#aggy writes

[littlemissagrafina]

I Choose You (Tell The World That We Got It Right)

Post S08E11 Bucktommy fix it fic because I can

-

“Whoa, hey. Wh- What's happening?” 

In seconds and just a few  words, everything was falling apart. Again. 

“I have a shift later.”

The walls had come up so fast between them that he could almost see the concrete drying between the bricks.

“Tommy…”

This could not be happening again.

“Evan, thank you for last night. It was fun.”

And Tommy was walking away and the disbelief, the pain, the panic was rushing in as if it was that night at the loft all over again and something in Buck snapped.

He scrambled after Tommy, breath catching as he rounded the corner to the entryway as Tommy was reaching for the front door.

“I fought it too!” The words burst from him, falling loose from where they’d stuck the night before.

Tommy’s steps faltered, his hand freezing where he was reaching for the door handle. 

Read on Ao3

“I fought the urge to call you so many times, Tommy. Almost everyday.”

Tommy’s hand fell to his side.

“Every time that I wanted to reach out, to text or call you, I baked. And I baked. And then I baked some more. I baked so much my fridge and freezer couldn’t hold it so I gave it away to everyone.” He scrubbed a hand over his face.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you, that you left and you weren’t mine anymore. I didn’t know what to do with my hands when they had grown so used to reaching out to you and holding you and then you weren’t there anymore.” The words shuddered from him, painful and raw.

The older man turned to face him and for the first time in possibly their whole relationship, Buck saw the cracks. He saw the flash of hurt and the last thing he wanted was to add more after his careless comment in the kitchen, but dammit, Tommy had hurt him too.

“You changed me, Tommy,” he drifted closer to where Tommy stood, “you made me different and you showed me what an actually loving relationship could be and then you left.”

Buck waved a hand behind him vaguely. “I have played that night over in my brain so many times, wishing the outcome was different, wishing that I had made you stay. But it wasn’t different. You left and you never gave me the chance to understand why or to talk things through and I think you owe me at least that.”

Moments passed, a shuddering breath as his only answer. He turned away, knowing he couldn’t watch as Tommy left again. 

A hand brushed against his, guiding him to turn back around and when he met Tommy’s gaze this time, the wall crumbled between them.

“I’ve regretted it from the moment I walked out the door,’ Tommy rasped, “I was down the hall and all I wanted was to turn back, instead I ran. I ran and I cowered. I’d just burned the one good thing I had because I was too weak and terrified of what you did to me, what you still do to me.”

Tommy cleared his throat. “I'll keep talking, but can we sit down? You haven't eaten anything.” he tugged at the hand he was still holding, and Buck let Tommy pull him back into the kitchen, towards the miraculously still warm eggs in front of them. They carry the plates through to the dining room, sitting at the table to eat.

Buck is sure they both know they won't be eating the eggs, but it gives him something to do with his hands during one of the most important conversations he's had in a long time, even though he just ends up pushing the eggs around his plate until they go cold.

Tommy doesn't touch his plate, nudging it to the side as he continues.

“Evan Buckley, you terrify me because I have never loved someone the way that I love you.” Tommy’s voice cracked at the last words. “You filled my life with this warmth and vibrance and it terrified me because I can't keep you.”

“But you ca–”

 Tommy’s expression stuttered into a mirror of that night at the loft, something oh so sad and broken twisted up into wistfulness. “I can't. Evan, I'm not the one that people stay for. I'm not the one who… I'm not that. Everyone I've ever let close has proven that.” 

“So you want to add yourself to the line of people who have left me as well? Because news flash Tommy, no one has stayed for me either.” Buck stood up, his fork clattering against the plate when he plants his hands on the table. 

“Tommy, every romantic relationship I've had ended with my partner leaving me. I was fun for them until they were forced to face that I wanted something deeper, that I have a dangerous job, that I care so deeply about my family. Even then, being left haunted my platonic relationships, too. Maddie left a few times, and I understand why for the most part, but she still did. Then the 118 after the bombing and lawsuit, though a lot of that was also on me.

“You are the only one who has ever just fucking cared, is it so wrong for me to want to embrace the love you gave me?”

Tommy shook his head. “I– no, Evan it's not, but you–”

“But what, Tommy!? You think I need to go out and explore and fuck more men? That I'll find someone else I like more? That you Eddie is some kind of competition?”

“You deserve someone better!” Tommy yelled, standing up and pacing, running a hand through his hair. “You deserve more than me.”

“Well I don't want better or more! I don't want some other man or woman, I don't want one of my exes, and I don't want Eddie!” He stalks around the counter to Tommy, stopping his pacing with a hand to his chest. He steps closer, sliding his hand up to cradle Tommy’s jaw, something in his chest softening when the other man leans into it the slightest bit.

“You consume me wholly. You are the one I want to text and call when I've had a good day, a bad day, a fine day. You are the one that I want to spend lazy mornings with and make dinner beside. You are the one I want holding my hand at family events.” He ducks his head, eyes following Tommy's when his gaze drops to the floor. “Baby, you are the one I want to marry and build a life with. If it takes me maiming Eddie again and again to prove that yours is the only attention I crave, well, he'll just have to put up with it.”

He uses his other hand to lift Tommy’s and press it directly over his heart. “There is no competition when you already hold my heart, Tommy.”

There is a light starting to glow in Tommy's eyes, making them shine in a way that Buck had never seen, something burning bright in them that had Buck wishing for the world to let them stay that way.

“You want to marry me?” There's something soft and full of wonder in Tommy's tone, tinged with the now apparent insecurity that had burdened Tommy for far too long.

“With all of my heart.”

-

There was a hell of a lot more talking after that, crying and arguing as well. They remade breakfast together, Tommy admitting to Buck that he didn’t actually have a shift later. 

Buck knew, he understood that he was just trying to get out before they hurt each other even more, and even though they were both free, they gave each other space to settle and process everything that was said. 

They met for coffee the next day, where they talked more about big things and small, about the things they had left out in their first 6 months together. 

