i saw this post earlier about therapists and it reminded me of my old therapist paul, who in my opinion is one of the greatest men alive and who did not put up with my bullshit for even one second
anyway i go in to see paul one week in the summer of 2016, and i’m doing my usual bullshit which consists of me talking shit about myself, and paul is staring at me, and then he cuts me off and says that he’s got a new tool for helping people recognize when they’re using negative language, and gets up and goes over to his desk
and i’m like alright hit me with that sweet sweet self-help article my man, because i’m a linguistic learner and whenever paul’s like here i have a tool for you to use it’s pretty much always an article or a book or something
paul opens a drawer, takes something out, and turns back around. i stare.
i say, paul.
is that a nerf gun.
yeah, says paul.
i say, are you gonna shoot me with a nerf gun in this professional setting.
he happily informs me that that’s really up to me, isn’t it. and sits back down. and gestures, like, go ahead, what were you saying?
and i squint suspiciously and start back up about how i’m having too much anxiety to leave the house to run errands, like it was a miracle to even get here, like i’ve forgone getting groceries for the past week and that’s so stupid, what a stupid issue, i’m an idiot, how could i–
a foam dart hits me in the leg.
i go, hey! because my therapist just shot me in the leg. paul blinks at me placidly and raises an eyebrow. i squint again.
i say, slowly, it’s– not a stupid issue, i’m not stupid, but it’s frustrating me and i don’t want it to be a problem i’m having.
no dart this time. okay. sweet.
so the rest of the hour passes with me intermittently getting nailed with tiny foam darts and then swearing and then fixing my language and, wouldn’t you know it, i start liking myself a little more by the end of the session, which is mildly infuriating because paul can tell and he’s very smug about it
anyway i leave his office and the lady having the next appointment walks in and i hear what’s all over the floor? and paul very seriously says cognitive behavioral therapy tools.
AU where Bucktommy never broke up and they got married and adopted Theo together
Tommy is out one day taking Theo out grocery shopping when they run into Tommy’s shitty dad who makes assumptions and starts talking about grandparents rights
Tommy gets to tell him it’s his stepkid with his husband and he actually got a vasectomy years ago (before he came out) specifically just to end his fathers bloodline
i was tagged yesterday by @letsdosciencetoit (mwah!) and also there's a finish your wip event floating around for this weekend and while i'm not sure actually getting it done is on the horizon because ugh busy, i am aiming to make some progress on broken radios version 2 - the one with theo.
"Where did you go?" Theo asks. "Is Tommy mad?"
"No, baby, he's not mad," Evan says. And then, because he has a policy of not lying to his kid, adds, "I think he's just a little sad. We went for coffee with his dad, and it was…not what he wanted."
Tommy can picture the frown on Theo's face so perfectly because it's pure Evan when he says, "Was it bad coffee?"
Evan laughs, and there's the soft sound of him dropping a kiss on top of Theo's head.
"No. No, they just have a…a complicated relationship."
"Why?"
Tommy closes his eyes and wonders how the hell Evan's going to sell this to a six year old.
"Uh. Well. Tommy's dad isn't always the nicest. Sometimes it makes Tommy feel like his dad doesn't like him, and that's a sad feeling."
"Oh," Theo says. There's a long pause. "Should I give him a hug?"
"You know, I bet he would love that," Evan says and Tommy quickly wipes his face.
He's just in time, because a tiny whirlwind bursts into the room, grabs him around the legs in a hug and yells at the upper end of the acceptable indoor voice range, "I like you even though your music is boring and you won't let me fix cars."
Tommy hiccups a laugh and touches his hand to Theo's soft, silky hair.
"Thank you, kiddo. I like you too."
Theo tips his head back to look up and Tommy with a megawatt grin and says, "I know!"
He's gone as quickly as he arrived and Tommy does his best to breathe through a wave of awful, aching tenderness that threatens to take him out at the knees.
I'm not the kind of person who normally asks for help, but I'm desperate. For context I'm on disability and I work part time to make ends meet. I'm taking care of my elderly mother who can no longer drive herself where she needs to go and I've recently run into a very pricey car problem. My water pump needs to be replaced and I need $1000 to fix it. I know so many people are having problems right now and I'm not special, but if anyone can find it in their heart to donate a little something towards getting my car fixed I would be eternally grateful. I'm willing to pay anyone back that needs it, I'm not greedy, I just want to be able to go to work and take care of my Mom.
