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The doctor tilts her head to the only source of warmth in the cold, hospital room. “And who’s he?”
Buck’s eyes drift to Eddie, hungry for the sight of him. They fall upon the tense line of Eddie’s shoulders, the firm press of otherwise plump lips, watching like the very air in his lungs depend on Buck’s answer.
“That’s Eddie,” Buck answers, and the smile sneaks up on him. “Eddie Diaz. My partner.”
There. Relief washes through Eddie in a visible wave: his shoulders drop, features relaxing with the soft push of an exhale. Buck warms at the sight. Right answer.
—
A polysemy is a word with multiple, related meanings. The word partner, for example, can mean close friendship, a teammate, a co-parent. To someone else, it can also mean a lover.Bookmarked by sufinkusu
08 Jun 2026
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“Alright,” Eddie shrugs, laissez-faire. He pulls Buck’s plate to the center of the table; pushes his own forward in kind. Then he begins a drawn-out circus routine of plucking an olive at a time up and out of the bowl and plopping them onto their respective dishes, one by one.
The delicate, repetitive movement of Eddie’s pinched fingers reminds Buck of picking the petals off of flowers. He loves me. He loves me not. He love—
An olive hits him square in the forehead.
“There,” Eddie says, resolute, as the pitted projectile tumbles to the ground at Buck’s feet. “Equal treatment.”
Or: Buck, Eddie, and the olive theory. Well, in theory.
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Bookmarked by sufinkusu
06 Jun 2026
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Up the mossy mountain steps, past the komainu guardians and the faded red gate, and beyond the boundaries of the green shrine—that’s where the forest and the spirit world within it lies. That’s were Hajime met him, and where their story began.
But intertwining of destinies can be ugly business, Hajime finds, when their first meeting begins with blood and the too-human eyes of a beast.
[STANDALONE]
Series
- Part 1 of temples, gods, and their mortals
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He wakes up with Eddie's arm thrown over his waist.
There's a pit in his stomach as soon as he opens his eyes, because the alarm is on again, the same radio station, the same song. The sunlight streaming into the room is buttery-soft, brand new because it's early. The alarm is ringing so they can take Chris to school. And—
He reaches out for the bedside table on his side of the bed they share, clumsily unplugs his phone one-handed. The screen lights up to a familiar wallpaper, and it's right there, just above the top of Buck's head: Wednesday.
or: buck breaks up with eddie, even if it means losing a part of himself, because it's the right thing to do. the universe decides to test that conviction.
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eddie's not entirely sure he believes in getting help, at least not for himself. there's only so much healing to be had for a body torn apart by bullets, for a mind that's only half there, for a man who's been leaving pieces of himself behind all his life with nothing to take their place.
except, as it turns out, falling apart happens in increments, and healing does, too: it happens when you gnaw a hole in your lip trying to keep quiet only to have the words escape; when you realize that the ghost you've been seeing out of the corner of your eye is yourself; when your best friend smiles, and you allow it to take your breath away.
it happens through the smallest of things: bird feeders, and cacti, and pasta shapes.
meanwhile, the world goes on.
(or: the entity often affectionately referred to as the unrepression fic.)
Series
- Part 1 of tell me about despair

