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a Fellow Travelers prompt fest đleave a prompt
đfill a prompt
đeverywhere a prompt promptđ
tracking tag #promiseyouwillwrite

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All the fics that have been written using prompts from the Promise You WILL Write collection. This list will be updated monthly with anything new, most recent works listed first.
Please visit the collection to leave a prompt for someone to write or take one for yourself⊠All are welcome! You can check out their page @promiseyouwillwrite for more info.
âš Be sure to show the authors some love and appreciation with kudos and comments on the fics you enjoyed!
*Authors: If your tumblr (or other socials) isnât linked, and you'd like it to be, let me know and I'll be happy to add it. Or, if you're linked, and you'd rather not be, please contact me to remove it.
Most recent posted fics (new works this month, not WIPs) will be featured above the cut. âïž
đ„ too late to run for cover by @promise-you-wont-write | masterwords [NR, 3K] Lucy's done with Hawk's drinking and tells him to leave so he buys a house on Fire Island and decides to fully integrate into the lifestyle at great detriment to his own well-being.
Part 1 of and so with the sunshine: the fire island chronicles Prompted by: @beyondxmeasure
đ„ right or wrong i can't get along without you by @promise-you-wont-write | masterwords [NR, 3K] Jackson Fuller disappears and everyone fears the worst - until he turns up in San Fransisco asking Tim for help. Prompted by: @arbor-tristis
đ„ i've got my love to keep me warm by @promise-you-wont-write | masterwords [T, 6K] Mary brings Tim to a Christmas party at Hawk's mother's house. Prompted by: @ishipallthings
đ„ Kiss of Fire by drabbleswabbles* [NR, 2K] Tim pays a matchmaker to set him up on a blind date. Things do not go according to plan. Prompted by: @ishipallthings
đ„ hold on (i'm coming) by @promise-you-wont-write | masterwords [NR, 2K] Hawk's nightly phone calls become increasingly desperate until Tim has no choice but to go to him. Prompted by: @lispenardst
đ„ my boy by @promise-you-wont-write | masterwords [G, 783] Tim wants to know who Hawk belongs to. The answer isn't what he expects. Prompted by: anonymous
Rewatch Party
Every Saturday we watch one episode of Fellow Travelers and scream together and play bingo. You can find rewatch party posts under the #fellow travelers rewatch party tag or join our discord server!
Dates of the event: January the 13th (episode 1) - March the 2nd (episode 8)
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FT Valentine's Month
Weakly prompts for Valentine's Day! Write, draw, edit, gif, create all the fluff this fandom deserves. You can find fics in the ao3 collection and other contributions under the #FT Valentine's Day tag!
Dates of the event: February the 7th - February the 28th
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my boy
Summary: Tim wants to know who Hawk belongs to. The answer isn't what he expects.
Words: 783
Warnings: 1980s & Tim is dying
Notes: This is a prompt fill for @promiseyouwillwrite. The prompt was: Who do you belong to except Tim gets to be the possessive one this time. Any time period, just as long as Tim gets to have his turn.
===============================================
âWho do you belong to?â Tim asked in the dead of night, the whoosh and beeps and purrs of the machines driving him nuts. He hadnât slept a wink, not really. He would close his eyes but he was never really sleeping. Hawk stirred on the cot and hummed, blinking bleary eyes.
âWhaâd you say?â he mumbled, rubbing at his eyes. Heâd cried himself to sleep again â what was it now, three? Four nights of this? The moment they said goodnight, the moment Tim began to drift off, his heart would break for all of the wasted years, for all of his stupid pride.
âWho do you belong to?â Tim asked again, and Hawk looked up into Timâs dark eyes with a fondness that heâd thought had long since passed. These were not the heady days of quick lunch hour sex or eye fucking across the room at a political party. Tim was dying and Hawk thought he might be too. At the sound of Timâs voice, he smiled wearily and urged his aching old bones upward until he was sitting, until he was leaning forward, until they were sharing a breath.
âYou.â
âMe?â Tim asked, his brows drawing together curiously. Hawk nodded and yawned, daring to kiss Tim ever so lightly on the lips. Just a brush of skin, of heat and breath and smile.
âItâs always been you,â Hawk whispered. âDidnât you know that?â
Tim frowned, scrunching his nose. âI guess I didnât.â
âWell, now that you know...I guess I need to try harder to make sure you donât forget it.â
âI guess you doâŠâ Tim was fading, the drugs they had him on kept him bobbing just beneath the surface most of the time. They calmed the storms, kept the seizures at bay, but they certainly didnât make him a very good conversationalist. Hawk was wide awake now, though, and his back hurt. This cot wasnât doing him any favors, he was not a young man anymore.
