these are my main brain worms at the moment but uh, there's some other stuff floating around too! if you want to see more of any of them, this was originally a make me write prompt so you can send the emoji and i'll yeet something else out at you. the links will bring up all of the posts that have that tag. masterpost for the drabbles because tumblr has a thing against that many links.
if you want to ask about anything, feel free to send an ask or comment on the post — i love to chat and i love it even more when someone wants to know about my weird little ideas. :)
🚁 - we're crashing that helicopter, folks (bucktommy post-breakup)
☎️ - that was us (abby and tommy former fiancés au, find it on ao3)
💰- we provide... emergencies (meet tommy's bff eliot spencer)
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💖 Which of your fics is your pride and joy? 🍎What's something you learned while researching for a fic? ⏳If you could go back in time and tell your younger writer self something, what would it be?
emoji ask game
💖 Which of your fics is your pride and joy?
i know most people don't go here, but dark side of the morning, an old marvel exchange fic that's a bit of a rewrite of ca:tws imagining that maria was director of shield when the movie happened! come over to the maria/steve side of the mcu with me.
this was posted almost ten years ago and there's some stuff i would edit or tighten up or expand these days, but! i still love the premise and what i did with it.
🍎What's something you learned while researching for a fic?
i've learned a couple things but! the most recent thing i 'learned' was that i spent about ten minutes yesterday listening to the first fifteen seconds of money by pink floyd to try and decide the best way to onomatopoeia my way through the opening cash register sounds.
⏳If you could go back in time and tell your younger writer self something, what would it be?
you're gonna find typos the second you post things. people are always gonna dislike it, and if you're lucky they'll simply move on. delete the messages/comments and don't try to alter anything to please someone who already doesn't like it - you're not going to change their minds! everything you post is gonna have at least one person (that isn't you) who loves it, even if it takes them a few years to find it.
for gods sake, add a fic to ao3's anonymous collection if you're embarrassed by it or just want to remove it from your visible works instead of orphaning it - you never know if someone is going to leave a comment that is so nice it makes you cry and you want to respond and you can't. (also, these days you never know if you're gonna need to prove that it's yours at some point)
🙌What's a line or paragraph of yours that you're proud of?
oh man this is a tough one, please hold while i go check all my fic haha
well!! as soon as you asked i forgot every line i’ve ever written, but i think i really like the opening lines of inhale til your lungs get sore
"That does look worse from up here."
Tommy tensed, his hand tightening on his arm. He glanced sideways, wary of reacting too strongly around the Army. "What are you doing here?" he asked, his eyes drifting back to Evan.
"I mean. Dying," Bobby said dryly.
🤷♀️What's a fic you didn't expect to be popular, but really took off? (also asked by @stars-inthe-sky!)
zen and the art of helicopters; my tommy and athena besties fic. this was totally self indulgent and also not what i set out to write when i first started and i didn't think that anyone would want to read it! but apparently it scratched an itch for a lot of people :D (a super good reminder to write for yourself first of all and for your three friends next)
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"You know what this means," Howie said, and Tommy looked up from the game of Solitaire he'd laid out on the table.
"What what means?" Tommy asked.
Howie sank into the chair across from him. They did this now, sometimes, since Tommy had come back to work. He'd only spent ten days off; the doctors at the hospital said that he could probably return to light duty and Gerrard took that careful permission and ran with it.
Sal and Eli and Howie had run interference for another week so that Tommy really was on light duty, and not hauling hundreds of pounds of rescues around.
"Life debt, my dude," Howie continued, snapping his gum. He flipped a granola bar towards Tommy, who caught it automatically. "Ooh, move that five."
Tommy did. "What about a life debt?"
"I saved your life, man, that means you owe me." Howie winked.
"Great, what do you want?"
"No, Tommy, I can't collect on the life debt right away. Think about it."
He arched an eyebrow.
"The narrative demands that I only call in the life debt when it's for something satisfying," Howie pressed, his grin widening. "Come on, you've watched the same movies that I have."
Tommy glanced over his shoulder. "I might have called it in to ask me to get Sal to stop throwing that ridiculous nickname around, but whatever floats your boat, Howie."
"Hey, that was a great rescue, and it's not like it's going to stick. None of you have a nickname around here."
"And now you're going to be stuck with it forever," Tommy said dryly. He arched an eyebrow at the incredulous look Howie shot him. "You've watched the same movies I have," he reminded him. "The scrappy comic relief always has a nickname."
