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buddie-buddie · 1 month

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you'll find that you were never not mine

5.1k - explicit - buck x tommy - read on ao3

In his thirty two trips around the sun, Buck has done plenty of things he’s proud of. He’s run headfirst into burning buildings. He’s saved lives. He’s reunited with his sister and survived being crushed by a ladder truck and been named the legal guardian of the coolest kid in the world.

He’s felt pride before. But never like this.

This is different. It’s intoxicating and addicting and everything Buck never realized he could have. Everything Buck never realized he deserved. Not until now.

Not until Tommy.

The swell of pride behind his ribs, the warmth flooding his chest and beating through his body, it isn’t foreign, not entirely. But he’s never felt it all quite like this. It’s never consumed him like this. It’s never been so heady, so dizzying, so absolutely electrifying. He wants to bottle it up and carry it around in his pocket and take hits from it when no one is looking.

It’s a high he’d gladly spend the rest of his life chasing, if he could only be so lucky.

Never before has he felt so alive, so proud and worthy and good. There’s a deep, intoxicating pleasure to it, tiny bursts of ecstasy skittering across his skin and dancing up his spine as he looks down at Tommy.

Tommy, who’s lying beneath him, with his eyes sparkling and a wild, sated grin stretching across his face. His chest heaves as he catches his breath, his heart hammering beneath kiss-bitten, come-covered skin. He has one hand still fisted in the sheets, the other splayed across Buck’s chest.

“C’mere,” Tommy says, voice rough and heavy. He sounds absolutely destroyed. And that alone sends sparks flying across Buck’s skin, electricity crackling behind his chest as he realizes it was because of him. He did that.

The pride flares in his chest as he lets Tommy pull him in for a filthy, open-mouthed kiss.

“S’that good?” Buck mumbles against Tommy’s mouth.

Tommy pulls back, just enough to give Buck a look of absolute bewilderment. “Was that good?” he echoes, eyes wide. “I haven’t come that hard in–– I don’t even know. I–Yeah,” he says, huffing out an incredulous laugh. “Yeah, Evan. It was good.”

Buck’s breath catches in his throat, pride swelling in his chest as Tommy’s praise sets him ablaze. As does the way he calls him Evan. A name Buck usually hated now makes warmth bloom behind his ribs when it falls from Tommy’s lips.

Buck can always hear the smile behind it, can feel the fondness as it settles over him, grounding him in a way that still feels just as exciting as the very first time.

Buck just…. well, he never corrected him. He’s usually pretty quick to ask people to call him Buck, but for some reason he never did when it came to Tommy. Buck used to think that his nickname was reserved for the people who know him, but then along came Tommy with his sparkly eyes and his adorable nose scrunches and his kind heart and his fingers beneath Buck’s chin and well– Buck is starting to think maybe Tommy knows him better than he thinks.

It was only a month ago that Tommy had kissed him and his world exploded. Everything was suddenly a little bit brighter, a little bit warmer. Nothing had changed, per se, and yet everything was better. So much better.

It reminds Buck of that part in the Wizard of Oz when Dorothy steps into technicolor. When the sepia tones disappear and there’s nothing but bright, beautiful color. It’s not that Buck’s life before this was bad. It was just… sepia toned. And now that he’s had a taste of technicolor, he can’t believe he ever lived without it.

He’d be lying if he said part of him doesn’t mourn the fact that it took him three decades to get here. But now that he’s arrived? Well, he’s making up for lost time.

Tommy pulls Buck back in for another kiss, this one softer and sweeter than the one before it. And yet, it still sends the same zip of pleasure up Buck’s spine, the same rush of desire thrumming beneath his skin.

Initially, Buck thought that the night Tommy kissed him for the first time was the moment when all the pieces clicked into place. But he was quick to realize that wasn’t the case at all. It wasn’t all the pieces that night, not really. More like it was the edges of the puzzle, the corner pieces that guide the rest of the journey. It was the moment when you press the edges together and have a real perimeter, and for the first time, it all feels possible. It was the realization that something will come of all the jumbled up pieces scattered in front of you. Something real. Something beautiful.

And the more time he spends with Tommy, the more the pieces fall into place.

A few days after their coffee date, Tommy had taken him for a flying lesson– the first of many, he had promised. The flying was fun, not to mention how hot it was having a front-row seat to watch Tommy in his element, this time with permission to stare. But the best part of the day was when they left the airstrip and Tommy reached down and took Buck’s hand in his.