Buck dove into his history with Maddie and their parents, about Daniel, about his traveling. Tommy spoke about his father and what it had been like growing up with him after his mother had died, how his Nonna had stepped in and raised him and kept him as safe and cared for as she could while she'd been alive.

They spoke about Abby and other relationships.

They decided to try a few sessions of couples therapy to help them find their footing again.

On Saturday, they went on another first date, this time during the afternoon and far from Miceli’s which Buck was convinced was cursed. Tommy disagreed but Buck had seen his smile when he’d listed the many ways that he felt they had been doomed by the restaurant.

On Tuesday, they had a brunch date, Tommy just coming off shift and Buck about to go into one.

On Friday, they made pizza together and spent the evening watching movies on Tommy’s couch.

Wednesday saw them grabbing coffee before their first joint therapy session, during which they agreed that one on one sessions for themselves might be good as well.

Thursday they were back on conflicting shifts for a while, but texted often, their chats filled with questions and answers that they had for each other, some tabled for another time and some not. 

And so it went. 

Sunday, Monday, Thursday, Saturday. Two weeks, then three. Tommy’s crew found out they were back together just after week four, Buck’s followed two weeks after.

Two months, three months. 

They sat next to each other in the waiting room after Maddie went into labour during their first double date at her and Chimney’s house, Tommy hesitating for only a second before he let himself be tugged along with Buck to meet his new nephew.

Four months, then five. They shared drawers at each other's house, a spare key, both with no pressure to move in. A silent assurance: you have a space with me, when we are ready.

Slowly but surely, they grew back together, this time intentionally. Two vines twisting together over here, a branch supported by another over there. Purposeful splinting done carefully and deliberately until they had something both new and old that they felt safe to let reach for the sun in its own time.

Six months after that morning at Buck's house, they are there again, standing side by side at the sink, rinsing suds from their dishes and setting them aside to dry. The room glowed softly, battery powered candles littered around. It probably would have been faster and easier to finish the dishes with the lights turned on but neither wanted to break the gentle veil that had settled over the house.

Dishes done, Buck leads them to the living room, lamps and candles the only light there as well. They settle on the couch, something far too expensive but the perfect size and squishy firmness for them both to lay comfortably on it. 

Etta James croons softly in the background as they sprawl across the cushions, Tommy’s weight settling easily over him with his head resting on Buck's shoulder, their legs tangling together. They lay together, basking in the quiet, Buck running a hand up and down Tommy’s back.

He almost thinks that Tommy has drifted off when he lifts his head, chin resting on Buck’s chest as he gazes at him, eyes alight and glowing in the dimness of the room.

“I never want to be apart from you again.” The words are murmured so softly that Buck almost misses them.

“So don’t be.” His voice is just as soft and quiet, hand still trailing across Tommy’s back as Tommy tilts his head down  to press a kiss to his pec. 

“We both know that I meant what I said in the kitchen that morning. That I meant what I said at the loft.”

“Evan…” Tommy breathes.

“Keep me forever, Tommy Kinard?” He tilts his head, a smile tugging at his lips.

It's smothered by Tommy surging forward and kissing him slow and deep.

Tommy pulls away just barely enough to answer him.

“As long as you promise to keep me forever, too, Evan Buckley.” 

-

The next morning, Tommy is flying them to Las Vegas.

“You're absolutely sure that you don’t want any of the others with us?” He asks as he does his last pre-flight checks.

The answer is easy.

“The only one I need is you. This is for us, we can throw a party with everyone some other time.”

- “I used to think that being a firefighter was the only thing I had that mattered, that it was the only thing I needed to keep my family, the 118. Through them I gained a home and I learned I was more than just Buck the firefighter, I could be Buck the friend, the brother, even a son.” Buck adds with a chuckle, reminding them of how much he views Bobby like a father. “I could be just Buck. But there was still something missing.” 

Buck paused, breath catching at the way Tommy was gazing at him so intently, just like he always did. Like he always had from the start.

“And then I met you. I met you, Tommy, and my world exploded. All of a sudden there was something, someone, there in front of me that I was so intrigued by, and the more I found out about you and got to know you, the more I was entranced. I wanted your attention, your time, your conversation. I wanted it all.

“For a while, I had it, and then we stumbled. We fell apart and it was that first night without you that I realised that what I'd been missing for so long had been you. I never want to miss you again, not in any final way like that.” He sniffed, blinking against welling tears. 

“I want to miss you in the small, everyday ways that remind me of how big a part of my life and heart you have become. I want to miss you when we have shifts and I see the notes you leave me in my duffle. I want to miss you when you're only in the next room. I want to miss you when you have to let go of my hand to shift gears. I want to miss you, knowing that you are there beside me and that we made it through our stumble stronger and closer than before.”

Tommy is smiling at him, all scrunched and wobbly and it undoes him. A wave of tears cascade down his cheeks, and he has to take a few breaths and get himself under control before he can continue.

“I want nothing more than to tell the world that we got it right, that I’m yours and you’re mine, that I choose you. Because I do and I always will. I promise to choose you, Tommy Kinard, over and over and over for the rest of my life.”

The officiant, an older man with kind eyes that remind Buck of Bobby, hands them both a handkerchief. They take them with teary laughter.

Tommy takes a breath, his hands squeezing Buck's, his smile crinkling in his eyes.

“I know I've told you this, and we've spoken about it all and grown through it, but walking away from you that night was truly and honestly the hardest thing that I have done in my life, right up there as the most stupid as well. I threw it all away, so wrapped up in my own fears and insecurities, I couldn't bring myself to hold tight to you instead of letting go. I will never make that mistake again.

“You gave me the privilege of loving you not once, but twice even after the hurt that I caused both of us. Your love and tender care has redefined my life and meaning and I vow to cherish my heart as you have cherished mine. You’ve given me a freedom that I’ve only ever felt in the pilot’s seat.” Tommy lifted one of their hands, pressing a kiss so reverently to the back of Buck's hand, his gaze pulling and dragging him in.

“You are my joy, my warmth, my world and sky. You are my wings and my life, Evan Buckley, and I cannot wait to fly into this next part of our lives with you.”