Neither Tommy or Buck make a big deal about their birthdays. Buck mentions off handed about a breakfast with Maddie or something. Doesn’t even mention anything about his birthday until after the fact.
“Evan, it’s your birthday?” Tommy asks.
“Yeah, but it’s not like it’s a big deal or anything. It was nice to have something with Maddie again though,” Buck says, not really thinking about it.
“You didn’t think I might want to know?” Tommy asks, raising his brows. Buck shrugs, starting to fiddle with something in his hands.
“It’s uh, it’s not like you told me yours either,” Buck responds.
“It’s October 31,” he says, and suddenly Tommy’s the one finding an interesting spot on the wall.
“What? That’s so cool! Every Halloween you get your birthday too!” Evan says, lighting up. Tommy shrugs.
“It’s alright. Never really made a big deal about it as a kid. Grew out of trick or treating pretty quickly,” he said.
“Oh,” Buck deflates a little. But suddenly, he understands a little better why Tommy likes to go all out to decorate for Halloween and be part of any neighborhood Halloween plans.
That night, Tommy surprises Buck with a slice of cake from the grocery store.
“Sorry it’s nothing fancier,” Tommy says, “I’m not much of a baker, but I know some good cake shops.just didn’t have time to get anything.” Buck smiles, because of course Tommy knows where the good cakes are made.
“This is perfect,” Buck says, and pulls his boyfriend in for a kiss.
They might get distracted and forget about the cake for a moment. Cake in bed after sex might be Buck’s favorite way to eat cake now.
When Tommy’s birthday rolls around, Buck tries to go all out and make him a themed cake. He maybe ran out of time and then had a baking disaster. He sheepishly presents Tommy with a slice of grocery store cake as well, along with the caketastrophe story. Tommy is just as happy as Buck was with his grocery store cake. Tommy kisses a smudge of orange icing from Buck’s lips.
“This is perfect,” he murmurs quietly.
Buck goes out the next day and gets a cupcake from one of Tommy’s favorite cake shops. And Tommy is not one to ever turn down cake.
It becomes a tradition after that. They do a good cake from one of the stores Tommy knows, or Buck bakes the cake himself. But they always end the birthday with a slice of grocery store cake that they share.
Some years it’s in bed. When their first kid is a new born, they’re sitting in bed practically falling asleep over the slice of grocery store cake.
They’re three kids deep, when one of their foster kids finds them leaning over the kitchen island being “cringe” while they share their slice of cake after the kids are all supposed to be in bed.
Another foster kid they have at some point is a teen and “too cool” for birthday celebrations. So Tommy and Buck let them in on their little tradition. After that, they always get a slice of grocery store cake with their foster kid, even after they age out of the system and are on their own.
Years and years down the road, when all their kids are grown, and they’re no longer fostering, they still have their tradition of a slice of grocery store cake together to end the day.
Their kids will come around and do something, or take them out to eat. One of their grandkids goes to culinary school and likes to make them cakes. Sometimes one of their kids will bring a cake from their favorite store.
It doesn’t matter what they do to celebrate, though. Buck and Tommy always end a birthday sharing a slice of grocery store cake. It’s one of their favorite traditions they create together.
bucktommy; cw: blood; for @herrmannhalsteadproduction because she gave me an itty bitty prompt
[wc: 1235]
Okay, things have – yeah, they’ve gotten out of hand. Pretty quickly, if Tommy’s honest.
One minute he was cutting peppers for an omelette – he even took his time finding just the right shade of red and orange, they were crisp and firm and crunched when he popped a piece straight into his mouth from the cutting board.
He should’ve gotten extra for the fajitas he was planning to make this week. Now he’s gonna have to go back to the store, make an extra trip and…oh man, if Tag was working again, Tommy didn’t think he could handle the way he always stares an extra minute or two right at his crotch. He’s not even trying to be coy, and honestly, it’s getting a little creepy at this–
Focus.