"Why am I the scrappy comic relief?" Howie complained easily, reaching across the table and moving a seven onto the pile Tommy was working on.
"Because you're smaller than the rest of us and you actually know how to make a joke." Tommy flicked Howie's hand away, turning over a new card. Two. He added it to the ace of spaces.
"Does that make you the lead? Because I gotta say, that's some fat head talk."
Tommy snorted. "If you're right about the life debt, I guess that makes me a supporting character. I'll pop up sometime down the line, save the day, and then…" he shrugged. "Fly off into the sunset while you celebrate on screen."
"Oh, you learned how to fly sometime between this conversation and the calling in of the life debt?" Howie teased. "Sounds like you're angling for the hero treatment."
"I already know how to fly," Tommy gave him a look. "Not everyone in the Army stays on the ground, Howie."
"Scuse the hell outta me, Kinard." Howie laughed brightly. "So you fly, and you're a firefighter?"
"The bureaucracy around flying commercially is murder." Tommy winked at him. "I like this better."
"So if I'm second billing, and you're a guest…" Howie peered over the railing, looking down across the apparatus floor. "Who's the star of this? God, I hope it's not Ge—"
"No, he'd be the antagonist." Tommy tapped his fingers against the table, thinking. "We must still be in the setup. When the antagonist gets kicked out, the lead will show up. Right now we're just a sort of solid ensemble."
"Setup. You think we're… what, in a flashback?"
Tommy glanced around, making sure there was no sign of their captain. "Would you want to watch multiple seasons of everyone being afraid of a guy like Gerrard?"
"Seasons?!" Howie leaned forward, delighted. "You think we're in a television show, not a movie."
"We can hope," Tommy said dryly. "Otherwise it doesn't say a lot for our chances of longevity or good health."
"Wow, you're a real downer," Howie teased him, snapping his gum again. "You always go through life expecting something bad is gonna happen to you?"
"Firefighter," Tommy reminded him. "Bad things always happen around us, remember?"
"Nah," Howie braced his hands against the table, standing up. "This is going to be a great show. Happy endings all around. Unless Sal really does punch Gerrard in the face, then he's getting kicked out of the ensemble."
"We also need a woman on the team," Tommy argued. "No one wants to watch a bunch of mostly white dudes. We're boring."
Howie snickered. "Speak for yourself, I'm the scrappy comic relief. I'm always entertaining."
"I look forward to your call in the next…" Tommy checked his watch dramatically. "Ten to fifteen business years."
"Don't pretend this is getting you out of being friends with me until then," Howie pointed at him, trying to look threatening. "We have plans for Oktoberfest, you weird craft beer loving hippy."
"Sorry I've taught your palate that PBR is shit," Tommy shot back, laughing.
i've been tagged in a few writing games! turns out that while i was away from the dash i was writing a whole lot but not posting it. this isn't exactly a wip but hopefully it entertains you :) @ambernotember @beanarie @geddyqueer @leashybebes @rcmclachlan @trombonechurchill
"Hey, what are you watching?" Evan asked, claiming the other side of Tommy's couch. He swung his feet into Tommy's lap and immediately went boneless. Tommy laughed, squeezing his ankle gently.
"The news," Tommy said, prepared for the jokes about being an old man that were sure to follow. Hell, Howie had made fun of him for reading the paper at the station and Tommy was younger than him. "They're in the middle of the a story about all the events that are happening in town this summer. It's a bit of a fluff piece for Taylor, but I guess that city council can only have so many scandals in a week."
He grinned over at Evan, pausing when Evan's expression dropped.
"Taylor… Kelly?" Evan asked, his voice arcing up. Tommy could hear the question mark.
"Yeah. I don't know her personally — she came by Harbor a few years ago for a story, but she didn't want to take a ride when Melton offered it to her. Her cameraman did though, got some nice footage for their story." He'd hooked Bret up with a friend who did sunset tours at the end of the flight — not bad for a day's work.
"Yeah, she wouldn't have set foot in a helicopter," Evan said thoughtfully, picking at a loose thread on his sweatpants.
"You do know her personally," Tommy hazarded a guess. That was an awfully familiar way of talking about someone you only knew through a screen.
"We met five years ago when her traffic helicopter crashed in the middle of a football field," Evan said, slowly. "She did a story on the 118 after that. The heroes that saved Channel 8, et cetera."
"That explains not wanting a ride," Tommy agreed wryly. "Crashes can take the shine off of flying for sure." He was lucky that it never had for him. The idea of never getting in the air again didn't sit right with him.
