#will anyone even care?
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
stupid fucking titty window distracted me on my first few watches (don,xt talk to me ok) but he has his hand held behind his back here... clutching his chips for dear life.. hiding the way he's shaking.........
#oh kakavasha for a guy who actively risks his life in hopes that something will finally just fucking kill him#and who is so sure of the value of his life (nothing) you sure are very scared to die huh#think it's like. he wants to die because he doesn't want this life and given his track record it seems death is his only way out#but he wants A life#but he doesn't really believe that's possible at this point so he just gets more and more reckless#how far can he go until his lucky streak finally runs out...?#but he wants a life!!!!! why can't his luck ever give him the opportunity to claim his freedom and have A LIFE!!!!!#also he's just like. scared. natural fears#he doesn't want it to hurt. he doesn't want to suffer more right before he breathes his last breath#and he's scared of the unknown aspect of it. what's after this? where will his existence go? will anyone even remember him?#will anyone even care?#he seems to be more at peace with the unknown and the 'pointless' struggle against death after his conversation with acheron#now he just needs to finish surviving his last gamble.. and maybe he can have A life#ok brain turned off my blood sugar just dropped ibcan't finish this coherently#AVENTURINE. AUSGH
17 notes
·
View notes
Text
every narrator is unreliable bc ontological truth is non-existent and therefore unattainable
#i hate every single post about unreliable narrators on here bitch i will never care about any of that. it's like 'the narrative'. what#is anyone even talking aboutttttttttttt
9K notes
·
View notes
Text
The brotherhood of steel respecting pronouns was not on my fallout bingo card
13K notes
·
View notes
Text
"europeans are soooo much more enlightened and anti-racist than americans" haha sooo true, quick question, how do you feel about romani people?
‼️THIS POST IS ABOUT ANTI-ROMANI SENTIMENT. DO NOT DERAIL. ‼️
#i hate europeans who say this shit. yeah sure you are soooo antiracist. i fucking bet.#literally anyone who cares even a little abt this knows tgat americans are WAY better than us in this regard.
45K notes
·
View notes
Text
this was in response to a now deleted tweet by an adult about disney channel "falling off" and I think about it all the time when people my age complain about teen media
#twt#im blocking anyone who's even vaguely annoying in the notes btw i don't care about your opinions <3#intellectualising your immaturity is so fucking dumb
87K notes
·
View notes
Text
palestine is in a complete and utter blackout with israel launching hundreds of its heaviest airstrikes so far across gaza. this is a mass slaughter and we won't even know the extent of the casualties until it's over; israel have cut off telecommunications so they can commit their atrocities in the dark. there is a genocide happening right in front of our eyes and every person who has ever defended israel's "right to defend itself" has the blood of palestinians on their hands. we cannot ignore what is one of the most devastating massacres in human history.
#i don't even have the words ive never felt this sick to my stomach before#and people are just posting abt their fucking halloween costumes or a new album drop like im sorry but i cant even understand how#anyone can possibly not care about whats going on.#palestine#free palestine
15K notes
·
View notes
Text
[ x ]
#enough heartbreak guys time to be happy#tho now that i think of it... it's really sad if that post was trey visiting restaurant jade works at while they never exactly be together#or trey is married to someone else; and when he got dementia even tho he didn't remember the wife he married anymore he still remembers jad#and was taken there to visit his restaurant again; or jade was called to deliver food to the aged care trey was at#augh...... also if anyone wants more clarification jade eating his own poison is implying he ended his own life#lmao what am i saying on this happy post let's get to tagging#twst#twisted wonderland#treyjade#trey clover#jade leech#fanart
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Pokemon: here's Tulip, she's a supermodel
Pokemon fans: whatever
Pokemon: here's Larry, he pays taxes
Pokemon fans:
#pokemon#pokemon scarlet and violet#tulip#larry#pokemon larry#outdesign posts things#it's amazing how little anyone seems to care about tulip#like psychic's my fav type and even I don't care about her#greatest hits
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
FNAF movie “Mike” and Vanny talk about the Mimic..
