#911: snippets

[actuallyrandompersondaily]

"I am realising," Eddie said, looking vaguely bewildered in the middle of a flour-dusted kitchen, "That I may have overestimated my newfound cooking abilities."

Buck leaned against the entryway, suppressing an amused smile as he surveyed the damage.

"Maybe just a little," he replied, and Eddie huffed, running a floury hand through his hair.

"You don't get to judge me, Buck, I've heard all the stories about your probie year."

Buck just grinned at that, pushing forwards to meet Eddie in the middle of the kitchen.

"I do if you want me to help you make something for Chris' bake sale tomorrow," he replied, tilting his head cockily. "That is why you invited me over, right?"

Eddie sighed, looking around again at the mess.

"It would be helpful," he admitted. "But I'd actually been fairly confident in my abilities when I sent that text. I'd had… other plans for tonight."

Buck's expression softened, and he leant in to brush a kiss against Eddie's lips.

"We'll have to get the kitchen sorted quickly then, huh?"

[the-hwaelweg]

Whatever You Do, Don't Use Your Words

Buddie | 4k | T | Idiot4Idiot

It’s Buck’s fault, when you get down to it. He’d gotten overly attached, started thinking of Eddie as his partner, and Eddie and Chris as his family. Maybe not in so many words, but still. And it’s not like he and Eddie aren’t friends. Eddie’s still his best friend in the whole world. Just. He’s trying to be reasonable. Rein himself in. He’s embarked on a case study of Hen and Chim’s best friendship, trying to figure out where the lines are. Everything is going according to plan. Or, in which Buck is a Totally Normal Best Friend (he did a case study; he wrote guidelines) and Eddie definitely handles it in a Totally Normal and Sane Manner and Not at All Like a Kicked Puppy.

Read it on AO3.

[hinge]

Hinge presents an anthology of love stories almost never told. Read more on https://no-ordinary-love.co

[moonydanny]

WIP Wednesday

Tagged (last week but shhh) by @ambernotember 💜💜

I really, really wanted to write at least one little ficlet for the 911whatisyourpride event, so here's a little snippet of the one I'm cooking for this week.

Buck didn’t notice at first. Actually, it took him a while, but once he did, he couldn’t unnotice it. In fact, it’s all he'd been able to think about, to the point where Tommy had called him out for being unnaturally spacey while they were out at the farmer’s market.

But who could blame him, when what he’d noticed was the fact that Tommy kept rubbing his thumb on Buck’s ring finger whenever they held hands. 

Holding hands had become one of Buck’s favorite things while they were dating before the infamous breakup. Something about the simplicity and casualness of the gesture, how warm and big Tommy’s hands were, how natural it felt, made Buck giddy in a way he had never felt in any of his previous relationships—admittedly, one of many things that had made him giddy about dating Tommy. 

Buck had been racking his brain trying to remember if Tommy ever brushed his ring finger like this before or if it was a new development, but he couldn’t really recall. He was pretty sure he hadn’t noticed it quicker because Tommy did use to rub his thumb on Buck’s hand often—when they walked side by side, arms swinging with their hands clasped in between them, when they were out at a coffee shop or having dinner at a restaurant and their hands met on top of the table. It was another reason why Buck loved holding Tommy’s hand. Such a small gesture, Tommy’s thumb tracing soft patterns on the back of his own hand almost absentmindedly, like a reflex, but one that made Buck feel cherished, that always left him with a warm, soft feeling in his chest. 

Now, the caress seemed just as absentminded, but it wasn’t random patterns anymore. It was almost exclusively his left ring finger. Buck had noticed it a few days ago, as they were cuddling on Tommy’s infuriatingly comfortable couch after dinner, watching something on TV that you couldn’t pay him to remember. Buck had been snuggled right up against Tommy’s side, with Tommy’s arm over his shoulders. At some point, Buck had lifted his hand to lace his fingers with his boyfriend’s by his left shoulder, and he’d felt the familiar soft caress of Tommy’s thumb against his knuckles.

More precisely, one knuckle. 

