for went beyond platonic. Buck's response to this is one of support, because of course it is. He hugs Eddie, thanks him for telling him, and reassures him that this didn't change anything between them, just as Eddie had when Buck told him about Tommy. And maybe Eddie leaves it at that. He doesn't say anything to the contrary, no matter how much he wants to tell Buck that he does want their relationship to change, because he still doesn't feel worthy enough to have what he wants.

And so begins the most awkward, adorable, hilarious series of events where these two oblivious dorks dance around their mutual feelings for each other, assuming that they are unrequited while we the audience and all their friends and family know that that's not the case. They'll stumble over their words and stare at each other longingly when the other isn't looking. Maybe there will be moments of jealousy when the other gets hit on by someone they know the other could he interested in. Maybe a guy flirts with Eddie and Buck does that thing where he tries so desperately to get all of Eddie's attention back on him. Maybe there will be moments here and there where one of them will attempt to confess their feelings, only to be interrupted before they can get the words out. Or they go into the conversation with shaky confidence only to completely change the subject when they realize they can't say it.

Eventually, one of their friends or family members intervenes because someone has to. The two of them are getting absolutely nowhere because they are too afraid to cross the line. I would love it if Maddie was the one to approach the conversation with Eddie. Mostly because I need more interactions between the two, but also because I think it makes the most sense for what Maddie would do in the situation. Sure, Buck is her brother, but she knows well enough after their previous conversations about Eddie that there is a very slim chance she can convince him to make the first move. I also just want Eddie to be the one to make the first move, period. For him to finally get to a place where he feels worthy enough to choose what he wants, and he does. And maybe that's the crux of his conversation with Maddie. That he doesn't feel worthy of Buck. And Maddie reassures him that that isn't the case. She tells him about how she used to feel the same way when she ran away from her family. How unworthy she felt for so long to be a mother and a wife after the bathtub incident with Jee-Yun. How scared she was to make a mistake that would ruin everything. But eventually, she pushed through it, despite the fear, and came out on the other side so much happier. And Eddie can do the same. His past mistakes do not define him if he doesn't let them. She's seen how much the two of them matter to each other, how they make each other better people. She's also seen how miserable they can be when they are apart. So she tells him to think about it, encouraging him to face his fears and push through them for a chance at the life that he wants, one full of joy.

And he does think about it, over and over again, but maybe it still takes him a bit before he's ready. Maybe he even tries to plan out the perfect love confession once he gets there. And maybe all of that goes completely out the window one night when it's just the two of them sitting side by side on the couch in their apartment (omg please let them be roommates once Eddie and Chris come back). There's a moment while they're talking where their eyes meet. Then a pause in the conversation as they look into each other's eyes. And this is the moment where the dam breaks. Eddie tells Buck that he loves him. He's loved him for a very long time, longer than he probably even realizes. That he couldn't stop thinking about him while he was away in El Paso. How scared he has been to tell him since he realized, especially once he and Chris came back home. And maybe he just starts rambling at this point because he's being very vulnerable in this moment and he's not used to that and once he starts he can't stop himself. And Buck is waiting patiently for him to stop talking so he can say what he needs to say, but at a certain point, he realizes Eddie isn't going to and takes matters into his own hands. He kisses Eddie. And it's not a great first kiss. It's not really meant to be, just a pressing of lips together long enough to get Eddie to shut up for a second so that when Buck pulls away he can tell him, "I love you, too". They look at each other for a moment and smile before leaning in again for a second kiss. And it's perfect. They'll eventually need to talk more about where they go from here. How and when they'll tell Chris, the 118, and the rest of their families. But for right now, it's just them sharing their first intimate moment as a couple, putting aside all of their fears and worries for as long as they can to make this moment last.

i am so serious when i say dark and quiet are both human rights.

i don't mean like absolute silence. obviously in an ideal community, there would still be sound and noise from people and music and work etc. but it haunts me that when i camp in the forest i can hear the howl of semi trucks on the interstate miles away. and the people who live beside it never know quiet. it haunts me that many people will live their whole lives never seeing the stars in the sky that were fully visible with NO electric light pollution as recently as my great-grandparents' childhoods.

so much of our lives is bright bright unnecessary noise. neon mcdonalds signs 200 feet in the air so we can see it from the road. led lights over billboards. parking lots lit up like sports stadiums at closed office buildings. advertisements playing at gasoline pumps. streets lined with led porch lights and decorative garden lights that genuinely threaten entire species of wildlife. music blaring outside pharmacies to deter homeless people. everything always shining and wailing for no purpose but profit and cruelty.

obviously not everything can be turned off or made quiet and i wouldn't want it to be anyway and there is a lot of nuance and room for "but what about" here, but MANY things HAVE to change because none of us are supposed to live like this and we shouldn't have to!!!

Literally Buck being Eddie’s biggest supporter is so important, Eddie feels so alone and isolated and like he’s on the outside right now, but he’s got Buck. No matter how far away he always has Buck like!!!!!!!!!!!!

It’s literally so sick that the first episode where Eddie won’t be with the 118 is the “Bobby’s mom is a mega-church televangelist” episode. Like. He would have so much to say… so many faces to make… Eddie…

The interesting thing about the "if you’re asking me to choose between you and my son" line is that Buck isn't doing that at all. Not once has he said, or even implied that he wanted Eddie to choose. This is Eddie projecting, because he is choosing and he hates it! Of course he's going to choose Chris every time, but it's killing him that he has to choose at all!