They walked to Tommy’s car hand in hand, and Buck didn’t miss the way his mind quieted the second Tommy’s fingers intertwined with his own. Being with Tommy settled something deep inside of Buck, it eased his mind and quieted the noise he hadn’t realized had once been so loud– not until Tommy smiled at him and suddenly, everything wasn’t so loud anymore. Everything wasn’t so hard anymore.

Buck likes being with Tommy. He likes the weight of Tommy’s hand in his and the brush of his stubble against his chin. He likes the feel of Tommy’s lips on his and the way his skin sparks each time they touch. He likes being on the receiving end of raised eyebrows and nose scrunches and a quiet, fond, “Evan.” He likes it all.

Never before has Buck been in a relationship where he’s felt so good and settled and safe. Which isn’t to say he felt unsafe with any of his exes. It’s just…. it’s different with Tommy. Buck feels safe to explore, safe to not know things, safe to not be the guy with the answers all the time. Safe to figure out who he is, what he wants, what he likes. Safe to just be.

He feels safe with Tommy. Proud, too. God, he’s so fucking proud to be with Tommy.

He still has hard days— occupational hazard, and all. But even when his days are hard, they’re still good. Any day with Tommy is good.

Today, though? Today is the best of them all.

Today, Buck has Tommy in his bed. Laid out beneath him like a fucking god, looking like he’s been cut from marble and sent from the heavens just for Buck. He’s perfect, so perfect, with his kiss-swollen lips and lust-blown eyes and bruises starting to bloom beneath the trail of dark hair leading down his chest.

Buck swears he’s dreaming. It would make it the longest, most vivid dream he’s ever had, but it’s the only explanation. There’s no way a human being can feel this good– there’s just no fucking way. He must have the flu– or maybe that nasty virus Eddie had mentioned was going around Christopher’s class– and his temperature’s climbed so high that he’s started hallucinating. There’s just no way this is real life.

It’s not like Buck is a stranger to sex. Kind of the opposite, actually. He’s had his fair share of it, all of which was blown clear out of the water the first time Tommy got his hands on him. It’s not that it was necessarily bad with any of his exes. Sex with Tommy is just… better. Much like everything else with Tommy is revealing itself to be.

At first, Buck thought it was the newness of it all. Like there was a honeymoon phase of sorts, something that would vanish the next time he found himself lucky enough to be in bed with Tommy. He wondered if it would pop suddenly like a balloon that’s floated too high, or if it would slowly ebb away like the tide from the shore, gone before he realized it was. Or maybe it would melt like the wings of Icarus from flying too close to the bright, dazzling radiance that is Tommy Kinard, and he’d come crashing down, cushioned only by the memories of what they once had.

Except it didn’t. It didn’t pop, didn’t ebb. It hasn’t melted, or vanished, or even dimmed for so much as a fleeting moment. It’s been a month since the first time they got their hands on each other, and it’s still just as electric, just as intoxicating.

In fact, it’s only gotten better.

Granted, the first time was a rush of hungry kisses and frantic grinding and come-stained jeans against the door of Buck’s loft. So really, it was only up from there.

The second time, Tommy got his mouth on Buck and Buck swore he was next in line to meet Jesus. There was the time that Tommy had jerked them off together, both of them in one hand, as if that wasn’t the single hottest thing Buck had ever experienced. And the time Tommy blew him in the shower and then stood up and stripped his own cock until he came on Buck’s abs with a shout. And then there was today. Today happened to be the first time Buck got Tommy off all by himself, and it was… transformative.

Buck has never, in all his life, known pride quite like he has today.

Earlier, they had stumbled into Buck’s loft after dinner at his favorite place around the corner, barely through the door before they were on each other, swapping heavy, frenzied kisses.

“Upstairs,” Buck had breathed, punctuating his request with a kiss. “Please.”

“So polite,” Tommy hummed, and Buck could feel his lips stretching into a grin beneath his. He followed Buck up the stairs, their fingers laced together the entire time. Buck dropped backwards onto the mattress, fisting his hands in the lapels of Tommy’s jacket and pulling him down with him.

They made out for a while, grinding and rutting against each other fully clothed like teenagers, rather than two thirty-something men with all the time and space and freedom to take each other apart properly.