#myart#chloesimagination#comic#fnaf vanessa#fnaf vanny#mike schmidt#the mimic#fnaf#fnaf movie#security breach#fnaf ruin#fnaf fanart#five nights at freddy's#THE MIMICCCCCC 🔥🔥🔥#Listen I didn’t even plan on drawing the mimic anytime soon#BUT THEN from my minds eye I saw this comic#and I knew I had to draw it out#VANNY tricked again by the Mimic#dude works quick stole his fit and voice already#When you’re at the pizzaplex be careful the mimic will pretend to be anyone#the chance is never 0 that someone you know is the mimic#don’t worry btw Mike is sleeping rn in the office he’s fine
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
thinking again about how much trust he had to have in Laios to recommend his own daughter in case he dies
#dungeon meshi#dungeon meshi spoilers#chilaios#WHATEVRR#like#We see from his little nightmare snippet that his greatest fear is losing his kids#And we also know how much trauma he has around the dungeons and specifically other adventurers#How he basically lives in fight or flight mode and is constantly thinking of the worst case scenario#How unwilling he is to trust anyone or show vulnerability to anyone#And he recommended his daughter to Laios#Bc even though his years of knowing Laios means he sees him as reckless and oaf-like and maybe insane#His years of knowing Laios also mean he knows hes a good person who he can trust#And who he (secretly) genuinely cares about and sees as a close friend#So much so that he’d trust him with the lives of his kids#Though simultaneously i dont think he’d ever allow him to hold a baby
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
I saw the Epic Mickey beta trailer and felt so robbed so I decided to make my own concepts of the game 😤 and then @pekoeboo was also losing it so we came up with a bunch of concepts, the heart being a stabilizer was her idea ;-; and she helped with that fourth pose :’>
Disney how could u take the edge away from us … Disney when I catch you Disney, Disney when I catch you…
#my art#Ari#epic mickey#mickey mouse#disney#also changed the story a bunch 😤 it’s so much deeper now#:v but I’m bad at explaining#I might draw more concepts later tho ;v;#idk if anyone even cares for epic Mickey >> but it’s my fave game of all time#I miss it
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Prompt 312
You know what I never see used in crossovers? The fact that the Rogues, Flash’s rogues specifically, will not only hold a funeral for any central city rogue that passes, but several, if not all, will don their costume and commit one final crime in their name, so their rap sheet has one final score. Like can you imagine that for a final send off?
Can you imagine being a ghost and seeing that?
The Rogue doesn’t even have to be liked by the others, they can be an utter asshole. And the tradition is still done. And I just think that’s beautiful in a way.
#DCxDP#DPxDC#Prompts#In one timeline we saw it with the first Captain Boomerang I believe#We saw it with Mirror Master (I think) too at one point)#Can you imagine as a ghost seeing something like this#And it doesn’t even have to be their ghost#But just this honoring of this person’s life & giving them one last hurrah#Any ghost would love that- especially if they wondered if anyone would even care about their death
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Tim Drake Accidentally Takes Over the World (and Didn’t Think to Mention It)
So, Janet somehow spent decades climbing her way into every government worth a damn, ruling the entire world from behind the scenes. And then, because the universe is apparently wild, she left it all to Tim.
Cut to Tim Drake, the brand-new, completely reluctant secret ruler of the entire planet. And he just… never really thought it was worth mentioning?
The Batfam finds out when Bruce stumbles across an encrypted memo traced to a mysterious Gotham office with Tim’s name on it.
Bruce, holding up the memo: “Tim. Want to explain why this document about, oh, international finance reforms is signed with your encryption key?”
Tim, not even looking up from his laptop: “Oh, yeah. That. Janet left me her ‘global influence portfolio’ or whatever. Mostly paperwork.”
The Batfam stares in total shock.
Dick sputters nearly dropping his coffee: "Wait—you’ve been managing world policies?!”
