cypherpunkism

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this scene was literally the prettiest he's ever looked so of course i had to draw him<33

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AU thoughts about Buck, a little older but still as adventurous, taking a chance on a transfer and moving somewhere rural to run a struggling firehouse. 

Buck has a skeleton crew of a few fulltime firefighters and a handful of volunteers, and it takes a little time to get used to having a band of characters who turn up for free when he calls on them to. 

There’s one guy, Tommy, who he can always rely on. Buck’s not even sure the guy sleeps because sometimes he just shows up and says he’s there to do general maintenance around the firehouse or check the inventory. More often than not he’s just driving by and thought he’d bring coffee for Buck and anyone else who happened to be around.

He always waves off gratitude like it pains him to accept it but he’s loose with praise and Buck always gets a thrill when Tommy claps him on the shoulder and says nice job, cap. He must have 15 years on Buck but he never challenges him. He’s quick to give an opinion when he’s asked but otherwise he shows up, does his job like an old pro, and goes home.

Tommy has a single-engine airplane that can hold 800 gallons of water. He’s saved everyone’s ass more than once. No one really knows where he came from, or how long he’s been around, and while there are endless theories about where he lives his actual location is nothing but legend and guesswork.

Buck’s kinda fascinated by him. He takes a chance and asks Tommy if he wants to go for a drink – Buck’s new in town, after all, and who better to bring him up to speed than the guy everyone relies on? Buck has so many questions and Tommy has all the answers: he’s a town historian and citizen biographer all in one. He knows when to rein in the gossip but he isn’t afraid to be a narrator with teeth and guts when the opportunity’s ripe. 

Buck thinks he could listen to him all day, and he thinks maybe Tommy could listen to him all day, too. Long after last orders, Tommy walks Buck home because Buck’s on a roll about the time he gained insane maths abilities after being struck by lightning.  It takes them twice as long to get there because Tommy keeps stopping dead in the street to ask him the specifics and tease him with 1st grade math questions.

Buck invites Tommy in without actually doing it – Buck’s still talking when he unlocks the door and steps inside. He interrupts his own story to tell Tommy to lift the door when he closes it so the warped sweep doesn’t catch. Tommy says he’ll come by and sand it down and bring some spare weatherproofing. Buck manhandles him to the sofa and sits him down saying will you just relax? and then grabs them a couple of beers. It’s my job to look after you, Buck says, popping the cap from the bottle. I don’t know if you noticed but you’re kinda my responsibility.  You got it, kid, Tommy says, and Buck thinks he might have to ask Tommy to check the furnace because he flushes hot like he’s just opened a door onto an inferno. Maybe they should check the carbon monoxide detector instead because it feels insane that they’re kissing and pulling each other up and towards Buck’s bedroom.

And when Buck, unashamed and honest, tells Tommy this is all new for him Tommy says well, guess it is my job to look after you, then, isn’t it? and Buck can definitely get on board with that for the night.

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OLIVER STARK as EVAN 'BUCK' BUCKLEY 9-1-1 - S08 E04 · No Place Like Home

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yay i can now share the piece i contributed to the bucktommy zine! entitled “trip to santorini”

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Evan Buckley is a 33 year old adult.

He is not being groomed by his 40 year old boyfriend.

He is, however, being gaslit by a close friend for whatever reason 🤷

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let's play a game called recognizing fascist talking points, using umberto eco's 14 characteristics of fascism, and how they relate to Ryan's latest little story

Screenshots below but just fyi: this is literally every single post. There is no way of engaging with this content without implicitly agreeing with their values, because their content IS far-right white supremacist slop – there's no subtext here.

"It's no coincidence that everyone who begins to take responsibility for their own life turns into a conspiracy theorist"

sharing quotes from a doctor whose license was suspended in 2001 due to complaints and investigations, and has since started shilling homeopathic remedies

Reel about "them" destroying the family unit and "children spending most of their hours with strangers learning ideas and values that don't align with their families'"

conspiracy theories about the globalist elite in control of society's money

upholding traditionalist gender roles because "men these days get too feminized"

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Hahaha what the fuck?

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people will cry about representation for years and years and then say the most blatantly homophobic things about canon queer characters for no reason

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Oliver just posted a new story talking about returning to set soon! ✨

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melting thinking about the casual ways we saw tommy check in with buck throughout their relationship. “like that?” and “so was that okay?” after their first kiss. “are you okay?” after buck had a particularly hard day. “‘for the moment?’ what does that mean?” when he was worried buck that wasn’t okay after he dislocated his shoulder. “how’s that?” to make sure his pillow was fluffed right and that he was comfortable for bed time. “so. . . how are things?” the first time they saw each other post-breakup, “so, how’d you sleep?” after a night spent together months after their breakup. . .and so many other moments of casual, and earnest check-ins that likely also happened in the offscreen moments of their six-month long relationship given that it was a constant in their onscreen ones. . . and just. sweet, gentle tommy. he cares about buck so much and it’s so so evident….his boy. tommy loves his boy :’)

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New pictures from Oliver’s photoshoot with Principle Magazine.