So he started paying attention, thinking he had to be reading too much into it and was probably just a coincidence. But no, it wasn't.

np tags @qwordavoider @quintessenceofdust88 and @jcneseymour (mostly I just want you guys to see this 'cause look! I'm writing! 🥹😅)

[trombonechurchill]

Thirsty Thursday

Tagged by @setmeatopthepyre and @chimneyz thank you~

😏been awhile since I've had anything to share but I've been struck down by yet another new WIP, shocker. a 5+1 of Bartender!Buck trying to guess the favourite drink of his new favourite, totally normal, very human patron, Tommy...

"Fine. I'm fine," he says tightly. It's not exactly convincing. "Alliums," he adds, unhelpfully, clearing his throat and gripping the sink tighter when Buck only tilts his head in confusion. "Allergic to alliums. Like onions or-" "Garlic- Oh shit, Tommy I'm sorry, there was garlic salt in the rim- I had no idea." Tommy raises a hand and Buck falls quiet, shocked as his mouth seems to close on its own. Tommy's breaths are still coming in rabid gasps, a shudder passing over him that finally manages to kick Buck's brain back into gear. It's been a minute since his last first-aid course but he'd feel better if he could at least check Tommy over, the urge to get his hands on him almost overwhelming, like Tommy might simply disappear into the ugly bathroom tile if Buck can't rest his hands on him. "Hey, you sure you're okay?" Tommy flinches when Buck's palm settles lightly on his back and he's struck by the lack of body heat. There's a sheen of sweat over Tommy's skin and he blinks thickly as he turns to regard Buck, seemingly confused how he could have gotten next to him. Buck frowns, reaching out to rest the back of his hand on Tommy's clammy forehead. "You're kinda freaking me out, man." "Sorry," Tommy says thickly, swaying into the contact and shutting his eyes. Buck swears he can feel the weight of it, the sudden lack of Tommy's eyes on his, like someone slowly turning the dial on the old radio in his Jeep, static fuzz creeping in if he looks too long. He let's the hand drop, suddenly not sure how long he'd been holding it to Tommy's flushed skin, laments the loss of contact immediately. He's been serving Tommy for months now but it's telling that he's never seen him drunk. Tommy's a social drinker, though he rarely talks to the other bar patrons when Buck's busy. It's part of why Buck likes Tommy as a customer so much, never had to cut him off, never had to haul Tommy bodily outside when they hit closing time. Now though, Tommy swaying in and out of Buck's space like a stormy sea, eyes hazy as he leans awkwardly, still breathing hard. Maybe Buck does really need to call someone- "Sorry, I'm really sorry," Tommy rasps again, finally loses his valiant battle with gravity as he presses his face into Buck's throat, full weight of him solid along Buck's chest as his arms come up to cradle him automatically. "Hey, no you're good, I've uh- I've seen way worse in a bar bathroom are you kidding?" Buck stutters at the cold press of Tommy's nose under his jaw, feels the flutter of breath on his skin as Tommy inhales deeply. Feels his blood burn hot at the idea that Tommy might be smelling him.

np tagging @emphasisonthehomo, @ambernotember, @frogsinflannel, @dark-alice-lilith, @sunnywithachanceofbi, @disaster-j, @3min17sec, @mustlovetommy, @nzchance, @gothwizardmagic, @insecuregodcomplex, @bangpop91, @powersuitup @vamphours, and @o0anapher0o if you guys have anything to share <3

[bieddiediaz]

“I thought—” Eddie gasped, eyes fluttering shut and head banging against the wall, “—you said—” another twist, another shaky breath, “—you were celibate.”

The man in front of him huffed out a laugh. “You said you were straight.” He pressed Eddie even further into the wall, if that were possible. Eddie moaned as the hand around him tightened and a thumb ran over his cockhead, his own hands gripping onto shoulders for dear life.

“I think we established—ah!—that I’m not good at letting myself have things.”

“Well,” a kiss on his throat, a tongue moving down to his clavicle, a mouth sucking on his neck. “You can let yourself have this.”

Eddie moaned again, barely able to focus on anything other than the body pressed up against his and the hand on his cock. He ran his hand down his muscular back, down a spine, gripped his ass. Hips jerked into Eddie’s, and all Eddie could see was white.

“It’s okay, Eddie. You can let go.”

It felt like sacrilege and it felt like salvation as he came, and came, and came.

