bisexual maddie han

hannah | they/she | 30s | uk ao3 || hannah.png header and icon made by me

[dozypigeon]

previously bisexualmaddiehan

big sister friend

disabled and housebound

maddie buckley han enthusiast

we are in charge of our own safe spaces

here are the ground rules: you can talk to me about metas, character analysis, and theories. i am a-ok with creative gifsets and edits. fics and art are on the table. you can use my asks/dms to yap with me.

please tag me in things, i'd love to see what you made!

(gif by @/buckleysibz)

tags:

personal posts - hannah yaps

grief related - cn: grief

snippets & writing related - hannah writes

collages & edits - hannah.png

opinions & interpretations - hannah.txt

media is always tagged with it's name (e.g. 911 abc) and for 911 characters are also tagged

[thewriteadviceforwriters]

writing advice that actually made my writing worse

okay but can we talk about writing advice that actually made my writing worse for a second

like not in a “this is bad advice for everyone” way in a “this absolutely sabotaged me personally” way

because ??? some of this set me BACK

1. “show don’t tell” (taken too literally) this one almost ruined my prose

i got so scared of “telling” anything that every sentence turned into… over-explained action

instead of writing:

she was nervous

i’d write:

her fingers tapped against the table, her leg bouncing, her breath uneven, her gaze flickering toward the door--

and it just KEPT GOING

like yes, showing is important but at some point you’re not “immersive” you’re just exhausting

2. “cut all adverbs” this made my writing feel so stiff it hurt

i started replacing simple phrasing with weird, clunky sentences just to avoid using one single “-ly” word

like… why am i doing gymnastics to avoid “quietly”

no one is giving out medals for adverb avoidance 😭

3. “write every day no matter what” this one burned me OUT

because instead of listening to my brain when it was fried, i forced myself to produce words i knew weren’t going anywhere

and then i’d reread it later and hate everything i wrote

which made me want to avoid writing even more

consistency matters, yes but forcing it when you’re running on fumes just trains you to associate writing with dread

4. “plan everything before you start” this killed my excitement SO fast

i’d spend weeks outlining every detail and by the time i actually started writing…

the story already felt “done” in my head

no curiosity left. no momentum.

now i leave gaps on purpose so i actually want to keep going

5. “make your writing sound pretty” this is the one that made my writing feel the most fake

i was so focused on making sentences sound “good” that i stopped focusing on what was actually happening

everything turned vague. floaty. kind of… nothing

like yeah it sounded nice but nothing hit

now i care way more about clarity and impact than sounding impressive

6. “your first draft should be terrible” okay this one is half true but also messed with my head

because i took it as: “don’t even TRY”

so i’d write things i knew weren’t working and just leave them

instead of… fixing them a little? making them better?

your draft doesn’t have to be perfect but it also doesn’t have to be painful to read 😭

idk i think the biggest thing i’ve learned is:

advice isn’t universal

what helps one writer can absolutely wreck another

so if something is making your writing worse, harder, or more miserable

you are allowed to drop it. immediately.

no guilt. no “but everyone says this works”

like okay… it doesn’t work for ME.

and that’s enough.

[artist-refs]

That takeaway applies to pretty much any kind of art.

Keep what works for you, toss the rest.

Take any bit of advice as simple suggestion, never as literal commandments.

This is why you can have so many wildly different tutorials on how to choose colour, or articles giving advice on how to write believable dialogue. Different methods work for different people, and no one is wrong for taking a different path.

Besides, if everyone did everything the same way, it would all be so very boring.

[cup-of-milktea]

guys. i really like you. it's nice to be on this dashboard together

[guiltfactory]

you're entitled to your opinion but it's stupid and bad and ill-informed and i hate you

[alright--cowboy]

i desperately need a better maddie plot this season everything since her nde in s8 has been so forgettable

[emilyrosecreatives]

i’ll do anything.

[buckleysibz]

one of my many favourite things about the buckley siblings is their constant debrief sessions. one of them is always at the other’s place (or even work place) just to get this week’s life gossip and so on. it was the same when they were both living in abby’s apartment together and we could see them unwind and talk after work at dinner. but then they just never stopped and kept popping up at each other’s places. and i like to think they used to huddle in buck’s room after school and do the same. or even in the jeep as maddie drives when they were slightly older. if you think about it buck sending the postcards is just him making sure that they never stopped having that.

[dozypigeon]

hands down the weirdest thing about long covid is that i'll occasionally lose my sense of taste. sometimes it doesn't go completely and just makes everything taste really bad, sometimes it's only sweet things or sour things, sometimes it goes completely like just now i opened a huel, first two sips were fine, the next two entirely flavourless.