Tommy pulled away just long enough to tug off his jacket and toss it on the floor behind him. Buck whined at the momentary loss of touch, chasing after it with an arch of his back that had Tommy swearing beneath his breath before diving back in and kissing Buck again.

“You need to use your words, baby,” Tommy said between kisses, his voice low and breathy in a way that had heat zipping up Buck’s spine. Tommy’s mouth trailed a line of hot kisses across Buck’s jaw and down his neck, nosing at his pulse point and relishing in the way doing so made Buck’s breath catch in his throat. The pet name lit him up, made him feel warm and sparkly all over, like live wires were crackling beneath his skin and setting him on fire in the very best way.

It was exhilarating and absolutely intoxicating, and Buck wanted to live the rest of his life feeling this happy, this floaty, this good.

“Please,” Buck’s voice was hoarse, thick with lust and desire as he pushed the word out past the arousal climbing up his throat and threatening to consume him.

Tommy’s warm breath ghosted across the shell of Buck’s ear as he all but purred, “That’s it. Tell me what you want.”

“I–” Buck froze for a minute, suddenly unable to form words. He didn’t know where to begin.

He wanted it all, whatever Tommy would give him. Whatever he could be so lucky to have before this beautiful, delicate bubble popped and the magic disappeared and sepia tones began to bleed into technicolor and the jig was up. Because really, it all felt just a little too good to be true.

“A-Anything. Whatever you want.”

Tommy made a tsk sound under his breath, but there was no malice behind it, no shame. Instead, just warmth and patience and a fond, familiar sparkle in his blue eyes that made Buck’s chest ache. “Evan,” he had said, his thumb ghosting over Buck’s birthmark before coming to bracket his temple. It was a gesture so simple yet so intimate, it nearly split Buck in two. “What do you want?”

Buck stopped for a beat, letting Tommy’s words settle over him. He felt the fondness behind them all the way in his bones, and something about that made him feel whole, made him feel seen. The words were out before Buck could stop them. “I want to be good for you.”

“You are,” Tommy assured him without so much as a second’s hesitation. He stole another kiss. “You’re perfect.”

Buck’s instinct was to duck away from the praise that settled over him like a balm, soothing the rapidly-fraying edges of his sanity and warming him from the inside out. But Tommy didn’t let him. His fingers hooked beneath Buck’s chin, tilting it back up until their eyes met and Tommy said, “None of that.” His voice was so warm, so gentle and fond and soft, it made Buck’s chest ache. “You can have what you want,” Tommy told him. “Just gotta ask for it.”

Buck’s breath stuttered, his heart hammering against his chest. “I wanna get you off,” he said, barely recognizing the heady rasp in his voice. “Want to take care of you. Make you feel as good as you make me feel.”

Tommy’s eyes were wild as he bit back a groan, as he closed the distance between their lips and kissed Buck for all he’s worth. Without breaking the kiss, he sat back, pulling Buck with him. He tapped Buck’s thigh, humming in appreciation as Buck got the memo and slung a knee over Tommy’s thighs. He settled in Tommy’s lap with a slow, experimental roll of his hips that had both of them seeing stars and struggling to catch their breath.

Buck loved this, he fucking loved it, being manhandled like this. Tommy’s hands are big and strong and Buck’s never felt better than when they’re on him. He loved that Tommy could take him, that he can hold him and move him however he pleases. It sent a rush of heat dancing across his skin, lust and desire pooling in his belly.

“You’re so good,” Tommy told him, and the words danced up Buck’s spine, heat licking at his skin as he felt a flush creep up his neck. “The best boy.”

Holy fuck. Tommy knew exactly what he needed to hear, exactly what to say to drive Buck past the point of crazy and all the way to borderline hysteria. Buck whined against Tommy’s lips, rocking his hips as his fingers dug into Tommy’s waist.

Tommy’s fingers pushed up beneath the hem of Buck’s shirt, splaying out across the warm skin of his lower back. Buck arched his back in a silent invitation, one Tommy accepted instantly, tugging Buck’s shirt over his head and tossing it onto the floor before doing the same to his own. He dropped back against the pillows, looking up at Buck with a happy, hungry grin. Tommy’s hands settled on Buck’s hips just as Buck rolled them again, grinding down on Tommy’s lap before dropping down to his forearms, bracketed on either side of Tommy’s head as he kissed him again.

“Fuck,” Tommy panted into Buck’s mouth. He rocked up against Buck, his grip on him tightening as his eyes raked over him with a look that could only be described as insatiable. “Look at you.” Tommy’s voice was low, thick with arousal and something that sounded a lot like awe.