He could picture exactly why Taylor had wanted to do a story on the 118. Evan, swinging to the rescue (part of him could hear Sal bitching about the new kid taking his job and all the glory), Hen and Chim as the wise cracking old-timers, Bobby the closed off captain, Eddie the cute single dad — yeah. There would have been half a dozen stories that she could have done on them, all of them sure to draw eyes and ratings.
"She used us to get off the traffic beat and back into investigative journalism. Or — back into it on screen, she'd still been writing stories, she just wasn't allowed to be the one breaking them on screen."
"It's nice that you have friends outside the 118," Tommy teased him gently.
"We're not friends," Evan said, tensing.
"Okay," Tommy shrugged, reaching for the remote. "You want me to change the channel? I'm not actually picky where I get my news."
"Uh. We should probably…"
"Uh-oh," Tommy kept his voice light. He'd had enough conversations that started this way that he could guess where it was headed. Evan was, Tommy bet, about to admit that he only watched Channel 8 because Taylor was hot. "Don't tell me, you dated."
"We hooked up first. We dated a few years later," Evan tapped his fingers against his thigh, looking away from Tommy.
Tommy blinked. He'd been joking — mostly — when he said it, but he glanced at the television again, catching a glimpse of Taylor before the camera cut away to a shot of downtown. She was beautiful. And smart. And he could see why Evan would be attracted to her. "I never assumed you never dated anyone," he said carefully, not wanting to scare Evan off from finishing whatever thought he was having.
Evan laughed, the sound dying off when he looked back at Tommy. "That might have been my worst breakup," he offered hesitantly. "I wasn't very nice to her, near the end."
Tommy thought back to the string of women he'd dated, some seriously and some not, before he'd finally come out. "Evan, I'm sure you were nicer than you thought you were," he said. Even the basketball incident with Eddie had been an accident; Tommy couldn't see Evan doing anything like that on purpose.
"I really wasn't," Evan said.
Tommy winced, rubbing his thumb over Evan's ankle. That was a voice full of recrimination with just a hint of self-hatred. Tommy was familiar; he'd heard it for almost twenty years inside his own head.
"We were having problems and instead of talking to her about them, I… asked her to move in. And it was only after she'd broken her lease and had no other options that I actually… told her what was going on."
"What happened?"
"I told her I'd kissed someone else," Evan's eyes darted across the room as he refused to make eye contact with Tommy. "Don't get me wrong — I really liked Taylor. Like, more than most of the people I've dated since I moved to LA. The kiss didn't mean anything, we were both drinking and it was — and I wasn't going to bring it up at all, but I just kept feeling so—"
"Guilty," Tommy offered, his voice quiet. He was intimately familiar with that particular emotion.
"Yeah. About keeping it from her." Evan sighed heavily. "I kind of blew that up. We haven't talked since she left. I don't even know if she knows how much I regret it."
"You could always tell her now," Tommy suggested. "I hear everyone likes it when they get an honest apology."
"Maybe. Maybe it's been too long," Evan frowned, looking up at Tommy. "What about you? What's the worst thing you did in a relationship?"
Tommy hummed, watching Evan carefully. Now might be a good time to bring up Abby — hey, don't worry, we've all fucked up, some of us worse than others — but he didn't want to step all over Evan's confession and make it about himself. He could bring it up another time.
"Oh, dating women. Definitely," he said, honest and teasing all at the same time. Evan had set him up with a easy way to redirect the conversation, and Tommy was nothing if not obliging. "Worst thing I ever did." Tommy smiled, watching as Evan's eyes regained some of their sparkle when he smiled back.
"I want you to move in with me."
"We were having problems and instead of talking to her about them, I… asked her to move in." Tommy's heart dropped like a fucking rock, all the way through his stomach, down through the floor, into the parking garage. He couldn't have known, last week, that his Abby was also — fuck, Evan's Abby. He hadn't even known that girlfriend's name when Evan had told him stories about her.
Maybe he should have connected the dots, but it wasn't as if mothers with Alzheimer's were rare. And there were millions of women in Los Angeles.
"Why be apart when we can be together?"
Tommy wasn't even sure what he was saying back to Evan. "It was only after she'd broken her lease and had no other options that I actually… told her what was going on." Tommy had a fucking house. He wasn't going to put it on the market, but — but what if he did move in with Evan? Then what?
