#don’t worry buddy

[thehmn]

Are you a “I miss being a child with no responsibilities” person or a “Thank god I’m no longer a child with zero freedom” person?

[aylinaliens]

pa: stop looking at me with those eyes...😳 ink: what eyes???🥺☺️

[iinryer]

“so be bold, be brave, be strong

and show them that stone walls can fall”

lyrics from ally by we the kings

[sadpanda]

Evan “at least when I date someone I date them” Buckley going on a date with a man and calling himself an ally

[tenisperfection]

There’s something that’s not been sitting well with me regarding reactions to this episode, and that’s the barrage of anons and people asking queer people who are really excited about this storyline about Buddie. It’s the way they all expect us to insist and placate them that we still believe that Buck’s endgame is Eddie. Feel what you feel and all that but to be honest, while I love Buddie and nothing about my belief in their relationship has wavered, I want to celebrate this storyline on its own merit. This is Buck’s story and it belongs to no one else. Not Eddie, not even Tommy, though they play roles in it and I’m sure will continue to do so. Similarly, Bucktommy is a relationship that deserves to be celebrated and talked about on its own without needing to bring Buddie into it. I trust that the creators will take this storyline forward and bring it justice and I do believe it will align with what a lot of people in the fandom want, but meanwhile, I’m going to enjoy the hell out of Buck going on this journey of love and self discovery and pleasure and joy as a queer man in his thirties, and I’m very glad it’s with someone like Tommy.

[buckslvrz]

oh you’re joking.

[alivingtypo]

That interview where Ryan says Buck and Eddie are going to be closer than ever (yknow the one where he is bright red and got all our hopes up) has kinda shifted in my mind bc of the rumours of Buck’s money troubles, like now “closer than ever” feels like just a way of saying they will live together idk

[weewoo911]

Torn between wanting to see every moment of Buddie first kiss/getting together and also thinking it would be so funny if it happened completely offscreen

Like we just have a scene in the loft with Maddie or someone dropping by and Buck is definitely acting Weird but they don’t call him on it and after they leave Buck goes back upstairs and we just see Eddie shirtless and asleep in his bed

[geonbaeeee]

MY COMMISSIONS ARE OPEN! 💝

Check out my cardd for more details & (link) samples. ☺️

[isbergillustration]

Today is mostly a writing day but found more canvases to repaint. In progress.

[hippolotamus]

Seven Sentence Sunday 🫶

Tagged by @thewolvesof1998 @wikiangela @jesuisici33 @daffi-990 @loserdiaz @disasterbuckdiaz @weewootruck @exhuastedpigeon @spotsandsocks @hoodie-buck @eowon @stereopticons Thank you loves 💕 (make sure you check their snippets if you haven’t!)

I’ve been in a writing slump, but challenged myself to come up with at least 7 sentences for today. I’m quite proud of myself! A fresh snippet of you’re where I wanna go (follows this snippet)

“Do you think he’s going to be okay?”

“Let’s hope so.”

“Somebody’s got to be missing him.”

Buck drifts in and out of consciousness, noting the unfamiliar voices — just two he thinks — around him. His body is heavy with exhaustion, too much to be able to open his eyes or make any sound of acknowledgment. He’s also vaguely aware of the throbbing pain at his left eye and a dull, though no less intense, ache in his stomach.

“Why don’t you go back to bed, get a few more hours. I’ll keep watch in case he wakes up.”

The intent doesn’t sound malicious or make Buck think he’s in any danger. But he’s certainly made that mistake before.

“Bobby, are you sure? I don’t mind staying here with you. You know what? Never mind, I’ll make some tea.” A pause. “Not sure I could sleep anymore anyway.”

There’s a soft, familiar noise, like a gentle affection infused kiss, followed by retreating footsteps. If he wasn’t already in so much pain — disoriented from whiskey, numbing cold, and heartbreak — that tender gesture might be the thing that sends him over the edge. A show of love and devotion that he’d had. A comfort that was stolen from him time and time again. Although, sometimes it was never his to begin with.

A swelling pang in his chest tries to take over, but he’s too broken and weary. It’s quickly squashed under a fresh wave of fatigue he readily succumbs to.

