#LEAVING NOW. BYE

[xxplastic-cubexx]

One Question

[hasnomoxxie]

I FORGOT TUMBLR EXISTED

UH-

UM-

ILL GET ON MY PEPPIBLAST SHIT SOON-

...UMM

JESUS CHRIST HOLDING BLUEY

Yeah that'll do it

[rassblerry]

COWBOYSSSS YIPPEEEEE

[niinnyu]

2025 gang :D

[shimp-the-not-understanding]

Take a wild guess which one of these are my favorite. Also here all the Tea arts out of the video

which one is your favorite tea?

[lat-ino]

I no have phone anymore. Pls enjoy these crappy ones

[honkshoo-zzz]

i rendered an artwork. simply,,, lovely

details n ref below the cut :]

they're so dumb and stupid and i hate that they look like fuckin--

yes this is the reference. former formula one drivers, mark webber (playing the role of mick mundy, sniper tf2) and seb vettel (playing jeremy willis, scout tf2); they look suspiciously like them and i am afraid of the implications

[siratonin]

so... nsfw? i wrote it at work tho lol - a little mess

“We should stop doing this”

Tommy mutters, but his voice shakes—because even as he says it, he sinks down onto Buck, breath hitching, his body betraying him, clutching at Buck’s shoulders like he needs something solid to hold onto.

Buck’s head tips back, his breath stuttering, hands gripping Tommy’s thighs. "You keep saying that" he bites out. "But you’re still here. Just like last time. And the time before that."

Tommy exhales sharply, trying to pace himself, to not let this get messy—but it already is. “You should stop calling me, Eva—mmhhm—” his voice cracks as pleasure spikes through him, but his frustration is still there, thick and hot.

Buck lets out a bitter laugh, rolling his hips up just to hear Tommy gasp. "And you should stop fucking showing up."

Tommy’s breath stutters, frustration mixing with pleasure. "I show up thinking maybe this time—unghh—t-this time we could—uh—talk!" His nails dig into Buck’s skin, his voice cracking with something more than just arousal.

Buck’s lips curl into something sharp, his grip tightening as he thrusts up hard. "Mm 'like this better."

Tommy shudders, but his glare is heated. "Evan—fuck—" he groans, breathless.

"What?" Buck grits out, hands locking onto Tommy’s waist, driving up into him, his own breath ragged. "You wanted to talk? Fine—let’s talk. Why the fuck did you leave?"

Tommy’s head falls forward, chest heaving, struggling to keep up. "You know—shit—you know why."

"Do I?" Buck throws back, his fingers pressing into Tommy’s hips, holding him in place so he has to feel every inch of him. "Because all I remember is you saying no—like everything we had wasn’t fucking real to you."

Tommy whimpers, but shakes his head, rolling his hips against Buck’s. "That’s not—" He swallows, biting back a moan. "That’s not what happened."

"Then fucking—hhaa—tell me what did, Tommy." Buck’s voice cracks mid-sentence as Tommy clenches around him, but his frustration keeps him going. "Because all I saw was you walking away like I didn’t—nghh—like I didn’t fucking matter."

Tommy gasps, moving faster, chasing friction, even as his breath stutters. "You—fuck—you wanted something I couldn’t give you."

Buck groans, head pressing back against the pillow for half a second before snapping forward again, voice tight. "Jesus, Tommy—fuck—do you hear yourself?"

"I’m serious!" Tommy argues, voice cracking as Buck thrusts up sharply, pulling another moan out of him. "You wanted me to be—nnnh—something I’m not!"

Buck lets out a frustrated breath, gripping Tommy’s hips and pressing him down fast, forcing a broken moan from Tommy’s lips. "What does that even fucking mean?"

Tommy exhales hard, hands scrambling against Buck’s neck. "You wanted—fuck, Evan—" he gasps as Buck presses deeper, "you were so sure!" His head tips back, mouth falling open on another moan. "Like it didn’t even—hahh—cross your mind that maybe—"

"Maybe what?" Buck pants, rolling his hips, pressing his forehead against Tommy’s neck for a second before pulling back.

Tommy swallows, blinking fast, body trembling. "That maybe you’d wake up one day—nnnh—and realize you didn’t actually want me. Just the idea of me."

Buck groans, his body shaking now, his fingers twitching where they hold Tommy. "That’s fucking bullshit."

Tommy lets out a sharp breath, his hands sliding over Buck’s back, desperate for something to hold onto. "I was—fuck—I was your first, Evan." His voice is thinner now, breathless between moans. "You didn’t even take a second to—mmhh—to stop and think—"

"I knew, Tommy—" Buck grits out, voice wrecked, his body moving faster, harder, "—you think I didn’t know what I felt?"

