#accommodate websites

[stars-inthe-sky]

if there's solid ground below

It's been five years, but I wrote a whole fic this week thanks in no small part to the singular @iphyslitterator!

[Cross-posted to AO3]

“H—hey, Tommy?”

Tommy startles and bangs his head on the hood of his truck, recovering fast enough that none of the oil he was nearly done changing spilled but not so fast that it would have escaped Evan’s notice. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just surprised,” he says, grabbing for a spare rag to wipe his hands on. “Hi.”

“Got a sec?” Evan rocks onto the balls of his feet and back again, hands shoved deep in the pockets of a hoodie that, in southern California in May, it should really be too warm for. But he runs cold, and the layers always have the added bonus of making Tommy want to rip them off in some kind of Pavlovian response.

Had. Last summer, they’d had that effect. This summer was shaping up differently.

Evan tilts his head, a little quizzical, and Tommy realizes he’s been frozen in place for a few beats too long, dazedly dragging the rag between his fingers.

“Sorry, yeah, go ahead.” He glances down at the car, which hasn’t moved, then back at Evan, who’s still rocking but who looks, Tommy’s now realizing, noticeably lighter than he has in a while—certainly since the funeral, but maybe even more so than that night in the bar all those weeks ago. His smile is far too small, but it’s there. “Although if you need another helicopter, I’m gonna have to start charging you at some point.”

“That’s okay, I heard your fees are competitive,” he chirps, and if his grin isn’t yet lethal, it’s shifted to shit-eating. Which, for Tommy, is lethal anyway, and Evan knows it. “But no, I just…just wanted to talk this time. For real, for once.”

Oh. “Okay…?”

“You can keep doing whatever you were doing; I know you like to have something to do with your hands.”

“Uh, thanks.” He stuffs the rag in the back pocket of his jeans and fishes the oil canister out of his car’s innards. This might be easier without eye contact. “What’s up?”

“I’m taking a sabbatical from the LAFD,” Evan says. Tommy freezes again, more of a twitch than a full stop, and makes himself continue the actual task at hand. “Three months. Mostly thanks to an insane amount of unused PTO, because I realized I kinda haven’t taken a vacation that wasn’t just medical leave in like…ever. And I need a break, you know, after everything? Like, I spent a bunch of my twenties driving around, odd jobs and stuff, and the world is—is so much bigger than the firehouse, or this city, and…yeah.  I think I need that space for a bit. Just got it approved today. And then I came here.”

He pauses for breath, and Tommy stares unseeing at some perfectly intact wiring he could reconnect by touch alone if asked. “That’s great they’re letting you do that, Evan. I’m sure it’ll be good for you. How’d the others take it?”

There’s a little sigh. “I haven’t told them yet. Battalion chief said I’d always have a job to come back to, but they couldn’t hold my spot indefinitely. Depends on the new captain and how they want to staff up. Makes sense, obviously, so.” His sniffle is nearly inaudible, but Tommy’s never been able to tune out Evan’s frequency.

He gives up on the car, closing the hood with a quiet click and resuming with the rag, even though his hands aren’t especially dirty. “Never thought you’d voluntarily leave the 118.”

“I know, right?” Evan’s mouth twitches, and it’s not quite a smile now, but there’s something genuine growing back. “I mean, I guess I might not be, but. Things change, and it’s…time, maybe. I’m doing this, in any case. I—I—I just need to clear my head for a while. Go visit Minnesota, never been there, but then…I don’t know, maybe touch the Atlantic Ocean again. Camp out in some national parks. Go see the sky in Montana—it’s so big, Tommy, I’ve never seen anything like it, not since those years, and the last couple of months…it’s like the smog is just in everything right now, you know?”

Tommy nods. He can relate, despite how often he gets to soar above the chokehold of Los Angeles; smoke is smoke, and heat still rises. “I get it. So…this is goodbye, then?” He swallows, bites his lip, stares down at his fingers and the rag still entwined in them.

“No!” Evan leans forward for a breath, arm lifting, but he seems to stop himself, like he’s remembering they don’t know where they stand with each other, if he’s allowed to grab Tommy’s shoulder. “No, no, I’m coming back. LA is still home, my—my stuff’s going into a storage unit next week, my sister and my niece are here, and the new baby—the job—no, yeah, I’m coming back.”