-

“Evan Buckley, do you take Thomas Kinard as your husband, as your companion and best friend for life? Do you vow to treat him with love and devotion, honor and respect? To stand by him in the triumphs and tragedies of life, as a faithful and caring husband?” asked the officiant 

It's a simple statement, but it still leaves Buck breathless and full of laughter, excitement bubbling through him in thingling trails from his toes to his fingertips.

“I do.” He beams.

“Thomas Kinard, do you take Evan Buckley as your husband; as your companion and best friend for life? Do you vow to treat him with love and devotion, honor and respect?To stand by him in the triumphs and tragedies of life, as a faithful and caring husband?” The officiant continued looking at Tomy.  

Tommy’s answer is quick and sure, his smile spreading even more wide and blinding than Buck had ever thought possible.

“I do.”

“Then, by the authority vested in me by the State of Nevada  I pronounce you husbands. You may now…” 

The officiant's words fade as Buck is dipped ever so slightly backwards and Tommy is kissing him, soft and slow and all consuming. Buck sinks into him, everything around blurring and distant when they slowly part.

His giddy smile is reflected back at him and Buck doesn't even try to resist the urge to lean forward and steal one more quick kiss.

“Hi, Husband.” He murmurs.

“Hello, Husband.” Tommy smirks at him.

There's a brief pause, the world standing still around them before they're breaking into peals of giddy laughter and Buck is lifting Tommy slightly and spinning them around.

-

Tommy sets a new beer down in front of Buck and drops back into the seat next to him with his own glass, briefly pulling Buck's attention from the conversation he's having with Chimney. He plants a kiss at the corner of Tommy's mouth in thanks.

Chimney groans, but the laughter and fondness is clear to see in his expression. “The two of you are even more sickening than the first time you were together. Shouldn't you be over the honeymoon phase by now?” He pauses in consideration and turns to Hen and Eddie who are sitting just down from them at the table, everyone gathered for a barbecue at Bobby's and Athena's new house. “Hey, guys, are they even allowed to get another honeymoon phase if they already subjected us to it the first time around?” 

Eddie hums around a mouthful of potato salad and Hen is about to chime in too when Buck catches Tommy's smirk from the corner of his eye.

He tilts his head towards him and arches a brow, getting his own eyebrow wiggle in return.

Lifting his bear, he takes a swig and sets it down on the table with a solid thunk that draws attention to them.

“I mean, considering that we're freshly married, I think a honeymoon phase is just par for the course, no?” Buck drawls.

There's silence and Tommy snickering next to him for all of two seconds before all hell breaks loose and it's a pandemonium of overlapping voices and glasses and cutlery clattering together as everyone scrambles to get a word in.

A sharp whistle cuts through the chaos, and Bobby stands at the head of the table. “Yes, we all heard what Buck said, now could we please have some quiet so we can get more information.?” He has that “Disappointed Dad/Captain” look that has everyone settling back into their seats and looking expectantly at Buck and Tommy.

“Well, Kid?” Bobby prompts with a knowing grin.

Buck and Tommy smoothly slip their rings from their pockets and onto their fingers, holding up their hands to show off their matching tungsten bands.

“We got married a few days ago in Vegas. Tommy flew us there. We are incredibly happy. No, we are not having a whole huge wedding, but we might have a smaller celebration to include everyone at some point. Does that answer some of your questions?”

There were a few nods, though some of them still weren't quite content at just that, as was obvious by Maddie fidgeting and twisting with her ring.

Tilting his head, Buck smiled at his sister. “You can ask your question, Mads, any of you can. Just maybe don't swarm us like that?”

A few chuckles rang out before quieting as Maddie spoke. 

“Did– did you not want us there?” 

Buck shared a glance with Tommy and looked back at everyone gathered at the table.

“It's not that we didn't want you there, not at all,” Buck started, “But it's what we needed. Something just for us, you know? And it's not to say that it wouldn't have been ours if all of you were there but…” 

“But so much of our relationship ended up being sidetracked or put out on show when we were first together, intentionally or not.” Tommy continued, coming to his rescue. “Our first date being crashed by Eddie and being a disaster, our coming out with soot all over our faces–which, to be fair, was on us not anyone else–at the hospital, Billy Boils, our first six month anniversary and subsequent spiralling after the break up. Also yes, I know about the phone snatching moment.”

Buck squeezed Tommy’s hand gratefully, jumping back in. “After we got back together at first we wanted to take our time.. We wanted this to be just ours, separate from everyone until we knew for sure it was what we both wanted, that we could and would put in the work. Yes, we eventually let everyone know we were back together and we went right back to joining each other at events and get togethers, but our relationship is just ours, and has nothing to do with anyone else or their opinions.

“I don’t know if that makes sense, but eloping was what we needed. Why wait when we can be together?” He shrugged.

Bobby cleared his throat, meeting Buck and Tommy both with a proud gaze. “I can't speak for any of the others, but out of everyone here, I think that Athena and I can, at least, partially understand that. I'm proud of you both, for how far you've come to be where you are now and that you have found and nurtured the love that you share.”

“Bobby's right,” Athena agreed, resting a hand on her husband's arm. “It’s your relationship and it's your business to do what is best for both of you… All I can say is, like father, like son.” Athena smirks, mirth shining in her eyes, “Congratulations, Boys, we're all happy for you.” 

“Hey, wait, what are you doing about your names?” Eddie questioned. “Like, are you hyphenating, are you just taking one, are you making a new one?”

Karen pointed at Eddie, sipping at her wine. “Mhm, yeah, and if you drop the “Buckley” do we still call you Buck? Because I don't think I could call you Evan.” She wrinkled her nose, agreements echoing her from around the table.

“No matter what last name I have, I'm still Buck to all of you. Only Tommy and Maddie get to have “Evan” privileges.” Buck explained.

“Well, then? What'll it be, Buck? Are we ordering you new turnouts?” Bobby grinned.

Buck nudged his husband, gesturing with a hand towards the group. “You want the honours, Babe?”

Tommy sat up, clearing his throat. “You are looking at the newly dubbed–” He ducked back into Buck's space for a moment, “Drumroll please, Ev?”