[wikiangela]

wip wednesday

tagged by @theotherbuckley

hello, I need to start posting more snippets again, I have too many wips I need motivation for lol

here's my "8x11 morning after going differently fic" where im giving them the counter make out they deserve lol it uses some of the dialogue until a certain point, but then it's going how it was supposed to idc lol

(lowkey set myself a cut off point in the episode dialogue to change stuff from then on and got stuck but I rememberd I can change stuff at any point actually, who knew lol)

___

"Honestly?" Buck scans Tommy's face, leaning in slightly. He can't help his eyes falling onto his lips, that perfect cupid's bow he needs to taste again. "This was the best night I've had in this place." He smiles, feeling so light and well-rested for once, and so happy. Just, he feels right, sitting here with Tommy so close. "To be fair," Buck adds, "it's also the first night I've had in this place, but, uh, still." He licks his lips, not even hiding he's looking right at Tommy's. Craving another taste.

Buck squeezes his thighs around Tommy's hips, reaches out to wrap his arms around Tommy's neck and bringing him closer. Tommy's not protesting, his smile only growing, hands inching a little further up on Buck's thighs.

"Yeah?" Tommy tilts his head, gaze stopping on Buck's lips.

"Mhm." Buck's eyes flutter as he leans further into Tommy, their noses brushing.

"Wonder why's that." Tommy hums, and Buck laughs, shakes his head slightly, enough to not lean away from Tommy.

"I always sleep better with you next to me." Buck whispers, and hears Tommy's breath hitch before he presses his lips to Tommy's.

___

no pressure tags

@dr-shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @watchyourbuck @diazpatcher @monsterrae1 @pirrusstuff @rogerzsteven @honestlydarkprincess @diazheartsbuckley @giddyupbuck @thewolvesof1998 @underwaterninja13 @your-catfish-friend @gaytommykinard @beyourownanchor6 @weewootruck @kirkaut @quillvice @wildfluorescent @bucked-it-up @drcloyd @girlwonder-writes @dadbodbucky @loullaby @aringofsalt @actuallyitsellie @hippolotamus @diazsdimples @hyperfocusthusly @cornerofspace @tommybuckleys @romanbridgers @evansbuck-ley @champagnetommy and anyone who wants to idk <3

[tevanbegins]

Interview snippets about Bucktommy and other Buck S8 storylines (Sources: Screenrant, TVInsider)

EDIT:

More snippets from Tim Minear's interview...

(Source: TV Guide)

[salty-autistic-writer]

Tommy talks to Maddie. (Spoilers for episode 15, grief)

Evan is asleep. Finally, after hours of shaking and crying, his breaths turned even. He's curled up on his side, the pillow wet from his tears.

After a last checking glance at Evan, Tommy carefully leaves the room and gently closes the door behind him. He can’t sleep yet. His body still caught in a state between agitated disbelief and the urge to do what he can to take care of Evan in his heartbreaking grief.

When Tommy steps into the living room, he sees Maddie sitting on the couch. She nods at him, her face pale and eyes red rimmed from her own tears. While Tommy is here for Evan, she’s here for Chimney.

“How’s Buck?” Maddie asks quietly.

Tommy leans against the table. “He’s sleeping now.”

Maddie nods, sighing softly. “Chimney too. Finally. How are you doing?”

Tommy shrugs. “Right now, I’m feeling pretty numb. I haven’t been able to cry so far, even though my head feels like it might burst any moment. Maybe I won’t be able to stop crying later. I don’t know. I have no idea what will happen. Until now, I only had experience with the death of people I stopped caring about.” He falters, blinking, realising he talked an awful lot instead of answering the question with a short okay or something. “Oh. I’m sorry. I think I just overshared.”

“It’s okay. Everybody grieves differently,” Maddie states quietly, reaching for a pillow and pressing it to her chest. “Thank you,” she adds, looking up at him. “For being here for Buck. And … For helping to save Chimney. I was so scared when … when I saw him. He looked so sick. So pale. So … Close to death. If he hadn’t gotten the antiviral in time …”

She stops, twisting her fingers into the pillow, her eyes staring into the void and filling with new tears.

Tommy knows what she wanted to say. 

If it wasn’t for the antiviral, Howie would have died too.