“That’s good,” Tommy muses. “So…”

“So, I wanted to ask—I—I—I’m asking if you’d maybe be up for thinking about coming with me.”

Tommy freezes so suddenly, and so thoroughly, that the rag drops to the ground. “You—you’re going on a three-month road trip to get away from it all, and you want me to come with you?”

“Yeah, I do,” Evan says softly, surely, ducking his head in that bashful way he pretends not to know is so damn effective. “I need a break from everything, and everyone—but you, you’re not everyone. I meant what I said about being together, before. I still mean it.” Tommy feels both arms drop to his sides, heavy and limp like emptied hoses, and the air jerks out of his lungs as his throat closes tight.

Evan plows ahead. “I—if—if you don’t want to, or you can’t swing it with work, or whatever—I get it, that’s why I’m asking and not—not telling you what to do. I don’t—even if you don’t come, I’d wait. And, and text or call, maybe? If you wanted to? Even if it’s just as friends, my life is always better when you’re in it. Kinda hoping that goes both ways here.”

Tommy croaks, “And when you get tired of me before we hit Reno?”

“I won’t,” he says, no hesitation. Tommy’s slack face must do something, because he repeats, “Tommy, I won’t. I won’t. I just want time with you, more time, all the time. I want to try again, so, so bad. And if we fight, we can talk, and not just think the worst, and keep going, be—because I want to eat crappy gas station food with you and not think about the inside of a gym for weeks. I want to drive out somewhere where it feels like we’re the only people on the planet, and fuck in the back of your truck, and then figure out a map that’s older than either of us because there’s no cell service. Maybe rent a chopper in Montana so we can see that sky up close—there’s, there’s so many stars, and you’re the��only person I’d want to see them with like that. I want to be locked in a moving vehicle with you all day, except for bathroom stops, and see your face when you realize it’s been 16 hours and we still have more to talk about, and we’ll just keep going, because I’m never gonna get tired of you.”

He pauses and swallows thickly, and Tommy can’t look away. For all that Evan Buckley wears his heart on his sleeve so easily for anyone to see, actually opening it up and offering to hand it over to someone else—that’s still work. “So—that’s what I came to say. That’s what I want. J—just think about it. No rush, I’m not—I’ll wait. If it’s what you want. You…you get to want things, too. So. Yeah.”

Evan nods to himself, rubs the back of his neck, and turns to walk back to his car, parked on the street. Tommy has to move, has to say something, but the soles of his boots are melting, fused to the cement of the driveway, his throat is still closed, and Evan—Evan is walking away.

Tommy wants things, too.

He forces a breath, in and out, on a four-count, licks his lips, and asks, “When do we leave?”

Evan radiates a warmth that scatters out, tangible and visible like a sunrise before he even turns around, beaming. “I was thinking a few weeks after the baby comes, but—but—yeah?”

“Yeah, I, uh, I could chase some stars over the Rockies. With you.” Tommy’s insides unknot, and the life rushes back into his limbs. “And the rest, too. I noticed it’s my truck in this scenario?”

Suddenly Evan is in front of him, closer than they’d managed even that morning after, pressed gently against him from chest to knees, arms winding around his waist. “Much more cargo space. Very practical. And I kinda thought you might be in the same boat, you know, with the unused vacation. Maybe enough seniority to hang onto your spot.”

“Probably, yeah, they generally…” He doesn’t even know how that sentence might have ended, has rarely thought about anything more than a long weekend away, but then Evan’s kissing him, deep and slow and sweet like they might already be the only people on the planet. His warmth flashes over through Tommy, nerve by nerve, until he’s lit up and burning, flammable in places he’d spent months trying to forget this man could expose.

When Evan pulls back, it’s with Tommy’s face between his hands, his relief and hope palpable. Like life might go on, like the world might really be bigger, could even be better, sometimes, than it had been.

“Let’s go,” he whispers, so close and so quiet that Tommy can feel each syllable rumble against his skin, tires steady on a gravel road away from this scene and toward the next.