[bestfriendbuck]

I DO think that out of the all of them Hen is the one most likely to get stuck in a time loop because she gets to try everything over and over again until it’s perfect, not in a traumatic way, just because her ideal life is solving every problem ever with no help and I think that’s beautiful. Don’t look behind the curtain.

Like Buck and Eddie would get stuck in a time loop because they’re trying to find the one thing that lets them out of it without learning the lesson the loop is trying to force them to learn, yanno? And Buck would eventually learn it, but Eddie would rather be stuck forever than experience a meaningful change to his worldview. He gets out after having the world’s second worst breakdown.

Chimney is out after like a week though, he’s genre savvy and reads the universe like a book. And by god is he good at learning lessons. #1 student of life. I think he would intentionally stay in the loop for a while because he IS a huge nerd and it’s cool af, but unlike the rest of the team he does not experience the I Have To Fix It/Control It mentality (again, as a person who learns and internalizes life lessons), so he gets bored and figures it out.

I think Maddie deserves to scooby doo her way out of a time loop. No trauma just get the gang together and solve a mystery. Free my girl.

S1 Bobby would not leave the loop as a form of punishment, s2-6 bobby would not get stuck in a time loop. S7-8 bobby is actually in the loop right now and this is how alobby can still wi-

Athena would strong arm her way out of time loop. I fully believe that she would just shoot the time loop dead. Like Eddie, she takes a ‘I am not fucking learning that lesson’ approach to life, but unlike eddie she would not have a mental breakdown about it. Like she’s stuck until she can figure out how to murder a metaphysical life lesson mechanic but she’ll do it.

[bloodsoakedbuckley]

thinking about season 5 eddie who took a bat to his room, destroying the few things he even allowed himself to have in there, because he couldnt do something worse to himself. how he looked at everyone he saved and saw the path they took, how inevitable it felt. and he resented them because he couldnt follow in their footsteps. afraid he'd never feel normal again. because how do you stay alive when it feels like you shouldnt be allowed to. when everyone around you is dying but you are forced to live.

[desertbuddie]

Buddie Week 2026 - Injuries ( thumb thumb thumb! ) @buddieweek911 <3

[sorrowingsoldier]

Don't let this darkness fool you All lights turned off can be turned on I'll drive, I'll drive all night I'll call your mom

[tweetsongs]

they beg me for a little softer (gen | buck&bobby (+ the 118) | | the new probie has strange ideas and stranger habits. bobby tries to be the mentor that he needs. buck tries to be a real boy.)

When Bobby recruits the new probie, he had a certain idea of what to expect.

Driven, the academy instructor had said. Clever, a good team player, reckless, but only about himself. I think he just needs a little...direction. And a lot of adrenaline. You were talking about wanting a heavy rescues specialist, right, Captain Nash?

There was a surprising sort of fondness in her tone as she talked about the graduate, a reluctant affection beyond the pride that academy instructors took towards newly-graduated recruits. It had bolstered Bobby, as much as all her other words did. Someone likeable, he concluded, and his exemplary records didn't hurt, either.

So that was what he expected out of Evan Buckley, when he first welcomed him into the firehouse. And he wasn't wrong, exactly. Evan -- Buck -- was compulsively likeable, impulsive and a little hardheaded, and takes criticism on the chin, most of the time. But then there are times--

Well.

"Bobby, I just think--" Buck's eyes dart towards the man hanging from wires, stranded in open air. Some sort of filming stunt gone wrong, they were told from the call. "I can get up there, get him out. It won't take as much time as having Chim go all the way up the adjacent building."

Bobby sighs. The mechanics of his words aren't wrong, technically speaking. If there were a way to get directly up to where the man is, it would be safer for him and less work for the team. But the only way up is with the same machine that hoisted the man up in the first place, and--

"That would involve us being able to work while suspended in wires," he says to Buck patiently. "And I know you were trained for rope rescues, but wire stunt work is a different thing."

Buck huffs, a childlike sound of annoyance that reminds Bobby, with a pang, of Brooke when she thought he wasn't understanding what she was saying. "But--" he begins.

Bobby sighs, and his words cut off. "Buck," he says, firm. "I appreciate that you want to help our vic down as fast as possible, but I am not gonna put my team through something that will make them at risk of not only slowing the rescue down, but putting all of them at more risk."

