#phone specs

[newspatron]

POCO X6 Neo: Power-Packed Phone at a Steal - Your Guide

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Discover why the POCO X6 Neo, with its stunning display, powerful specs, and incredible price, is shaking up the smartphone world. Let’s explore its features and where to snag the best deal. editor@newspatron.comWhat is the Price of the POCO X6 Neo and Where Can I Buy It?Design and Display: Elegance Meets PowerPerformance and Software: Powerhouse Under the HoodCamera: Capture Your Moments with…

[siratonin]

this is a mess, written directly into the tumblr app lmao, but it wouldn’t leave my head so here... have it. post 8x15, cw: grief, canon mcd

It was past midnight. Maybe closer to two. That hollow hour where the city curled into itself—too late for night, too early for morning—and even the birds hadn’t begun to stir.

He sat slouched on the couch, shoulders caved in, like he could fold himself small enough to disappear. The beer in his hand—fourth? fifth?—had gone warm, but he held it anyway. The TV played something pointless, volume low, just enough to fill the room with something that wasn’t silence.

Not that it helped. The real noise was in his head.

Bobby’s voice hadn’t left him. “You’ll be okay, Buck. They’re gonna need you.” Said like it was simple. Like Buck’s world didn’t collapse on itself. He’d replayed that moment so many times it burned behind his eyes. all He could think was—how do you stay standing when the person who kept you grounded is the one who’s gone?

Maddie’s voice followed after, soft, pleading, “You don’t have to be okay right now, Buck. You just have to let yourself feel it.”

But he didn’t want to. Couldn’t. Because feeling it meant naming it. And naming it meant breaking apart.

Too much.

Everyone felt like they were slipping, like the world had tilted and no one knew how to catch their balance again. Buck didn’t either. So he didn’t try. He sat. He drank. He told himself he was fine. Numb was easier. Numb was safe.

But even that was starting to splinter at the edges.

So he stayed still. Let it all swirl inside—grief, guilt, confusion, anger—tangled so tightly he couldn’t tell one from the other. He didn’t cry. Didn’t scream—not again, not yet—He just sat there, breathing in static and beer fumes, whispering the same thing over and over in his mind,

Tomorrow. Tomorrow I’ll try again.

Tomorrow he’d be better. He’d hold it together. He’d be who Bobby believed he could be. Tomorrow, he’d show up for everyone again.

But tonight—tonight he just needed to hold it together long enough to survive the quiet.

Too much. Too loud.

Until a knock shattered it.

Not loud—just enough to cut through the fog.

He blinked slowly toward the door. Didn’t move.

Another knock. This one didn’t ask. It forced him to get up.

“…Tommy?”

Tommy stood there, jacket zipped, windblown, eyes soft, worried.

“Hi,” he said, breathless. “Thank god… I tried calling you, Evan. A lot. You weren’t answering.”

Buck stared. Not surprised. Not upset. Just… tired. He looked at Tommy like one might look at a dream they’d almost forgotten.

All he could think was how badly he wanted to crawl inside Tommy’s ribs and stay there—where it was warm and safe and beating.

But he didn’t say that.

He didn’t say anything.

He just stepped back, left the door open, and leaned against the back of the couch.

Tommy lingered a moment before asking, careful, “Can I come in?”

Buck shrugged, eyes flicking away. Voice too thin to use.

Tommy stepped in, shut the door behind him, and slowly made his way to Buck’s side. His gaze fell to the cluster of beer bottles on the table. He didn’t comment.

Instead, he asked, “How are you doing?”

That made Buck laugh—a hollow, breathless thing. “How am I supposed to answer that?” he muttered, barely above a whisper.

Tommy nodded, didn’t press, but stayed near.

Buck gave more shrugs. One for every question.

“Have you eaten anything?”

Shrug.

“Are you sleeping at all?”

Shrug.

“Did you even talk to anyone today?”

Another shrug. He didn’t even bother pretending to think about it.

Buck didn’t look at him. Just let the words hang in the thick air between them, one hand tightening around the neck of his beer like it was the only thing keeping him upright.

Tommy exhaled slowly, like he was trying to hold something in—something fragile and fraying.

