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He doesn't know when the screams stop.

He doesn't know if they stop— he's far too gone to realize, though eventually, they stop.

He screams and screams— his throat burns and scratches and hurts, his eyeballs behind his closed shut eyelids feel like they're leaking and his brain feels like exploding; Buck keeps screaming until he can feel the metallic taste slowly growing inside his throat, until he feels like throwing up, until his own voice betrays him and doesn't want to come out and eventually, his gutwrenching screams slowly die down, only to leave their places to quiet, weak, sobs that he barely registers.

Bobby's dead.

He's gone.

Bobby is dead, and Buck will never be able to see him again until the day he dies.

Bobby is dead, and he's not going to come back, not in five years, not in fifteen years, not in this lifetime.

He's gone forever.

And— fuck, fuckfuckfuck god damn it because why— why him, they were suppose to get out, all of them; no one was supposed to be left behind and it was supposed to be okay and they were supposed to go home but nothing is okay and there is no home anymore and Bobby is dead, he's dead and Buck wants to scream, Bobby is dead and there are tiny little hundreds of spiders crawling beneath Buck's skin and Buck wants to dig the tip of his fingers and tear his flesh apart, his head throbs and Buck wants to claw his eyes out, there's blood rushing through his ears, kicking against his eardrums like thumpthumpthumpthump and Buck wants to rip them off. There is a cold sensation seeping inside his bones, freezing his insides and he's fucking trembling and it doesn't stop and he feels like he's going to explode except he doesn't.

Everything hurts, and Buck wants to run back inside, grip Bobby by the shoulder and shake him until he wakes up. He wants to shake Bobby hard and scream by his ear until he wakes up and tells Buck to shut up because Bobby can't die.

Not now. Not like this. It's just too soon. Too soon and Bobby can't go.

It's too fucking soon but no matter what Buck does, Bobby isn't going to wake up.

The earth will fall, but Bobby isn't going to wake up.

Eventually, Buck's screams fade away, but so does the warmth that once bloomed in his chest and wrapped him around like a blanket.

Now he just feels empty. He just feels numb.

"Evan."

A hand reaches for his arm. A figure crouching down in front of him and hands— shaky hands on his arms.

Tommy.

Buck's eyes sting too much for him to see clearly.

"Evan."

He doesn't recognize his own voice. It sounds weird, raw. "H-he—"

"I know."

No, no, he has to "He—" His throat burns. His mouth is dry. "Bobb—"

Bobby's dead.

"I know." Tommy says. He doesn't sound good, either.

He sounds tired.

Buck feels a squeeze on his arms, the good kind, but everything's just too much. Everything's a blur like he's floating. And he's just... there.

Tommy's fingers fold around Buck's bicep, gently urging him up. "We have to get out."

Tommy is right. They have to get out.

The kids, someone has to tell them.

He has to call Eddie. He should be the one to call Eddie.

Buck has to be okay. He has to get up and go, because that's what Bobby wanted. He has to get up.

He doesn't know how but eventually, with trembling legs, Buck leans on Tommy and slowly rises up on his feet.

His whole body burns, his head hurts, his heart aches but Buck gets up.

He gets up and no matter how bad his feet want to go backwards, to go back inside to Bobby, Buck takes a step forward, followed by another, leaving a piece of his soul behind.

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i was scrolling through the tags on the 'how many books have you read this year' poll and i just want every 0-5 book reader to know that whether you're dyslexic, you have trouble focusing, you have a job or other full time responsibilities, or perhaps you are just a slow reader by nature, that you're a better reader than this person

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Tumblr already has a personalization algorithm it's called my beloved mutuals who have great taste and only wish to psychologically damage me sometimes

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“How do you do that?” Celia said.

“Do what?”

“Act so cavalier about things that are sacred to other people?”

“Because other people have got nothing to do with me.”

Celia scoffed, somewhat gently, and looked down at her hands.

“Except you,” I said.

I was rewarded with the sight of her looking up at me.

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This close 🤏 to walking into a mysterious fog and never coming back

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tumblr is like a group therapy with no therapist.

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i’m forever a lover of the stars and the moon

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🍂🍄🍂🍄🍂🍄🍂🍄🍁🍄🍂🍄🍂🍄🍂🍄🍂🍄

May your autumn be cozy, refreshing, and full of love.

🍂🍄🍂🍄🍂🍄🍂🍄🍂🍄🍂🍄🍂🍄🍂🍄🍂🍄

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what are those. you know. the hiding places in english houses they used to put catholic priests in when that was illegal. what are they called. anyway kirkwall hightown needs those for mages. do you guys know what i’m talking abt or is this post unintelligible

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I’ve been wanting to do a thing like this for a while. Behold my amazing animu mongah skills there wow swoons

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I’ll be using this screenshot constantly forever

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Barbie (2023) dir. Greta Gerwig

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They should invent a tumblr mutual that lives nearby