Buck blushed, heat rushing up his neck and burning in his cheeks as he dipped his chin, dropping his gaze with a shy smile. “Hey,” Tommy said gently. It was just one word, but it was unmistakably fond, so much so that it left Buck swallowing past a lump in his throat and pushing down a rush of emotion. Tommy’s fingers were beneath Buck’s chin again, tipping it up gently until their eyes met. “No hiding,” Tommy whispered.

Buck found himself relaxing almost instantly, shyness fading away as he held Tommy’s gaze. Buck’s mind instantly quieted as he stared up at bright, piercing blue that was somehow still soft and kind, gentle in a way that made Buck feel warm and safe. Tommy’s eyes are flanked in tiny, nearly invisible tan lines, courtesy of the way his skin crinkles when he smiles. The lines are barely visible, but Buck already knows them by heart. He’s kissed them and traced them and seen them when he closes his own eyes, in those heavy, floaty moments right before he falls asleep.

He sees Tommy’s eyes in his dreams, and in the ones when he’s awake, too. He loves the way they sparkle, the mischievous glint behind them that only Buck seems to earn. He could lose himself in them, could drown in the warm, wild, cerulean seas that set his heart on fire and his mind at ease. What a way to go.

Tommy smiled, leaned in and kissed him. It grew heavy quickly, breaking only when Tommy pulled back to draw in a shaky breath. “How d’you want me?”

Jesus Christ.

Buck’s throat ran dry, clicking as he swallowed and let Tommy’s words hang in the air between them. He placed a hand on Tommy’s broad chest, his fingers splaying out across the smooth skin shrouded in a smattering of dark hair. Tommy’s eyes flitted between Buck’s eyes and his hand, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth, his eyebrows raising as Buck pushed him back until his head hit the pillows.

“Just like this,” Buck said. He took a deep breath, shaky on the exhale as he looked down at Tommy laid out beneath him, drinking in every inch of him, melting into every point of contact where their skin met. Eagerness and a sudden, unwelcome flare of uncertainty burned in his gut, a killer combination that had Buck’s head swimming and his breath catching as he swallowed nervously. “Tell me if I— if it’s not—”

“I will,” Tommy assured him, his hands skating up and down Buck’s flank reassuringly. “Won’t need to, though, cause you’ve got this.” He tipped his chin up, meeting Buck in a kiss that was slow and gentle and instantly chased away the waves of self-doubt rising in Buck’s throat.

Buck nodded, brushing his thumb over the apple of Tommy’s cheek before trailing his fingers down, his touch ghosting over the heat of his neck and the soft, dark hair on his chest. He got to work on Tommy’s belt, despite the way his hands were trembling with some combination of anticipation and restraint.

Tommy noticed, because of course he did. It’s what he does. He notices things. Because he’s so tuned into everything Buck does, every breath he takes. His hands left the spot where they’d settled on Buck’s shoulders in favor of covering Buck’s own, curling his fingers around Buck’s.

Buck opened his mouth to apologize, but Tommy must’ve picked up on that too, because he was leaning forward and kissing him again before Buck had the chance to get the word out. Buck– though, really, it was the self-doubt monster inside him rearing its ugly head– half expected Tommy to nudge Buck’s hands out of the way and unbutton his pants himself. But he didn’t. He just let their fingers sit tangled together as he kissed Buck for a minute, slow and steady and everything Buck hadn’t realized he needed until it was happening. He didn’t rush him, didn’t brush him off, didn't make him feel anything other than good and safe and perfectly capable.

He doesn't think he’ll ever get over it– how Tommy’s so in tune with him, how he’s able to read Buck so well. Not only does he know what it is Buck needs, but he gives it to him any time he can. Buck’s never felt seen like this before in a romantic relationship, and it’s all so much, so good, but so much. He didn’t know what to do with it other than sigh into Tommy’s kiss and pray he'd never wake up from the dream that his life has become.

They kissed and they kissed and they kissed, and finally, Buck started moving his hands again, this time with a certainty and a deftness that wasn’t there before. He got Tommy’s jeans unbuttoned, and then he was murmuring “Up,” against his lips, urging Tommy to lift his hips enough that Buck could pull the fabric down.