He looks at Buck, and sees the stubborn furrow of his eyes, the way he shifts like he still wants to say something. Reckless, he remembers. The instructor had assured him that it was only with himself, but sometimes kids don't realize the collateral damage of making a call you think will only harm yourself.

(Some part of him laughs, whispers hypocrite. He ignores it, there's no room for guilt when lives are at stake.)

Buck opens his mouth again, and Bobby puts up a hand before he can speak. "That's final, Buckley," he says. "You're here to watch and learn, not to force reckless judgement calls."

That gets Buck to quiet down, finally, his eyes tracking Chimney and Hen as they set up the ropes on the adjourning rooftop, carefully lowering themselves down enough to reach the structure that'll allow them to slowly make their way towards the victim. It's careful going, making sure that they're not tangled in or tripping on strong wire, but they're a good team, they've always been.

Buck just needs to learn to trust them, is all.

---

Afterwards, Buck sits in the engine quietly, mulling something over in his mind. Bobby watches from the rearview window as Chimney lightly kicks his ankle, grinning.

"Impressed, probie?" he asks, all anticipatory cheer. "That was a tricky one, not gonna lie."

Hen laughs. "Yeah, when we cut that one wire, I thought we were absolutely gonna have to lunge for the guy."

Buck tilts his head. "...but you did it anyways," he says, a little puzzled.

Hen looks at him carefully. "It was the best plan we had," she tells him, kind and patient. "Given our training and experience."

"But it took--" a frustrated little noise. Chimney rolls his eyes a little, fond and exasperated. A common emotion, Bobby was coming to learn, when it came to their newest member.

"It was our best chance of getting him out safely," he says, surprisingly levelly.

Having a younger probie was good for him, Bobby notes. Chimney's always been cheerful and laid-back, joking and a little sensitive. But the new probie is bringing out something in him that Bobby hasn't quite seen before, a thread of maturity beneath the cheer that can only make him better.

It was the same with Hen, who was always measured and careful and warm in the same way that waiting rooms are warm. Calculated to be just the right amount of friendly in a world that she could never quite trust would extend the same grace to her. Buck brought out something genuinely warm in her, a little childishness that she had previously only extended to Chimney, something that made her just a little lighter on her feet when she walked into the station.

Buck was good for them, is the thing. But that didn't mean that he was perfect. Or, perhaps, it was precisely because of his imperfections.

"And we did," Bobby adds, watching Buck's face through the rearview window, the confused lines of his brow, the stubborn line of his lips. One day, he'll make a good firefighter. Bobby has a feeling. "Because we all worked together, and we used the training we have, and we followed the protocol. That's what it means to work together, to rely on each other. That's what it means to work in a fire station."

It's not quite a reprimand, but he can see the way Buck quietly takes it to heart, absorbing the words with the same singleminded focus that he uses whenever he learns something new.

"...I guess," Buck says, a little discontent still but accepting it. Bobby watches his eyes, the little frown remaining on his face, and knows that this will probably be far from the last time they'll be talking about this.

---

Bobby's right.

"If I get in the car, I can reverse it, and we'll have more room for the rescue without all of them falling off the cliff!"

Bobby sighs, pinching his brow. "Buck, we don't have time for this."

"But, Bobby--"

And Bobby is willing to listen to Buck, usually. He really is. But there is a family half-balanced on a cliff over a rocky mountain, and he really doesn't have the time to get into an argument right now.

"Buck," he snaps. "We are not letting you get into that truck with a half-baked plan and a death wish. We are going to do this the right way, or not at all."

Buck stiffens, his shoulders in a tightly-wound line. It's too much, Bobby knows immediately, exacerbated by the Looks that he can see Hen and Chimney exchange as they set up the ropes. But Buck is being reckless, playing with a family's life, playing with--

His own life. Which, Bobby finally admits to some part of himself, is perhaps the more terrifying thing. The image of Buck, fingers gripping the steering wheel, trying to make an impossible maneuver on terrain that would be difficult at the best of times and falling, voice cutting off over the comms, flashes through Bobby's mind.

He should be more mad about the insubordination, he knows, but it's pointless to pretend that, just like the way he's started to change Chimney and Hen, he hasn't begun to shift something in Bobby, as well.

Bobby tucks the thought away for another time, another crash of guilt when he's alone in his apartment and needs to make another apology to the family that he's abandoned.

"Understood?" he asks instead, tucking the emotion where it can't hurt anyone but himself (hypocrite, hypocrite, hypocrite).

Buck looks at him for a fraction of a second, then nods, tight and furious and reluctant. "Heard, Captain."