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hearing Tommy call Buck sweetheart would fix me

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For the summer prompts: Buck, Tommy, and the simple but sweet joy of flagging down an oncoming ice cream truck for a little treat (and Buck sucking the half-chewed gumball eyes from Tommy's ninja turtle popsicle right out of Tommy's mouth)

why hello there <3 life has taken over, but I hope you enjoy this somewhat sentimental and fluffy ice-cream fic that got a little out of control + wandered away down the road. liv x

Buck’s new neighbourhood has a lot of plusses: close proximity to work, family run grocery store within walking distance, neighbours who wave good morning as he’s getting home from work. 

The neighbourhood kids who seem to resent his presence are one of the drawbacks but Buck’s doing his best not to take it personally. The pastel blue treehouse in his backyard is a reminder of why they’re so sullen but Buck knows how much losing a friend and safe place sucks so he’s giving them the time they need to work through it.

They’re still abandoning their bikes on his front lawn which is kinda annoying, but Buck knows a thing or two about finding comfort in rituals, so if tearing around the block and throwing their bikes down on his grass helps them cope then who’s Buck to complain?

Tommy can do that for both of them. 

‘Do you want me to talk to them?’ Tommy asks, scanning the block from the window. 

‘And say what?’ 

‘Uh, can you stop leaving your bikes on Evan’s lawn?’ Buck can’t help but laugh, and it makes Tommy laugh, too. ‘What? You’re the one who’s afraid of The Goonies!’

Buck scoffs and narrows his eyes, but before he can find something teasing or witty to say Tommy’s eyes widen in horror – ‘Oh my god,’ Tommy groans. ‘Oh my god, you’ve never seen The Goonies, have you!’ 

Incredibly, Buck’s seen The Goonies, but he loves the look Tommy gives him when he thinks he’s about to broaden Buck’s horizons too much to say anything. It’s a look he’d almost lost forever, and he’s committed to pretending to be clueless once in a while so he can bask in it. 

While they’re checking if they can stream it, Buck says, ‘I’m not scared of them. They just want their friend back, Tommy. You know they all carved their initials into the treehouse in the backyard? I didn’t know kids still had treehouses in 2025.’

Tommy’s face softens in sudden understanding. He nods and presses a kiss to Buck’s cheek. Tommy’s about to say something when the distant jingle of an ice-cream truck shifts his focus. He throws the remote down and grabs Buck’s hand. ‘C’mon. Lemme get you something sweet.’

They jog down the block hand in hand, joining the small line of parents waiting with their kids. Behind them, the neighbourhood kids, bikes still abandoned on Buck’s lawn, count their change and whisper amongst themselves. 

‘No way! You can still get these?’ The genuine joy and surprise in Tommy’s voice brings Buck’s world to a single point. He watches, amused, as the ice cream man hands over a Ninja Turtles ice-cream pop in a frostbitten wrapper. Buck asks for a Strawberry Shortcake and Tommy bats Buck’s hand away when he tries to pay. 

The kids are still counting their change when he and Tommy make their way back to Buck’s place. Their arms knock when they take a seat on the few steps leaving up to Evan’s front door. The concrete is hot through the fabric of Buck’s shorts and he tears his wrapper open to get the cool treat inside. 

‘I haven’t had one of these things in like 30 years,’ Tommy says, unwrapping his ice cream tenderly.

It’s some approximation of Leonardo; the eyes are lopsided in an endearing way and the blue smile has smeared into a smirk. He takes a bite from the green head and sighs. ‘Little different but’ – Tommy taps a gumball eye on his front teeth – ‘oh yeah, still hard as rocks. I chipped my back tooth on one of these bastards in 1990.’ He pops them out with his tongue and lets them rest inside his left cheek. ‘The trick is to warm ‘em up before you chew ‘em.’ 

Buck takes a bite of his and the crumb coating is still as soft and sweet as he remembers. He doesn’t need to close his eyes to imagine the green smell of cut grass, the swelling buzz of cicadas or the scent of pool water on his skin. It feels like the Pennsylvania summer is alive on his street in LA.

Comfortable and wrapped up in their memories, they stretch out their legs and let the sun kiss them. Buck slips his sliders off to see how long he can handle the hot surface beneath them.