“I gave you time,” he said softly. “Told myself maybe you needed space. But, Evan…” He stepped closer, just a little. “It’s been days. You weren’t answering anyone. I-I had to come.”

Tommy’s next breath was sharper. Pushed to the edge of fear. “Will you answer me instead of just shrugging everything away?”

Buck’s jaw twitched. He looked up at Tommy like the question was too sharp to forgive.

“Why?” His voice cracked, low and bitter. “What do you want me to say?”

He gestured vaguely—at the room, the bottles, maybe even himself.

“Of course I’m not okay. But I’ll get over it, right? That’s what people do. They move on.” He shook his head. “What do you expect from me, Tommy?”

Tommy’s hand half-lifted, like he was going to reach for him. Then dropped.

“I want you to talk to me. I’m trying, Evan. I’ve been trying to reach you, and you keep running.”

Buck scoffed. Bit down the anger rising under his skin. That sting blooming behind his eyes wasn’t anger—it was something worse.

“…Ironic, huh?”

Tommy didn’t flinch. Didn’t smile.

“Evan... I’m worried.”

That. That broke something.

“No…” Buck said, shaking his head, almost childlike.

Buck slid down the couch, spine curling, breath hitching—like the act of staying upright had finally become too much. He pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, like he could shove the feeling back in before it escaped.

Tommy followed him, kneeling, close but not touching.

Waiting.

“No…” he whispered, barely audible. “I have to be strong. They need me.”

Tommy moved closer, voice low and warm. “Sweetheart, you are strong. That doesn’t mean you don’t get to feel things.”

Buck shook his head, sharp and frantic. “No, Tommy. No. If I…” His breath hitched again. “If I let myself—i-if I feel this, I won’t be strong. I won’t be anything.”

He looked up at Tommy then, glassy-eyed and terrified. Not of what had happened. Of what was still inside him, waiting to be felt.

Tommy's expression broke. He reached out, just to offer.

“Oh, Evan,” he said, voice catching. “You will be. I swear to you, you will be. But right now? At this moment? I don’t need you to be strong. You don’t have to hold it all alone. You can let go if you need to. I’m here. I’m right here.”

There was a long silence. One that stretched between them, breathless and trembling. Like Buck had seen some kind of opening—like he wanted to step through it.

But instead, he squeezed his eyes shut again. Tighter. As if doing so might stop everything from spilling out.

“No…”

And then, finally, like it cost him everything

“I can’t,” Buck whispered. “If I lean on you… if I let myself break… and you leave—if you leave me—I won’t be able to pull myself back together.”

Tommy’s breath hitched.

Buck’s eyes were shining now, glassy and unfocused. “You show up, and I’m so thankful—so damn grateful… but Tommy—” His voice broke around the name. “I need someone to stay.”

His voice cracked then, thin and trembling, every syllable held together by the last thread of his strength.

Tommy reached out, hand resting gently on Buck’s arm.

“I won’t leave.”

Buck looked at him, disbelief painted in every line of his face.

“Yeah?” he asked, so quietly, like he barely dared to hope.

“I promise you, Evan,” Tommy said, firm, no hesitation. “If you let me, if you allow me to stay, I promise I will never leave.”

Buck wanted to believe him. God, he wanted to. He needed it.

But he shook his head, squeezed his eyes shut like the hope itself was too much.

Tommy’s hand stayed firm.

“Evan… I never made promises before. Not to you” He swallowed. “But I’m making one now.”

And maybe it was that—the honesty. The raw, trembling truth in Tommy’s voice. The fact of it.

Maybe Buck believed him.

Because he didn’t answer. Didn’t move.

His fingers loosened around the bottle without realizing it. The beer slipped from his hand, hit the floor with a soft thud, and tipped—its contents spilling, seeping slowly into the rug.

But Buck didn’t look down.

A tear slipped down his cheek. Just one. Quiet. Unnoticed, maybe even by him.

Tommy saw it.

He moved gently, carefully—like he was stepping into a space sacred and fragile—and slid closer. Then, without a word, he reached out and pulled Buck into him.

Buck didn’t resist.