Buck obliged, beating his hands against the table.

“Mr and Mr Kinard!” Tommy exclaimed and a cheer went up around them.

“New turnouts it is. You have a good deal of paperwork in your future, Kid.” Bobby laughed and Buck couldn't help but groan at the thought.

“Oh, leave them be for the moment, Bobby. You can talk paperwork another day. For now, we celebrate.” Athena decreed, raising her glass, everyone following suit. 

“To Buck and Tommy!” She saluted.

“To Buck and Tommy!”

[littlemissagrafina]

Just a lil something because I couldn't resist🤭

Buck's head fell back against the couch and he sighed, taking advantage of the relief the small time frame that Bobby had taken their house offline granted them.

It had been an almost nonstop round of calls from the second hour of their 24hr shift. They were currently on hour 11 and Buck was tired. Not only physically, because he was, their last call having him and Eddie on a rope rescue for far longer than they'd expected when problem after problem kept happening during the rescue.

He was mentally drained, too. They'd had a few losses early on during their third call out, an older couple with their visiting granddaughter, and it was weighing on the whole team. They'd split off silently after they got back to the station and showered off the calls. Bobby had called in a request to be taken offline for the next hour and a half.

Bobby had taken a few minutes in his office, presumably on the phone to Athena, before heading up to the kitchen and starting on a quick lunch. Mac and cheese based of the smell

Hen and Chimney had headed for the bunks and parking lot respectively with their phones in hand, Eddie still getting changed in the lockers. Buck spared a thought as to whether his friend was going to try and phone Chris before brushing it away. He was helping Eddie as much as could but the other man’s relationship with Chris was something that needed to be worked on by them. Not those around them.

It wasn't long before the others had tramped tiredly upstairs. Some going straight for the coffee machine, others the fruit bowl or, like him, flopping down onto couches. 

Ravi was rifling through the snack cabinet, though. Kinda unfair since Bobby hadn't even spared him a glance, whereas the last time Buck had done that while Bobby was cooking, he'd been stared down sternly until he put the packet of biscuits back and left the cabinet alone.

Buck leaned forward, his elbows propped against his knees as he pressed the palms of hands to his eyes. He felt heavy. 

Breathing softly, trying to relax the tension in his shoulders, he grabbed his phone from his pocket to text Maddie, see how her shift was going and hoping it was better than theirs when he saw a text waiting from Tommy.

Go up to the roof in 30 minutes and look up.

The timestamp said it was sent 20 minutes ago, roughly when they arrived back, and Buck frowned. The older man was on shift as well, though his was a lot slower than the 118’s today, as evident by some of the texts he'd sent Buck, chatting about the details of the plans they'd made for the weekend.

He sat for a few moments, before heaving himself up and finding Bobby in the kitchen.

“Hey, Cap?” He tilted his head, coming to lean against the counter next to his captain.

“Yeah, Buck?” Bobby looked up briefly from where he was sliding the mac and cheese into the oven before shutting the door and standing, his attention on Buck.

“Do you know if Harbour are doing any flight tests or of anything else happening?” Buck questioned, tilting his phone out towards Bobby to show him the message from Tommy.

Bobby gave a nonchalant shrug. “No idea, Kid. It's almost the time that Tommy said, though, so why not head up and check it out anyway?”

He clasped a hand on Buck's shoulder, leading him up to the roof without giving him a chance to answer, pulling him to settle in the chairs that they had all used on at least one occasion.

Buck shifted, drawing in a breath to ask Bobby about what he knew but the older man just waved him off.

“Just watch,” He murmured.

Buck pouted but settled back and listened to him.

It wasn't long until he heard the sound of a small plane, but it was still a bit too far out for him to see the actual aircraft.

The door opening and footsteps coming towards them pulled Buck attention away from the skies. He looked over his shoulder as Eddie, Chimney, and Hen ambled over to them.

“Hey, what are you guys doing up here?” Chim asked, popping his gum as he dropped into one of the chairs, Eddie and Hen doing the same.

The sounds of the engine got louder and Bobby gestured to one side. “Waiting for that,” He said.

Buck tilted his head, looking towards where Bobby had gestured and– 

There!

It was definitely an LAFD aircraft. A smaller plane, but other than that, Buck had no idea what kind it was or what they used it for in the LAFD. It wasn't one of the water carriers, or the water landing one. 

Everything Buck knew about the LAFD aircrafts was what Tommy had told him, but they hadn't gotten to talking about any of the planes yet.

Buck didn't have to see the station number on it to know it was from the 217 or that  Tommy was in the pilot's seat. And from Bobby's lack of curiosity or surprise, Buck was beginning to think that it wasn't only Athena that he'd spoken to while he was in his office.

“What did you do?” He asked, curiosity strong in his tone.

“I just mentioned that we were having a rough shift, I knew you wouldn't want to bother him while he was on shift too. All he said was to make sure you got up to the roof in time.” Bobby explained, smiling at him, expression soft.

Buck grinned back, feeling some of the weight of the calls lifting from him.

“Thanks, Bobby.”

The captain waved him off. Buck wondered if his arms ever got tired of doing that.

Eddie slapped his arm softly. “Buck, look.”

High up in the sky, higher than he wondered if the plane was technically allowed to go, a thick line of dense smoke started billowing out the back. The line cut off quickly, before the plane changed direction and another line was drawn next to the first one.

It was when the line cut off again and the plane change direction to shift into a long, smooth arc that Buck realised it.

Tommy was sky writing. How the hell he had access to a plane with sky writing capabilities or why the LAFD had it in the first place, Buck didn't know. If he asked, Tommy would probably just say that he knew a guy.

Within seconds, there was a big smiley face hanging from the sky, and Buck's phone was ringing.

“You know, it's really unfair when you do romantic shit and I can't kiss you for it.” Buck ignored the snickering and teasing gags around him, Bobby only rolling his eyes fondly at all of them.

“I'll cash it in when I see you after your shift.” Tommy's smirk was audible, even as he had to talk louder of the sound of the aircraft.