âIâm going to take a walk,â he said, brushing the hair from Timâs forehead. âIâll be back soon.â
âPromise?â
Hawk kissed him on the forehead and Tim reached up with one trembling hand, stretching the limits of his IV, to touch Hawkâs ear. To run his fingertips over the cup of his ear. He smiled wistfully, as if that simple touch had sewn together entire frayed universes. Hawk could see the magic in his eyes, and for a split second he thought maybe he shouldnât leave yet. The moment passed and Tim let his eyes slip closed as he waited for Hawkâs response.
âI promise.â
And for once, he didnât have any ulterior motives. No quickie in a bathroom waiting, no pint of vodka to find in the freezer so he could get just a nip to keep him even, no trip down to the corner bar for a glass of whiskey to take the ache in his back away. The ache meant he was alive, it reminded him where he was and how much he stood to lose. The ache kept him honest, but the walk down to the gift shop to peer into the dark windows, to look at the balloons and the cheerful floral displays, it was a nightly routine. The roses and tulips and babyâs breath, the teddy bears, the candies, they were all for people who still had hope and he was living on borrowed time. There was nothing in that shop for him. He would hook a left from the door to the darkened gift shop and step out into the courtyard for a smoke, mourning the days when he could have just lit one up right inside. The foray into the fresh air would do him some good, and allow him to cry a few more tears far enough away that Tim wouldnât have to listen to him sobbing. This was the only thing he could leave Timâs side for now, and even still he felt guilty. What if Tim was alone when he died? What if this cigarette took him away at the exact wrong time? But he was a man who played the odds, and the tremor in his hand and the racing of his heart needed to be calmed so he could come back and sleep. So he could resume his night watch.
âI didnât raise my boy to be a cry babyâŠâ Tim whispered as Hawk grabbed his jacket from the hook beside the bed. Timâs smile was impish in the low light. âSuck it up, buttercup. And bring me a popsicle when you come back...please.â
Hawk nodded and forced a smile through his tears. âIâll be right back, Skippy.â
Hawk has "expectations"
Hawk has âexpectationsâ. Neither Hawk nor Tim (nor Mary, nor Marcus) knows what that means.
written for a prompt in @promiseyouwillwrite
& for @ishipallthings -- happy birthday! <3
âHe said he has âexpectationsâ.â
âWhat does that mean?â
âI donât know,â Tim said. He couldnât tamp down the smile on his face, even with the clear skepticism in Maryâs voice. âIsnât it enough that he has them? Donât answer that.â
âOh boy,â Mary said with a sigh.
They were lunching together at the Tastee Diner in Dupont Circle, two days after he and Hawk had âreconnectedâ. The reconnectingâor, falling back into bad habits, as he knew Mary thought of it, supportive as she wasâhad been inevitable, and heâd known it the minute heâd received Hawkâs letter with a possible job offer. What Tim had not calculated was just how quickly and how hard heâd fall. Again.
âI know,â Tim said, still smiling, âitâsââ
âInsane?â
âOkay, yes, but, alsoâ romantic?â Mary rolled her eyes at that, and rightfully so. It wasnât as though he couldnât hear himself talk. âThis is your fault, you know.â
âMy fault?â Mary echoed incredulously.
âYes, your fault. You were the one who put all those ideas in my head aboutâ love.â He shook his head mournfully, but still couldnât get rid of the smile on his face. âI was perfectly content toââ he broke off, flushing.
âPerfectly content to what?â Mary teased, âCome and go?â
Timâs mouth dropped open in shocked delight. âMary!â

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch âą No registration required âą HD streaming
A fix-it fic rec for "fix-it March"
@fellow-travelers-events
gold-skinned, eager baby
by @lispenard-street
It all starts with a postcard. A postcard, followed by late night phone calls; long evenings spent pacing the creaky floors of a newly-rented San Francisco apartment. More phone calls, more pacing. Tim picks up the postcard. He puts it down. He worries it between his fingers, then in the same breath vows to burn it and never think of it again.  Hawk calls, and Tim answers. A postcard turns into a plane ticket, which turns into a ten dollar bill, fare for a ferry ride. It starts with a postcard. Everything else is on Tim.Â
A fix-it fic rec for "fix-it March"
@fellow-travelers-events
we'll be on the road like Jack Kerouac
by @jesterlesbian
He tried to think of what Tim would do or say. The man who had only spoken to his son a handful of times over one weekend in 1968, but had seemed to understand him far better than Hawk ever had. The business card felt like it was burning a hole in his pocket. An idea burst to life in Hawkâs mind. This was an emergency if heâd ever seen one. âWhat would you say to coming with me to San Francisco?â
Hawk and Jackson go on a cross-country road trip to San Francisco.
prompted by Anonymous
For "fix-it March"
@fellow-travelers-events
...have a fix-it fic rec:
is it over now? by satelarry
this wasnât a dream, he realized that, and he wasnât going to sit back and watch as the love of his life disappeared yet again on him. Not when he knew the outcome of it.Â
prompt: Time Travel fix-it - both Hawk and Tim end up back in 1968 with their memories by @ishipallthings