name: sunny tumblr: @buddiediner ao3: buddiefistbumps (thesweetsun) how long have you been writing buddie?: about 9-10 months what was your first buddie fic?: https://archiveofourown.org/works/73915771 what's your most recent buddie fic?: https://www.tumblr.com/buddiediner/820542570687070208/eddiebuddie-birthday-fic-and-since-canon-can-say (i keep forgetting to post it on ao3) what's a lesson that you've learned from writing?: sometimes stepping away from a wip and then going back later on(a day, a week, a month whatever) with fresh eyes is the best thing for the fic and yourself what advice would you give to someone who's just starting to write fic?: it doesn’t matter if other people like your fics as long as YOU like your fics what tropes/tags can you never get enough of (#MoreCake)?: amnesia, different first meeting, fics where eddie goes with buck to hershey or buck goes with eddie to texas are so special to me (im actually writing one right now!!) share five of your favorite buddie fics!:

Market Day by inkinmyheartandonthepage (buddie but buck is a beekeeper with a daughter. this whole series is one of my comfort reads)

featherlight by coldbam (eddie loving birds and buck loving eddie yayy)

Beneath The Same Blue Sky by ItsBuckleyTime (buddie falling in love in a quaint coastal town)

It’s where I belong by Superheronerd_1 (werewolf eddie and buck being horny about it)

rated e | 9k | buddie | tipsy bar blowjobs, crop top eddie

For what it's worth, Buck's blaming May for this. Completely and whole-heartedly. It's her fault for throwing her end-of-the-semester party at the country western bar that opened a few months ago that she's been dying to go to, and it's her fault that she practically begged everyone to dress in theme. It's her fault that Buck outed himself (again) and his fruitless, long-term, definitely unrequited crush on Eddie at Bachelor-turned-Love Island night last week, and it's especially her fault that Buck's learning—for the first time—what his best friend looks like in... Whatever. … Okay, so maybe none of that is actually her fault. Maybe it's mostly Buck's fault. Maybe he felt safe with May, talking about this bottle of feelings that's been shaken so many times he's surprised it hasn't exploded already. Maybe she loves him in spite of it. Maybe because of it. And hey, maybe Eddie's just being a good friend, showing up to support May. In his boots and— Buck sighs, long and deep, determinedly looking back at the bar and the beers on tap. The round, oblong, and frankly far-too-phallic-for-Buck's-fragile-mental-state beer pulls stare back at him. He can feel Eddie approach from behind him, like he's got on a pair of jangly spurs that only Buck can hear, but it's more likely to be because Eddie'd have to pass the bar to get to the table where May is cheering Eddie! Eddieeeeeeeeeeeee! really, really loudly. He's pretty sure the spurs aren't real, but the distinct clack of cowboy boots are, getting louder as Eddie gets closer, and Buck, for reasons he will not be disclosing, is pressing his fingertips into the bar top with hydrolic intensity. In fact, as Eddie slides up next to him, Buck's pretty sure he can hear the wood of the bar crack beneath his hands. "Hey," Eddie says, knocking his hip into Buck's, setting off little rockets in his blood, "grab me something?" Buck mumbles, "Sure thing," before Eddie knocks his hip again and moves away. By the time the spurs stop jingling, Buck takes a glance down at the bar top. No holes or cracks in sight. How about that?

day 13 of alison and emily's fic advent 2025.

for the prompt: "do i wanna know by the arctic monkeys has some serious vibes if you're looking for songs to write to"

---

Eddie steps through the door of his house with a smile on his face. His second date with Jack had gone well, even got a little kiss on the cheek as they separated outside the restaurant, and there were plans for a third date sitting in the texts on his phone.

The house is mostly dark, just as he left it, save for what's probably the stove light he forgot in the kitchen. His shoes hit the floor with a clonk and a soft laugh escapes his mouth. He'd forgotten how good it could feel to date. Not that his dates had been great. Well, they had, but looking back at it, they could have gone more great. If they were men. And not women. But.

He digresses.

Shucking off his jacket, he hits the light switch by the door, and almost jumps out of his skin as he sees the back of somebody sitting on his couch.

"Holy shit," he yelps before totally processing the broad-shouldered, curly-headed, slightly rocking figure on his couch. "Buck? You okay, man?"

The room is quiet, save for Eddie's breathing, the shuffling of his slacks, the way his feet slide across the floor. It's like Buck's hardly there—he's not making any noise at all.

"I hate this," Buck slurs from the couch.

Eddie starts to move, but something holds him back. Like there's a part of him that knows Buck won't continue if Eddie makes himself known.

Something's wrong.

"Hate what?" Eddie whispers, just loud enough to reach him.

"Everything." Buck's voice wavers and wobbles, sounds disjointed from each other but still forming words, despite.