Buck chuckled, cheeks warm. “That was pretty cool. I can definitely say no one has ever written me a message in the sky.”

“Cooler than my mouth static?” 

“Definitely cooler than that.” Buck could just picture the pout Tommy would have at his answer. His boyfriend was such a dork.

“Hey, Tommy?”

“Yes, Evan?”

“Thank you.” Buck said, and he knew that Tommy heard what he meant.

He watched as the plane looped around, smoke billowing behind it again.

Tommy answered him just as the smoke cut off, a gigantic heart left next to the slowly fading smiley face.

“Anything for my guy.”

BuckTommy fans are you picking up what I’m putting down

[bone-trash]

What do we think about Simon and Johnny in retirement and Simon is wheelchair bound and Johnny had hearing aids????

Oooooh shit Aggie you’re just hittin me with the heat every day! One of these days I’ll write a fic about this Retirement!AU of mine but I fear it would be too sweet and have no conflict at all!

——

Simon is wheelchair bound as far as his physical therapists/drs/insurance company is concerned but that wiley motherfucker will still make his way around the house on his crutches for as long as he can if you don’t WATCH HIM. The steroid shots he gets every couple of months that help with his spinal injury making him feel REALLY good and if Johnny doesn’t make him take it easy he’ll be worse off than before. On the bad days Johnny’s has to haul him up bride style to get him back to bed, which is now on the first floor for ease of movement. Simon hates feeling babied but when John lays him out on his stomach and rubs hand down his spine with that perfect pressure the complaints die in his throat.

Johnny’s hearing loss is what got him discharged in the first place. The tinnitus he’d experienced for a couple days after every big mission for years eventually graduating to total loss in his right ear. He’d gotten really good at reading lips, and in Simon’s case the creases around his eyes, but could only fake his way past so many medical checks. It took Johnny a while to consistently wear the damn thing, feeling like an old man for needing a hearing aid at barely 30 years old. Even though Simon encourages him to wear it for his own good, he learns to stand by Johnny’s left side so he can always hear him a bit, and sleeps on the left side of their bed.

[sad-leon]

hey what if i wrote a fic 👀

featuring a doodle i have of him:

[miyako-jonathan-asgore-simp]

AGGY, I LOVE YOU!!! I WANNA BE YOUR HUSBAND AND YOU'LL NEVER SUFFER AGAIN MY SWEET OLDMAN

Yap about how much i love Asgore and how much undertale changed me forever (long)

I loved Asgore from first interaction when i played undertale the first time. I understood the lore, i understood what he went through and i understood he was just a good man who did really bad mistakes for being desperate. I related to him...i also made really bad mistakes in past. Rrally, really bad. But i was just a traumatized preteen with lack of attention. Deep inside i was actually good. When i had the battle against him, i didnt cry, but when hearing his song the second time, i did. When flowey killed him in front of me after i had mercy on him, i was desperate. I wanted to go back to my save as soon as possible. Toby fox successfully gave me fear at the time, the psychological horror got to me when i saw that creepy intro. I reseted. Played the game all over again, just to kill him, hoping this would be for the best and flowey wouldnt fuck me up. At this point i just hated flowey so damn much. His form was a bit creepy to me at the time, kinda gave me goosebumps with how good the horror buildup was. But i did it. And then, after everything...i just wanted to save Asgore. Flowey gave me instructions to the pacifist ending, and during the true lab, i was shocked to see flowey was asriel. I was unimpressed at Asgore and toriel being exes, even though at first i thought they were siblings due similar appearance. And at the save them part of the asriel fight, the first one i saved was Asgore. I was super pissed at toriel for leaving him, tho, despite thr fact that i chose the "stay with toriel" option, that was just bcs i thought they would be back together and i wanted frisk to be Asgore's child. I loved this fucking game.

I was literally the "THEY LOVE ME!! THEYRR SO ME FR!!" meme. I didnt even want to replay it, and i struggled and took a long time to do the genocide. I didnt want to kill my friends. Toby fox really made me love goddamn npcs and think they loved me. When I say this game cured my depression, i am not kidding. The lesson about determination, of keep going despite everything, right when i had been abandoned and was friendless…i always cried hearing asgores ost and sometimes even undertale (the song) too. If it wasnt for this game i wouldnt have met the best friends in the world (the WMAD)

[cosmicwolf978]

WAAAAAH THAT WAS SO FUN!!!!!! Final canvas from last night :D

big thank you to @slugs-at-midnight, @shu-bullshit, and @mea-trinitas-profana for hanging out so long, u were all awesome to talk and draw with :)

i will definitely be doing this again in the future :)

tumblr absolutely killed the quality i hope these are easier to see 😭

[hazbinstohell]

When you compare Chaggie to other canon relationships in the universe, like Fizzmodeus, Moxillie... You realize how poor they really are in comparison. The fact that they are already a couple when the show begins is not an excuse, especially when you compare once again to these two canon couples already established that I cited above. Even StaticMoth vague secondary relationship seems more interesting from what little we've seen of it, not to mention the borderline mythological story of Lucilith which is extremely intriguing. Not to mention the relationships in development like Stolitz (frankly epic by the way) CherriSnake and Huskerdust... I mean, compared to all these other main romantic relationships that are already canon, those that are more or less canon but secondary, and those that are currently being developed... Chaggie is no match for me... I heard that they were originally just supposed to be best friends and that the designer changed that at the last minute ? Well if it's true, it shows. And a lot. And it's a shame, because they have great potential. But I don't find it treated well enough... It's very sad to be called homophobic by part of the fandom for this simple difference of opinion.

I agree. I feel like we have both - we have multiple canon relationships that have been done, but they are treated as relationships that are developing or organically working, such as Millie and Moxie. While I understand that Viv decided to make Charlie and Vaggie a thing, it would also seem that from pilot to Season, they could have added some elements that make the relationship much more organic and such. To make Vaggie her “protector” just ruffles me up a lot. Seeing them maybe have more conversation, engaging, flirting, and such would have made more sense. Not “You have to be careful!” Or “Maybe we shouldn’t do something” does not tell me that the relationship is working. Charlie has some grand ideas that Vaggie doesn’t seem to accept.

