#where the fuck are you evans

[jessieren]

Repeat HNW content alert

Do any of you care when its this hot?

Didn't think so...

[elysianymph]

james is very fascinated by muggle cameras. lily and regulus notice this of course and lily pitches an idea: to get james a camera for his birthday. they save up the money they need for a higher quality camera and wrap it up in a fancy box and present it to him on his birthday. the smile james gives them is worth every penny they spent.

they expected the obsession that came after. james took his camera everywhere, always taking pictures, not just of the the scenery or himself, but of his friends and family and most importantly of lily and regulus. what they didn't expect was that james had all of their photos printed and compiled them into an album, decorated it and drew little hearts and stars and flowers on it and wrote down little notes of what had happened the day the photos were taken. he revealed this album to them on their anniversary as a shared gift.

some of the many pictures james has taken of his lovers:

[atlasdoe]

IF I HAVE TO SEE ONE MORE "DUMBLEDORE WHERE HAVE YOU BURRIED ALL YOUR CHILDREN" TIKTOK WITH A BUNCH OF CHARACTERS WHOS DEATHS DUMBLEDORE HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH I AM GOING TO LOSE MY GODDAMN MIND

[miela]

my ipad isn't enough I need crimson rivers printed and on my bookshelf how on earth do I make that happen like i need a physical copy of this book i need it in my hands so i can flip the pages leave tear drop stains on it and throw it and pick it up and apologize to it, shake it, fall asleep on it at 4 in the morning because I was up all night reading it, annotate it with post it notes, let me friends borrow and read it because no other piece of literature has made me feel so many emotions so strongly than this fic has

[rosetterer]

If you're going to be mad that a canon ship has 1000+ fics when HenRen also has that amount but spread out over several years, then you should be furious that a non-canon m/m ship has 25k+ fics... you know, if this REALLY was about caring about the way that people write for lesbian couples compared to gay couples...

Just like some of y'all all of a sudden care about the female love interests

And just like you all of a sudden care about racism

But... it's not really about all that, now is it?

[crumbleclub]

michael: do i really have trauma, though?

jeremy: dude. your dad is literally a serial killer

michael: yeah, but he didn't serial kill me

[the-martyrfication-of-the-matron]

I disagree that the daddy kink convo should've been replaced with a heartfelt meaningful conversation about their mutual issues with their fathers because as much as you complain that the relationship isn't developed for Buck, it isn't developed for Tommy either, and it would be a disservice to the reserved guy that Lou says that Tommy is to make him immediately open up to someone without showing the proper progression and storyline leading up to that

the kink convo worked for both characters (both are just dawgs i guess), it was very mutual, and i still don't understand the perspective that Tommy's comment came out of nowhere, i run based off of the assumption that all flirty buck convos are... flirty...????

I understand why people want this, because the acknowledgement of Buck's parental issues comes with a burning desire to have a genuine conversation about it, but something that fits his character should not come at the cost of another character.

A scene should fit to everyone involved, and at most, it should've been a kind of... maybe a conversation of buck going 'yeahh... i got issues with my dad, that's why Bobby means so much to me, he's kinda like the dad i never had.' and Tommy's response being 'Yeah, i see that... my dad sucked but i had Gerrard who sucked too, so... yeah... he's the dad i already did have lol.'

OH...

OH WAIT...

ITS ALMOST LIKE THEY DID.

this conversation should happen eventually, but when it actually has meaning. At a point where Tommy is actually going to be willing to open up a little more (since we kinda see that he is a little bit more reserved with Buck still in this season), and maybe it's in favour of servicing Buck as a character, or Tommy, or BOTH. But you cannot put a character on the line bc you pearl clutch over the fact that your 'baby' pretty boy fucks severely.

[1doesnotsimplyhavejust1fandam]

Watching Eddie Begins with Buddie-colored glasses on is already crazy enough, but I just caught something that I never really thought about before. Athena tells Bobby that the news crews showing up before she leaves for another call might turn the call into a nationwide story. And then Buck absolutely LOSES it when 30 feet of wet earth falls on top of Eddie. So yeah, maybe Bobby pulls Buck away to stop him from futilely digging for Eddie with his hands, but maybe he also does it because he doesn’t want his kid’s grief and fear and love for Eddie being broadcast across the country. Especially not when Bobby thinks that Eddie’s probably already dead. And not only does Bobby pull Buck away from the well, he pulls back right into his lap. This is the closest we get to Bobby cradling Buck in his arms until the lightning strike, and it’s because he doesn’t want Buck to be in pain, and he most certainly does NOT want the tragedy of Eddie’s death to be made even worse by Buck’s pain over it being broadcast to the entire country.

