soliloquy-please

[soliloquy-please]

Arthur: So you have magic?

Merlin: Uh… yeah?

Arthur: for how long?

Merlin: Since birth.

Arthur: And you’re a dragon lord?

Merlin: Yeah my father was and it gets passed down.

Arthur: Sounds like royalty.

Merlin: No? I don’t think so.

Arthur: Yes it is, that means you’re a noble, a lord. We can get married now.

Merlin: WHAT???

[soliloquy-please]

Who ever this was a big, thank you! I hope your holidays were fantastic! ❤️

Sorry I've been off Tumblr for this past month so I didn't see it tell just now! 💕💕

Also thank you kinley cafe for doing this ☺️!!!

@soliloquy-please

Someone sent you a gift! I wonder what it is…

Surprise! You’ve been nice this year, so you deserve Evan's Egg Nog !

Enjoy and happy holidays! We hope your new year is full of joy~

[soliloquy-please]

[soliloquy-please]

If they bring Ravi back as more featured character or a prominent love interest I'll maybe start watching again! Definitely want more Ravi!

(Though his return at the loss of my big man I mourn)

If buckravi actually happens I want every bucktommy nation citizen to be SUPPORTIVE.

If I see any of ya mf being toxic Istg

[soliloquy-please]

PRAYER CIRCLE FOR BRUCE WAYNE TO SURVIVE RAISING THE MOST PERFECT CHILD EVER

[soliloquy-please]

art dump

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perhaps some will disagree, but i think the world got worse when we changed the colour of the night

[soliloquy-please]

nightwing & robin ii

[soliloquy-please]

A lot of these already exist :D! Have you read these yet? If not I recommend! They are just amazing fics in general!

For Vampire au

"Something To Sink Your Teeth Into" 🧛🏻🪄

by @totallyjustabunchofhocuspocus yet! It's a vampire/witch magical urbanism AU! (Perhaps my favorite genre and one of my favorite world builders)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/58342165/chapters/148588207

For Coffee shop AU ...but with a twist Buck is working as a caterer. (It's a whole different world but still the same? Everything is a little turned on its head!)

"We Flame To Please You" ❤️‍🔥☕

By EatsLessBirthdayCake

https://archiveofourown.org/works/56387722/chapters/143273908

Now that we got over the grief, can we get more bucktommy au fics??

Where's the vampire aus?? The coffee shop aus?? The boss/employee aus?? The college aus and hogwarts aus and bodyguard aus–

I demand my rights (multiverse bucktommy)

[soliloquy-please]

You know what I think about the Lakers tickets??

I think it's actually so fucking cute. No, 'cuz bear with me, when Buck told Tommy that getting his attention was exhausting, Tommy thought "aw, he maimed his best friend for me." He doesn't think "he came to a bastketball game to see me even though he doesn't like basketball," because guess what, he doesn't know.

Tommy had no reason to know, he didn't even know Buck or Eddie that well, how would he be able to translate "he always says no to me" to "Buck doesn't like basketball and is now suffering because his gay ass won that round."

And what I find fucking cute is the idea that Buck probably felt embarrassed and every time it was brought up, every time he saw how endeared Tommy was at the meeting that basically kickstarted their relationship, the day that they had their first kiss even- how could Buck ruin that and going "hey, so, I don't actually like basketball?"

[soliloquy-please]

GET READY TO BID!

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These were generously donated by Reapersun for Three Patch Podcast. 100% of proceeds from this sale will directly benefit Three Patch Podcast and our activities at 221b Con 2025. 

[soliloquy-please]

Okay, bear with me on this, but I am more and more convinced that 911 is in this mess with BuckTommy because they picked up a very audience-favourite trope and then, did not follow through with it till the end. What I am talking about is the 'if you are going to be bisexual, it better be for someone who's worth it' trope. We see this in most mainstream bisexual representation nowadays - schitt's creek, heartstopper, rwrb and I wouldn't say it is the best representation or the healthiest one but it is a hopeful approach and one that makes bisexuality palatable to a much wider range of audience than it would otherwise be, kind of like how 'gay for you' worked but with a step in the right direction. It also kind of subverts all the negative representation of bisexuality that we have seen so far, with the non-monogamy, sexual perversion and cheating etc and at the same time, establishes the bisexual identity in a more romantic sphere - where you are bisexual because you loved this person enough to question yourself. It is okay rn because it is so new, practically not even 5 years in the making, but it could turn harmful because that is sadly not how bisexuality works.

