"Fantasy is hardly an escape from reality. It's a way of understanding it."
— Lloyd Alexander she/her ~ 30s ~ fandom sideblog ~ 70% reblogs 20% shitposting 10% I actually write things AO3 profile here.
who are you? I'm Nora. I'm an adult. I like thunderstorms and cooking and getting excited about things.
what's your deal? I write things sometimes and have feelings about things nearly all the time. this is a sideblog so there are limitations inherent to the medium (ie you’re not getting followed by this blog I’m sorry).
fandoms? right now, mainly The Sandman (Dreamling) and 9-1-1 (BuckTommy), but also Heated Rivalry, Dead Boy Detectives, The Witcher, Stranger Things, a bit of MCU (Stucky and Clintasha), and some others sprinkled in here and there.
NSFW? yes. I do my best to tag thoroughly, but this blog as a whole should be considered NSFW.
important links? well! since you asked....
my AO3 (fics are locked, DM if you need an invite)
my Dreamling fic masterlist
my BuckTommy fic masterlist
my Dreamling Bingo 2023 masterpost
my Dreamling Bingo 2024 masterpost
my writing tag for the full unedited experience
what's your icon? this adorable Dreamling art by @mayhemspreadingguy
what if I'm a terf and/or a fascist? fuck off and lie down in traffic and block me.
what's the airspeed velocity of an unladen swallow? you know, I'm actually a big fan of pineapple on pizza and I don't care who knows it.
fic: we're a thousand miles from comfort (bucktommy)
AT LAST: THE BARKLEY MARATHONS AU (CHAPTER ONE)
title: we're a thousand miles from comfort
fandom: 9-1-1 (ABC)
pairing: buck/tommy
description:
Shannon lives.
Buck takes the settlement.
Eddie runs the Barkley Marathons.
thank you to @weatherwaxed for being such a cheerleader and incredible beta!
also tagging @screamlet @rcmclachlan @chimneyschewinggum @liminalmemories21 @cecilyv @geddyqueer @dharmaavocado and anyone else who is procrastinating posting their fic!
goooooood MORNING everyone it is Saturday! and EYE for one am thinking about when Buck finally took Tommy’s monster dick for the first time. (it was the morning after Madney's hospital wedding, if you didn't know.)
I'm thinking about how they went back to the loft and showered together, swaying with fatigue, sensual but not sexual, and collapsed on the clean sheets Buck had made sure to put on his bed.
I'm thinking about how they woke up together in the slow, syrupy sunshine of late morning. how Buck had the novel experience of being spooned from behind by someone just a little broader than him, of being completely wrapped up in Tommy's strong arms.
I'm thinking about how Tommy murmured yeah? and reached around to cup the front of Buck's boxer briefs when Buck wriggled back purposefully against Tommy's morning wood.
I'm thinking about the lazy, sloppy blowjobs they traded to rev each other up and whet their appetites. I'm thinking about how Tommy pushed Buck's knees open wide and let a glob of spit run down over his hole, and the absolutely obscene noise Buck made when he felt it dripping between his ass cheeks.
I'm thinking about how slowly Tommy fingered him, how he really took his time opening him up (partly for practical reasons and partly just for love of the game) until Buck was writhing and swearing and begging. gotta make sure you're ready, baby whispered against his inner thigh and the gasp of I'm ready, Tommy, fuck, I'm ready in response.
I'm thinking about how Buck insisted on being fucked face to face, even though Tommy said it would probably be easier on his hands and knees, because he wanted to see Tommy's face when he slid alllll the way in, and for Tommy to see him. I'm thinking about how Buck got exactly what he wanted, how they were all wrapped up in each other in that golden morning light.
I'm thinking about how when Tommy was finally, finally fully seated, enveloped in Buck's heat, he had to take a moment and a long, shuddering breath with his forehead pressed against Buck's clavicle before he could start moving. I'm thinking about how Buck also took a long and shaky breath; how he said oh fuck, you're so big almost without realizing the words were leaving his mouth; how Tommy huffed a pleased little laugh into his neck.
