not-withoutyou

[not-withoutyou]

when noah kahan said "i hope this pain's just passing through" and "someday i'm gonna be somebody people want" and when he said "i'm still angry at my parents for what their parents did to them" and "i'm in the business of losing your interest and i turn a profit each time that we speak" and "i'm terrified that i might never have met me" and "i saw the end it looked just like the middle" and when he said "now the pain's different it still exists it just escapes different"

[not-withoutyou]

btw! I was made aware that many people don't know that we're boycotting Eurovision this year, so.

we are boycotting Eurovision, as per BDS guidelines.

don't watch the stream, don't engage with the videos, don't post it about it on social media using hashtags that are going to trend.

[not-withoutyou]

on tragedy, fate, and inevitability.

oresteia, robert icke // theatre of the oppressed, augusto boal // song of achilles, madeline miller // the book thief, markus zusak // antigone, jean anouilh // revisiting mockingjay ahead of the hunger games prequel, entertainment weekly // romeo and juliet, shakespeare // h of h playbook, anne carson // war of the foxes, richard siken // the road to hell (reprise), hadestown // planet of love, richard siken // they both die at the end, adam silvera

[not-withoutyou]

As of now, Florida and Kansas have passed bills that align with KOSA.

So many people have held back on speaking out against KOSA or signing petitions because "it probably won't pass." But we have proof that it very well can and will.

So what can we do right now?

The same thing we've been doing: bring awareness and protest.

Here are a few websites you can visit to sign petitions:

https://www.badinternetbills.com/

https://www.stopkosa.com/

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2024/02/dont-fall-latest-changes-dangerous-kids-online-safety-act

You can also call your state reps. This post explains how you can do that.

Good luck, everyone! Don't give up yet.

[not-withoutyou]

"this goes beyond friendship, i love you to the core" no wonder ryan was put in PR jail FOR YEARS cause look what he says when he's being let loose

[not-withoutyou]

Shatter-resistant

(4k)

Rating: Teen and up

Pairing: Evan “Buck” Buckley/ Eddie Diaz

The therapist thing is only a stupid locker room joke because Buck has made it into one. When it comes up at the tail-end of an overnight shift—“…and we all know what happened last time Buck got therapy”—it’s easier to grin and shrug one shoulder, to blame it on a phase. (To put distance between Buck 1.0, and 2.0, and whatever version of himself he’s on now.) If he’s the punchline, he can laugh like it’s funny.

It’s just that Eddie’s not laughing.

[not-withoutyou]

they way castiel from the last great american queerbait said that is it! i am taking on the curse!! there will be no more queerbait after me!

[not-withoutyou]

I ENTERED THE WEEWOO FANDOM AT THE CORRECT TIME

[not-withoutyou]

With so many elections coming up worldwide it’s probably a good time to remind everyone that tumblr once got infested with agents trying to convince everyone not to vote, or not to vote left because the candidates weren’t morally pure enough.

Also a reminder that they were better at tumblr than most of us, comrade interloper was great at memeing. Like, the talent!

Anyway don’t fall for it. There is no morally pure option.

[not-withoutyou]

Simon can’t believe, sometimes, that he gets to have this—university, an internship he actually likes in the music industry, friends close enough to visit between work and school. (Close enough to make it to Wille’s birthday dinner tonight and insist on singing to him in the restaurant, much to his lighthearted embarrassment.)

Simon can’t believe he gets moments like these, like snapshot flashes of clarity, that make him so fucking grateful that he held on to this, that they put up a fight, that they made it. Even though things have been tumultuous between Wille and his family since he’d abdicated, Wille’s just turned 20 in spite of it, has rebuilt a life he’s proud of.

(And Simon’s so proud of him.)

It’s quiet dawns under the covers where Simon looks at Wille sleeping and just keeps falling and falling and falling. It’s the way Wille makes coffee every morning because he claims he does it better, but really, Simon knows it’s because he likes to be helpful.

It’s now, walking down city streets back to their apartment after a nice evening with friends, when Wille’s a teeny bit buzzed like he sometimes gets. (He’ll have a few drinks and Simon won’t. Simon's only rule is that he’s not carrying him home—and Wille maybe leans a little more into him, arm slung affectionately around his shoulder, but Wille’s never broken that promise.)

Wille shakes the hair out of his eyes—it’s started to get a little longer, curls up a bit at the edges—and laughs at his own joke.

It almost knocks Simon off-kilter, the way he kind of loves Wille like this, loves him all the time—but especially when those big, honey-brown doe-eyes are all unguarded and sincere. Wille’s a teddy bear when he drinks, content to sober up in Simon’s arms, to tuck tired kisses against his jaw. (He’ll definitely doze off tonight halfway through the movie he’d picked, but it’s been a long day.) Simon loves it like he loves the sweet, warm, early-evening breeze, and the freckles that come out in droves across Wille’s skin in the summer.

And of course Wille was born in the summer—he belongs in the sunshine. He’s sunshine, and he’s smiling with teeth, and he’s all golden every time a streetlight flickers to life, recounting a story that it definitely sounds like he’s misremembering. Simon looks up—because he still has to look up at him—with so much fondness, and he lets Wille talk, however impossible Wille’s stream of consciousness is to follow, because he’ll never get tired of listening.