[mustasekittens]

trading zappies stories

canon zappies and my hc zappies

[buckleyflower]

eddie will take one look at buck and decide he has to kiss him precisely on the head, right in the middle of the curls, exactly on top of his beautiful head, and he will, and then, after a call, buck will be making a cup of coffee and eddie will distractingly take one look at his neck and, standing on his tiptoes, will not-distractingly kiss him exactly where hair meets skin, and buck will spill bobby’s coffee (because guess what? yep, still not dating)

[dandelioncasey]

It's literally not ever going to happen (at least not outside of fic, much love to all the fic writers out there) but I would give my nonexistent firstborn for some poly rep in the weewoo show

Because I am absolutely a buddie endgame truther and have been since I started watching but bucktommy breaking up (or Tommy getting hurt!) will absolutely shatter my heart

Sometimes a family is you, your boyfriend, your boyfriend's fatherboss who was your boss once, your boyfriend's husband, and the child your boyfriend and his husband are co-parenting

[jessieren]

Continuing with the 3% naked 97% imagination theme (ahem… because there’s no.new.content Evans) with another white shirt

Umm you look a bit hot there babe… maybe you should undo that shirt a bit further…

Like… you know… completely ….

Just saying

[sadcatinapartyhat]

In which Mary forgets.

The first thing she forgot was the colour of a meadow on a midsummer day.

The second was the sound of a door sliding open, and a voice that still hadn’t lost the shake of anger. 

“Excuse us,” said the voice. “But do you mind if we sit here?” 

Mary didn’t mind. 

“You see,” the voice explained. “We had seats already. Perfectly nice seats, in fact—but then we were disturbed. Did you know this place accepts mentally deficient toe-rags?”

Mary had not.

“Me either,” said the voice. It was a bit steadier now. “Well, you seem nice, at any rate—what’s your name?”

The voice had a name, too. But Mary couldn’t forget what it was.

…

The next thing she forgot was her own hands, glowing with the light of a thousand suns. She forgot the letter that came on her birthday and the man who came with it, tall and silver and kind when he told her she was magic. She forgot the feeling of a wand in her hand, the control, the certainty it gave her, something inside her slotting into place without ever having realised it was missing at all. 

Ah, yes, she forgot thinking, when the man took out his own and conjured her mother a rose. Now everything is finally right.

She forgot how it felt when she heard that Word for the very first time and she realised she’d been so very wrong. 

…

Mary forgot that the voice belonged to a girl. A girl with long, soft, pressed-copper hair, hair that smelled like vanilla and apples and sunshine.

She forgot how she sounded when she laughed.

“Sunshine isn’t a smell, Mary—but thank you all the same.”

Mary disagreed. Sunshine was her favourite smell.

She forgot how the girl looked with her sleeves rolled up and her wand in her plait, hands stained red-yellow-green by berries and powders and potions, eyes blazing in triumph when the man with the walrus moustache told her she was clever. Mary wondered how he did it—how he made her light up like that, and how she could do it, too. 

She forgot late nights in the dorm and afternoons in the library, painting nails and proofreading essays. The girl would look at her Potions and Mary would look at her Charms, and they’d roll their eyes when boys with silly names and big mouths sent them cards and curses and called them pretty. 

“You’re all I need, Mary. Romance is reductive, and they’re all arrogant prats with frogs for brains.”

Mary wished it was true. 

But then she forgot glasses and messy hair, and battles won with wands and broomsticks and words, and watching her watching him when she thought no one was looking. She forgot being sixteen and feeling something change around her. She forgot feeling like she should change, too. She forgot crying when she couldn’t. 

…

She forgot the star. 

She forgot his black curls and his silver eyes, and his face, pretty like a girl’s. She forgot holding his hand and pretending it was hers. She forgot how he made her listen to Bowie and she made him listen to ABBA, and how they laughed and cried and fought and made up and never, ever kissed.

She forgot sitting by the fire in a crowded common room, not reading, not talking. He looked at him and she looked at her and neither of them looked at each other.

And she forgot that the reason they’d always worked so well was that really, they’d never worked at all.

…

She forgot the castle in winter, the way the ice hung off the stone like a diamond necklace, the way the white made the blue swallow you whole. 

“Here we are, Mary!” said the girl. “Our very last Sluggy Christmas! What are you wearing? Did you decide yet?”

Mary hadn’t, but she was leaning towards the pink with the lace.

“Oh, good,” said the girl. “That one’s my favourite.”

Mary’s favourite was the emerald silk. 

“Yes,” said the girl. “I was thinking that, too—it matches my eyes, doesn’t it?”

Mary wondered if the girl was sad. She’d just broken up with the latest boy, and it was the first time she’d be going alone. Mary didn’t have a partner, either. She wondered if she might like to go together. 

Just so they wouldn’t be lonely.

Just as friends.

Just once.

“Oh—er, sorry, Mary,” said the girl. “But I’m not going alone.”

Mary didn’t want to ask. But she did.

“Potter,” said the girl. “James Potter.”