Tim, shrugging, barely paying attention as he emails the president of Germany: “Well, yeah. I figured someone had to keep things running. It's not that big a deal. I mostly just redirect some policies. You know, keep things running smoothly.”
Jason, absolutely cackling: “Are you telling me that little Replacement here is the reason for half the ‘global cooperation’ headlines?”
Tim, scrolling through emails: “They send me reports; I send suggestions. And honestly, they make it way more dramatic than it is. It's not that hard."
Barbara stares at him, half horrified, half impressed. “How did we not notice this?”
Tim blinks. “I mean, it’s not like I was actively hiding it. I assumed you guys knew I was… kind of managing these things?”
Cue utter disbelief.
Stephanie, laughing too hard to breathe: “Tim, do you have world leaders on speed dial?”
Tim, completely unfazed: “Only the important ones. They text, mostly. Oh—by the way, I might’ve influenced a minor arms control thing last week. Don’t worry; it’s all sorted.”
Bruce, looking like he’s two seconds from fainting: “Sorted? Tim, we're talking about you having global authority here. People notice these things."
Tim shrugs again as his phone buzzes with notifications. “Sure, but it’s not like they’re going to do anything too crazy. I just suggest stuff, and they listen. Honestly, it’s like herding really powerful, really overdramatic cats.”
Damian, scandalized: “You mean to tell me, Drake, that you’re manipulating world politics like it’s a game of checkers?”
Tim, still casual: “Manipulating’s a strong word. Like I said, it’s more just nudging things along.” His phone buzzes again. “Oh, hang on. France is panicking about their energy policy again.”
The Batfam tries to process the fact that Tim—Tim, who routinely forgets what day it is—is now, somehow, running the world.
And then his phone buzzes with a message from the UN Security Council.
Tim sighs, glancing down. “Oh, great. Looks like they’re debating nuclear arms again. Be right back.”
Meanwhile, the Batfam is left absolutely speechless, processing the fact that their Tim—scrawny, coffee-fueled Tim—is apparently one of the most powerful people on the planet. And to him its just another tuesday.
#tim drake#batfam#tim accidentally becomes the most influential person in the world and its not even his fault#janet was totally paranoid ant who knows what and knew she had to get herself involved with any politics she could#somehow this means she ends up becoming some kind of consultant that all the governments go to for any advice#tim just doesn't care because it means more paperwork for him#tim learned everything he knows from janet herself so when she dies they all do what she wrote in her will and go to her son instead#batfam in absolute disbelief#how did none of them realize?!#tbf i dont think its something anyone would realize unless they were out right told#tim drake ruling the world
635 notes
·
View notes
Text
ty to @icedmatchawoatmilk13 for sending this to me! i may have gone a bit overboard but this was so much fun to fill out/think about BAHAHA💖 ill still never get over how perfect the song sarah smiles is for them...the lyrics AND the fact that its an alliteration...im gonna do an animatic about seb and clora to that song one day i swear 😩 ((blank template by oakwolves!))
#like fr....'i was fine just a guy living on my own/waiting for the sky to fall/till you called and changed it all doll' LIKE!!!!!#makes me think of seb just waiting/dreading for anne to die but then clora comes along and changes everything/saves anne AND him#ok sorry my squeeing and yapping about how perfect this song is for them is done#choccyart#clora clemons#the hardest part of this chart for me to fill out was the starting arguments one honestly...but i think theyre pretty even LOL#clora is the ROOT of their arguments usually and then seb just reacts to her bullshit......so its a 50/50 LMAO. cause and effect#also sebs pda WOULD be at 100% if not for clora LMAO#and sorry for making seb h*terosexual😔 honestly i cant see either of them with anyone else hes just clorasexual tbh#also if i could have given seb an autumn birthday I WOULD HAVE but i needed his bday to be early on in my fic...for reasons...#looking at aquarius personalities tho i DO think it unintentionally suits seb a lot#i wouldnt have made cloras bday in april either if i could have chosen freely i would have done either summer or december#but then again i just recently learned that the birth flower for april is DAISIES!! so its perfect🥰#youd think i would know this since my bday is also in april LMFAO i like how i only care/do this research when its about my ocs and not me#BAHAHAH priorities!!!