[rebisrot]

i've struggled with articulating this thought for awhile but i really do feel that when people write about a hypothetical non-augmented bashir they have this habit of giving him the most palatable form of mental disability they can. and i get why in a way? it's hard to write about disability, especially one that, based on what little we know about it, greatly affected julian's quality of life. you want to say that he would have a good and fulfilling life without the augments, so you sand off what may disable him from being fully independent, what may disable him from being at ds9 in the first place, what may just disable him, and you call it a day. because otherwise we have to examine the fact that he may not have the same position in life and that the augments did allow for certain things and you don't want to be mistaken as saying he was "better off" with them. but the thing about disability is that it disables. my intent is not at all to say that he couldn't have these things or that he couldn't have a good and fulfilling life, just that i often find there is reluctance to honestly engage with the hardships his non-augmented life would have. regardless of what life he would have had, what his parents did to him was fucked up. engaging with aspects of disability that make you uncomfortable is how you grow to understand people better. anyway it feels amiss to talk about disability and understanding it and not point you towards something so go watch pressing buttons (short film) and crip camp.

[ceaselessims]

wait wait wait does harlan block people who draw shippy art on here ? and the fandom has a specific tag so he can avoid seeing it ? i'm sorry but if that's true that's the funniest thing i've ever heard

[pocket-size-cthulhu]

Call me cynical, but please remember that your employer is not your friend.

You may have friends at work, but your employer, the entity, is not your friend. Your relationship is, at best, transactional; at worst, it's predatory and exploitive. Your job serves profit and will always prioritize that over everything else.

No job should be treated as the exception to this. That's not to say that no job will ever treat you well; it is only to say that, if you're convinced that Your Job Is Different, you're already in a position to be exploited.

Stay wary. Know your rights as a worker. Keep your mouth shut about most things. Be grateful for a job that doesn't exploit you but never get too comfortable, no matter how many employee resource groups, mental health days, catered lunches or anything else they provide. Your employer is not your friend.

[darkwood-sleddog]

lmao. i had emailed the CDC with some very nuanced questions last night about importation from Canada and the potential future of containment agreements and they are obviously getting a barrage of emails bc they sent me the most formulaic response i've gotten in a hot second with the only humanity in it being the "apologies for your frustration", and i emailed back and asked for actual answers to my questions.

i'm going to be contacting me congressional rep about this for SURE.

[tired-fandom-ndn]

I will not start discourse. Discourse is the notifications killer. This blog is no longer for discourse. I will sit quietly and grind my teeth instead of starting discourse.

[amber-angel]

I just saw a post asking if Hickey was right in the episode where he chained Abed to a filing cabinet and most of the replies were yesses. I'm deleting reddit

[raceweek]

is it true that max (well not necessarily him but like, his entourage) flies in supporters and that's why the orange army is so noticeable?? i was listening to a french podcast ("les fous du volant") which is attached to eurosport so it seems more or less legit and they were discussing it in the last episode and i was like :o like, it really took me by surprise but i guess it makes sense from a marketing and branding perspective.

i fear i cannot help you here my love

edit: check the replies b x

[ryderdire]

Just cried over Math for the first time in like 6 years so that’s where I’m at

[raychleadele]

Bought new pad inserts for my cheap bras recently and since I have huge tracts of land, the largest size I found seems not quite large enough…and oddly pointy? And I feel like my breasts look strangely shaped now, and maybe it’s not noticeable to other people, but from my top down view they’re wrong. And no matter how much I adjust the placement of the padding, it never seems quite right and I’ve never been so conscious of the shape of this part of my body. And as someone who’s never really experienced it, it just occurred to me, is this what body dysmorphia feels like?

[devilsskettle]

i guess i’m just always surprised at other people’s lack of adaptability and poise in less than ideal situations

[sktthemes1]

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[moonlitfrogs]

every time a mental health and/or disability service is locked behind a phone call an angel loses its wings

[gaytravelinfo]

Grand Beach Hotel Surfside - Florida

Grand Beach Hotel Surfside | 9449 Collins Avenue | Surfside, FL 33154 | 1-855-652-8666 Oceanfront hotel: Accommodations at our oceanfront hotel provide views of the Atlantic Ocean and long white beach, or sunset over Miami which are simply spectacular. Families can also choose from a variety of 2 bedroom suites or connecting rooms for their vacation.  Amenities: Indulge in the wide array of…

[artdivin]