How long would it be until Evan admitted that they were having problems? Would it be before or after Tommy found someone to rent his house? God, would he get stuck with some weird college kids living in his guest room? Would he finally bite the bullet on the idea of an apartment over the garage, just so he didn't have to throw anyone out in the middle of the school year?
Ugh, a forty year old landlord living over his own garage. Pathetic.
"The kiss didn't mean anything, and I wasn't going to bring it up at all, but I just kept feeling so— guilty. About keeping it from her." At least Tommy knew there was no way that Evan had kissed someone else; they'd been glued to each other's sides for the last three months (six months), but that didn't mean that he hadn't been looking somewhere else.
He hated that his thoughts immediately jumped to Evan's coworkers. Hen was out, and Howie was out. If it had been Bobby or Athena, Evan wouldn't be alive to have this conversation with him. Eddie was straight. Stevens was hopeless.
Evan had texted earlier, letting Tommy know that he was going over to dispatch to see Maddie for lunch. Was it one of her coworkers? Why was he still thinking about this?
"…Are you breaking up with me?"
Was he? What had Tommy said? His fingers felt numb. He thought back, trying to separate out what he'd been saying and what he'd been remembering. "I guess so." Had he taken too long to answer? Not long enough? "I'll see you around, Buck."
if i dust up the lab explosion so everything is in chronological order (because of the eddie and maddie additions), are you guys gonna hate me for making you sad again if i put it on ao3
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"You know what this means," Howie said, and Tommy looked up from the game of Solitaire he'd laid out on the table.
"What what means?" Tommy asked.
Howie sank into the chair across from him. They did this now, sometimes, since Tommy had come back to work. He'd only spent ten days off; the doctors at the hospital said that he could probably return to light duty and Gerrard took that careful permission and ran with it.
Sal and Eli and Howie had run interference for another week so that Tommy really was on light duty, and not hauling hundreds of pounds of rescues around.
"Life debt, my dude," Howie continued, snapping his gum. He flipped a granola bar towards Tommy, who caught it automatically. "Ooh, move that five."
Tommy did. "What about a life debt?"
"I saved your life, man, that means you owe me." Howie winked.
"Great, what do you want?"
"No, Tommy, I can't collect on the life debt right away. Think about it."
He arched an eyebrow.
"The narrative demands that I only call in the life debt when it's for something satisfying," Howie pressed, his grin widening. "Come on, you've watched the same movies that I have."
Tommy glanced over his shoulder. "I might have called it in to ask me to get Sal to stop throwing that ridiculous nickname around, but whatever floats your boat, Howie."
"Hey, that was a great rescue, and it's not like it's going to stick. None of you have a nickname around here."
"And now you're going to be stuck with it forever," Tommy said dryly. He arched an eyebrow at the incredulous look Howie shot him. "You've watched the same movies I have," he reminded him. "The scrappy comic relief always has a nickname."
"Why am I the scrappy comic relief?" Howie complained easily, reaching across the table and moving a seven onto the pile Tommy was working on.
"Because you're smaller than the rest of us and you actually know how to make a joke." Tommy flicked Howie's hand away, turning over a new card. Two. He added it to the ace of spaces.
"Does that make you the lead? Because I gotta say, that's some fat head talk."
Tommy snorted. "If you're right about the life debt, I guess that makes me a supporting character. I'll pop up sometime down the line, save the day, and then…" he shrugged. "Fly off into the sunset while you celebrate on screen."
"Oh, you learned how to fly sometime between this conversation and the calling in of the life debt?" Howie teased. "Sounds like you're angling for the hero treatment."
"I already know how to fly," Tommy gave him a look. "Not everyone in the Army stays on the ground, Howie."
"Scuse the hell outta me, Kinard." Howie laughed brightly. "So you fly, and you're a firefighter?"
"The bureaucracy around flying commercially is murder." Tommy winked at him. "I like this better."
"So if I'm second billing, and you're a guest…" Howie peered over the railing, looking down across the apparatus floor. "Who's the star of this? God, I hope it's not Ge—"
"No, he'd be the antagonist." Tommy tapped his fingers against the table, thinking. "We must still be in the setup. When the antagonist gets kicked out, the lead will show up. Right now we're just a sort of solid ensemble."
"Setup. You think we're… what, in a flashback?"
Tommy glanced around, making sure there was no sign of their captain. "Would you want to watch multiple seasons of everyone being afraid of a guy like Gerrard?"
"Seasons?!" Howie leaned forward, delighted. "You think we're in a television show, not a movie."