655 notes
·
View notes
Text
Buck drums his fingers anxiously on the steering wheel of his Jeep, his left knee bouncing as he waits out the red light in front of him. His shift ended half an hour ago, but the tension in his shoulders hasn’t budged. He thought the drive across town to Tommy’s would help— windows down, music blaring— but it’s done nothing to quiet the anxiety buzzing beneath his skin.
The light turns green, and Buck presses the gas pedal a little too hard, the Jeep lurching forward. Driving through the quiet, tree-lined streets of Tommy’s neighborhood usually settles him, quiets his mind in the way that only the promise of strong arms and that warm, familiar smile can. But tonight, even the hum of crickets and the soft glow of porch lights can’t soothe the unease twisting in his gut.
He pulls up in front of Tommy’s house and sits for a moment, his hands resting on the wheel. He stares at the front door, watching as a couple of moths flutter around the porch light Tommy always leaves on for him. It’s something so small, yet it hits him right in the chest every time. It makes Buck’s skin flood with warmth, makes those three little words rise in his chest until he can practically taste them on the back of his tongue.
In every other relationship, those words felt like a lifeline— something he had to cling to, something that had to be said and something that had to be heard, just to make sure he wasn’t standing on shaky ground. He found himself constantly waiting for that reassurance, always needing to feel wanted. Even when the words came, they didn’t bring the safe, steady feeling he was so desperate for. Instead, they left him restless, chasing a sense of belonging that slipped through his fingers, no matter how tightly he held on.
It’s different with Tommy.
He doesn’t feel rushed, doesn’t feel pressured. He doesn’t feel like there’s a countdown ticking in the background, waiting for the moment those words will finally fall from his lips or Tommy’s. He’s content to let it be what it is, for as long as it takes.
Because with Tommy, it doesn’t have to be said. He can feel it.
He hears it in the quiet moments that hang between them on slow mornings, when they’re curled up together in bed, limbs tangled beneath the sheets, the world outside forgotten. He feels it when they’re in the car together, when Tommy’s left hand rests on the steering wheel and his right hand settles on Buck’s thigh like it belongs there.
It’s in the small, thoughtful things— like the porch light, glowing softly and guiding him home. It’s in the way Buck’s favorite coffee quietly appeared in Tommy’s cabinets, how his fancy, hard-to-find body wash showed up on the ledge in Tommy’s shower one day.
It’s in the way Tommy leans in close, steadying him when his mind runs too fast, grounding him without a word. How he always remembers the little things— like Buck’s complicated coffee order from the cafe down the street from the loft, or how he always wakes up thirsty in the middle of the night.
It’s in the glass of water that’s always on the nightstand next to Buck’s side of the bed. It’s in the feel of Tommy’s hand on the small of Buck’s back when they’re out, a touch that says I’m here without needing to say anything at all. How, when Buck has had a hard day, Tommy makes space— quiet, gentle space— for him to just be, without asking for anything in return.
It’s in those little moments, tucked away between heartbeats and breaths, where words aren’t needed.
Tommy leaves the porch light on. And even if they haven’t said as much yet, it feels like love, all the same.
Buck leans his head back against the headrest and closes his eyes for a second, exhaling slowly through his nose. The knot of unease in his chest hasn’t disappeared, not entirely, but it’s loosened just enough for him to get a deep breath and turn the engine off.
He finally gets out of the car, grabbing his bag from the passenger seat. He walks up the path to the front door, the sound of his boots quiet against the brick. The porch light casts a warm glow over everything, and Buck finds himself smiling, just a little.