Now, coming back to BuckTommy, they followed this formula because that is the best way to go when your audience is not that educated on all things sexuality. If they were going to make Buck bisexual after 6 seasons of straightness, they had to put someone opposite him who would make the audience feel like 'yes! I too would question my sexuality for that guy'. So they created Tommy and they literally went the sugar and spice and everything nice route. We see other characters complimenting him and whatever else you say, you cannot claim that firefighter pilot who can fly in a hurricane does not sound fucking cool. But . . . the problem starts because they dragged it out and in an attempt to make him worthy of Buck's bisexual realisation, they kept building him in a way that would make him perfect for Buck. And this thing worked for the other shows/movies/books because the relationship is endgame in every single one of them. it works because they are literally created to be the only ones for each other. But if Tim's words are to be believed and Tommy is only the beginner relationship, he's done the math in the wrong formula here because he's accidentally created an endgame character for a temporary arc so obviously, when everything went down, the equation did not match for the audience. They are used to things happening a certain way and a cable tv procedural is not where you expect a subversion of tropes especially when that trope is nowhere near saturation point yet.

[soliloquy-please]

The voice echoes. He's coming in and out of it, desperate to open his eyes, desperate to make sure he can actually feel all his fingers and toes, but it's hard.

He knows that voice though. He knows he does.

The building hadn't been as stable as they thought it was. Probably in the investigation later on they'll discover building codes not up to standard, faulty evacuation plans. He got the kid out, though. He knows he got the kid out.

Eddie too, he's pretty sure.

".. uck!" The voice yells. It's kind of funny, he thinks to himself, as he can feel the strings of consciousness slipping, how much his name sounds like a curse when you're having a hard time keeping things straight. And then everything fades to black.

---

---

"Buck, please. Just wake up."

He wants to, is the thing. It's not like he's not trying, he wants to tell the voice, wants to be a little petulant about it too. That feels like the right attitude to have, for some reason.

It's hard to breathe. Might be something has him pinned. He'd seen beams falling, he's pretty sure.

"Goddamnit!" the voice yells, and Buck strains to remember. "I can't move this fucking thing unless you're able to get out from under it on your own, so wake the hell up. C'mon. Give me something to work with."

Buck wiggles a toe. Fucking ow.

Fingers, next, and that - that's a whole new ballgame of pain, but holy shit he can feel it all. Jesus Christ it hurts.

"For fucks sake, Evan, I'll take anything, at this point. Please."

Buck's lips suddenly feel a lot less numb. He does know that voice.

Hasn't heard it in three weeks, except for on the voicemail he'd left three months ago complaining about downtown parking for the hundredth time and letting Buck know he was gonna circle the block again, but -

"T- Tommy?"

Buck blinks his eyes open just in time to see Tommy drop to his knees near Buck's head, a relief filled sob echoing around the space. Buck takes the opportunity to stare.

"Hey," Tommy says, breathless, the corners of his eyes wet, his turnouts fully covered in dusty debris. It's an achingly familiar sight, even if he's significantly less sooty than the last time.

"You swear a lot more on the job," Buck notes, and Tommy bites out a desperate laugh, slipping a hand from a glove to reach for Buck's cheek.

"How are you feeling?" Tommy asks, and Buck crinkles his nose, widens his eyes. He laughs again, and Buck - God Buck has missed this but he's still having trouble taking in a full breath and - Tommy pulls a hand away from Buck's neck. "Your pulse is steady. Elevated, but you should be - can you wiggle fingers and toes?'

"Hurts like hell, but yeah."

"Well. A building just fell on you. So that tracks."

Buck takes stock of himself, even though he feels goddamn miserable taking his eyes away from Tommy.