I really like Charlie, and I want someone who could be supportive.

And then someone out there is going to be like “It isn’t Alastor!” I didn’t say that, however, he has done more for her confidence than Vaggie has, and I absolutely believe he is going to be a big bad for them, but then Charlie is going to lead him down a better path-which, unfortunately people STILL don’t seem to understand that that is the ENTIRE point of Hazbin-Sinners are not EVIL, they have made decisions that are not GOOD, and that Heaven themselves are also not making strict black and white choices with who they are putting there(Adam should be in Hell, change my mind).

Problem is, we have some great, GREAT characters! I love them all in their own way, but relationship mechanics? The story? Meh. I’m having fun with my own ship, and Chaggie can enjoy theirs. It’s as simple as that.

[littlemissagrafina]

i am not there - a snippet

As a little treat to myself for my birthday tomorrow, here is a snippet of my 8x15-16 fix it WIP that holds my heart! Enjoy and let me know if you want to be added to the tag list for occasional sneak peeks as I carry on writing

Tags: @icyfox17 @vrepitspidey @mbirnsings-71 @cryingcabbages @call-me-coley @callie-caje @exhaustedpirate @theotherbuckley

-

“I saw him.” May mumbles later, when they're back at the house, Athena having to be all but pushed out of the house to finish off her shift. 

Buck and Harry are keeping her company, their voices quiet as they chat, soft enough to not bother the throbbing in her skull but loud enough to keep her from falling asleep just yet.

“Bobby.” She continues at Harry and Buck's confused expressions. “He checked my head before the paramedics got there, got my propped up in case my neck or spine were injured.”

They share a look, almost like they're checking if the other had heard her as well.

“May,” Buck starts, his expression weary and May ploughs through it.

“No.” She states firmly, sitting up straight against the couch, wincing at the stiffness that was quickly setting in from the whiplash. “I know what I saw, I know it was him, and I know that he helped me.”

[mymindcreatedthis]

Maybe it’s their first time doing it together? Or it’s Y/N first time (gip aggie)

Ooh that would be a great and very interesting plot/ idea for a fic.

[blessyouhawkeye]

guess which of these women spends the episode falling in love with bj. experts can't tell the difference.

[remyfire]

Really glad I’m spending so much time outlining the next STAE fic because I’m packing it chock full of things that only I will care about and it’s going to be so good. To me.

[avalonbards]

💙 drunken kiss / tipsy for tor and agravain because i think it's funny and agravain will try to kill him.

| 💙 drunken kiss / tipsy oh agravain is 100% going to try to kill him, but tor will say it's worth it

Tor liked to think of himself as a reasonable, mature man.

He didn't do anything unnecessary. For the most part he tried to get along with everyone. When needed he would scold Aglovale and Drian despite their higher statuses than his own because he was still, unfortunately, their older brother through a shared father. Hell, he even tried to get along with the children of King Lot, though of them all only Gareth was willing to return the effort.

Gawain always ignored him when possible, seemingly disinterested in interacting with anyone unfortunate enough to bear Pellinore's blood.

Gaheris did whatever Gawain chose to, following in his elder brother's footsteps like a puppy. It was almost cute, in Tor's opinion. Mordred would rage and snarl at him, spouting off hateful words as soon as Tor would step close, only to always be silenced by Gareth's bright smile upon their face. The twins almost always together, and nearly always did Mordred (reluctantly) go along with his sibling's decisions. Which left just one of the five.

The one that was Tor's personal favorite just for his reactions.

He couldn't help but tease Agravain, deliberately saying things that would make the younger man's head snap towards him as fast as an owl's. The way those amber eyes would light up like two hot coals from fury and indignation was too funny to ignore!

Which led to the current predicament.

With a sigh Tor set his cup of ale down, watching what would have been an ordinary disagreement with anyone besides Gawain and Lamorak begin to unfold into a full-blown argument. Gareth stood between the two sides, shoving each one back with a furious scowl on his face. Dinadan was standing up, ready to get involved if need be, and in the doorway stood an exhausted looking Bors, Lancelot, and Lionel. Likely finished with a round of training only to see the drinking had started early in the feast hall tonight.

All of this Tor watched over folded arms now, enjoying the buzz of good ale and good wine under his skin. But his eyes were drawn constantly towards Agravain the most, even if briefly they flicked over to where Bors hauled Mordred back with a hand on the other man's shoulder and a whispered word in his ear after Mordred said something that made Gareth look like she was contemplating his death.

A thought struck suddenly. An idea.

"Hm..."

Humming to himself, Tor pushed himself out of his chair. Unsteady, but did he really did to be?

Making his way over to the bunch was easy enough, aside from a slight stumble or two. Tor grinned at Agravain once he was within arm's length of the man, winking down at him and earning himself a disgusted scowl.

"What do you want? Come to side with your brothers, Pellinore spawn?" Agravain hissed, voice low as to not draw his youngest sibling's ire

Tor laughed, shrugging. "No, not at all. Y'know I think it's so stupid that you're all keepin' this going."

Oops.

That was too honest, if the affronted look he was given was anything to go on. But still, Tor's eyes were drawn down to Agravain's lips, the thought taking a new turn. Worst that could happen would be a beating, right?

He'd dealt with worse.

"How dare you-?!" Agravain's snarl turned into a startled and offended yelp, muffled by Tor's mouth pressing hard against his own. It was a short kiss, if it could really be called one. But Tor enjoyed it for those few seconds it lasted until a fist slammed into his cheek, sending him crashing to the floor. Laughing the whole time as Agravain stood over him, face dark with rage and brilliantly scarlet. Dead silence came from the others, and all Tor could do was laugh.

Laugh and say, with a smile that was just a bit bloody from where his teeth cut into the side of his cheek, "You're awfully cute when mad, Prince Agravain."

Definitely worth it.