…

She forgot the words to Lady Stardust. Cherry Bomb. Jolene, Lola, and Nina, Pretty Ballerina. She forgot the Blitzkrieg Bop and the Crocodile Rock, and she forgot dancing in the tower and the flat and the cottage, arms around a boy or a girl or a stranger or the air above her head, dancing just to move, dancing to remember. Dancing to forget. 

…

The forgetting came quicker after that. 

She forgot the war. She forgot the secrets and the lies they told themselves to get through the day, the lies that tore them apart from the inside out and the ones that put them back together. She forgot killing and torture and running and waking from nightmares to find herself in hell.

She forgot the dead. She forgot the traitors and the cowards and the black, festering hole in her chest where her heart used to be.

She forgot the girl with Healing hands. She forgot her yellow hair, her whip-crack wit, her soft, warm hugs. She forgot the girl who loved her, the crusader with a chip on her shoulder, and she forgot how they died exactly one month apart, how the streets ran scarlet in the August heat. 

She forgot the boy with kindness in his voice and fear in his eyes, the boy who died and the finger they buried. She forgot the snake in lion’s clothing who killed him and the scarred, broken shell of a man he’d lied about loving and left behind. 

She forgot Halloween.

…

She forgot standing alone in a churchyard, carving words on a slab of white marble. She forgot a familiar face, a form in the corner of her eye, and she forgot the words she yelled at him as he tried to explain.

“I loved—”

“Don’t you fucking dare, Snivellus.”

…

The last thing she forgot was a road called Privet Drive, and a neat little house filled with secrets and pain and a crying boy with eyes she’d spent ten long, beautiful years loving so much it almost hurt to look. 

She forgot the feeling of night air on her face, cold and sharp, turning her tears to ice. She forgot knocking on the door, and the face Petunia Evans made when she pulled out her wand and froze her where she stood. She forgot the door to the cupboard under the stairs, and how she didn’t need to say a word before it burst into a shower of sparkling stars. She forgot holding Harry in her arms, and looking back to see a fat, blond baby bawling on the living room floor, and wondering just for a moment whether she ought to take him, too. 

She forgot walking, then running, cradling a soft black head to her chest, too afraid to Apparate with such a fragile thing. She forgot the rage in her throat, on her tongue, when she saw the tall, slim man in silver robes, blocking her path. 

He was there to take him away. He was there to take away her Harry, her godson, just like he took away her Lily. He threw her life away like it was nothing, nothing, nothing, when to Mary it was everything. 

“You can’t,” she said. “You can’t send him back there, you can’t make me leave him.”

Of course he could.

“You won’t,” she said. “You won’t let them hurt him, you won’t close your eyes.”

Of course he would.

“You’re wrong,” she said. “You’re wrong if you think this is good. You’re wrong if you think there’s no choice.”

Of course he was.

But that had never mattered.

“Obliviate,” he said.

And Mary forgot.

[sayinlaknight-yeah]

Now for bucks post since SOME OF YALL are so god damn up in arms over my post about saying Eddie needs therapy.

I never said Buck didn't also need therapy.

Because Buck ALSO DOES need to work on his own issues and shit as well but I figured we all had enough common sense to realize that?? I guess not??

The man CLEARLY has anxious attachment/abandomment issues stemming from his childhood trauma of being neglected which is why he jumps head first into every relationship that comes into his life and why he is so reckless when working on calls.

He is afraid to lose everyone because everyone he cared about left him.

Maddie chose doug in the past (we don't fault her for that because abusive relationships are hard to leave)

His parents shutting him out because of their own trauma with losing their other son.

He is so attached that to the 118 because it's the first REAL thing that's given him a purpose and it shows when he gets sidelined or hurt. He spirals and doesn't know what to do with himself.

Granted he went to therapy for his sex addiction and he also went to therapy to reevaluate himself with how he hides his feelings from everyone.

But he still needs to self reflect and work on himself (relationship wise) now I'm not a Buck/Tommy shipper not just because I don't like Tommy (I truly don't but that's besides the point.)

But for the simple fact he's yet again jumping headfirst into another relationship especially with a guy he really knows nothing about and that said/did things to his now brother-in-law AND Hen??? Like??

Buck needs to step back and evaluate himself before getting into a serious relationship. Because I can guarantee you him and Tommy are gonna crash and burn just like every single previous relationship he's had.

I never said both of them DIDNT need therapy because they both DO. Both of them. Like hello?? We can talk about one's issues without turning it around and saying "well you never said this about buck-" BECAUSE IT WAS AN EDDIE POST-

so here's bucks.

[theotherbuckley]

It’s funny that Eddie and Maddie were supposed to end up together but instead they did a complete 180 and instead gave them like no scenes together.

[makorragal-312]

Season 2 Buck: "At least when I date someone, I date them."

Season 7 Buck: "I'm keeping my options fluid."