Didn’t hesitate.

The second Tommy’s arms wrapped around him, Buck collapsed.

Head pressed against Tommy’s chest, arms wrapping around his neck, fingers clutching at his shirt like a lifeline. His breath caught—hitched—and then shuddered out of him in one long, broken exhale.

Tommy could feel Buck’s heartbeat—too fast, too loud—pressed against his chest. Like even Buck’s body wanted it out, didn’t know how to hold this much pain.

And then another breath.

And then he cried.

No sobs. No wails. Just quiet, shaking grief—like something finally cracked open and couldn’t be closed again.

Tommy held him tighter, one hand moving slowly up his back, the other cradling the nape of his neck.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered, voice breaking with him. “I’ve got you, sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere.”

That’s what undid him.

Buck's fingers clenched tighter in Tommy’s shirt as the words tore out of him—small and cracked and soaked in pain.

“He told me I’ll be okay, Tommy…” His voice trembled, catching on each syllable. “I’m not. I’m not okay. I never will be.”

His body shook with the force of it, like admitting it made everything real.

Like the grief had finally found its voice—and it came out sounding like him.

Tommy didn’t speak right away. He just tightened his hold, one hand steady against the back of Buck’s head, the other splayed between his shoulder blades, grounding him.

“You will be,” he murmured, barely above a breath. “Maybe not tonight, maybe not tomorrow… but you will be, Evan. I promise you.”

Buck shook his head, a broken, desperate motion, forehead still pressed against Tommy’s chest.

“I didn’t even say goodbye. I didn’t say anything.”

“He knew, Evan,” he whispered. “I promise you—he knew.”

Tommy closed his eyes for a second, like the weight of it hit him too.

But his arms never loosened.

Tommy tightened his grip slightly, one hand smoothing up Buck’s back in slow, steady strokes.

“And you still can. Whenever you’re ready... he’ll still hear you.”

But Buck was past hearing reason.

He tried again, but nothing came out except noise. Raw, aching noise. Grief in its purest, most helpless form.

His breath hitched hard, a sob catching mid-throat before it forced its way out—ugly and sharp.

“I c-can’t—” he gasped, and then the words stopped working.

And still, Tommy held him.

He pulled Buck tighter, cradling the back of his head, rocking him just slightly—not enough to soothe, just enough to stay.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered again, over and over now, like a mantra. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you. I’m here.”

Eventually, Buck went quieter. The sobs thinned to uneven breathing, but his lips kept moving—mumbling something, soft and broken, over and over.

Tommy leaned in, trying to hear. Couldn’t. His brows drew together.

“Evan?” he whispered, pulling back just a little, just enough to see his face.

Buck’s face was wet, flushed, crumpled with the kind of pain that didn’t know how to hide itself anymore. His eyes barely opened.

“Stay,” he said, voice hoarse, barely there. “Stay tonight and tomorrow, and just… stay, Tommy. Please.”

Tommy didn’t answer with words.

Buck curled in closer, folding into the space between Tommy’s legs, cheek pressed against his chest, body trembling but held.

He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to the birthmark above Buck’s eye, tender and reverent.

Then he pulled him back into his arms.

The floor beneath them was hard. Unforgiving. And Tommy didn’t move.

He kissed Buck’s hair. Then again. And again.

Soft. Reassuring. Steady.

“I’m not going anywhere, Evan.”

[chronicowboy]

my kingdom for a buck spinning like a top missing eddie re-examination of The Basketball Incident episode where everything's just piling up and his sanctuary no longer exists but the one person who can always help is still out there somewhere and he calls eddie and he's on the knife edge of a panic attack and eddie talks him through the jell-o body exercise and buck calms down almost instantly at the sound of eddie's voice so steady and reassuring and oh oh. oh no.

[stargirl230]

Knight of Cups 🌷

My card illustration for the @novaandmali LGBTarot project! There are rainbows hidden in here if you squint :)

We're 99% funded with less than 4 days to go - help us get to 100% and unlock some cool stretch goals!