I'm thinking about how neither of them lasted as long as they wanted, because they were so eager and wanting, because it had been a while, because Buck was so tight and Tommy was so attentive. but it was okay, because they finally had a whole, slow day together to fuck and nap and fuck again, to make lunch together in Buck's kitchen, to talk and laugh and map one another's freckles and muscles and smile lines.
anyway that's what I'M thinking about. happy weekend!
Tommy was a washed-out wall. He was right next to the door. "I--I don't know, Evan. I think it's best if i go."
"What, that's it?" Buck asked, pushing up off his stool, moving into the space of the room, re-orienting its objects and lines and subtle pressures.
"Evan," said Tommy again.
“So. You’re not moving in with me.”
“I’m not a ‘take a leap’ kind of guy.”
Buck found this suspicious. “You kissed me. Right over there.” He jabbed an open palm in the direction of Tommy’s chest. “You fly helicopters for a living.”
“You were a cute guy who got all—all bashful when I told you your teenage buddy still loved you more than anyone else. It seemed a pretty safe bet you weren’t going to deck me.”
“Of course I wouldn’t have decked you! I was an ally!”
Tommy said, “Jesus.”
“Oh my god, you know what I mean.”
Tommy dropped his hands. “Do I? Sorry, do I?”
“You would if you stopped just—just pretending like I’m just not ready no matter what I do.”
“Evan.” Buck was pulling in the light of the room. “I’m sorry, but how is this any different from you jumping into a full dinner date with a man--in public--for the first time? Were you really ready for that?”
“I went, didn’t I? Also, six months make a pretty big difference.”
“Wouldn’t it have been better if we had a dinner not in a public? Or started with coffee and a walk in the park? Wouldn’t you have had an easier time if the stakes felt like—well, like less?”
“It was only because Eddie showed up.”
“You know that’s not true. You were nervous as fuck before that.”
“We got through the whole dinner before you noticed.”
“You should’ve told me you’d never been on a date with a man. I could’ve done something diff”—
“How is dinner and a movie not the most low stakes date anyway? It’s literally the date. It’s what people think of when you say ‘I went on a date.’ I’ve been on dates, Tommy. I’ve been in relationships, okay? This is just the same.”
“No, it isn’t!” Tommy yelled—or got close to yelling. He threw his hands up and then they dropped like balls on a string. He took a step back at an angle and bent his head and breathed out. He said, quieter, apologetic. “He isn’t the same. You know it isn’t.”
Buck, agitated, put his own hands on his hips, slid them into his pockets, slid them out, swung them and shifted on his feet. Then he laughed, a broken clip to it. He ruffled his hair. “Man. I thought you’d be happy.”
“Well that can be the same,” said Tommy. “Would a woman be happy about being told—in the same conversation—you’d learned about something she was deeply ashamed about—pain and—and regret—but that’s not a problem, no, move on from that—hey move in with me. I could be your last.”
Buck ignored the first part. “It’s not as crazy as you saying I can’t possibly be your first!”
“Fine! Maybe that was—maybe that was”—
“Stupid,” said Buck. “You’re pretending to know things you don’t.”
Tommy’s mouth flattened. “You had at least three conversations with me about this that I wasn’t present for.”
“Oh, three, is it?”
“Yes. At least three.”
“Well, it was just one,” said Buck. “I thought Josh represented your side pretty well.”
“My side?”
“Your perspective.”
“I’m not Josh, Evan!”
“All he said was that you had a rough time of it! That every gay person did before 2012 or whenever Glee came out.”
Tommy turned on his heel. “Yes, things were really hard in the 90s—in the early 2000s. That doesn’t excuse what I did”—
“Yes, it does!” snapped Buck. “That’s all I wanted to say! I said it wrong.”
“It? What’s it?”
“I, fine, okay. I said it wrong. I didn’t mean to—all I meant was that there are things you had to deal with. And I admire that you did.”
“And you want me to move in with you.” He crossed his arms and looked around the apartment. “Here.”
“Why not?”
“We don’t know each other,” said Tommy. “Do you love me?”