Before he can dig out the key Tommy gave him a few weeks ago, the door swings open, and there’s Tommy— hair mussed, barefoot, wearing one of his old threadbare t-shirts that’s too soft for its own good. Buck’s heart unclenches just a little.
“Did they let you out early for good behavior?” Tommy says by way of greeting, his mouth curling into that little lopsided smirk Buck loves so much. He steps to the side, his back against the open door to let Buck through.
“Oh, you have no idea,” Buck mutters, pausing as he steps inside to meet Tommy’s lips in a soft kiss. While Gerrard didn’t technically let him out early, it was the first time in the last few weeks that he didn’t approach Buck in the last twenty minutes of the shift to saddle him with a ridiculously tedious task–– the kind that takes at least an hour–– and tell him he wasn’t to leave until it was finished. Which meant that Buck actually left the station on time for the first time in the better part of a month.
“Hi, baby,” Tommy murmurs against Buck’s lips.
Buck exhales, the tension in his chest loosening just a bit as he leans into Tommy, chasing the kiss for a moment longer. His hands come to rest lightly on Tommy’s hips, grounding himself in the familiar feel of his steady, solid warmth.
“Hi,” he whispers back, his voice low and tired. He lingers there, forehead pressed gently against Tommy’s, letting the moment stretch between them.
Tommy pulls back slightly, his thumb brushing along Buck’s jaw in a way that feels like both a comfort and a promise. “Rough shift?”
“Uh,” Buck toes his sneakers off, leaving them beside the door next to Tommy’s boots. “Weird one,” he says, trying and failing to suppress the weariness that pulls at the corners of his voice.
He lets his bag drop to the floor beside his shoes as Tommy turns to close the door with a quiet click. Buck watches as he locks up and flips the porch light off, a quiet confirmation of Buck’s suspicions that Tommy turns it on for him, a 60-watt beacon guiding him here, guiding him home.
The realization settles deep in Buck’s chest, spreading warmth through him like a slow-burning fire. He doesn’t think he’ll ever tire of being cared for like this— so subtly, so consistently, without any sort of fanfare or obligation. It’s not something he had to ask for or fight to get. It’s just here, waiting for him.
Buck swallows hard, the tight knot of exhaustion and frustration from his shift loosening just a little more. Tommy catches the look on Buck’s face, his expression softening as he steps back into Buck’s space.
“C’mon,” Tommy murmurs, his hand finding the small of Buck’s back, the same familiar touch that grounds him every time.
Buck leans into the touch, letting Tommy steer him toward the couch. He slumps onto it, dropping his head into his hands with a low sigh. Tommy sits beside him, close enough that their knees bump, but doesn’t say anything else. He’s good at that— letting the silence sit until Buck is ready to speak.
“Gerrard hugged me,” Buck blurts out, his hands tugging at his hair.
Tommy goes still for a second, and then— “He hugged you?” There’s disbelief in his tone, and when Buck lifts his head to meet Tommy’s eyes, he sees that crooked smirk forming again, fighting to stay serious.
“That’s not even the worst part,” Buck mutters, voice tight with frustration. “He— He told me he’s gonna take me ‘under his wing.’” He tears his hand from his hair long enough to make air quotes around Gerrard’s words.
Tommy blinks. Then snorts.
“Under his wing?” Tommy echoes. “That’s where all the love and joy of life go to die.”
Buck huffs out a laugh. He leans back against the couch cushions, his hands falling to his lap. “You’re not helping.”
“I’m not trying to help yet,” Tommy replies, smirking again. He nudges Buck’s knee with his own. “I’m trying to make you laugh so you don’t spiral. Looks like I’m halfway there.”
Buck shakes his head, but the small smile pulls at the corner of his mouth anyway.
“Okay, seriously,” Tommy continues, his voice softening. “What happened?”
Buck sighs, letting his head fall back against the couch, eyes fixed on the ceiling. “I– I don’t know. He had us line up at the start of shift. Went down the line and was his… usual self to everyone else. And then he got to me and– and…” Buck’s voice trails off, discomfort curling in his gut as he relives the moment. “He– He told me I saved his life and then he hugged me.” He drags his hands down his face. “And now, suddenly, I’m his pet project.”