(no reposts; reblogs appreciated)

[tinned-beef]

chat in the timeline poster ben (orange line) enters vietnam during the tail end of klaus’ time there (green line)

and in the teaser he’s seen grabbing a soldier and looks to be in a jungle?

vietnam returns??? i hope we get to see dave again 🥹

[icewindandboringhorror]

I know this is just a silly bad quality random screencap of a screencap that I found on facebook lol, BUT it's a succinct enough image to easily describe the concept in a quick/accessible way hopefully :

-

(and of course, feel free to elaborate in tags, etc.! (especially elaborating about other senses as well.. can you "hear" in your mind just as well as you can "see"? taste? etc.) It's an interesting topic to me, as someone who's like a 4.5 at MOST lol. I'm curious what option will be the most common :0c )

[fruitydiaz]

not in a buck is a baby who needs someone to save him kind of way but in a many of the big emergencies in the last few seasons have been about buck saving everyone kind of way i think it’d be neat if the end of season emergency hinged on buck being trapped and the team working to save him and that reaffirming his place with the 118 bc that’s family. even without bobby

[absandersons]

How it feels to be and have multiple friends that are fans of 911 right now

[honkowo]

finally bought a couple palindrome keychains from @garblegarden & i have a feeling im gonna b verrrrrry normal abt them lmao

[writing-is-hard-af]

Time to write a fix it. Or multiple.

[reonct]

Some 2.4 Quest Screenshots!

[chronicowboy]

"Oh." Eddie blinks when he sees him, winces just a little.

"Yeah," Buck sighs mournfully.

"Okay, let's get you patched up, bud." Eddie waves the first aid kit in his hands, and Buck tries not to smile at the dork, but then—

"Good luck with that, Diaz," Tommy says as he ducks out from the living room. Eddie flinches just a little like he'd forgotten who had called him in the first place. "He won't let anyone touch him."

Eddie's eyebrows twitch halfway up his forehead, and he cuts a glance at Buck. It's all big, brown eyes. So soft and inquisitive. Buck swears the pain in his cheek fades in that moment. But then the eyes roll and turn to that fond, teasing belligerence that just makes Buck feel warm all over.

"You still think you're cursed," Eddie says. And it's not a question, but he nods in answer anyway. "Buck."

"Eddie," he shoots back. "Look at me."

"No thanks." Eddie wrinkles his nose.

"Exactly." Buck turns back to the windows, folding his arms and hunching in on himself.

Footsteps. Eddie's cologne. Eddie. He's backlit by the sun, and Buck thinks if anyone were ever to break a curse it'd be someone who looks like this. Ethereal, beautiful, divine maybe.

Eddie crouches down in front of him, and Buck flinches backwards. Eddie holds his hands up, eyes back to that terrifying sincerity that makes Buck want to peel his own skin off.

"Hey, we met in September, right?" he asks. Buck frowns.

"Uh, um, yeah I think so." Knows so. The 23rd of September to be exact. But that doesn't seem important right now.

"Okay, well it's October now, so it's been a little over six years since you promised to have my back then." Buck's breath catches. Eddie just keeps looking at him, steady as the ground beneath their feet. Buck feels like an earthquake. "Which means it's been just over six years since I promised to have your back. And that meant ladder trucks on your leg and lightning bolts, sure. But poker games and a couch to sleep on too. It also, despite my skepticism, means curses too. So..." Eddie holds out his hand. "Let me have your back today?"

"Only if I can have yours," Buck replies breathlessly, couldn't look away from Eddie if he tried, even when Tommy clears his throat. "I mean, you know, when the curse inevitably gets you too." Buck takes Eddie's hand, watches as a brilliant smile takes over his face like the most beautiful sunrise Buck has ever seen.

They shake. It lingers a little too long. But it's okay, Buck thinks, because Eddie lingers in every touch as he tends to Buck's cheek. It's okay, Buck thinks. It'll be okay.

