geekfan67

[geekfan67]

Wakes sucks. That is all

[geekfan67]

also way too many of you equate being uncomfortable with being traumatized and i think that is smth u fundamentally need to fix bc life is not going to cater to your every whim and acting like the world is against you for bringing you discomfort occasionally is not the move. we live and we experience and that is the point of it all

[geekfan67]

ever thought of calling (when you had a few?)

Post break-up, Buck gets drunk and calls Tommy to pick him up. Tommy shows up every time. post-break up, fix-it 3.8k words

Buck didn’t mean to drink so much. He’d been out with Hen and Karen and when they called it a night, he had decided to follow some new friends to another club, to keep the night going. He didn’t want to be left alone in the loft with his thoughts, not tonight.

The club is fun, thumping bass vibrates through his body as he moves among the throng of people. Then, shots start going around and he rapidly starts feeling dizzy and too-hot, too-much.

He ignores the people calling his name, as he pushes through and out of the sweaty, suffocating masses. The fresh air is a relief to his overwhelmed senses and overheated body, and he doesn’t think twice about dropping down to sit on the curb. He can’t call Maddie to pick him up, or Chim or anyone from the 118. They’d all fuss over him, shoot him worried glances and probably stage an intervention— and he really doesn’t need that right now.

He should order an Uber. He should. He will.

And then, he remembers the first time Tommy had picked him up, when he’d been all giggly and tipsy, after a late night with Chim and Hen. Tommy was just coming off a shift and Buck felt terrible for calling, but Tommy only smiled at him, so tenderly and told him, “I’ll always come for you, any day, any time. Always.”

Before he knows it, Buck’s dialing Tommy’s number and his heart races, as he waits in suspense for Tommy to answer— if he even will. The seconds feels like hours and he’s about to hang up when Tommy picks up.

“Evan?” He sounds sleepy and tired, but it’s music to Buck’s ears. He’d only been left with the ghost of his voice these past few months.

“Hello?”

“S- sorry. Um, I don’t really know where I am and I- this is dumb, I’ll just—”

“No, don’t go. Are you okay? Do you need help?” Concern bleeds through Tommy’s voice and it makes Buck’s heart ache in his chest. A pang goes through the cavity in his ribcage, where Tommy is still lodged.

“ ‘M okay, just drunk.”

“Do you need me to call someone for you? Maddie?”

Buck bites the inside of his cheek. “No, please don’t. She’s pregnant and I don’t want to worry her. Do you think.. can you pick me up? Please?” His voice grows small, bracing himself for rejection.

“Evan, it’s late, I don’t know if—”

There it is, the sting.

“It’s fine, forget I said anything.”

“I’ll be there. Send me your location?”

Buck sighs, eyes teary with relief.

“Thank you, Tommy.”

“Of course.”

Read more on AO3

[geekfan67]

For the lovely @agentpeggycartering - apparently the only way I can write is by coming up with something new and ignoring everything else. Set in Cinda's Nora-verse ❤️

"Papa?"

Buck hurried to grab Nettie as she tried to pull herself up onto the couch next to him. Even at nearly three, she was nowhere near the climber Nora had been at one, a fact Buck and Tommy were thankful for daily.

"Yes, sweetheart?"

He set his paperwork aside and focused fully on his daughter. Tommy had begged him to start bringing some of his paperwork home instead of doing it at the station so they could have more time as a family, and promised him at least an hour a day where he would entertain the kids so Buck could work. It was a successful plan overall, but occasionally one of the four escaped. Most often Nettie, full of questions she wanted to ask Buck even when, most often, Tommy knew the answers just as well.

"What's e-mote-tal dis-dess?"

This time, Buck was stumped. "I'm not sure, sweetie. Where'd you hear that? Maybe I can figure it out."

"Nico was crying cuz Nora's bugses were all over and Papa said she has to put them away and she was mad cuz she said Nico's and Nino's and my toys can be out in the playroom so it isn't fair her bugses can't and Papa said it's cuz they give everyone e-mote-al dis-dess."

"Oh," Buck had to forcibly hold back a laugh. "I think Papa said 'emotional distress.'"

"Hmm." Nettie thought for a moment. "What's e-mote-ten-al dis-tress?"

"Well, you know how Papa and Nico don't like Nora's bug toys because they upset them?"

Nettie nodded seriously. "Nico was crying," she reiterated.

"That's emotional distress - when Papa and Nico see the bugs, they get so scared they sometimes cry."

Nettie looked up at him, her eyes huge. "Papa cries?"

Buck nodded very seriously, because he couldn't risk his laughs escaping and Nettie thinking they were aimed at here. "Sometimes he does. Everyone needs to cry sometimes. Normally it's something more than the bugs, but if they startle him enough he might. But even if he doesn't cry, he still feels really bad, which is why he wants Nora to make sure to put her bugs away."

"Okay!" She wiggled out of his lap and onto the floor, taking off at a run toward the playroom. Buck had just picked the paperwork back up when he heard Nettie yell, "Nora! No making Papa cry! No more bugses!"

Buck couldn't hold it in anymore, and he lost himself in laughter before getting back to work.