Tommy swallows. “Howie saved my life,” he says, remembering waking up in a hospital bed, surprised by Howie’s face hovering above him, smiling and holding a sandwich. “He’s my friend. I will always be there if he needs help.”

Or anyone from the 118 really.

“I wish I could have done something to save Bobby,” Tommy admits, his chest clenching. He felt so lost when he was watching it all happen on the monitors. So helpless.

Maddie nods. “I think we all wish that,” she says, wiping at her eyes. “But no one could have helped him. He knew that. It was his choice to die like this. It was his choice to make sure his team, his family, got out of that lab alive. We have to honour it.”

“Yeah. It’s just so hard to imagine a world without Bobby Nash,” Tommy says, remembering the moment when Bobby encouraged him to transfer. I’m sad to see you go, but happy you get to chase your dream , he had said with that honest smile. And then he welcomed Evan to the 118 table. The father I never had , Evan told Tommy once. And now … that piece was torn from the world, yet it’s still turning. It’s surreal.

Maddie gives him a sad smile. “Well, we all somehow have to live in that world now,” she says, getting up and hugging him, which surprises Tommy, but also fills him with a warm glow.

“We should try to get some sleep too,” Maddie tells him. “Tomorrow is going to be tough for everyone."

She slowly leaves the room, running a hand through her hair. Tommy watches after her, his head aching. He can feel pressure behind his eyes. Maybe tomorrow he will be able to finally cry.

(AO3 Link)

[actuallyrandompersondaily]

"Why the fuck do I have so much stuff," Buck groaned, flopping down on his bed so that he could avoid looking at the unpacked boxes he was surrounded by. "I've been basically living with you and Chris for months now, I thought this had all migrated over already."

"There's a reason I suggested you just pack anything sentimental and then donate everything else," Eddie called from the lower level of the loft. "If you haven't used it in the past couple of months, you probably don't need to hang on to it."

Buck sighed, rolling over to bury his head in his pillow.

"But it's all sentimental to me," he said, voice muffled, before sitting up again and looking back into the mess that was his closet. "I just… didn't quite realising how many shirts I owned. And I still like most of them, even if I haven't worn them in a while."

Eddie laughed, voice moving closer.

"Do you need me to sort through your clothes as well, baby? I'm almost done with the DVDs."

"I feel like if I agree I'm going to end up only owning shirts that are at least half a size too small," he replied, raising an eyebrow at Eddie as he came up the stairs.

Eddie shrugged, unrepentant.

"Because that's so different to how you normally dress," he pointed out, voice dry, and Buck laughed.

"You aren't wrong," he admitted, reaching out and tugging Eddie closer via the belt loops on his jeans. "Would you? I can take over packing the downstairs, and I know our DVD collection as well as you do."

"Sure," Eddie replied, leaning down to kiss Buck gently. "Do you also want to order delivery? By the time it arrives we'll be due a break."

"Chinese?"

"If you want."

"Normal order?"

Eddie nodded, hand still threaded lightly through Buck's hair.

"Including Chris', we can take it home as leftovers."

"Of course," Buck replied, sounding as though that had never been in question, and Eddie grinned, pulling him in for another kiss.

"Love you," he said, pulling away, before nodding back towards the stairs. "Now get to work, or we'll never have you fully moved."

[vivalafxxku]

Run to Me

Buck spent his whole life running. Running after his parents' love, running away from home, running for a place to belong, running through the academy, running to the 118, running after every pretty thing that looked his away.

He finally stopped running when he met Abby. He finally felt settled. She was it. She was supposed to be the one, so he waited.

And what a mistake that was. She left and he was left waiting.

So he's back to running. He's running after his sister, running after Ali, running through physical therapy, running from a fucking tsunami, running for Christopher, running for his job, running after Taylor, running to the hospital, running away from the hospital.

And he's so, so, so fucking tired.

He just wants to stop.

He says as much to Eddie after one too many beers.

He wants to stop running, he wants something — someone — to run to him, to stay. What was so wrong with him that he had to run after everything he wanted? Why was he always running? Chasing?

"Run to me." Is all Eddie says.

Buck blinks, choking mid-swig. "What?"

"Run one more time, run to me. Or wait for me and I'll catch up. I don't care, Evan. Just give yourself to me. I'm here if you'll have me."