Tommy’s brow furrows. “He really hugged you?”
Buck makes a sound somewhere between a groan and a laugh. “Yeah. A hug. Not, like, a friendly slap on the back, but a full-body, completely awkward, get-in-here-son hug. You should’ve seen everyone else’s faces. I thought Eddie was going to keel over.”
Tommy lets out a low whistle, eyebrows raised. “That’s... something.” He leans back, resting an arm along the top of the couch behind Buck. His fingers slip into Buck’s hair, running through his curls as the silence hangs between them. Buck relaxes into the touch, tipping his head toward Tommy, leaning into the warmth and steadiness of his hand.
“Under his wing,” Buck mutters again, almost to himself. “I don’t even know what that means.”
“It means you’re officially his new favorite. Congratulations, babe. You’ve leveled up.”
“Oh, yeah. Lucky me,” Buck deadpans, dragging his hands down his face. “Just what I’ve always wanted—mentorship from a guy who makes my skin crawl.”
Tommy lets out a soft chuckle, his fingers still threading gently through Buck’s curls. The silence between them stretches, comfortable but charged, like Tommy is waiting, watching, reading Buck the way he always does. The humor fades from his face, replaced by something softer, more careful. “Okay,” Tommy murmurs after a moment, his fingers brushing lightly along the nape of Buck’s neck. “What’s really going on?”
Buck freezes for a second, caught between wanting to say it and wanting to shove it down. Tommy always has this way of coaxing things out of him without even trying. He approaches him with equal parts gentleness and insistence, like peeling back layers until Buck has no choice but to lay it all bare.
“It’s nothing,” Buck tries, voice thin.
“Evan.” Tommy’s voice is low, steady, patient. His thumb sweeps a slow circle against the back of Buck’s neck. “Talk to me.”
Buck blows out a breath, frustrated more with himself than anything. He leans forward, elbows on his knees, running a hand through his hair as if it might shake the thoughts loose.
“I don’t even know that I meant to save him,” Buck admits, his voice tight. “I can’t... I can’t tell if I pushed him because I heard the blade, or if I just— snapped.”
Tommy stays quiet for a beat, letting the weight of Buck’s words settle between them. His hand doesn’t leave the back of Buck’s neck, fingers still working in soothing circles. “Maybe it’s both.”
“Both?” Buck glances at him, brow furrowed.
“Yeah.” Tommy shrugs, his expression steady but kind, his gaze warm with quiet understanding. “You’re not exactly known for your patience, Evan. But that doesn’t mean your instincts aren’t solid. Maybe you snapped, and maybe you also saved his miserable life at the same time. Those things don’t cancel each other out.”
Buck lets the words sink in, his jaw tightening as he rolls them over in his mind. He exhales slowly, the tight knot in his chest loosening just a bit. “I– I don’t know. I keep thinking, what if– what if it wasn’t instinct? What if it was just... me losing control?”
Tommy’s thumb strokes a slow path along the back of Buck’s neck, and he leans in even closer, their foreheads almost touching. “You’re human,” Tommy says, his voice gentle. “You get angry. You hit your limit. But you wouldn’t have let him die, even if you wanted to knock his teeth out.”
Buck huffs out a wet laugh, shaky but real. “I definitely wanted to knock his teeth out.”
Tommy grins, brushing a kiss against Buck’s temple. “Rightfully so.”
Buck closes his eyes for a moment, letting himself sink into the warmth of Tommy’s presence, the steadiness of his voice, the way his hand stays firm and reassuring on the back of his neck.
“I just don’t want him anywhere near me,” Buck admits, well aware of how petulant and childish he sounds— and yet, he doesn’t care. Something about Tommy makes it easy for Buck to drop the mask he wears everywhere else, to let the frustration and helplessness spill out without fear of judgment. With Tommy, he doesn’t have to be composed or tough all the time; he can just be— messy, tired, and human. Tommy’s presence is like a safety net, one that will catch him no matter how ridiculous he sounds or how tangled his emotions get.