Sure enough, there's a beam barred low across his chest. Definitely at least bruised ribs, if not broken ones. He can't see much over it, but it feels like he's got full, painful movement in his legs. "Tommy, I think my halligan's pinned with me."

He snorts. There's nothing funny about this, but Buck finds himself snorting back, the two of them bouncing off each other until Buck eventually winces at the pressure and Tommy gets himself under control. He's fully crying now, wet fat tears streaked through the dust on his face. "Thank fuck I am also a firefighter," Tommy says, and Buck prepares himself for the moment Tommy gets the tool under the beam at the right angle to lift. "How's your pain?" Tommy asks, when he's situated.

"On a scale from ladder pinning my ankle to lightning strike?"

Tommy scowls.

"I'll be able to move if you make room. If that's what you're asking."

Tommy eyes the space. The beam. The settling dust and the only real angle he's got with enough leverage to make space for Buck to slide himself free. He won't be able to help Buck pull himself out. "The moment you have an inch you move backward as fast as you can. There's at least two yards of clearance behind you, and I'm not dropping this thing on your fucking head by accident."

Buck nods.

Tommy grabs his chin. "Verbal confirmation, Evan," he demands, suddenly so serious Buck has to swallow back a bratty retort.

"One inch, pull myself backwards."

Tommy nods. Situates his hands. "Good." And then before Buck can brace for the pain he's lifting the beam.

It's fast. So fast Buck doesn't have time to scream, or listen to the signals from his brain telling him he's fucking dying. Tommy lifts, Buck scrambles, and he has just enough room to clear his legs before rubble shifts to their left and Tommy's dropping the halligan to roll his entire body over Buck's.

A few broken pieces of concrete roll to a stop before they reach the two of them, and Buck beams up at Tommy. "Little bit of an overreaction, don't you think?"

Tommy settles his weight. Tips his chin so that he can see Buck beyond his visor. "I feel like maybe you aren't taking this as seriously as you should."

Buck shoves a shoulder against Tommy's weight, and he rolls right off, lays side to side with Buck while they both catch their breath. It's such a fucking familiar position that Buck fails to stifle a laugh.

"What are you doing here?" he asks, when he's calmed down enough that Tommy has stopped asking him concussion protocol questions.

Tommy sighs. Turns to his side, and Buck knows this position, too. They never did it in turnouts, though. "They grounded us an hour before the collapse."

"I heard," Buck presses. "I also heard the 217 was working fire suppression on the perimeter."

Tommy looks guilty. He rolls his neck, reaches out under the guise of checking Buck's pulse again.

Buck doesn't stop him.

"Yeah I might be fired," he says, and then shrugs a shoulder. "They called for full evac and when Eddie came out with that kid but you didn't -."

Buck feels a little breathless again. He almost asks Tommy how much he's got in his tank - Bucks's ran out a while ago. But they seem - pretty firmly trapped. Buck can't see an exit point, and he's almost positive there's not enough room for both of them to stand at the same time. They'll need that oxygen. "You came after me?"

Tommy sighs. Seems satisfied that Buck's heart is still doing what it's supposed to, and that he's not leaking internally. When he shifts his hand, it's not away - callused hands catch the underside of Buck's chin, fingers curl over his cheek. "I'd tell you not to read into it, but..."

Buck's breath catches. He holds it. There's - he has no idea how much air they have. They don't have time (or enough air, maybe) for Buck to lean up and kiss him. "Tommy."

"We'll talk about it when we're both safely out of here and bundled in our shiny blankets. If the 118 doesn't kill me first."

"What...?" Buck doesn't know what that means. They did everything they could to convince him not to reach out but they also weren't, like, calling for his head. He wants to know what it means. Tommy's brow goes up.

He shifts to his knees, holds out a hand. "Help me look around. See if we can find an air pocket."

He helps Buck to a kneel of his own like it's nothing, and despite the creaks and groans and the sting of sore muscles, Buck doesn't think there's anything permanently damaged. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It'll keep, Evan."

More than anything, Buck wants to call him out on that. The implication that Tommy knows more about the 118's current feelings on Tommy than Buck does. His name, suddenly back in play like Tommy hadn't used the lack of it to dig the knife in.