‘I loved the Ninja Turtles when I was kid,’ Tommy says. ‘All I wanted was to be as brave and cool as them.’ His tongue is tinged green when he pokes it out for another lick. ‘And they always made me laugh… even when there wasn’t anything to laugh about.’ 

Buck would tell Tommy he thinks he’s brave and cool but he’s worried it’ll sound insincere. He knocks his arm against Tommy’s instead. It means I’m listening and thanks for sharing because that’s something they do now, freely share the things about themselves without worrying about shattering whatever illusion they’ve built up of each other in their heads.

Tommy tells Buck about the Ninja Turtles pasta he learned to cook when no one else was around to, the cereal that he’d powered through just so he could get a new box and another chance at a toy, and the Turtles Pies – the holy grail, according to Tommy – that he only ever managed to get once but that he’s still thinking about thirty-four years later.

Tommy’s almost down to the popsicle stick. ‘I’m too scared to watch it again, though, just in case it doesn’t live up to my memory of it.’ 

Buck gets that, and he tells Tommy – ‘Sometimes the memory is better than the reality.’ Only sometimes, though Buck thinks, as Tommy’s eyes catch the light.

Across the road, the neighbourhood kids are talking and licking their ice-creams standing in a semicircle – a force of habit, Buck guesses, saving room for the one who used to stand there with them. 

‘I always wanted a group of friends like that when I was kid,’ Buck admits, motioning to them, ‘but all the parents said I was a bad influence. My stunts still drew crowds from two towns over, though.’

‘Like Bart Simpson.’

‘Exactly.’ Not even the memory of having an ego as bruised as his knees can shake how content Buck feels right now. They really should have done this before, just sat and talked, instead of relying on their ideas of each other.

But the thing reblooming between them feels as certain and beautiful as the sunset leading them into a hot night, and when they’re both down to the stale wood of their popsicle sticks Buck has to lean over and lick the taste of tropical punch right off Tommy’s tongue. 

It’s a shock when one of the squished gumballs slips into Buck’s mouth and Tommy giggles and presses his lips to Buck’s harder to keep it inside. It’s weirdly intimate sharing someone else’s gum but Buck’s had a lot of firsts with Tommy and this is just another one on a long list.

They make out for so long they miss the approach of hesitant footsteps. It’s a cleared throat and excuse me that shocks them both into separating with a smack. Four kids stand in front of them and stare at the sky, the ground, Buck’s roof – anything but him and Tommy.

One of them, a boy with scraped up elbows and a pair of sunglasses Buck couldn’t afford until he was twenty, clears his throat. ‘Um, Mr. Buckley’s boyfriend?’

Something in Buck’s chest flutters when Tommy doesn’t correct him and instead says, ‘Just Tommy’s fine.’

‘We just wanted to bring you your change, Tommy.’ The kid holds out a few coins. It's not much, it's not even a dollar’s worth. ‘That was really cool of you to buy us all an ice-cream.’

Did Tommy do that? Buck hadn’t even noticed. The guy running the ice-cream truck’s about to become another one of Tommy’s pals, he supposes, especially now Tommy knows who has a stash of his favourite childhood ice-cream. The kid comes closer and hands it over. Tommy pockets it and says, ‘No problem. It’s my good deed for the day.’

The kids hover awkwardly. Tommy chews his gum while Buck’s gum rests stale and tough in his mouth.

‘You can call me Buck. Just… Mr. Buckley makes me feel super old and kinda weird.’ Buck squints up at them. The sun’s dropped low, and the kids' shadows are longer than they are tall. ‘H-hey, um, ask your parents but uh, when I’m not here you can use the treehouse in the back. I haven’t checked it out but it looks pretty awesome.’ 

Their faces light up one by one, like lightbulbs being flickering to life in a long, dark hallway. A relieved chorus of thanks, man and really? precedes fist bumps and high-fives that heal something in Buck he didn’t know was broken and then the kids are on their way and riding their bikes down the street while waving goodbye. 

‘Damn,’ Tommy says, ‘a hero on the job and the streets.’

‘Oh, shut-up, ice-cream man.’ Buck gives Tommy a playful push that Tommy goes boneless against. ‘Bribing kids to be nice to me, seriously.’

‘Just giving you all an incentive to bridge the gap.’ Tommy kisses Buck’s cheek. His lips are sticky. Quietly, and just for them, he says, ‘We didn’t have childhoods worth missing but they should.’

Buck hums in agreement. Later, after pretending to be surprised throughout the duration of a film he’s seen more than once, Buck starts planning his next bake. Something just for Tommy – a close-enough dupe of neon green Turtles Pies.

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Queerbaiting is when a bisexual man dates a gay man instead of his straight best friend.

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I'm on a need to know basis, no one tells me shit unless I need to hear it

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eddie diaz