Eddie isn't sure what he's expecting when Buck meets him at the airport. Red-rimmed eyes, splotchy face, hunched shoulders probably. Not this. Distant eyes, blank face, straight-backed. He'd been braced to catch Buck as soon as he landed, had spent his whole flight locking every bit of his own grief away to be thought about at a later date, let the guilt pool in his chest instead.

I should've been there, I could've -

He'd been ready to catch Buck, but it's Eddie who falls into Buck's waiting arms. Eddie who tears up. Eddie who clutches at the back of Buck's shirt like a scared child. And it's Buck sweeping his hands up and down Eddie's back, holding him together, murmuring:

"It's okay. I've got you. It's not your fault."

Eddie doesn't cry in LAX. His grief is a private thing. Always has been. He locks it into his bedroom and lets it out behind closed doors. But Buck is the safest space he's ever had, so he lets himself break a little. Lets himself shake apart under Buck's hands until he can ground himself with a deep breath at the junction of Buck's neck and shoulder. Until he can stand on his own.

Buck looks at him, eyes searching, deepest of furrows between his brows, so devastatingly gentle. And Eddie kind of wants to fucking scream at him for being okay. He'd needed to take care of Buck. He'd needed to have something to do. But now Buck is looking at him like he can fix him, and Eddie wants him to. So badly. But Buck knows Eddie's grief is for South Bedford Street, not LAX, so all he does is lead Eddie out to the parking lot.

It's a silent drive. Buck tells him the details of the funeral. Clinical. Sparing. And Eddie watches Buck's knuckles turn white on the steering wheel. Listens to the creak of leather under an unyielding grip. And he sees it then. The countdown over Buck's head, ticking away steadily. He's grateful in a way.

They pull up to the house silently. The engine falls quiet. And they stare at the door. The door Bobby had appeared on the other side of just a few months ago for a goodbye dinner. At the house. The house Bobby made coffee in when Eddie couldn't stomach being alone. At the home. The home Bobby helped him build in every way.

Buck gets out of the car. Eddie follows. Buck unlocks the door. Eddie locks it behind them. Buck disappears into the kitchen. Eddie pauses.

Can't quite separate Bobby from kitchens in his mind. And it's not like Bobby ever cooked anything in Eddie's kitchen, but there's some stupid grief-crazed part of his brain that thinks he'll find Bobby at the stove for a last supper. A parting gift to Eddie. Because Bobby was always too good. Too generous. Too understanding. When it came to Eddie.

When he finally makes it in there, Buck is stood staring into the fridge. Vacant. Eddie joins him, presses their shoulders together as hard as he can without knocking Buck away, and looks at Buck's fingers curled loosely around two beer bottles. Eddie knows it's not the early hour staying his hand.

It feels wrong. To find comfort in alcohol at Bobby's expense.

Carefully, Eddie unpicks Buck's fingers from the bottles and watches as Buck's arm falls limp to his side with such weight it bounces off his hip. Swings once, twice, stops suddenly. Eddie grabs the water filter. Closes the fridge.

"Sit down," he whispers. Sure, steady.

Buck sits down.

Eddie grabs two glasses. Fills them with water. Leaves the filter on the side. Who cares? Who fucking cares? Takes the glasses over to the table in shaking hands. Spills only a little. Sits opposite Buck. Stares into his cup.

"I didn't say it back," Buck rasps eventually.

Eddie picks his head up with great effort. Ony manages it because he wants to see what hurt he's caused. Their missing medic. Absent in their hour of need.

"What?"

"B-he-he told me he loved me." Buck's eyes go wide. Horrified. Haunted. Hollow. "He t-told me he l-loved me, and I could-couldn't say it back be-because that would mean..." Buck chokes a sob into his hand. "I thought we'd fix it. I-I-I thought we'd find a way. We-we always do. I couldn't say it-it. I didn't want t-to let him go. And now, he's..." Buck's face crumples first. Then, the rest of his body follows, folding in on itself in the chair until he looks almost as small as Christopher had the first time he'd ever sat at this table. "He's d-gone, and he doesn't know I love him."

"He knows, Buck." Eddie's hand curls into a fist on the tabletop. Doesn't know what to do. For all he'd been ready to hold Buck together, he's not sure how. "He knows you love him, Buck. You told him every single day."

"But I never said the words!" he snaps. Pure rage. Pure guilt. He looks up at Eddie. Blue eyes wet and red and wild. The rage and the guilt seeps away, leaves only pure grief. "I never said the words."

He sobs then. Doesn't choke it down. Lets it out. Eddie reacts like it's instinct even though he's never done this before. Just somehow knows in his bones what to do when it comes to Buck.

He stands, rounds the table, slides a hand into Buck's hair, one on his shoulder, pulls Buck's face into his stomach and holds him there, holds him together. Buck's fingers tangle themselves in Eddie's belt loops. A lifeline. And Eddie holds him tight as he can.

"All the times you cooked for him. All the times he cooked for you. The two of you cooking together. You had your own language, Buck. He knows you love him."

And all Eddie hears is: you're gonna stand there with a hundred-something bodies on you and tell me I'm not fit for duty. Did Bobby know Eddie loved him too?

Squeezing his eyes shut tight, Eddie drops his cheek to the top of Buck's head. Stops holding Buck together and starts holding on. Buck's hands grasp at his hips, twist into the back of his shirt just like Eddie's had at the airport.

And all Eddie hears is: I just want to make sure you don't think you have to lose everything before you can allow yourself to feel anything.

800 miles between them but still have each other’s backs🥹

1x10 // 8x10