They get the family out, in the end. It's a near thing, though, a small figure coming out on a blackboard and disappearing into the back of an ambulance. Bobby can feel Buck's eyes on the back of his head, at that, a silent accusation. Bobby closes his eyes, tired, fingers touching the pocket of his turnouts where he might have to write another line into the list of sins that he must bear.

But that doesn't mean he regrets his decision, is the thing.

Everybody is quiet in the engine back to the station, seeming to sense something tense in the air. When Bobby finds his way back into the loft, into the kitchen, he waits.

Eventually, he hears the footsteps, Buck loping in like a child unsure if they're allowed where their parents are. No, bad comparison. Bobby doesn't have the right to compare himself to a parent anymore, even like this.

Bobby keeps chopping, waits for Buck to speak first. After a few moments, he does.

"...Hen said that she looked like she would pull through," Buck offers. "The, uh, the little girl. From the call."

Bobby feels a little puff of air punching out of his stomach, aching. It's such a startlingly kind thing to say, a measure of consideration that Bobby hadn't expected, what with Buck's mood from before. It's also very Buck, Bobby is coming to realize. Someone unable to hold onto anger for very long, always finding his way to careful compassion instead. Still--

"Thank you," he tells him. "But that's not for us to know. We stop before the glass doors, remember?"

A little inhale like Buck wants to argue with him, then a long, slow exhale. "I just thought you might like to know," Buck tells him.

He would. He can't. "Thank you," Bobby says, in the way that Marcy used to tease was classic Minnesotan passive-aggressiveness. Buck, from Pennsylvania, hears the quiet undertone of his words, puts the topic away.

"I--" Buck's fingers twist together, his face looking down. He's wearing that baseball cap again, Bobby notes, turned backwards like he's a teenager instead of a full-grown firefighter. "I wanted to apologize, for arguing with you back there."

Bobby pauses in his chopping, a little surprised. He turns towards Buck. "You do?"

Buck looks up at him with a sincere expression. "Yeah," he says. "I, uh, I thought about it, and talked to Hen, and I didn't-- I wasted time that could've been used on the rescue, to keep going on about that stupid fight."

He ducks his head a little, sheepish. It's not-- it's not quite right, but it's a good step forwards. "It's good to be creative," Bobby tells him gently. "And it's good to want to help. You're excellent at thinking outside of the box, Buck, I know that." Buck flushes slightly, looking a little confused at the sudden praise.

"But," Bobby continues. "You have to learn to focus that energy, to know when is an appropriate time to push back, and when you should leave things to the people here who have more experience. Sometimes, what you think should happen isn't necessarily the best plan. As captain, I'm trained to understand my team's strengths and weaknesses, to build rescue plans based on that. I'm always gonna welcome suggestions, Buck, but if I say no, you have to trust that it's because I know what I'm talking about."

Buck looks down for a long moment, swallowing. "Okay, Cap," he says, small and quiet. "I won't-- I'll try not to get in the way, with, uh, you know. Stuff."

It's clearly a little bit difficult for him, so Bobby steps forward, puts a hand on his shoulder. "You're a good kid," Bobby says. "And your ideas aren't bad. Just-- try to keep things within the realm of reality in the future."

That makes Buck huff out a laugh, small. There's something a little like resignation beneath it, but Bobby chalks it up to him realizing his mistakes, understanding how to be a better team player. It would be nice, Bobby thinks, if Buck benefited from the 118 as much as they were benefiting from him.

"Want to help me prep lunch?" Bobby asks, a conciliatory gesture. Buck perks up, beams, nods. Bobby shifts to make room for him, teaching the kid how to hold a knife without stabbing himself.

Seriously, stunt driving. From a kid who doesn't even know how to chop bell peppers. Sometimes, Bobby has to wonder what was going on in that kid's mind.

[eddiepedia]

[lucifixion-pose]

Fellow fic—writers:

Maybe if we use em—dashes even more —gratuitously, unhesitatingly, and without restraint— we can poison the AI—bot—farms so thoroughly —and mercilessly— that their so—called """"writing"""" becomes nothing BUT em—dashes. Perhaps —and dare to dream with me here— we can reclaim what is our god—given right —to never end a sentence before we are fully ready.

[buckleysibz]

maddie + “my brother is alive” smile

[dozypigeon]

my sister does this thing where if she does something to hurt you and you ask her to not do that in the future she'll agree and then just ignore it completely and i'm convinced she does it on purpose like a weird version of weaponised incompetence because the more she does this the less i see the point in even trying to talk to her about it so then she just gets away with being rude and inconsiderate. it does my fucking head in.