Buck pulled up short. Josh had asked this as well. “I care about you.”
“I care about you,” said Tommy, his voice dense with feeling even as his shoulders restrained him. “But I don’t think I love you. Do you love me?”
Buck’s tongue was thick. He shook his head. “Not yet,” he tried.
“Why ask me to move in, then? Why that?”
“I don’t want you gone from my life,” said Buck.
Tommy let out a shaky breath. “Jesus,” he said again, soft and almost to himself. “How are you like this. How are you so brave.”
Buck moved towards him, on an increment. “You’re brave, too. What the hell are you talking about?”
Tommy shook his head. “Different kinds, maybe?”
“I don’t think so. The day we met, you flew a helicopter into a hurricane.”
“I think it would be.” He swallowed. “Reckless. To move in together.”
Buck was feeling less blind-sided but still deeply frustrated. He wanted to snap his fingers and get Tommy to somehow look at him.
Tommy continued. “And I think you need to take a bit longer to process the fact that I was engaged to a woman once. A woman you loved.”
“I have processed that.”
“No, you haven’t. You’ve decided to prove yourself to me, I think.”
“Fuck off," said Buck, ignoring it flinging it back. "Maybe you need to process it! I don’t take things back!”
Tommy blinked and looked down again. He put his hands on his hips and looked up at the ceiling. “Yeah,” he admitted softly. “I do need to process it.”
Buck pulled up short again. He wanted to snap his fingers but in a less loud way.
“I—that’s okay,” he offered awkwardly, despite the panic in chest telling him that if he let Tommy think about it and gave Tommy space, he’d get more space in the end then was contracted.
Tommy looked at him, the softness from his voice now matching his face. “She changed your life?”
“Yes,” said Buck.
Tommy nodded, accepting this.
Buck added, “You did, too.”
“I know, I did,” said Tommy, sadly. “I didn’t mean to. I thought you were flirting with me. I didn’t realize that you”—
He broke off. Looked away from Buck again.
Buck suddenly felt very heavy. He folded his own arms around himself. Glanced at the lamp-light on the dark glass of the window. “I thought you were the type to throw in, no hesitation,” he said without much deliberation. He’d said the words before, almost in this exact spot in the room.
“I’ve flown in worse conditions before,” said Tommy. “It wasn’t even the hurricane itself. Just rain.”
Buck frowned. “So, you’re saying I’m wrong about you? You want me to be like, ‘You’re right, Tommy, you’re actually a coward. I don’t care about you at all’?”
Tommy passed a hand over his face again. He looked at Buck. “No,” he said, rippling. “I don’t want that.”
“Well, I’m not wrong.”
Tommy shook his head. He didn’t say anything. Buck breathed in and out.
“I’m not entirely wrong,” he said. “I. I’m not trying to be reckless. With you.”
Tommy’s face was hot. His saliva sticky in his mouth. “I never want to be reckless with you.”
Buck nodded, accepting this.
Then he said, “I think you are kind of crazy though. I heard how long that phone-call with Chim took. It was not long.”
Tommy’s mouth tilted up at its left corner. He looked at Buck.
“Maybe,” he breathed out, to force himself to do it. “Maybe I finally give you those flight lessons—instead of.” He stopped.
Buck breathed out, too. Then he said, a bit closed in tone. “I—I don’t like flying. Is the thing.”
Tommy nodded, accepting this.
Then he walked forward and pulled Buck into a hug. Buck squeezed him and then let go.
“We’ll, um.” Tommy stepped away. “We’ll talk.”
He backed up towards the door.
“Tommy,” said Buck, quietly. “We’re not breaking up, are we?”
Tommy, one hand on the door handle, said, “Just some space, Evan. For now.”