Buck shifts his weight and checks for his flashlight. Aims up, first, as high as the beam of light will go. There's really not much room in this little pocket of space.

He can hear Tommy shifting on his knees behind him. They need to be smart. Conserve air, conserve energy. Buck had been near a sidewall when the building came down, but who knows how long it'll take for the building to be stable enough to attempt a rescue. Maybe they're still gonna die in here, after all.

God, he doesn't want Tommy to die.

"Back to Evan, I noticed," Buck comments, doing a terrible job of not sounding eager, and he can hear the heaving breath Tommy takes, the way the shift of his body just pauses.

"The thing is, the moment I realized I might not have any more time, all I wanted was another five minutes. Just to hear you breathe. See your face. You wouldn't even have to know I'd done it, just -." He sucks a breath in through his nose. "I just realized the pain is still worth it."

That spurs Buck into action, because - because they're not gonna die - not here, not now, not for as many years as Buck can squeeze out of this life. He shifts. He pokes. He checks for light beyond the pockets between rubble. He takes even, measured breaths around the rapidly tightening muscles around his ribs and the moment he feels a draft he almost cries.

"Tommy!"

He turns to catch his eye, thrilled, ready to drag him over and -

"Tommy?"

He's slumped on his side. And - and god damnit, Buck is so fucking stupid, he should have checked Tommy too, should have known if he was hurt he'd hide it like the massive asshole he is.

There's nothing obvious until Buck pulls at his turnouts, and then he has to hold in a scream so he doesn't bring the rest of the place down on them.

---

---

The paramedics don't fight him when he shoves his way into the ambulance behind them. No one does, not as he's shoving Hen and Chim away from him while they desperately try to check his vitals, not when Eddie takes one look at the rebar sticking through Tommy's side and his face goes fucking white.

He crashes twice on the way to the hospital.

---

---

Buck comes to slowly, and is immediately pissed, because he's in a fucking hospital bed.

Eddie leans over him when he sits up. "Take a second, man."

"Did you drug me?"

The eyebrow raise is a little condescending. "You passed the fuck out in the middle of the waiting room when they told us Tommy's surgery went well."

Well that's - that's - oh God, Tommy's okay. He remembers now. Tommy pulled through. Tommy was out of surgery and they were setting him up in a room and it'd be a while before he woke up but he was -

"I wanna see him."

Eddie chuckles, and Buck seriously considers throwing something at him, but before he can find something to toss Eddie's leaning sideways in his seat to pull the curtain divider away. "Even the nurses were taking bets that you'd kill a man if they put you in separate rooms."

He'll have to thank Gina later.

Tommy's still asleep. In repose, he breathes deep and even, eyes fluttering behind his lids, and Buck remembers what an active fucking sleeper he is, how much it had infuriated him that Tommy could never remember his dreams. God.

He's bruised around the eyes, there's a clean shave on the side of his head where he'd taken falling rubble in his mad dash past the kid Buck had sent ahead of him. The hospital gown looks so stupid on him.

Buck glares when Eddie tries to wrangle him back under his thin blanket - swings his legs over the side and tries not to wince when he puts his weight down and feels exactly how fucked up his ribs are. The bindings are tight. He's gonna need help rewrapping them.

"Tommy said something about you guys wanting to kill him. Know anything about that?"

It's a little accusatory. A lot, actually. Eddie sighs. "He tried to bring your shit by the station a week later when he knew you were off shift. Chim and Hen weren't, uh ... particularly nice about it."

Buck blinks. He still hasn't gotten any of that back.

"So he just ...took it back? Didn't leave it behind?"

"Oh he took about fifteen minutes of having his head bit off and then grabbed the box and shoved it back in his bed before he left."

Despite how absolutely ridiculous that all sounds, it makes something sizzle under his skin. If it was all just adrenaline, all just heat of the moment panic, Tommy would have left that box anyway.

They know so much and still so little about each other.

He's pretty sure he might actually get the chance to know more now. Even if he has to pry it from Tommy piece by piece for another decade or five.