Simon doesn’t actually say anything of substance until they’re back at their door. The key’s in the lock, and the weather’s going to be nice enough for the lake on Sunday, and, “oh, I need to return Linda’s call”—and Simon is so in love.

And yes, yes, okay Wille said no gifts, but—“Hey, um.” Simon flicks on the hallway light. “There’s actually one more thing.” It’s been hidden in the pocket of a winter coat for a month and a half. Now Simon’s hiding it nervously behind his back.

Wille blinks a bit unsteadily, midway through toeing his shoes off. His eyes fall on Simon’s posture; something soft flickers in them. “I thought we said no birthday presents.”

Simon snorts a laugh. “We did—and then you still got me concert tickets for mine, remember?”

“But that doesn’t count because—“ Wille cuts himself off because there’s a black, rectangular box cradled in Simon's hands. “Simon.” It’s like a warning, that tone, but he takes a step closer. Then two. And then his eyes are searching Simon’s face.

Simon bites his lip, bites back a grin. “It wasn’t that expensive, before you say anything.” Expensive is relative—but Simon’s been thinking about this for a long, long time. And now he actually has the means to do something about it, so. “Open it.”

Slowly, like the contents might break, Wille takes it from his hands and thumbs over the black velvet for a second before he pops it open. “Simon,” he says again, softer. Wille’s lips part like he wants to say something else, but he shuts his mouth and swallows, touching the metal with gentle fingertips.

It’s a plain silver chain—thick enough to be considered masculine but delicate enough to be him.

Simon rocks forward on the balls of his feet. He shouldn’t be nervous because he’d been, like, 99% sure Wille would like it. He’d asked both Rosh and Ayub for advice. He’d asked Felice whether it was too much. But now that Wille’s gone quiet he’s second guessing everything. Wille hasn’t worn a necklace regularly since he stopped wearing the cross. Maybe he doesn’t—

“I love it.” Wille swallows, brows furrowed. “Can you, um—will you—” His voice wavers a bit, but he doesn’t have to finish the sentence for Simon to take the necklace gingerly from his hands and fasten the clasp behind his neck. “You know you didn’t have to get me anything,” Wille says in the general direction of the wall.

“I know,” Simon says quietly, letting his hands linger on Wille’s shoulders and squeezing once before letting go. Neither of them are really the type to want gifts. It’s just—Wille still rubs his chest when he’s anxious, when he panics or wakes up from nightmares. (When, this morning, he’d been confronted with the fact that his mother might not call.)

Maybe it’s dumb, or maybe it isn’t, but Simon wants something there—a tangible reminder that Wille doesn’t have to deal with it alone. He won’t say any of that, though; what he says is, “It suits you.”

But maybe Simon doesn’t actually have to explain it at all for Wille to understand what it means. (I’m not going anywhere; I’m even more in love with you now than I was at 16.) Maybe Wille just knows, because he rests his palm flat against his chest before slipping arms around Simon’s waist. He brushes a kiss against the side of Simon’s head and murmurs, “thank you, älskling.”

(And he never takes the necklace off.)

Visit me on Ao3

[not-withoutyou]

Shatter-resistant

(4k)

Rating: Teen and up

Pairing: Evan “Buck” Buckley/ Eddie Diaz

The therapist thing is only a stupid locker room joke because Buck has made it into one. When it comes up at the tail-end of an overnight shift—“…and we all know what happened last time Buck got therapy”—it’s easier to grin and shrug one shoulder, to blame it on a phase. (To put distance between Buck 1.0, and 2.0, and whatever version of himself he’s on now.) If he’s the punchline, he can laugh like it’s funny.

It’s just that Eddie’s not laughing.

[not-withoutyou]

me @ my mutuals

[not-withoutyou]

Eddie’s temper doesn’t run quite as hot these days. In the past, he’d let it take him down a violent road, but he doesn’t do that anymore, isn’t proud of it, doesn’t recommend it. (Progress, or whatever.) The thing is, he’s still got an awful lot of reasons to be angry.

The therapist is one of them.

And right now, during a slow-enough night for a casual game of pool, Chimney is on thin fucking ice for bringing her up.

At the sound of her name, Buck’s smile falters. Eddie sees it immediately, knows it like the veins in his hands because he’s paying attention, but isn’t it obvious?

Buck finishes his turn and retreats quietly out of the way; it’s not in his character to ask the team to stop. He’ll just…grin and bear it for the sake of keeping the peace, forgive it like a black eye. But if Buck won’t swing back, Eddie sure as hell will.

“Read the fuckin’ room, man. Nothing’s funny.” Eddie rests the end of his pool cue on the floor. Billiard balls clack against the silence, and it’s even. Calm. But his shoulders are squared like it’s not a suggestion.

Part 2 is up! Read the full fic on Ao3

#buddie #911 abc

[not-withoutyou]

[not-withoutyou]

season 3 let’s goooo

#happy young royals day to all who celebrate #I made a game

[not-withoutyou]

[not-withoutyou]

Always in your corner 🤼‍♂️