"We can hope," Tommy said dryly. "Otherwise it doesn't say a lot for our chances of longevity or good health."
"Wow, you're a real downer," Howie teased him, snapping his gum again. "You always go through life expecting something bad is gonna happen to you?"
"Firefighter," Tommy reminded him. "Bad things always happen around us, remember?"
"Nah," Howie braced his hands against the table, standing up. "This is going to be a great show. Happy endings all around. Unless Sal really does punch Gerrard in the face, then he's getting kicked out of the ensemble."
"We also need a woman on the team," Tommy argued. "No one wants to watch a bunch of mostly white dudes. We're boring."
Howie snickered. "Speak for yourself, I'm the scrappy comic relief. I'm always entertaining."
"I look forward to your call in the next…" Tommy checked his watch dramatically. "Ten to fifteen business years."
"Don't pretend this is getting you out of being friends with me until then," Howie pointed at him, trying to look threatening. "We have plans for Oktoberfest, you weird craft beer loving hippy."
"Sorry I've taught your palate that PBR is shit," Tommy shot back, laughing.
i've been tagged in a few writing games! turns out that while i was away from the dash i was writing a whole lot but not posting it. this isn't exactly a wip but hopefully it entertains you :) @ambernotember @beanarie @geddyqueer @leashybebes @rcmclachlan @trombonechurchill
"Hey, what are you watching?" Evan asked, claiming the other side of Tommy's couch. He swung his feet into Tommy's lap and immediately went boneless. Tommy laughed, squeezing his ankle gently.
"The news," Tommy said, prepared for the jokes about being an old man that were sure to follow. Hell, Howie had made fun of him for reading the paper at the station and Tommy was younger than him. "They're in the middle of the a story about all the events that are happening in town this summer. It's a bit of a fluff piece for Taylor, but I guess that city council can only have so many scandals in a week."
He grinned over at Evan, pausing when Evan's expression dropped.
"Taylor… Kelly?" Evan asked, his voice arcing up. Tommy could hear the question mark.
"Yeah. I don't know her personally — she came by Harbor a few years ago for a story, but she didn't want to take a ride when Melton offered it to her. Her cameraman did though, got some nice footage for their story." He'd hooked Bret up with a friend who did sunset tours at the end of the flight — not bad for a day's work.
"Yeah, she wouldn't have set foot in a helicopter," Evan said thoughtfully, picking at a loose thread on his sweatpants.
"You do know her personally," Tommy hazarded a guess. That was an awfully familiar way of talking about someone you only knew through a screen.
"We met five years ago when her traffic helicopter crashed in the middle of a football field," Evan said, slowly. "She did a story on the 118 after that. The heroes that saved Channel 8, et cetera."
"That explains not wanting a ride," Tommy agreed wryly. "Crashes can take the shine off of flying for sure." He was lucky that it never had for him. The idea of never getting in the air again didn't sit right with him.
He could picture exactly why Taylor had wanted to do a story on the 118. Evan, swinging to the rescue (part of him could hear Sal bitching about the new kid taking his job and all the glory), Hen and Chim as the wise cracking old-timers, Bobby the closed off captain, Eddie the cute single dad — yeah. There would have been half a dozen stories that she could have done on them, all of them sure to draw eyes and ratings.
"She used us to get off the traffic beat and back into investigative journalism. Or — back into it on screen, she'd still been writing stories, she just wasn't allowed to be the one breaking them on screen."
"It's nice that you have friends outside the 118," Tommy teased him gently.
"We're not friends," Evan said, tensing.
"Okay," Tommy shrugged, reaching for the remote. "You want me to change the channel? I'm not actually picky where I get my news."
"Uh. We should probably…"
"Uh-oh," Tommy kept his voice light. He'd had enough conversations that started this way that he could guess where it was headed. Evan was, Tommy bet, about to admit that he only watched Channel 8 because Taylor was hot. "Don't tell me, you dated."
"We hooked up first. We dated a few years later," Evan tapped his fingers against his thigh, looking away from Tommy.
Tommy blinked. He'd been joking — mostly — when he said it, but he glanced at the television again, catching a glimpse of Taylor before the camera cut away to a shot of downtown. She was beautiful. And smart. And he could see why Evan would be attracted to her. "I never assumed you never dated anyone," he said carefully, not wanting to scare Evan off from finishing whatever thought he was having.
Evan laughed, the sound dying off when he looked back at Tommy. "That might have been my worst breakup," he offered hesitantly. "I wasn't very nice to her, near the end."