[hoiburto]

Can fanfic writers [ & people who post digital stuff in general! ] please be mindful that the dividers that consist of repeated symbols, such as [~~~~~], or [+++++], (& others used too) are read out loud by the majority of text to speech programs. For example, if I were to add a break right tilde tilde tilde tilde tilde tilde tilde tilde now, that's annoying. People who use these text to speech programs for accessibility have to listen to every single symbol you add to your work, or manually skip past, which, for many people using text to speech- defeats the point of the tool. Not saying avoid those details entirely, but maybe they don't have to span the entire width of the page?

[hexarcana]

@ask-mister-mystery sent “I’m not the one for you. I’d only make your life worse, and we both know it.” (Whatever verse or time in the past/present/future you fancy)

From This List of Prompts

Gravity Falls, 1982. Late winter, Early Spring. Post Portal. The house of “Stanford” Pines.

“Stanley Pines.” She says firmly, forcing her voice to stay as level as she could. “That couldn’t be further from the truth.”

It had been a whirlwind, coming back to Oregon, inheriting her fathers house and money, and finding her long lost best friend from childhood. They had a lot to catch up on but Stan had made it clear it wasn’t ideal to be talking in town, though he hadn’t explained why. But she didn’t question it, she was just happy to see him. Actually, happy was an understatement. Apart from the birth of her son, seeing him had been the best moment she’d had since she was fourteen years old.

They’d caught up, filled each other in the last 15-odd years. She hadn’t revealed everything, nothing about the magic or her coven, but she had told him about her son (and introduced the two) and a bit about her semi-nomadic lifestyle. She got the distinct impression he wasn’t telling her everything either, but she couldn’t fault him for that. It sounds like his life had been hard too. Way harder than Aggie had ever imagined it could have been. That’s part of what kept her coming back to his house, offering food and company. He’d taken her up on it gladly, no doubt having home cooked meals was better than the survival scrounging he’d been doing. She was there every evening now, her son in tow as she cooked for a very exhausted Stan, who spent his days doing God-Knows-What, but he’d made it clear to her early on he needed those solid hours to do… Something. And it wasn’t her place to question that, but one thing she was starting to question was if he was feeling what she was feeling.

She’d loved him back then, as children. She loved him the way kids do, fully and completely. And she finds that those feelings are coming back as she watches him snooze at the table while she cooked or when he took some time to chat with Bobby, who had quickly grown rather fond of his mothers old friend. She thinks she could do this forever, seeing him every day, rebuilding what they’d lost. Building what they could have had, if their lives had been different.

Rejection would have stung but she could accept it. But that’s not what this was. Even with the unspoken things between them, secrets aside, Aggie knows he feels something too. He has to. People didn’t look at each other like they did, not unless if there was was something there. No, it’s not rejection. It’s trying to hide, and Aggie Yearling is sick of hiding. And he’s the one person she never wanted to hide from.

“My life got worse the second I left you in Jersey. It’s only gotten worse! The only good thing that’s have happened to me since then are having my boy,” She points out of the room in the direction of the spare room where Bobby was fast asleep on a couch. “And finding you again. That’s IT.” She steps up to him, looking into his tired eyes which age him significantly. What’s happened to him? What happened to the fiery spirited boy?

“I haven’t felt right since I lost you, Stanley. I didn’t even know it but I think I’ve been looking for you this whole time because here? With you? I finally feel like myself again.” She grabs his shoulders. “I don’t care what’s happened. I don’t care what you’ve done. I’ve done stuff too, bad stuff!” She can’t quite keep her voice as level now as tears sting her eyes. “I don’t care! It’s you, Stanley! It’s always been you, you’ve always been the person for me.” Her hands slip down his shoulders, taking his hands. “I just got you back. I’m not losing you again, you hear me?” Tears slip down her thin face, her grip on his hands tightening. “You don’t really believe that do you? That you’d ever make my life worse? All you’ve ever done for me is make things better, Stanley.”

[facewithoutheart]

The worst thing Tim Minear has ever done to me is make me hear, “Gig ‘Em Aggies,” come out of Eddie Diaz’s mouth.

[littlemissagrafina]

Driving Past Ghosts

The aftermath of Episode 15 for Evan Buckley

Read on AO3

-

At first, it felt as if everything had frozen, the world crawling forwards through tar and mortar. The days felt long, the nights even longer.

Bobby Nash died only a short three hours ago.

It felt like three lifetimes instead.

But everything was still as it had been, even after Bobby's body had been zipped up and wheeled away in a black bag.

Chimney still needed to quarantine and be watched over carefully at the hospital, as did Hen. Ravi and Buck escaping the most unscathed, at least physically. 

Neither of them knew how to handle that.

The next days were almost suspended in time, for how far from reality they felt. Buck knew it was the grief. He knew they were all still processing. He saw the guilt that wrecked them all in different ways.

Maybe if my respirator hadn't been smashed.

Maybe if my lung hadn't collapsed.

Maybe if I had noticed the tear in his breather.

Maybe if I hadn't been locked out of the lab.

Maybe if we had been faster. Maybe if we noticed. 

Maybe if I hadn't been in Texas.

Maybe, maybe, maybe.

The maybes were enough to haunt them, they did haunt them, but this wasn't something that any of them could put down. It wasn't something that Buck could put down.

He didn't think that it ever would be.

Not when they were all cleared and free from the various decomp stages they had to go through. Not when they were checked over and/or treated at the hospital. Not when they were allowed to go home. Not when they had to put freshly pressed dress uniforms on. Not when they walked in the funeral procession behind the engine. 

Not when they had carried the weight of Bobby's coffin, shared between them.

Not when Bobby was gone, when he should be there with them still.

-

And then everything started moving faster.

Chimney was cleared after three weeks recovery. He took the bereavement leave time that was offered to their team.

Buck did the same, not even close to being able to face the firehouse without the rest of the team, without Bobby.

Hen was cleared after eight weeks, she too, took the leave time.

Ravi went back to work first, after his own bereavement leave. 

He was followed by Chimney and then Hen.

It was Eddie, who came next. Buck didn't know how, he didn't have the space for it. But Eddie was back and so was Chris.

Athena hadn't gone back to work, not that Captain Maynard would have let her yet if she had tried. Instead, she turned her energy and grief to finishing off her and Bobby's house.