Eddie's quiet, standing in the middle of a mine field he cannot see, but can sense with every hair that stands up on the back of his neck.

"I hate Jack. I hate him and his beautiful blonde hair and his big green eyes and those shoulders that are just begging to be bitten." Buck's shoulders are softly swaying back and forth, making him seem uneven on his feet, even as he sits on the couch. "I hate that I just wait for you—like, I'm sitting here like a dog, Eddie, waiting for his master to come home, waiting for you to run your fingers through my hair, and you won't. I know you won't.

"And it's not your fault you won't, cause I didn't tell you. They said I should tell you, but no, I just watch you go out on dates with smart, funny, well-read teachers and sit here and knock back a bottle of Scotch that I'm sure Bobby would have loved."

Eddie doesn't think he stepped on a mine—his feet haven't moved—but he feels the explosion anyway, knocking his feet off balance, ricocheting through his body, a dull buzzing in his ears.

Buck continues.

"Usually I can keep it contained, y'know? Keep inside. It doesn't spill out of me anywhere, I can be so fucking good. But you go out with this guy now and I don't know how to handle it and they just come flooding out of me and I can't hide it from you anymore. Shit, I can't hide anything from you. But I try! I’ve been trying. Cause it's gotta be me, right? I'm right here, right fucking in front of you, and if you're as into dick as I think you are, then it's just gotta be mine you don't want."

Eddie watches as Buck pitches sideways, sort of spinning off the couch, and landing on his feet, gracefully not landing face first on the coffee table. He's still glued to the floor by the coat rack by the door, watching Buck and his disjointed giraffe legs saunter unsteadily towards him.

"It's not even your fault," Buck slurs, the stench of smoked Scotch on his breath. "I never told you. But I do, you know." Buck's got his hand on that sacred spot on Eddie's shoulder, but Eddie can't look at him. He's not sure where Buck's eyes are.

Eddie stands still as Buck lurches past him for the door, knob in his grasp, the cool night air briskly hitting the sweat on his skin.

"Do what?" he mumbles, question falling out of his mouth and onto the floor, eyes transfixed on the couch in front of him.

"Love you."

The door clicks shut.

Buck is gone.

day 9 of alison and emily's fic advent 2025.

for the prompt: "eddie gets obsessed with buck in a cropped shirt"

---

Eddie knows he's staring, okay? Embarrassingly still, mouth slightly ajar, blushing furiously, but he can't help it. He's just a man.

The Buckley-Han house is full of friends and laughter—the new host of 118 summer barbecues—and Eddie's supposed to be manning the grill. Usually, he's pretty good at it. Get the hot dogs hot all the way through. Take burgers off when they start to sweat clear. Don't serve raw chicken, don’t get anyone sick, all that good stuff.

But then…

"Aren't they precious?" Maddie says from beside him, arms full of the cutest toddler Eddie's seen since Christopher. "He's the best uncle I could ask for."

Eddie's supposed to be paying attention to his food on the grill, he knows. He knows.

But across the patio, buzzing through the house, are Fairy Queen Mara and Fairy President Jee-Yun, being trailed after by…

"Is he some kind of lady-in-waiting?" Eddie asks, still not entirely sure about the politics of the fairy kingdom the girls have created.

"Either that, or some kind of assistant," Maddie says, her smile wide. "Doesn't seem to matter, he's good at keeping up with them." She looks over at him, eyes narrowed, smile quirked.

She knows. Eddie knows she knows. Sisters always know.

"And he's so sweet in his little matching shirt. Jee was insistent that her Uncle Buck be in compliance with Fairy Kingdom Dress Code." The baby starts to laugh, big and broad, and Maddie joins in. "Yes, that's right," she coos, shimmying her shoulders, wiggling the baby. "Your Uncle Buck and his little bitty glittery shirt."

Because she’s right. Buck, right alongside Mara and Jee, is wearing a little bitty glittery shirt. Except, where Jee-Yun and Mara have their shirts flowing around them, the shiny fabric twirling and glittering in the sun, Buck's was…

"I tried, okay," Maddie admits, trying her hardest to stifle a laugh. "I got him a 3X. It was the biggest they had."

And, to her credit, Buck actually had gotten the shirt on. They'd had to sacrifice the sleeves (apparently it was okay for Fairy Assistants-In-Waiting to go sleeveless), but he'd gotten it down over his head and across his shoulders. It was just… Well…

The rest of it didn't really cover much.

His teal top cut tightly across his chest, the undershirt stopping somewhere just beneath his pecs. The flowing, sparkly fabric that draped over the top rested just above the start of his happy trail, a little above his belly button, that Eddie was trying desperately not to stare at.

He knows, okay.