Evan’s still in bed, soft snores tumbling out of the bedroom and rattling against each door, pinballing down the hall like they’re reaching out just for Tommy. It’s adorable, he thinks, not for the first time, the way Evan is so burly and tough when he’s in uniform but an absolute softie when he gets home.
Tommy wonders if he’s thrown the blanket free yet – if he should check on him again and make sure, see if he’s warm enough. Evan always complains about waking up cold but refuses to wear anything more than a tank top to bed.
When’s the last time Tommy went shopping? He could use a few new shirts, ones that have a little bit of personality. That’s another thing about Evan, he’s always pushing Tommy to tiptoe outside of the box he’s come to know so well. He even bought a pair of…
Was he doing something? Tommy glances down and sees red, a splash of deep cranberry, tacky and thick on the cutting board. That’s not from the peppers, he doesn’t think, but he can’t remember if he’d moved on to something else.
A pomegranate, maybe?
He was making breakfast, though, and Evan’s sleeping in the other room. Evan. He was going to get Evan because he…
The knife in his palm slips, his grip loosening from one blink to the next, and before he realizes, he’s stumbling backward, hip checking the table before he collapses into a chair.
The countertop is coated, raspberry tracing down the cabinets and onto the floor. The toaster is running, he thinks, the smell of toast wafting through the air alongside the crackling mist of bacon.
The stove, it’s…
There’s a lot happening all at once, but Tommy’s mind starts to falter, drift between flight checklists and scheduling appointments and the yardwork he has to do this weekend. The kitchen loses it’s edges, softens to buttery yellow and sparkling sunlight, smoky haze breathing between dust mites as the day carries it in through the window.
When his eyelids droop closed and darkness re-settles, Tommy’s reminded he needed Evan for something and murmurs his name through chattering teeth, hoping it’s louder than the rattling breath in his lungs that pushes it free.
*
If there’s one thing Tommy hates, it’s ice cold air blowing into his face, dry and unnatural, rattling in the vent like the damn fan is owed some kind of debt.
His lips are cracked, worn, and his throat scratches against the shaky breaths he takes as his mind resurfaces. Evan’s not usually one to turn the air down, but maybe he’s sick and needed to cool down – he wasn’t fighting a wildfire, was he?
“Tommy?”
Evan sounds fine, doesn’t seem like he’s coming down with anything. Though at this rate, Tommy wonders if he is. His mind is thick with the fog of sleep and something much heavier. His eyelids stick closed and the effort to free them sends sparks between his brow and into his brain.
A dull headache throbs behind his eyes and his chest hurts. One of his hands can feel the demanding pressure of the air conditioner, ice coating his fingers and creeping up his elbow. The other’s coated with a glove or something like it, though if he focuses too long on the feeling, it starts to throb like the ache in his head.
“Mmmh,” Tommy mumbles, and the effort sends him into a coughing fit. It rattles his ribs and sticks to his teeth, attacking his throat on the way out and leaving him shaking in the wake of the effort.
“A nurse is coming,” Evan says.
A nurse? Why would he need a nurse?
“Wha’?” He sounds like it’s his first day on planet earth, but Tommy can barely make the steps from his brain to his mouth let alone send words along the way.
“You’re in the hospital,” Evan says, wrapping his hand around Tommy’s cold one. Immediately, the warmth puts him at ease, the slow build of heat landing in his chest where the pain dulls considerably.
“Why?” Tommy blinks his eyes open and squints against the soft light in the room.
A hospital room. That explains the nurse thing.
Evan laughs but it’s sticky with tears, and when he sniffles Tommy’s brows tip down in shared pain. He wants to brush the tears away, but he can’t lift his hand enough to reach.
“You’re an idiot,” Evan says, and Tommy’s frown deepens. “You were making breakfast and sliced your hand open. N-Nice and, uh, nice and deep.”
“The cabinets,” Tommy’s mind flashes with an image of red dripping down the oak. Blood – his blood. Yikes.
“Yeah,” Evan sniffles again. “It kind of looked l-like a crime scene in there.”
Tommy grimaces and Evan leans in, pressing his fingertips to the edge of Tommy’s mouth.
“You were bleeding pretty good and passed out,” Evan continues. “A-And you, uh, had bacon on the stove. Fire alarm woke me up an-and I came out and…”
“Oh,” Tommy says.