Buck helped her where he could, as did May and Harry. He threw himself into anything and everything that he could do to distract himself.

He didn't go back to work. Not yet.

It was a blur, but somehow he'd shifted things around at the house for Eddie and Chris’ return.

He helped during Chimney and Hen's recoveries. He cooked and dropped off freezer ready meals for everyone. He was everywhere and nowhere.

In a blink, six months had come and gone and Buck had yet to step foot into the firehouse.

Unable to put it off any longer and all of his built up leave time used up, he put a brave face on and showed up for the next shift, dressed in his uniform and his duffle bag in hand.

His resignation was put forward on Bobby's the captain's desk halfway through their twelve hours.

Buck loved his team, his family, but without Bobby?

Without Bobby there were no warm and comforting smells of spices and foods cooking between calls. No propped open office door, waiting and ready if anyone needed to talk. No steady and guiding presence as they set off on various calls.

Without Bobby, the station felt empty, something fundamental completely lost and missing in every sense.

He'd thought, briefly, of transferring but that felt worse than continuing on at the 118.

With a clenched jaw, Buck eyed the station bay and slipped quietly out to his truck.

He was gone before anyone noticed or could stop him.

-

A week later, he was at Athena and Bobby's door.

She took one look at him and lead him gently inside to the living room and down to sit on the couch, her smile wry and tired and knowing.

“They need me, but I can't be what he thought I could be. I'm so sorry, ‘Thena. I can't.”

Athena released a breath and Buck looked at her. The hurt in her eyes was as strong as if Bobby had breathed his last just minutes ago and he was flooded with guilt for coming to her door and putting this on her, too.

It must have been written across his face because all Athena did was shush him.

“You lost him too, Buck. You stepped up, you were here for all of us, most of all me. You helped me up and stood by me with May and Harry to finish my home.” She gestured around them, “You cooked for me, for all of us, and shouldered far more than you should have.

Bobby knew we would need you, and that you would need us in return. You gave us all the space to grieve and process without giving yourself the same.” Athena squeezed his hand between her's. “Part of me will never recover, but I will keep moving and keep living for him. For me. For all of us. It's your turn to live and grieve, now.”

Buck swallowed, closing his eyes against quickly welling tears. “I don't know how.”

Athena's hands gripped tighter and blinked at her. 

“One day at a time. You take it one day at a time, from here with all of us or somewhere new and fresh. For a week, a month, a year. We do it for Bobby.”

-

Days later, Buck leaves Los Angeles.

He drives and drives and drives. He visits the same places he had before he'd found a home and family in LA. There's something both heavier and lighter about it all, than when he had passed through them all the first time.

He hikes in Yosemite. He visits the Portland Japanese Gardens in Oregon. Washington is his shortest stop, but he can't resist walking through the Smithsonian of Natural History.

He fields calls from Maddie, Eddie, Chris, Chimney, and Hen. Athena doesn't call but she texts him almost daily, as do May and Harry.

In Montana, he goes rafting in Yellowstone and meets up with an old friend from his ranch hand days.

He has his first home cooked meal since he left Los Angeles.

It leaves an ache in his chest because no matter what he eats, it will never taste like Bobby's food again.

-

It's not until Buck is through North Dakota and almost at the state border that he realises he's been moving towards Minnesota the whole time.

He hesitates but keeps driving forward, into Minnesota and continues on. He follows the Mississippe down until he sees the signs for St. Paul and has to pull over at the panic that grips his lungs like a vice.

On the side of a random road, Buck crashes to his knees and breaks.

He sobs and screams until he's left panting and sobbing, leant back against the side of his truck, gravel digging uncomfortably under his thighs.

He feels both worse and better after he calms down.

He gets back in the car and pulls it into drive. Streets, buildings, businesses, they all pass him by.

He wonders where Bobby had liked to eat, what street he grew up on before his family fell apart, whether the cinema he'd liked the popcorn of still existed. 

He wished he'd asked Bobby more things, learned more about him. The smaller things of his past.

He wished Bobby was there to show him the places that had once been important to him. He wanted to find out where Bobby's first family was buried to pay his respects.

He kept driving until it was all a fading silhouette in his rear view mirror.

-

Buck dropped down through Nebraska and Colorado but it was too close to California. 

It was too soon.

Four months had passed since he'd left, ten months since Bobby had died, and Buck turned around.

He cut straight through state after state until he hit North Carolina and then he was back in Pennsylvania where everything had started.

Drifting through to Hershey was an equally subconscious and conscious choice. He didn't stop there, either, driving past the house that Maddie had raised him in and onwards until he was out of the state again.

His truck broke down in New York. He fixed it himself, pulling on the years he'd spent learning how to repair the jeep he'd first left in. 

He got to Maine and very nearly carried on all the way over into Canada but he stopped.

Buck sat in his car, parked at an outlook at the shore, the space so cramped and constricting, and it felt as if everything drained out of him.

He was never going to outrun it. The grief, the memories, the sadness.

It was too much, and yet at the same time far too little. For how could a man like Bobby Nash be constricted to just grief and sadness, to loss and a ghost haunting memories?

Athena's words from those months ago flashed to mind and he wondered when he'd twisted this trip of learning to live into some form of running to escape everything.

Probably right around the time he hadn't been able to face setting foot in Los Angeles again.

Stepping out the car, he let the salty smell of the North Atlantic greet him. He moves forward and rests his arms on the barrier at the edge of the outlook and just stares out at the endless ocean.

Buck knows, logically, that it's not endless. There are lands and countries far beyond his view, far beyond his reach. A look at any map or satellite imaging shows him that.

But he can't see it. It's all so vast and empty and it's a terrible echo of the space in his chest that has belonged to Bobby for so long.

It's an ocean of hurt that he will never be able to cross. A sea of tides that ebb and flow, that will continue to do so for as long as Buck breathes.

And Bobby will be with him in just the same way. Some days will suck so bad, the grief and ache enough to cripple. Others, he will be able to walk along at the edge of the receding tides.

Evan Buckley will survive the death of Bobby Nash, but he will never get over it.