Tommy thought back to the string of women he'd dated, some seriously and some not, before he'd finally come out. "Evan, I'm sure you were nicer than you thought you were," he said. Even the basketball incident with Eddie had been an accident; Tommy couldn't see Evan doing anything like that on purpose.
"I really wasn't," Evan said.
Tommy winced, rubbing his thumb over Evan's ankle. That was a voice full of recrimination with just a hint of self-hatred. Tommy was familiar; he'd heard it for almost twenty years inside his own head.
"We were having problems and instead of talking to her about them, I… asked her to move in. And it was only after she'd broken her lease and had no other options that I actually… told her what was going on."
"What happened?"
"I told her I'd kissed someone else," Evan's eyes darted across the room as he refused to make eye contact with Tommy. "Don't get me wrong — I really liked Taylor. Like, more than most of the people I've dated since I moved to LA. The kiss didn't mean anything, we were both drinking and it was — and I wasn't going to bring it up at all, but I just kept feeling so—"
"Guilty," Tommy offered, his voice quiet. He was intimately familiar with that particular emotion.
"Yeah. About keeping it from her." Evan sighed heavily. "I kind of blew that up. We haven't talked since she left. I don't even know if she knows how much I regret it."
"You could always tell her now," Tommy suggested. "I hear everyone likes it when they get an honest apology."
"Maybe. Maybe it's been too long," Evan frowned, looking up at Tommy. "What about you? What's the worst thing you did in a relationship?"
Tommy hummed, watching Evan carefully. Now might be a good time to bring up Abby — hey, don't worry, we've all fucked up, some of us worse than others — but he didn't want to step all over Evan's confession and make it about himself. He could bring it up another time.
"Oh, dating women. Definitely," he said, honest and teasing all at the same time. Evan had set him up with a easy way to redirect the conversation, and Tommy was nothing if not obliging. "Worst thing I ever did." Tommy smiled, watching as Evan's eyes regained some of their sparkle when he smiled back.
"I want you to move in with me."
"We were having problems and instead of talking to her about them, I… asked her to move in." Tommy's heart dropped like a fucking rock, all the way through his stomach, down through the floor, into the parking garage. He couldn't have known, last week, that his Abby was also — fuck, Evan's Abby. He hadn't even known that girlfriend's name when Evan had told him stories about her.
Maybe he should have connected the dots, but it wasn't as if mothers with Alzheimer's were rare. And there were millions of women in Los Angeles.
"Why be apart when we can be together?"
Tommy wasn't even sure what he was saying back to Evan. "It was only after she'd broken her lease and had no other options that I actually… told her what was going on." Tommy had a fucking house. He wasn't going to put it on the market, but — but what if he did move in with Evan? Then what?
How long would it be until Evan admitted that they were having problems? Would it be before or after Tommy found someone to rent his house? God, would he get stuck with some weird college kids living in his guest room? Would he finally bite the bullet on the idea of an apartment over the garage, just so he didn't have to throw anyone out in the middle of the school year?
Ugh, a forty year old landlord living over his own garage. Pathetic.
"The kiss didn't mean anything, and I wasn't going to bring it up at all, but I just kept feeling so— guilty. About keeping it from her." At least Tommy knew there was no way that Evan had kissed someone else; they'd been glued to each other's sides for the last three months (six months), but that didn't mean that he hadn't been looking somewhere else.
He hated that his thoughts immediately jumped to Evan's coworkers. Hen was out, and Howie was out. If it had been Bobby or Athena, Evan wouldn't be alive to have this conversation with him. Eddie was straight. Stevens was hopeless.
Evan had texted earlier, letting Tommy know that he was going over to dispatch to see Maddie for lunch. Was it one of her coworkers? Why was he still thinking about this?
"…Are you breaking up with me?"
Was he? What had Tommy said? His fingers felt numb. He thought back, trying to separate out what he'd been saying and what he'd been remembering. "I guess so." Had he taken too long to answer? Not long enough? "I'll see you around, Buck."
listen @ambernotember is right about the post-date posting on ao3 but i am also. you know. a fan of crazy behaviour. we’ll see if i can stop myself from doing that 😂😂😂
something really cool about checking your ao3 stats (when you’re in the bucktommy fandom) and getting to see your fic get 118 and 217 hits — i have yet to check in in time for the 911 hits (it’s always 910 or 915, lmfao) one day!! i’ll have to keep a better eye on my next couple fics.
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