Buck nodded. He put his fists in his pockets. Tommy left.
writing tip: don’t tell us your character’s backstory. don’t tell us what your character is thinking. don’t tell us what your character is doing. don’t tell us anything. the reader should simply look at a blank page and be suddenly overcome with emotion.
we finally finished the original 9-season run of the show last night (second time thru for me) and I have to be honest with you, it was a fucking slog at the end there. I thought it couldn’t be as bad as I was expecting, but… it was. although I think I’m fonder of Doggett than a lot of folks are, I find Reyes so annoying. I wish I didn’t!! I don’t want to find female characters annoying!
anyway now we have to decide if we want to watch the reboot or continuation or whatever it is. the new episodes. I watched season 10 when it first came out but I genuinely can’t remember if I even finished it because I found it so uncompelling. BUT I am a completionist so we’ll probably watch them.
Why would I sleep when instead I can stay up half the night thinking about how the first time bucktommy got in bed together (when Buck brought him back to the loft after Madney’s wedding obviously)…Tommy fell asleep immediately. Obviously. He just got off like a two day marathon shift. And Buck just kinda watched him sleep for a while and thought about how yeah, he’s not just an ally any more, is he?
BUT the next morning when Tommy woke up he and Buck had a snuggly pillow talk that eventually turns to Buck curiously asking how Tommy defined sex and surprisingly, but Tommy always thought of it as specifically penetrative whereas Buck always kind of equated having an orgasm with sex. Tommy tells him there’s no pressure, they can move at whatever pace he wants. Buck grins and the next thing Tommy knows he’s on top of Buck, taking his shirt off, hands on Buck’s hips face in Buck’s neck, and Buck is realizing how much more texture there is to Tommy than anyone else he’s ever dated; he’s calloused, he’s stubbly, and the there’s the scar he finds out about.
And then they have sex à la Buck’s definition, and Tommy never again thinks that sex requires penetration.
Anyway. Happy Saturday. I haven’t had a chance to sit and finish up the stuff I’ve been working on (😭😭😭) but hopefully I will soon. Enjoy this in the meantime.
goooooood MORNING everyone it is Saturday! and EYE for one am thinking about when Buck finally took Tommy’s monster dick for the first time. (it was the morning after Madney's hospital wedding, if you didn't know.)
I'm thinking about how they went back to the loft and showered together, swaying with fatigue, sensual but not sexual, and collapsed on the clean sheets Buck had made sure to put on his bed.
I'm thinking about how they woke up together in the slow, syrupy sunshine of late morning. how Buck had the novel experience of being spooned from behind by someone just a little broader than him, of being completely wrapped up in Tommy's strong arms.
I'm thinking about how Tommy murmured yeah? and reached around to cup the front of Buck's boxer briefs when Buck wriggled back purposefully against Tommy's morning wood.
I'm thinking about the lazy, sloppy blowjobs they traded to rev each other up and whet their appetites. I'm thinking about how Tommy pushed Buck's knees open wide and let a glob of spit run down over his hole, and the absolutely obscene noise Buck made when he felt it dripping between his ass cheeks.
I'm thinking about how slowly Tommy fingered him, how he really took his time opening him up (partly for practical reasons and partly just for love of the game) until Buck was writhing and swearing and begging. gotta make sure you're ready, baby whispered against his inner thigh and the gasp of I'm ready, Tommy, fuck, I'm ready in response.
I'm thinking about how Buck insisted on being fucked face to face, even though Tommy said it would probably be easier on his hands and knees, because he wanted to see Tommy's face when he slid alllll the way in, and for Tommy to see him. I'm thinking about how Buck got exactly what he wanted, how they were all wrapped up in each other in that golden morning light.
I'm thinking about how when Tommy was finally, finally fully seated, enveloped in Buck's heat, he had to take a moment and a long, shuddering breath with his forehead pressed against Buck's clavicle before he could start moving. I'm thinking about how Buck also took a long and shaky breath; how he said oh fuck, you're so big almost without realizing the words were leaving his mouth; how Tommy huffed a pleased little laugh into his neck.
I'm thinking about how neither of them lasted as long as they wanted, because they were so eager and wanting, because it had been a while, because Buck was so tight and Tommy was so attentive. but it was okay, because they finally had a whole, slow day together to fuck and nap and fuck again, to make lunch together in Buck's kitchen, to talk and laugh and map one another's freckles and muscles and smile lines.
anyway that's what I'M thinking about. happy weekend!