(I just want someone to be chasing after Buck the way he deserves)

[moonydanny]

Little fic idea I had... Maybe if you guys like it I can expand it a bit?

After Eddie drops the bomb that he’s leaving, Buck holds it together.

Honestly, he’s kinda proud of himself for that. He does help with the video call with the realtor. Helps Eddie pick a house. They have a beer after. And he holds it together.

When he goes to leave, he gets into his Jeep and starts to feel himself losing it. But he knows he has to hold it a bit longer. He’ll let go when he gets to the loft. Only he doesn’t drive to the loft. Without realizing it, he ends up in front of Tommy’s house. And he sees Tommy’s truck in the driveway, so he knows he’s home.

He sits there for a minute, two, trying to find the strength to drive away, but his resolve is crumbling, and he needs Tommy. So he walks to the door and knocks before he can change his mind.

Tommy opens the door, and the surprise is clear on his face. And god, how Buck has missed his face. 

“Hey. What are you doing here? Is everything okay?”

And that’s what does it, what breaks the dam. His eyes fill with tears, and through his blurry vision he sees Tommy’s expression morph into genuine worry.

“Eddie is leaving for Texas”, he says, voice barely above a whisper, the words only just going past the lump in his throat. Tommy’s eyebrows go up in disbelief and his eyes go all soft as he looks at Buck.

“I—Tommy.”

Next thing he knows, Tommy’s arms are around him, holding him tight as a sob finally tears from deep in his chest.

[trombonechurchill]

Growing Sideways

BuckTommy, 930 words, rated G

Years of therapy and reflection and clawing himself out from under the chip left on his shoulder, Tommy was still his father's son. He was not someone to trust with fragile, gentle things.

Tommy brings Buck home after he gets his wisdom teeth out. Buck, more than a little high on anesthesia, lets a few thoughts slip that throw Tommy for a loop.

Read here or on AO3

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

The smile Evan gave him when Tommy finally got him situated on the couch was beatific. At least, Tommy assumed it was directed at him. Evan's eyes were glassy from the leftover sedation and it was highly possible he was smiling dreamily at the wall behind him. Or maybe Tommy's ear.

"Come on, arms in, let's get you set up," Tommy said gently, herding Evan's wayward limbs with a patient smile, fending off more than a few seeming attempts at wandering hands as he fluffed pillows and tucked the blanket more securely around Evan's knees.

"Okay, doctor said you can have your next dose of pain meds in a few hours so until then we have applesauce, soup, and that whale documentary ready to go," Tommy said, plopping himself on the cushion next to Evan and hefting up the remote. The motion seemed to dazzle Evan for a extended, gossamer moment before foggy eyes drifted back to Tommy's face (ear).

"Gosh you're amazing," Evan said with a sigh, voice fuzzy around the gauze in his cheeks.

"The feeling's mutual, you have no idea," Tommy said softly, running a palm over Evan's hair and smiling fondly as Evan pressed into the motion like a cat.

"No, no, you're so amazing," Evan said, struggling and squirming against the pillow battlements Tommy might have gone a little overboard in setting up around him, a flailing hand coming to rest with a rather enthusiastic smack on Tommy's cheek, thumb dangerously close to inserting itself into Tommy's nostril in the process.

"Thank you, Evan-" Tommy started, already moving to disentangle Evan from where he was lovingly palpitating his cheekbones.

"So amazing, you take such good care of me." Tommy was startled to see tears forming in Evan's eyes as he gushed, his fight with Evan's hand momentarily forgotten as he moved to reach for Evan's face instead.

"Shh, hey, it's okay, I love it. I love taking care of you," Tommy said, brushing a thumb feather-light over the apple of Evan's already swollen cheek.

It had maybe been a mistake as Evan returned the gesture with far less grace and Tommy had to quickly reroute a few fingers before he lost an eye, patting Evan's hand affectionately.

"Wanna make a million babies with you," Evan hiccuped, undeterred by Tommy having snagged his hand, seemingly content to simply capsize against Tommy's chest, head coming to rest against his sternum.

Tommy laughed, shifting back to petting the back of Evan's head as he continued to mumble into his chest. "Not sure that's on the cards for us biologically, babe," he told Evan gently, carding his fingers through his head.