It’s late so no pressure tagging @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @elvensorceress @giddyupbuck @steadfastsaturnsrings @pirrusstuff @monsterrae1 @eddiediaztho @forthewolves @wildlife4life @chaosandwolves @heartshapedvows @your-catfish-friend @statueinthestone @buddierights @911onabc @the-likesofus @fionaswhvre @barbiediaz @ladydorian05 @apothecarose @rmd-writes @welcometololaland @vanillahigh00 @lizzie-bennetdarcy @honestlydarkprincess @spaceprincessem @watchyourbuck @gayedmundodiaz and anybody else who wants to 🥰

[fischiee]

york lives au where he’s in hiding after all the shit that went down and meets tucker in some bar and they both give each other the same shitty pick up lines until

until they

they fu

[zsbrainrot]

A little Otayuri because I miss Yuri on Ice.

[clusterbuck]

i heard we’re speculating about couches

the thing about the loft is—

the thing about the loft is buck walks in after a shift one day and can’t remember the last time he felt at home in it.

for half a second he thinks maybe it’s because taylor’s gone, but—taylor’s been gone for weeks, and he’s pretty sure this feeling predates her entirely.

buck drops his gear bag by the door and takes a couple of steps, spinning slowly in the centre of the open-plan apartment and taking it all in. he can’t remember what he saw in it, that first time he came to see it with ali, but it just seems lifeless now. cavernous, like everything is out of reach. cold, sterile, all white and wood and stainless steel. all hard lines and sharp corners, like it was never intended for comfort. like it was never intended as a place to rest.

it doesn’t feel like home, but as buck stands in the middle of the floor he starts to wonder if he’s ever felt at home at all.

his phone is in his hand before he even makes the conscious decision to call eddie, and as the line rings he lowers himself to sit on the floor.

“buck?” eddie answers, and buck lies back on the floor.

“what does home feel like?” he asks.

“what?” eddie asks. “buck, are you—”

“can you just tell me?” buck asks.

“only if you tell me what’s going on first.” a car horn honks in the background, and buck realises eddie must not even be home yet.

“nothing’s going on,” he says, but it’s unconvincing even to his own ears.

“buck.”

“i’m just—thinking about something, okay?”

“about home?” eddie asks, a little softer.

“yeah,” buck sighs. “i just—might hate my apartment a little, i don’t know. it’s fine. don’t worry about it.”

“anything in particular?”

“i don’t even have a fucking couch, eddie,” buck says. “so—i don’t know what home is supposed to feel like, but i don’t think it’s this.”

“sure you do,” eddie says. “i mean, it’s different for everyone, but—”

“eddie,” buck says. “can you just—can you just tell me what home feels like?”

“okay.” eddie hums, thoughtful, and buck can’t see it through the phone but he knows exactly what eddie looks like now, the expression he wears when he’s collecting his thoughts into a form he can present to the world.

“it feels—” eddie finally starts, and sighs. “i don’t know if i know how to explain it. it feels comfortable, i guess. it feels like you belong, like a place you’re supposed to be. it feels familiar, and warm, and when you come home it feels like a relief. kind of like—like crashing in the bunks after a long call, when you can finally let go of everything and just—be. you know?”

“i—” buck says, the words cutting off. it feels like his throat closes up, constricts, because—he does know. he knows the feeling eddie described, knows exactly what it feels like. he knows that he’s felt it before.

just not here.

“buck?” eddie asks. “you okay?”

is he okay. “i’m, uh—” buck says, swallowing around the realisation still sitting on his tongue. “yeah?”

“try again,” eddie says.

“i don’t know,” buck says, and eddie hums.

“okay,” he says. “don’t go anywhere.”

“where would i go?” buck asks.

“i don’t know, just don’t,” eddie says. “just—hold on.”

he hangs up, and buck clasps his hands over his stomach and stares up at the ceiling and thinks about how stupid it is that the only place he’s ever felt at home is somebody else’s house. what does that say about him?

barely five minutes later he hears the sound of a key in the door, then footsteps walking over to him. eddie appears above him, his face upside down as he peers down at him and holds out a hand.

“come on,” eddie says, his face curving into a smile buck recognises even topsy-turvy like this. he’d recognise it anywhere, he thinks, in a crowd, through frosted glass and in faded photos and through the haze of tears pricking threateningly at the backs of his eyes.

“where?” buck asks, taking eddie’s hand and letting himself be pulled up.

eddie doesn’t answer until buck’s on his feet, swaying into his side. “home.”

[codgod]

the fitpac enjoyers on my dash have infected me i keep having random thoughts about them. anyways what about fit learning how to paint nails, maybe from tallulah because i think that’d be cute, just so he can offer to paint pacs as an excuse to hold his hands without actually holding them. is that anything

[ghost-bxrd]

Guys, I—- I—-