Buck shoves that thought right down and gives himself the next two days to think about.

"And what'd you do, while they were berating him?"

"Oh, I threw like three loaves of bread in there with your stuff while he wasn't looking."

"You gave him my moping bread?"

"Two of the sourdoughs and an Irish soda bread."

"What if he didn't open the box back up?"

Eddie shrugs. "I hedged my bets. Either he opened that box back up to do his own moping or eventually there'd be some moldy ass bread in there."

"I hate raisins, by the way," comes the croaky voice to Buck's left, and Buck doesn't hesitate to wheel his saline bag the extra foot to reach the bedside. Buck knows that already. He'd made the soda bread out of spite, at three in the morning when he realized the second pillow still smelled like Tommy's shampoo and he'd remembered the almost-argument they'd had about wet hair on the pillows.

Tommy's hand meets Buck's halfway, and his smile is tired and magnificent.

Eddie smirks. "So you opened the box, then."

Tommy doesn't look away from Buck. His fingers squeeze. "I opened the box."

"Eddie, I need you to go distract Gina for like, three and a half minutes."

"...I know I'm going to regret asking," Eddie says.

"Tommy's hooked up to a bunch of monitors that are gonna make some extra noise in a second here, and they've already seen us making out in this hospital, they don't need to be alerted to another free show."

Eddie's out of his seat immediately, and halfway out the door when he turns back. "Just so we're all on the same page, this is not me encouraging this. You two are just walking talking piles of trauma and you can't just kiss about it and suddenly everything is fine."

Buck can taste the bitchy comment on the tip of Tommy's tongue. He squeezes Tommy's fingers and counts himself lucky when all Tommy does is make a dismissive noise in the back of his throat.

It's not like Eddie's wrong.

The door clicks shut behind him.

---

---

Tommy sets aside a third jello cup and stares at the cards in his hand. He glances through his lashes as he sets two cards down on the pile. "Two sevens."

"Bullshit."

His eyes gleam with challenge as he flips them both over and Buck has to take another loss. He doesn't care, is the thing. He'll happily lose at cards to Tommy for the next -

Six months is a reasonable length of time, probably. They've hit that mark once before.

Tommy shifts his weight, grimaces, and Buck is on his feet in a heartbeat. "You need another pillow? Change the angle of the bed?"

He laughs, soft and warm, rolls his eyes. "That joke I made about you guys needing your own ward? You may not have it named after you, but it's practically the Ritz around here. All the nurses have come by like six times just to see if I needed my pillow fluffed. I'm good, Evan." Buck settles back into his seat. "I just have a hole the size of a boba straw in my side."

"It was significantly wider than a boba straw."

"Could still suck a tapioca pearl through it," Tommy reminds him, almost petulantly. It's been a treat discovering that Tommy can throw it back almost as well as Buck when he's ornery about being bedridden for a full two days.

Buck finishes rearranging his cards. Grabs three random ones and sets them atop the pile. "Three eights."

Tommy stares at his cards. Glances up at Buck. Turns his gaze to his cards one more time.

"One nine," he declares, and Buck doesn't even complain that he'd fully let him off the hook there.

---

---

Tommy is actually the worst patient in the world. They have to have Eddie over to wrap Buck's ribs for at least a week, and Tommy refused to take any pain meds home with him, and every morning when Buck fusses with the dressings on Tommy's side Tommy stares in the mirror and complains that the scar isn't even symmetrical to the one on his ribs. Buck spends twenty minutes reminding him he'd have a punctured lung, if that was the case, and that seems to shut him up for a little while, at least.

"Hey," Tommy says, on day eleven, when Buck leans over him on the sofa to say goodbye and head back to the loft. Tommy's fine, really. He needs rest and leaving for the night isn't going to kill either one of them. Still, he tugs at Buck's belt loops until Buck allows a knee to bend and press into the cushion beside him. "This is not me asking you to move in with me."

"What -?"

Tommy presses something into his hand. It's warm, like Tommy's been smoothing it in his palm for a while, grooved along the edge facing Buck's fingers. "Yet," he says, softer than before, watching Buck palm it with a smile that Buck is beginning to fully understand the implications of.