"Take such good care of me," Evan repeated again with another sigh. "You're gonna be such a good dad."

Tommy froze.

There was no doubt Evan and kids were some sort of inevitability. You only needed to spend a moment with him to see how badly Evan wanted a family, how fatherhood would make him glow.

No one looked at Tommy and saw a father.

It had been a cold comfort when he was younger, shoving pieces of himself back into the closet, to know that at least he'd never have to worry about that. Being like his father.

Evan was still pressed against Tommy's chest, heedless of how Tommy had gone still beneath him as his body went loose and pliant. Tommy levered him gently into a move comfortable position, taking in Evan's now slack face as he arranged them both on the couch, heart in his throat. He looked totally at ease, resting on Tommy's shoulder. It was terrifying.

Years of therapy and reflection and clawing himself out from under the chip left on his shoulder, Tommy was still his father's son. He was not someone to trust with fragile, gentle things.

Tommy wrapped one of Evan's curls around his finger, watching them twine together. Evan wanted kids, a family, a place to set all the love brimming inside him. And Tommy would ruin it. Sharp words and hard edges that he could never fully file away. Tommy's neurosis couldn't be so easily childproofed.

When he'd been five, Tommy had tried to fit into his father's shoes, tie wrapped untidily around his neck like a rip cord, gait unsteady as he practiced walking with the same spine straight steps as his father did.

He'd never gotten them to fit, his father had been a large man. But Tommy had learnt how to hold his spine rigid, how to walk and move in the way everyone wanted him to whether he liked it or not.

Tommy could never do that to someone else. To some other kid with Evan's eyes and open, bleeding heart.

But even as Evan flung his arm across Tommy's stomach with a snort, Tommy knew that wasn't why the comment had made him freeze. Fight, flight, or freeze, Tommy had always been a runner. But the idea of it, of a family, with Evan. It hadn't made him want to run.

Arguably, that was a lot scarier of a thought.

Because he could see it, unspooling in front of him with the same certainty when Evan had asked him for a second chance, to come to Howie's wedding, to come back to him. Because Tommy, with all his hard edges, the need to run, to hide, he wanted to stay.

"Why don't we talk about it when you're not high on Valium," he said quietly, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of Evan's head.

Maybe some things were worth being scared for.

[elvensorceress]

saturday snippet of longing and pining and being completely unaware of your own feelings! (feelings are hard, okay)

@tizniz @hippolotamus @livinginsunnyhell @eddiebabygirldiaz @spotsandsocks @thelikesofus @monsterrae1 @ronordmann @wh0rebehavi0r @epicbuddieficrecs @chaosandwolves @singitforthegirls @daffi-990 @lonelychicago @sofa-king-lame @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @blutterlie @sazanahashi @smilingbuckley @inell @bekkachaos @evaneds @rainbow-nerdss 💕

more of this 🥰

"I don’t know how anyone could not want you.”

Buck stares at him again with that piercing, soul-rending gaze that skewers directly through Eddie’s chest. But then Buck closes his eyes and shakes his head with a sardonic huff. “He’s straight. So. Doesn’t really work that way.”

Probably says something that Eddie’s first thought is, why not?

Why would it matter? Who would even care about sexuality if it were Buck offering his heart? Attraction is made up bullshit anyway. Who actually looks at someone and wants them when you know nothing about each other? Who wants to fuck just because they think someone is good looking? No one falls in love at first sight. It’s romanticized, telenovela fiction. And people lying to themselves because they’re lonely or want attention or orgasms or whatever. 

There’s a lot you can convince yourself of when you’re lonely, heartbroken, afraid you’ll die alone, afraid you’re a failure as a person, a husband, a partner. There’s a lot someone might do to be what other people want. There’s a lot that gets cut out and tucked away in order to be what you’re supposed to. 

All the more reason Eddie judges and dislikes anyone Buck dates. He’s totally justified. None of them get him and they don’t adequately appreciate him at all and Buck deserves all the love in the universe. At the very least, he deserves someone who will love him just as much and just as fiercely as Buck loves them. 

“Weren’t you ‘straight’ until Tommy?” Eddie asks. “Or— not that it was dependent on him, not that he did anything— but you thought you were straight until you realized you liked him. Right?” 

