#dam first post

[starvoiddream]

Bat!sib, after completing a mission: Calm? Oh please, I was completely calm.

Jason, who watched everything go down: . . . You were totally freaking out, weren’t you?

Bat!sib: I actually thought I was going to die.

[micamone]

hewwo

[oshaskell]

better in my mind than not at all

(tags/warnings: post 9-1-1 s08e08 Wannabes, buck pov, pining, unhealthy coping mechanisms, hurt no comfort)

-

"Yeah, actually." Buck fiddles with the ring on his finger, all his weight melting onto the bar top. "I have a husband."

Drunk, sweaty and overwhelmed, he finds himself laughing. It's not just the alcohol, but the lights and the swirling room and the masses of people moving on the dance floor behind him, behind him and the stranger next to him that tips a smile in his direction. "Nice," the guy says. It sounds distant. Buck finds himself nodding along, lifting his Appletini in a swoop that sends some of it sloshing over the rim. Oops, he goes, the stranger laughing with him, and he takes a sip and smacks his lips loudly at the sweetness. Nods at the glint in the guy—Thomas, he introduces himself—'s hand, on his ring finger.

"You guys got any kids?"

"She's pregnant, actually." Thomas lights up, in that slow, three-drinks-in way. Buck does too, clinking their glasses together. The music changes, something slower, something that makes him think of Eddie.

"Congratulations," Buck says. "I love kids."

Thomas laughs, nods, me too, and gushes about his wife and family, Buck humming in all the right places, and Thomas returns the question. The next five to ten minutes go by with a refill set down in front of them and Buck gushing about Chris, he's so cool, we're so lucky to have him, and Eddie doesn't think he's a good dad sometimes, but he is, he really is, and yeah, we've been partners for seven years. I've never been happier in my life. Thomas grins, congratulating him, and he doesn't know.

That Buck's stealing these moments, fragments from a life that will never be his.

That he's inhabiting them for the night like the broken specter he is, stuck and forever left behind.

And Thomas will remain oblivious. Buck's laugh thrums with it all, a fire fueled and flashing over at this moment, until Thomas taps out with an empty glass hitting the countertop, speaking of rejoining his brother's birthday group and waving Buck goodbye with a cheers, man, great talk, and Buck is alone again.

Not for long.

He's wearing the ring when he flirts with the hot drunk brunette that grabs his ass, winding up with against a wall with her mouth pressed to his and fingers curled into his hair, tugging hard, harder, and he's wearing the ring when he sucks off a beautiful dark-eyed man with a Prince Albert in a cramped toilet stall, moaning and taking him deeper than he should, enough that it'll leave his throat hoarse the next day, sore and fucking hurting.

The end of the night finds him in an Uber home, buzzing all over, his heart worn down, shattered, and stomped to pieces. Can't get his eyes off his hand, the stupid prop ring, the whole ride. He stumbles his way into his apartment, the gaping maw in his chest aching with loneliness.

He doesn’t deserve to leave a glass of water and Tylenol in his nightstand. He walks straight up the stairs to his room and drops on the side of his bed, tugging the ring off.

It leaves an indent on his skin, a brand at the base of his finger. The mark goes white when he presses a thumb down on it, then fades back into view.

He tugs the closest nightstand drawer open. In his pocket, a buzz. A text from Eddie.

You doing anything right now?

He doesn't wait—his hand's already tapping the call icon.

Eddie picks up within one ring, and there he is, Buck thinks, aching some more. Eight hundred miles away, Eddie—cheeks rosy and his beautiful dark eyes a little warm, a little sleepy—grants him a smile. "Hey, Buck."

"Hi," Buck says. Eddie's voice is a balm. Eddie's face, a sight for sore eyes, and Buck misses him, and misses him, and misses him, his heart thumping and thrashing against the walls of his chest, jabbing hard against the backs of his eyes and begging him to say something, Eddie, please, and Buck pushes the nightstand drawer closed with a trembling hand. The ring jostles, clinks heavily against the wood inside. "To answer your question, no," he says, arranging his face into a grin, as mild and easy as he can, and thumbs at the indent on his finger again. "Not doing anything at all."

[thesillyexpresser]

Honestly what I see when Biograft death animation

I’ve honestly just accept that I’ve made this design an oc at this point instead of gaslighting myself with terms like “”””personal design”””” like look at it. Considering just calling it angstgraft because that’s all I’ll give it idk ideas are welcome

other ver below vv

blud forgot that their lack of organisty/original identity/what makes them a machine basically doesn’t excuse them of the fleeting desire to see one more day when the time of their end arrives 🙏🙏💀💀💀

Anyways yummy colors I think

[hunterfromtheabyss]

[spinnincircus]

the spooder ever. (reblogs appreciated.)

[microwavetoaster-selfships]

I think I need that "Wow, I haven't stubbed my toe in five months! I was then shot fifty-seven times." Audio again

[cringefail-clown]

on my hands and knees looking for more jakehal content. jakehalers where are you. my brethren. we are shrivered up and dying, in dire need of nourishment

[gnawonid]

is there anything more riveting than putting characters in silly little outfits

[bithyspino]

death of a sun wip

Both of them are gods I made for a dnd campaign and this is a part that takes place before the campaign. It’s the god of sun and wars death. The one stabbing him is the god of desert and disease who is made up of a swarm of bugs.

[eyeofgender]

buncha doodles

[agonybell84]

I need him. I need him for health, education, happiness and life.

He so silly looking I love him<3

(Pic edits by meee)

[chaosintheavenue]

Me, gently picking up Courier from [REDACTED] and placing her in an enclosure (the Mojave) with a leafy twig and a rock to hide under

Courier: This is nice and all, but... when do I get to go to space?

(imagine this in a movie trailer-esque sequence of quick text frames with booming SFX)

#chaos plays the outer worlds

coming

2025

[yaboiferalzzz]

Dont post here much but heres a recent animation practice I made ^^

[seafoamsol]

Here're my previews for the @tf-bigbang 2023 event! I was partnered with SnowfirePax ( Chryscare on AO3 ) for their fic Under The Stars, a messy love story mixed with political strife, murder, and could-have-should-have-beens.

It's a beautiful fic, and I'm honored to have been given the opportunity to illustrate for it. I look forwards to sharing the full pieces with you on Sept. 22nd!

[girlivealwaysbean]

on one hand completely ignoring your emotions is soo good for my mental stability and productivity but man i miss staring at the ceiling and listening to sad songs on loop