But trailing after the girls in the light of the day, out on the patio and through the house, the three of them enthralled in laughter at Buck's antics and Mara's decrees and Jee-Yun's passionate speeches, Eddie's just…

He sighs loudly, wistfully, down at the meat on the grill as the three of them twinkle out of sight.

Enchanted.

Eddie pokes forlornly at the burgers. The juices are pink, they're almost ready. He’s very much not ready.

"You know, don't you," Eddie mumbles, hoping the chicken thinks he's talking to it.

"I only know what you want me to know," Maddie confesses softly, bringing both herself and the baby a step closer. "But, for what it's worth, I don't think he does."

His grip freezes on the spatula, turning a burger over with violent force, splattering grease on his arm. He doesn't flinch.

"You don't think he does what?"

"Know," Maddie says softly. "I don't think he knows what you know."

He almost drops the spatula.

"And, for what it's worth," she continues, "I think you should tell him."

Eddie flips the chicken this time, softer.

"Why?"

"Because," Maddie says, "I know."

Things to know: 

During December in the lead up to Christmas, we're posting a fic every day. This is our first year doing this and it’s going to be great! (We hope 🤞)

While we're using this as an excuse to stretch our writing muscles, we are limited in the fandoms/pairings we can write. Need guidance or an idea? Check out our blogs (Emily/Alison) and our AO3s (Emily/Alison). (And yes, RPF is accepted and encouraged.)

This is anonymous. We won’t know whose prompt we're filling. The fun is in the mystery and the challenge. (Except we do have veto power.)

There is no required format for the prompts. Give a word, give a paragraph. Make it a quote or a song we have to go listen to. Whatever you feel like - though the more vague it is the more you’re leaving up to our interpretation. If you don’t specify a pairing/fandom, we'll just pick one that calls to us. You can also specify a rating and we'll respect it, but if you don’t then it’s dealer’s choice and we may turn your prompt filthy.

You’re welcome to leave multiple prompts, but do them one at a time! Please do not leave multiple prompts in the same submission.

There is no minimum or maximum word count, but just assume these will probably be around 500-1500 words a day. So if you have a prompt you feel like deserves a chaptered fic, don’t waste it on this. Some fics may also be co-written.

Speaking of co-writing, we're doing this together, so while not every fic will be co-written, we imagine lots of them will be!

No character death. We're probably also unlikely to write an unhappy ending fic. Real life is still too hard for that shit! But you can prompt things that involve heavy topics or angsty prompts for sure.

Fic will be posted to AO3 but probably not as they go live on Tumblr.

Form will stay open until the last week of November, so you don’t have to think of anything right away. (But we will be pre-writing so the earlier you submit it, the better chance it has of being filled.)

This entire post, and the idea as a whole, is lovingly stolen from our friend @alittledizzy. Love you Mandy!

31750 words. rated e. for the @911reversebang. college!au, fratboy!buck. getting together. collaboration with artist comedicdrama.

"With a final scrape of a too-short fingernail along the sidewalk, Buck successfully rescues the last of the pamphlets and trots back over to Ravi. "Got 'em!" Buck hands the slightly messy pile to Ravi, a triumphant grin across his face. "My beautifully appointed table thanks you, Buck." But all Buck can do is smile. It's his senior year of college, and he's on track to earn his Bachelor of Science in Kinesiology and graduate on time. He's the outgoing chapter president of the Rho Kappa chapter of Nu Alpha Sigma International Fraternity at the University of Texas at El Paso. Everything is perfect." or; a buddie college!au, featuring frat boy buck

or a 9x03 coda , where eddie really hates buck's hypothetical question

featuring : evan ' buck ' buckley / edmundo ' eddie ' diaz ( buddie ) rating : t word count : 3,458

“ If it were me , would you cut off my leg ? ” The question catches Eddie off - guard. He hates hypotheticals. Buck always asks them , typically out of the blue. He thinks they’re silly and playful. Eddie thinks they’re stupid. ( ‘ It’d be weird to have a worm for a best friend … ’ ) This one is far too real. It doesn’t even have his best friend’s usually thoughtful or curious tone around it. He’s serious and sounds like he already won’t like the answer. This isn’t a game.

“ It wasn’t you , ” Eddie forces himself to say. 

Buck shoots him a look , clearly unhappy. Eddie averts his gaze. “ If it was , ” he doubles down.

“ It wasn’t , Buck. ” He shifts uncomfortably. What was even the point ?

“ You just seemed so adamant to cut hers off , ” Buck continues. Something about the words almost sounds bitter. “ I just wonder if you’d be so insistent to cut mine off. ” It strikes a chord. The tables have turned. Suddenly , Eddie is the one who doesn’t want to talk. “ I don’t remember you trying to cut my leg off when I had a literal engine on it. ”