"I didn’t want to be some fucking lesson for you," Tommy breathes out, his legs trembling now, his whole body drawn tight, so fucking close.

Buck growls, frustration surging through him, his grip tightening—and then, suddenly, he flips them, pressing Tommy down into the mattress, stealing the breath from his lungs.

Tommy gasps, his body arching up instinctively, hands grabbing at Buck’s arms. "Evan—"

Buck’s breath is ragged, his eyes dark and blazing, his weight pressing Tommy down. "You weren’t a fucking lesson, Tommy." His voice is low, wrecked, burning with something real.

Tommy blinks up at him, breathless.

"That’s why you left?" His voice is sharp, incredulous. "Because I wanted a fucking future with you?"

Tommy exhales roughly, his hands shaking as they grip Buck’s shoulders. "Because it wasn’t fucking real to you!"

“What are you talking about?” Buck grits out, thrusts slowing for just a second.

“You wanted me to move into your loft, Evan.” Tommy’s voice is nothing but breath and desperation now. It was not the loft, Tommy thinks. Never about the loft. But that's what his mind threw out.

Buck lets out a sharp, breathless laugh, thrusts turning messy but relentless. “Oh? That was the problem? Silly me—okay, okay, I have a house now, is that good for you?”

Tommy groans, his nails digging in, his body caught between pleasure and anger. “That’s not—” His breath hitches as Buck drives deeper, forcing a gasp from his lips.

“Oh, come on, Tommy,” Buck pants, voice dripping with bitterness, his forehead nearly brushing Tommy’s. “You don’t want the loft, fine, let’s check that off the list. What else? Want me to prove I know what I want? Want me to—nghh—get down on my fucking knees? Say I’ve never wanted anything more?”

Tommy whimpers, his whole body shaking now, his fingers tightening against Buck’s skin. “Evan—fuck—stop—”

"No, Tommy," Buck groans, breath hot, lips barely an inch away. "Tell me—tell me why you couldn’t just let me fucking love you.”

Tommy gasps, his body arching up, pleasure and frustration colliding, and then—he’s coming, wrecked and breathless, his whole body tensing under Buck.

Buck follows seconds later, burying himself deep as he shudders, groaning into Tommy’s skin, his grip bruising, like letting go isn’t even an option.

For a second, they just breathe, tangled up in the mess they made.

Then—Tommy shoves at Buck’s chest, slipping out from under him, and immediately starts grabbing his clothes.

Buck lets out a sharp, humorless laugh, running a hand down his face. "Of course." His voice is hoarse, exhausted. "Fucking course you’re leaving."

Tommy doesn’t respond. Just snatches a tissue off the nightstand, wipes himself down with quick movements, then tosses it aside without looking. Yanks his jeans up, his hands a little too fast, a little too shaky.

Buck watches him from where he’s still sprawled, sweaty and flushed, eyes lidded. his heart hammering like it always does when Tommy starts to go. "You know you’re just gonna come back."

Tommy huffs out a sharp breath, grabbing his jacket before throwing back, "Yeah, maybe next time we could actually talk." There’s an edge to his voice, just a little mean.

Buck exhales through his nose, rolling his eyes as he drops back against the pillows.

"Yeah," he mutters, voice rough. "Sure."

*

And when Tommy doesn’t answer his texts, when Tommy doesn’t show up at his door, when Athena walks into the station, her expression unreadable, and says, “Buck, we need to talk,”—

That’s when he knows. It might be a little too late.

[beeduoo]

i really like that one tiktok

[seolinguk]

– Andrew Garfield

[xxplastic-cubexx]

crusty evolution redraw. in theory.

[jung-koook]

jungkook's heart shaped glasses ♡ (cr. 3cmgoogie)

[moghedien]

Aylin yelling at you to leave so that she can fuck her wife is only made better by Isobel being like "*in the tone of someone who often has to apologize for her very intense wife not having an inside voice and being very intense and direct at people all the time* Sorry about that. Leave immediately."

[marimbles]

if ive been at a restaurant cheerfully and enthusiastically waiting for the chicken parm to be served for like 5 hours, am I not allowed to be disappointed that it turned out to be salmon instead. sure salmon is really tasty to some people but what if I just don’t like salmon. why are they serving salmon in the chicken parm restaurant? “it’s such an interesting surprise that the chef brought out salmon! I can’t wait to see what’s for dess—” no. bring me my chicken parm .

anyway that’s how I feel in the miraculous ladybug fandom rn lol

[gomzdrawfr]

a/n: long ass doodle, badly done, mostly just to project some stuff, but it's hurt with fluff featuring @karlachismylife's OC Ved'ma, Graves, Price and Nik (at the very end lol)

Peace and Thoughts

[todayisafridaynight]