Evan laughs that wet laugh again, and it almost tears Tommy clean in two. “Yeah. Oh.”
“’m sorry,” he mutters, “I wanted to check if you were cold.”
Evan furrows his brow in confusion and his mouth tilts into a frown.
“Think it was the blood loss,” Tommy says by way of excuse. Evan’s fingers linger in Tommy’s curls, his other hand pressing against his forearm, seeping heat into Tommy’s skin.
“You’re getting a transfusion, that should help you feel better. You also hit your head on the way down and have a-a minor concussion,” Evan says, leaning in to press a kiss to Tommy’s temple. He closes his eyes and soaks in the feeling of safety it always provides.
“Delightful,” Tommy says, already feeling the pull of exhaustion – a result of some kind of head-knocked, low-blood, painkiller cocktail they’ve got him on. He coughs again and frowns when his lungs finally settle.
“And the smoke inhalation,” Evan says.
“Is that all?” Tommy quips, settling deeper into his pillow.
Evan continues his idle trailblazing, fingertips tracing paths along his temple and his arm, down between each finger, pausing at every knuckle along the way.
“We’ll be able to go home soon,” Evan assures him. “Get some sleep.”
“I’ll make pancakes next time,” Tommy mutters as sleep finally captures him, ensnaring him and tugging him deeper.
“Sounds like a plan,” Evan chuckles as he drifts off. He knows Evan won’t let him near a knife for the foreseeable future, but he can’t blame him, knowing at the end of the day it only means he cares.
i don't CARE if canon has Evan Buckley dating or sleeping with or hell getting married to someone new in the next season/s, he is never getting over Tommy Kinard in my book and they WILL get back together
Just pinning both my Brilliant Minds petitions (the old one I updated with this news and the new one I made in response to it) and the NBC feedback form so I don't have to go adding them to every post in the Brilliant Minds tag in some kind of colloquially-manic ADHD spiral
The one I made in response to this that's more specific about what I want
Give Brilliant Minds's remaining S2 episodes a return date and renew it for a third season
The one with more signatures
Renew Brilliant Minds for a third season
Another one I just made to make sure that if NBC doesn't want to give it a second chance it shops it around to someone that will
Save Brilliant Minds for a third season
And here's the comment form to give NBC a piece of your own brilliant minds
So the way it works is you select the broadcast option from the first dropdown, the feedback-about-a-show-or-movie one from the feedback type and you can give either positive feedback about how much you love the show, negative feedback about how much you think this decision sucks or do what I do and submit one of each
But if things don't work out with NBC there's also the backup plans of other networks so I found the feedback forms for ABC and FOX so we can leave feedback saying that those networks should pick this up if NBC lets it go
ABC
and what to select on the dropdowns before you write your message is ABC under brand and Suggestion under category
FOX
https://help.fox.com/s/contact-support-feedback
Select programming feedback from the feedback category before you write your message
The show must go on!
Also friendly reminder the six remaining episodes of S2 premiere starting May 27th on Wednesdays at 8 so watch them and stream them when they happen but use this time to get as many people into it and binging it as possible before then
What I mean by that is any fan with a streaming service they can watch Brilliant Minds on spends as much time as they can binging when not..
Also here's some solutions for how to do some of the other solutions people have thought up
1. what if we took advantage of the big gap before the return to convince as many people as we can to watch Brilliant Minds enough to catch
We won the TVLine poll let's make that mean something
And make it mean something that the ratings are actually going up and help them go even further beyond
Also this may sound crazy but since Lil Nas X is black, gay and bipolar, all minorities represented on the show, maybe if the show could end up on his radar the campaign to save it could get a massive awareness boost
tagged by @ambernotember, thank you love! i am open-tagging anyone who has something to share.
here's a little more of this
There's a spot on the bolt of his jaw where Tommy's stubble grows in silver. He has it scattered throughout (including in his chest hair, which made Buck feel fucking feral the first time he noticed it), but that one spot, about the size of the top joint of Buck's index finger, is perfectly silver without a single dark hair in sight. Buck likes to press a kiss to it as they part. He's not sure if Tommy knows why, but he always looks suitably charmed by it. He wants to know when the grays started popping up. Wants to know how long he'll have to wait for Tommy to have more salt than pepper in his beard, on his head, in his chest.