Buck looks at him, stares too hard at him for far too long and it makes goosebumps wash all over Eddie’s skin. The hair on the back of his neck prickles and swishing, churning flips through his stomach. 

“Yeah,” Buck answers quietly. “I don’t think that’s the case here though. Doesn’t matter. It’s not— It’s late. Too late. It’s really too late. We should sleep.”

Yeah. They should. Eddie has a long day of more packing to do tomorrow and another long distance tour with the realtor. Even if thoughts are whirling in his head. Too many thoughts. 

How does Buck know it’s unrequited? How does he know what he’s feeling now if he didn’t before? Did something change? How the hell would Tommy supposedly know if Buck didn’t know? 

How does Buck feel when he likes someone? 

How does anyone feel when they like someone? How do you know if you do? Is there supposed to be something you feel when you’re looking at someone beautiful? How would you know they’re beautiful if all you know about them is how they look? 

How do you feel anything for someone? Especially if you don’t know them? People say sex is better with someone you love, but is that more romanticized bullshit? Probably. Sex is overrated honestly. It’s fine. Mostly. Just. Not what everyone seems to say it is. Nothing earth shattering or life changing. Nothing all that intimate either. Not technically. It’s just distant, avoidant, using each other for a moment of relief. He and Shannon did it so they didn’t have to talk. When they didn’t want to talk or actually be close. They didn’t have to go on dates or bare their souls or anything. They could just take off some clothes. 

Isn’t that what everyone does? Isn’t that the difference between dating someone versus being friends with them? 

Is it supposed to be different? Is that why people like sex? Because it’s different for them? 

Does anyone actually feel the kinds of intense, fervent, passionate emotions that people make up stories about? Isn’t romance just another fantasy? Like fairy tale magic and otherworldly phenomena? Like dragons and unicorns and mythical creatures? It’s a nice fantasy, but still a fantasy. None of it is real. 

Love isn’t sex or attraction or beautiful people being beautiful. None of that is love. 

Love is sacrifice. Connection. It’s blood and battle and being torn apart. Giving up everything because there’s no alternative. Because you’re not whole anymore without the person you love. They’re part of you. So losing them is losing yourself. 

Is that all love is? Loss? 

Eddie reaches out and holds onto Buck’s shoulder. They should sleep. He’s tired, too. But there’s heaviness in his chest and a swirl of despair whirlpooling inside him. It’s small now, but it’s been growing and he needs to hold onto Buck. 

When it’s not enough to just grip his shoulder, Eddie lets his hand slide down until it’s again resting on Buck’s chest and he can gently rub back and forth a few times. He hopes it’s comforting. He hopes Buck knows he’s not alone. Eddie won’t let him be alone. Someone will love Buck the way he should be. 

A wave of envious aching crashes through Eddie’s chest and he swallows hard. Buck should be loved. Buck is loved. Maybe not the way he wants. But Eddie loves him. Every beat, every breath, every single shred of his soul holds love for Buck. It might not be enough, but it is there. Eddie would love him until Buck finds someone he wants who loves him properly. 

Eddie would love him after that, too. Even when Buck is happy and settled and doesn’t need him anymore. 

Buck takes Eddie’s hand and holds it tightly as he closes his eyes. He doesn’t turn back around. And he doesn’t let go. 

Eddie just wants to inch closer and hold tighter. 

There’s something faded, slipping away like tides and wet sand through his fingers. 

Why can’t he keep this?

Why can’t this be the answer? Why can’t Eddie love him the way he wants? Why can’t Buck love Eddie this way? Why can’t they be in love with each other? 

[bigfootsmom]

Tease tidbit Tuesday

I was tagged by the lovely and talented @loserdiaz, @devirnis, @smallandalmosthonest, @tizniz, @bidisasterevankinard

I have….started a new au. Girl dads bucktommy with transmasc buck getting to be a seahorse dad so content warning for trans pregnancy and mentions of labor. this au has bewitched me body and soul and I’m dragging @try-set-me-on-fire down with me <3 <3 so here’s a doodle of happy dads with their fresh baby (Bobby took the picture)

And a snippet! :3

When Eddie grabs Tommy by the crook of his good elbow, Tommy falters. He feels off balance, his stomach swooping and head spinning as he tries to keep up with Eddie’s rapid pace. “Eddie— wait, wait— what’s going on?”