It's a key.

Buck blinks. The years stretch ahead of him. Grumpy grizzled Tommy bitching about the towel rack having too many wet towels on it. Silver fox Tommy grinning over some flirty kids head at Buck as he tries to make it back to the booth they got to the bar early to camp at. Tommy, tomorrow, fondly annoyed when Buck confesses he can't watch another true crime documentary or it'll actually kill him.

"I love you," Buck blurts, and feels like crying when Tommy tugs him close for a kiss.

[soliloquy-please]

He stumbles into exactly the conversation he was hoping to avoid on his way to grab his sad chicken and rice lunch from the fridge.

"... but if Buckley wants to reconcile, I think we can't in good conscience let Tommy fly for at least a month, Cap," Lucy is saying, still chewing on a piece of broccoli. "Ground that pilot."

Vogel and Natasha are both nodding their heads. Tommy would like to fling himself into the sun.

"Kinard is a grown man, he doesn't need us babying him."

Lucy scoffs. "Trust me, Cap, this is not about Tommy. This is about the Curse, and I'm telling you right now, if this isn't a mutual parting of ways, amicable thing, the firefighting gods are gonna be gunning for Tommy on his behalf. That's how it works."

Cap squints at the three of them, and Tommy is fairly certain he's trying to think of the most politic way to tell them they're insane.

Only.

"How do we convince him this isn't wild superstition based entirely on the likelihood Evan Buckley's life is a soap opera?"

Tommy slams the fridge shut and decides no one will mind if he takes a long lunch to go buy and eat an entire pint of ice cream.

[soliloquy-please]

i’m obsessed with them actually

[soliloquy-please]

Cages in the Sandman: Sleep of the Just

One thing I really appreciate the handling of in the Sandman show is the cage- or should i say cages in the first episode. Dream's and Alex's, that is. I'd like to give this frame in particular (and the scene it belongs to) as an example:

There are several things I enjoy about this frame, and not just that it looks gorgeous. I love that the iron bar of Dream's cage is between their hands, literally and visually keeping them separate from each other. I love that the arch of the basement over Alex's head mirrors the iron arch over Dream's, the shape of Dream's cage rippling out into the world surrounding him, the thing that Roderick Burgess built trapping not only Dream but himself and Alex too.

I love that the mirroring is not 1:1. The camera itself is tilted at an angle, and Dream's cage isn't exactly flat, either. Despite being both caged they are not on equal footing. Dream is suspended, precarious- and actually, if we were to right the angle, Dream would be reaching down to Alex... but he isn't. In fact Alex is almost looming over Dream here, still visually in a position of power despite it not quite looking the same were we to see the same image flat.

I also love the stark difference in lighting and clothes, which I feel tie together in this shot. There are seven light sources in frame alone, all in the basement and outside Dream's cage, and yet Alex is cast in darkness as well as dark clothes in contrast to Dream who despite the lack of lighting is illuminated and vulnerable. For Alex he can afford to hide in his father's shadow- it's not his fault, Roderick was the one who imprisoned Dream, etc... while Dream doesn't have a choice but to have everything on display against his will. And, it's of course a reminder that to at least one person, Alex cannot hide from his mistakes. He has no choice but to see Dream exactly as he is: starved, naked, alone, and continuing to be this way unless Alex makes the choice to free him, which he doesn't.

Finally, I love that this takes place after Jessamy has been killed, and after Roderick has died. Alex is indignant that Dream treats him the same as his father, but Dream absolutely does not! Even after Alex has murdered Dream's best friend and only hope at getting out, Dream offers a hand out to him, something he never did for Roderick. And it's almost an understanding gesture- almost an I understand that you couldn't free me while your father was here, but now he's not, so now you can!

But he doesn't! Because he's so used to their roles, their separate cages, that he continues to inflict them on both of them! Despite all evidence showing that asking for anything in exchange for freedom Will Not Work Out, he still does it. Despite Dream being perfectly willing to reach out to him pre-demands!

Because by God he's determined to keep them in the exact same cages they've both been in since 1916!

[soliloquy-please]