[mumintroll]

my external microphone does not work with my mothers laptop and i cant figure out whats wrong with it. it connects & it records sound but its all distorted and choppy and terrible quality but like the microphone is fine i never had issues with it on my own laptop. im using all the same software and everything on this laptop i dont get why its not workinggg </3

[objecthusbandry]

keeping objects as pets #5: smartphones and kin!

hi there! in this series, i’ll be going over basic descriptions of commonly-kept object species (and some rare ones too!), facts about them, why you might want one as a pet, their basic needs and necessities provided you want to house one, and things you should NEVER do. for the fifth post in this series, we’ll be going over smartphones and their closely related family!

note that while i primarily use the term smartphone in this post, it also applies to devices such as tablets.

description

smartphones, as the name implies, are typically square or rectangular and have quite flat bodies. they have thin, segmented, insectoid limbs, sharp teeth for cracking through exoskeletons, and no fur anywhere on their bodies. their hands have three fingers each, one acting as a "thumb", and have two toes per foot. these fingers are quite dexterous and adept at grabbing and holding onto their main source of food: insects. their 'screens' are made of a compound similar yet distinct from glass that is soft when they're first born and gradually hardens over the first few weeks of their lives. while normally able to protect their delicate organs from the elements, these 'screens' are very prone to becoming cracked and even shattered over time.

the backlighting on their screens may seem to come from LED lights, but it's actually a very bright form of bioluminescence that stems from chemical reactions in their bodies. if damaged, the structures that produce these chemicals will not grow back.

facts about smartphones

smartphones are a very social object species that tend to be more common near human settlements. they communicate primarily via pheromones that are impossible to sense to humans, but also have a wide language of clicks, chirps and other sounds to "speak" with each other through. unlike most objects, smartphones tend to gather around groups of unrelated object species - it's rare to see a group of smartphones together that aren't a family. they separate quite young from their family groups, at only around four weeks, but it is absolutely crucial that these objects are properly socialized. this is usually the case in the wild, but it can be hard to tell in shelters.

despite both mimicking human telecommunication devices, these objects are not closely related to flip phone objects. this is a case of convergent evolution.

why as a pet?

smartphones are very intelligent; in fact, most specialists will tell you that they're smarter than dogs. while i believe this is true to an extent, they are still animals and you shouldn't expect them to be all-knowing. that said, smartphones are very easy to train, and they are very compatible with most every other object type. these little guys love attention* and will stay by your side almost all the time. they're friendly, cute, and have lots of personality! they tend to be playful, curious animals. however, due to their diet, you may do better with a non-insectivorous species if you have a fear of insects.

basic needs + do's and dont's

these objects are insectivores: they need a steady supply of insects, specifically mealworms, to stay healthy. feeding larger things such as crickets, roaches and hornworms is okay for treats. i highly recommend using supplements to make sure their dietary needs are met. as "digital" objects, you may expect these to need recharging; DO NOT ATTEMPT TO PLUG ANYTHING INTO THEM. these are PURELY BIOLOGICAL CREATURES.

*it's important to note that these objects, while being naturally social and friendly, are prone to overstimulation. they have a bodily response that causes them to faint from extreme stress and must be handled appropriately to avoid overstimulating them. DO NOT USE THIS AS AN EXCUSE TO NOT INTERACT WITH YOUR PET. THESE ARE SOCIAL ANIMALS AND REQUIRE AT LEAST THREE HOURS OF INTERACTION PER DAY.

housing

due to their fragile anatomy, these objects MUST be kept indoors at all times. you should make it a priority to avoid letting your smartphone climb as even a short fall can cause shattered screens, especially in younger ones. also, because of their body shape, they can be prone to getting stuck in cracks and crevices, so you should minimize the amount of spaces where this can happen. i recommend having a dedicated area for their living space and allowing them supervised free roam time every day.

that’s all! hopefully this helps educate anyone who is considering this species!

[specific-dreamer]

new poll that i’ll repost in the am for better reach but

in my fics, do yall mind that i tend to just start at the “plot” or would yall prefer exposition first? i’m asking cuz like i have this banger idea for a hadestown au but i have no idea if i start right at the main part i want to right, or if i should write the before bits. it’d be digestible with or without the exposition but idk

(durations a day but rly until i wake up bc im writing the fic rn 🤧🤧)

[hydor-graphics]

"Men" Dropdown Text Mobile Phone Pride Wallpaper — Cupiogreyromantic Vincian Asexual Pride Flag Colours

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