Eddie stops, staring at Tommy before his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. “You don’t know? Fuck— of course you don’t know, shit.” Eddie smacks his forehead with the heel of his hand.

“Don’t know what?” Tommy can feel his stomach sinking, “Eddie, what don’t I know?”

“Buck is here at the hospital. He’s in labor.”

It feels like the world shifts under Tommy’s feet and no amount of hospital grippy socks will keep him from falling. He sucks in a shuddering breath, and then another when it feels like the first one doesn’t ever reach his lungs.

“Wh–what? But, but he was fine– he wasn’t–” The backs of Tommy’s knees hit the edge of the bed and he sways, only his white knuckle grip on the bed rail keeps him from crashing backward. His next breath comes in too quick, whistling between his teeth as his vision tunnels.

Tags <3

@usersiren, @honestlydarkprincess, @swiftietartt, @holdmygum, @morganofthefairies

@underwaterninja13, @father-salmon, @giddyupbuck, @monsterrae1, @bibuddie

@princessfbi, @mellaithwen, @homerforsure, @bisexual-buck, @maygrantgf

@boykisserbuckley, @loveyouanyway, @watchyourbuck, @eddiebabygirldiaz, @shyaudacity

And YOU if you’re reading this and want to post <3

[wikiangela]

tease tidbit tuesday

hiii, I haven't done one of these in a whiiile omg

i was very focused on winterfest but im back to my regular wips now, and there's a few 8x11 fics in the works - first, bucktommy 8x11 phone call lol

___

“God, Evan, you’re so adorable.”

[...]

"You still think so?" Buck asks teasingly, but his voice wavers and he bites his lip hard. He wants to thread carefully, this conversation feels big, like if he messes this up, he might never get another opportunity to fix it. And damn it, he wants to fix it.

"Yeah, of course. Why would that change?" Tommy asks so casually, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Well, a lot changed. I just assumed." Buck shrugs, even though Tommy can't see him.

"Hm." Tommy hums. "Maybe we both should stop assuming so much," he mutters quietly, almost under his breath, so quiet that if they weren't in silent rooms and his voice wasn't directly in Buck's ear, he might've missed it.

"Is that our problem? Assuming?" Buck flips onto his side, his phone between his cheek and his pillow. He feels restless. He wishes he could curl up under Tommy's arm, press his cheek to Tommy's chest, feel his heartbeat. He misses that so much.

___

no pressure tags (copying from the last one I did, if you want to be added or removed, pls lmk):

@dr-shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @watchyourbuck @diazpatcher @monsterrae1 @pirrusstuff @rogerzsteven @honestlydarkprincess @diazheartsbuckley @giddyupbuck @thewolvesof1998 @underwaterninja13 @your-catfish-friend @gaytommykinard @beyourownanchor6 @weewootruck @kirkaut @quillvice @doctorkinney @bucked-it-up @theotherbuckley @drcloyd @girlwonder-writes @dadbodbucky @loullaby @aringofsalt @actuallyitsellie @hippolotamus @diazsdimples @hyperfocusthusly @talktonytome @cornerofspace @tommybuckleys @kinard-buckley and anyone who wants to idk <3

[setmeatopthepyre]

Hostage [@118dailydrabble day 41] [part of antarct-fic | bucktommy | 118 words] [precedes this]

Lucy likes Tommy, she really does. He's a good guy, an excellent pilot. His gallows humor plays well with hers. Even better, he never objects to a risky rappel, encourages it, in fact, if it means he gets to try an obscure maneuver with a name like aft skid cobra. He holds his own at karaoke.

The problem is that Tommy is also a dramatic son of a bitch who would rather eat glass than admit he's struggling.

...unless he's had a drink or two.

Hungry Heart appears in the up next-box on screen. Lucy lunges.

She gets his arm. “Aaand you're done holding everyone hostage with Springsteen. Time to talk about feelings like a grown-up. C'mon.”

-

this drabble was made possible by @frogsinflannel (for sending me the kindest message ever and reminding me how fun writing tommy+lucy banter is) and @rcmclachlan's tommy is batshit insane actually post (that is 100% canon to me)