[geekfan67]

reblog if you wear glasses. too many mutuals don't know they have glasses wearers in their midsts

[geekfan67]

reblog to give writers the power to write 10k words of porn without plot

[geekfan67]

This is how s9 begins. I know it.

@_mymsgs on X #tevan #bucktommy #tommykinard #evanbuckley

[geekfan67]

LOTR

[geekfan67]

I want him, Tommy thinks, floating on a cloud of pleasant, careless giddiness. I want him.

And some voice in the back of his mind warns: Wait. You don’t deserve him. 

Tommy’s hand twitches back, startled, but it doesn’t matter, because Evan is on him the next second, growling , as he pulls Tommy out of the bar, into a car, to the house, into a dim hallway.

It’s Eddie’s house. And it’s kind of ironic, but Tommy can’t remember why, not with Evan pressing his face into the crook of Tommy’s neck, taking deep searching breaths, and then starting to mouth at the skin there, the hard line of his erection pressing against Tommy’s leg.

Soon, he can’t think at all.

On his knees on a mattress, his fingers digging into the meat of Evan’s hips.

On his back, his nails sliding down Evan’s back, his lips meeting Evan’s hiss and moan.

On his stomach, biting his own arm because it’s too much and not enough at the same time.

Somehow, Evan is still moving. Grinding, touching, biting, licking …

It’s too much. Liquid fire, eating Tommy alive.

He moves away with a pained whine, and Evan nods in agreement, muttering something unintelligible, disentangling their bodies with a shiver, reaching for the blanket, his eyes unfocused and hair tousled and skin shiny in the moonlight.

Tommy fidgets with the edge of the mattress, uncertain of his next step, of whatever’s supposed to come next, should he leave, should he stay, should he find somewhere else to sleep, should he -

Every question dies when Evan clumsily moves to put the blanket over both of them.

Oh.

“Missed you,” Evan mutters into the pillow, eyes closed.

“I missed you too,” Tommy breathes, resisting the urge to reach out and run his hand through Evan’s hair because that seems too tender for something that looks like a one-night stand.

Evan sighs. And soon starts to snore softly.

Tommy watches him for a while, tired, but not yet ready to fall asleep. Because once he falls asleep, this night will be over. A new day will start. And Tommy doesn’t know what will happen. This wasn’t in the script.

The longer he stares, the more Tommy feels the cold of the night and the hard floor underneath the mattress. The pleasant cloud carrying his thoughts changes into an abyss with sharp edges, tearing them open.

Telling him: This isn’t a dream. But it’s not meant to last forever either.

But he said he missed me. He was fighting the urge to call me. He missed me. Like I missed him. Doesn't that mean something? Can't this be another chance? Maybe there's really something that pulls us togehter ...

When he looks at Evan, Tommy wants to hope.

But in his experience, hope is a fever dream. It’s a collapsing building. It’s your mother telling you everything will be alright one day before she’s diagnosed with cancer, and it’s your Dad telling you now it’s only him and you, one day before he tells you to man up and stop crying like a little baby. Hope is the drug you take to deal with the fact that nothing lasts forever and that most things that you thought would make you happy are just lies you told yourself and everyone else to fit into an idea of a life.

Evan makes him happy. Happy enough to get scared. And when he’s scared, Tommy tends to run. But if Evan wants him to stay, maybe he can be brave.

And ask.

For another chance.

Tommy likes to have plans for whatever comes next. This has to be enough for now. He closes his eyes and falls asleep to the sound of Evan's breathing.

(AO3 Link)

[geekfan67]

people are absolutely EVIL about the boundaries of "picky eaters". no, they do not have to try it. yes, they can know they don't like it without having eaten it before. no, they probably have not suddenly grown a taste for the food they've said they hate. no, they probably are not going to like it in the Special Way This One Place Cooks It. yes, you are being a bad friend if you try to "trick" them into eating it anyway

[geekfan67]

in third grade on the swing with my friend i announced “i figured it out” and my friend said “figured what out” and i said “the meaning of life!” and being third graders this was very exciting so she leaned in and i whispered in her ear “it’s to have fun” and i don’t remember her reaction but i remember how i felt and how i knew so clearly that was the answer. how my small mind was beaming and shimmering with this answer that makes me scoff today but i know that they were right. i was right

[geekfan67]

i didn't have "i'm broken" teenage asexual angst i had "i'm literally being the only reasonable one about this concept and the rest of you are behaving like fucking freaks" perception issues

[geekfan67]

How are you all buying homes!?? I’m lucky to have bus fare some days.

[geekfan67]

Maybe by doing that, they could spot the leakers.

hello??? (×)

[geekfan67]

911 + text posts (4/∞)

[geekfan67]

I’m too cranky for summer

I know there has been polls about this, but I'm asking again:

[geekfan67]

Me right now and I’m way older than 35.

People have actually said to me, and rudely, “Don’t you wish you could have done this when you were 35?” This is the truth: I couldn’t have done it when I was 35. I didn’t know enough. I hadn’t experienced enough. Every artist has their own personal evolution. I’m a very slow bloomer.

— Helen Pashgian