Tommy's hand moves slowly, fingertips skimming up and down the length of Buck's spine. The touch makes him shiver pleasurably and Tommy quirks a smile at him that says it didn't go unnoticed. Buck can feel himself flushing a little, manages to scoot ever so slightly closer, wanting the space between them to evaporate, wanting the touch to continue.
Tommy keeps his nails short and neat. One time, Buck showed up early and got to witness Tommy using a pocket knife to clean underneath them.
"I was working in the garage earlier," Tommy had said, apparently misinterpreting the way Buck was watching as anything other than complete fascination. "Oil's a bitch."
Buck thinks he managed not to make a weird gurgling noise, but he definitely made one in his heart. There was something about the easy, practiced movement, the absolute certainty. Because that's another thing. Buck might be a little obsessed with Tommy's body, but he's definitely completely obsessed with the way he uses his body. And yeah, yeah, in the obvious was of course, but also just — Tommy likes to fidget with things, so Buck has a lot of opportunities to watch those big hands in motion.
Buck sometimes finds himself drifting, dwelling on the agile movement of those thick fingers, jolts back to reality thinking about the way Tommy flips a pen before he uses it. He'd bet actual money that Tommy doesn't even realize he does it — that it's just an old, old habit. He wants to learn all those old habits.
A little Jacket snippet to kick off the weekend and hopefully motivate me to write later
Evan's smile is radiant when he opens the door to Tommy's knock.
“Hey, I'm glad you made it,” He says, stepping aside to let Tommy in. “Did you find the place okay?”
“Yeah, GPS led me straight here,” Tommy says, suddenly aware of his empty hands. “I meant to bring wine but–”
“Don't worry about it,” Evan assures him. His eyes flick down to Tommy's lips for a moment, then back up to his eyes. “Can I get you anything? A beer? I'm still finishing up in the kitchen.”
He starts walking as he talks, leading Tommy further into the house, the smell of simmering tomato and garlic getting stronger as they enter the kitchen.
“Are you making orecchiette?” Tommy asks as Evan opens the fridge. “By hand?”
“Uh, yeah. Sal has been teaching me how to make pasta and sauces and stuff.”
“That's….” Tommy trails off as Evan presses a beer into his hand and he looks down at the label. Sal's brand. Suddenly, he realizes, “Sal's not here.”
“No, he was on shift today. He said he needed to shower, get the smell of the city off of him,” Evan's lips quirk up as he says it. “He'll be here soon.”
“Right,” Tommy says, quietly. Evan's smile softens a little.
“You can make yourself at home. I just need to finish up and I'll join you.” He pushes Tommy gently towards the living room before returning to the stove.
Tommy feels in a bit of a daze as he walks into the living room. There are things he recognizes here – Evan's awful couch, the few knick-knacks he decorated with, photos of his niece and nephew. This is Evan's house, he still lives alone, but there's evidence of Sal throughout. There's a gym bag sitting by the door next to Evan's, a book that Evan would find unendingly boring left on the coffee table. A lighter lying forgotten on a shelf by the back door because Sal has been quitting smoking for almost ten years now. Little pieces of himself left behind, cluttering up Evan's home in a way Tommy never let himself believe he was allowed to do.
He hears the front door open and shut, footsteps moving toward the kitchen, two familiar voices. Sal had let himself in, and why wouldn't he? He and Evan have an established relationship. But Tommy can't help but think about how he still felt the need to knock on the door of Evan's old loft, even when they had been together for six months.
So I had an idea for a writing prompt and I kept not doing it because I also wanted to make this. ^
The prompt is this: Tommy and Buck break up, Tommy leaves Buck's apartment... and vanishes. His truck is still there in the good parking space.
The rest is up to you: How long did it take for people to know he's gone? What happened to him? Why is is truck still there?
I'd love to see various answers to this! Just a fun 'what if' to play with, doesn't have to be a full fic writing prompt. If you want to do something as a new post instead of attached to this one, please @ me so I see it! Also I did my best with the details up there so if they're wrong, no they're not!