“I don’t know how I’m going to survive this,” Buck mumbles, scrubbing a hand over his face.
“You will,” Tommy says without hesitation. “Keep your head down, lean on all of us who’ve got your back, and wait him out. He's going to burn out or screw up sooner or later. You’ve just gotta outlast him.”
Buck huffs a tired, bitter laugh. “I’m not good at keeping my head down.”
“I know,” Tommy murmurs, his lips brushing the top of Buck’s hair in a soft, steadying touch. “But you’re good at the important stuff— like saving people. Even assholes who don’t deserve it.”
Buck closes his eyes, leaning into Tommy, the familiar weight of his hand still resting on the back of Buck’s neck. The knot in his chest loosens just a little more, the tension in his shoulders easing just a bit under the warmth of Tommy’s words. “Yeah, well... maybe I’m getting tired of being good at that.”
Tommy’s arms tighten around him, pulling Buck closer. “That’s okay, too,” Tommy says simply. His voice is barely louder than a whisper, low and steady and full of quiet, unwavering conviction. “You don’t have to be perfect. You don’t have to carry all of it by yourself.”
Buck closes his eyes, sinking deeper into Tommy’s embrace. This time, when those three little words rest on the tip of his tongue, he doesn’t swallow them down. Even though he knows they won’t ever be enough, he can’t think of anywhere better to start.
“I love you,” Buck whispers, the words slipping out like an exhale, simple and unforced.
For a moment, Tommy stays perfectly still, as if letting the words settle between them. Then, slowly, a smile curves against Buck’s temple.
Tommy presses a kiss to the top of Buck’s birthmark, soft and reverent. “I love you, too.”
And just like that, everything feels lighter. Not perfect. Not fixed. But it’s enough.
It’s quiet between them, the kind of silence Buck used to hate. The kind he used to scramble to fill with words, desperate to bridge the gaps. But here, in Tommy’s arms, the silence feels different. It feels easy. It feels safe.
It feels like home.
also on ao3
#my writing#911 8x03 coda#an angel falls every time lou's name is not in the opening credits#and this is how i cope#bucktommy#oh and one more thing because apparently it needs to be said????#if you don't like what i write please keep it to yourself#not even to yourself#keep it to anyone who isn't me#you can complain about me and my writing to your friends and in your group chats and to the cashier at the grocery store for all i care#but don't bring that shit to my inbox or my ao3 comments#please and thank you!#tommy kinard#evan buckley#buck x tommy#kinkley#the ally and the beast#kinley#tevan#firepilot#bucktommy fic#911 8x03#911 fic#coda
538 notes
·
View notes
Text
i'm sure this post has been made before but the "the list of people i trust and things i believe is down to no one and nothing" to "i trust angus mcdonald entirely" journey that taako takes in the span of roughly one in-fiction hour during lunar interlude reunion tour is so important to me. adventuring partners and friends who have saved his bacon more times than he can count? nah fuck em. organization that has protected him and given him a purpose and fresh start? new stone of farspeech who dis. this nerdy ass boy detective? "angus i trust you implicitly and here's the 100% exact truth as we understand it"
#taako is such an enigma. he's sexy he's unknowable he doesn't give a shit he cares more than anyone in the world#his relationship with angus is soooooooooo. to me.#stuff#taz#taz balance#the adventure zone#the adventure zone balance#taako#angus mcdonald#like also i know that taako says that first thing and then continues trusting magnus and merle and even barry kinda#but the fact that his verbal statements on trust just leap from point A to point B#within the span of about an hour maybe less and with like. NOT that much information gained in between statements#taako swift: i don't trust nobody and nobody trust me#taako 5 seconds later: o shit i forgot about boy detective. i trust 1 somebody
1K notes
·
View notes