Tommy did as he was told, and Buck tossed his jeans and briefs to the floor before stealing another hungry kiss. He trailed a line of hot kisses along Tommy’s jaw, down his neck, across his chest. He had his hands on Tommy’s hips, holding him down as he licked at his nipples and Tommy all but writhed beneath him. “Evan,” he gasped, wild and desperate in a way that had Buck fucking floating.

He sucked and nipped and kissed his way down Tommy’s chest, leaving small marks and bruises that started blooming as he made his way down, down, down. And then he was face to face with Tommy’s dick– his beautiful dick, flushed red and glistening with precome that had beaded on the tip and was starting to drip down the underside.

The heady rush of pride and delight that came with the realization that Tommy was wet for him nearly knocked Buck over. God knows Buck himself had soaked through his fair share of boxers in the past few weeks thanks to Tommy, but having a front-row seat to the role reversal was almost too much for Buck to handle.

He pressed a hot, wet kiss to the tip, his tongue dragging over the slit. Really, he was helpless to do anything else, having given himself over entirely to the lust simmering his veins and thrumming beneath his skin, chasing after the heady rush that came as the salty, musky, irresistible taste of Tommy exploded on his tongue and lit him up until he felt like he was high on it.

Tommy let out a broken moan, and it was everything. Buck could gladly spend the rest of his life in this bed, coaxing that sound out of him over and over and over again. He wrapped his fingers around Tommy’s cock, relishing in the way Tommy’s breath stuttered and his eyes grew heavy. He gave an experimental stroke, focusing on twisting his wrist in the way he knew feels good when he does it to himself. He was rewarded with a punched-out sound that lay somewhere between a gasp and a groan, and then another as he did it again.

Tommy was leaking steadily now, and Buck gathered more precome and used it to slick him up. “Oh, fuck,” Tommy panted. His voice was raspy and breathless, and it did nothing but spur Buck on even more. “Just like that, yeah, just like that.”

“Yeah?” Buck hummed, confidence building with each passing second, with each delicious sound that fell from Tommy’s lips. “You like that?” Buck asked, pleasantly surprised to hear the rasp in his own voice. He didn’t sound quite as fucked-out as Tommy did– not yet, at least– but his breath was starting to come a little more ragged, his heart starting to hammer a little harder in his chest.

Tommy nodded, teeth digging into his bottom lip as he dropped his head back against the pillows. “Yes, yes," he practically chanted, the word punched out of him as Buck doubled down, wrapping his free hand around the base, twisting it opposite his other hand and earning himself a filthy, drawn-out moan.

Buck’s own dick strained against his jeans, harder than he thought he'd ever been as he watched Tommy fall apart beneath his hands. His hands. He was the one doing this to him, making him feel this good. That alone was enough to have Buck teetering on the edge, his skin hot and his mind hazy.

He dipped his chin down again, pressing another kiss to the head, before running his tongue down the underside as his fingers trailed down to Tommy’s balls.

Tommy jerked beneath him, his back arching and his hands fisting in the sheets so hard it was a miracle they didn't tear.

“Good?” Buck asked, pulling back just enough that Tommy could hear him, but not enough that the vibrations from his voice didn't send a jolt up Tommy’s spine.

Tommy’s toes curled and his breath stuttered as he nodded. “Good, yes, good,” he promised, his breath ragged. “Please,” he begged. For what, Buck wasn’t entirely sure. But he’d be damned if he stopped before he figured it out. “Please, baby.”

Buck loved it, couldn’t get enough of the way Tommy– one of the calmest, coolest people he had the privilege of knowing– lost his composure like this, how he started to babble and beg, his words slurring together as he gave himself over to the ecstasy rushing through his veins and started to come undone.

Buck kept one hand on Tommy’s cock, long languid strokes that were just shy of enough to get him off, but still enough to have him moaning and whining a litany of broken sounds beneath him. Buck took his other hand back, drinking in the strangled gasp that fell from Tommy’s lips as he watched Buck stick two of his fingers in his own mouth, licking and sucking at them as his eyes locked with Tommy’s.

There was fire burning in Tommy’s eyes, an insatiable hunger as he watched Buck, completely transfixed.

Buck released his fingers with a wet, filthy sound and wasted no time before slipping them between Tommy’s ass cheeks, grinning at the way Tommy absolutely whined. One of Tommy’s hands flew to Buck's shoulder in an attempt to anchor himself, the other staying where it was, twisted up in the sheets. Buck shifted his weight, keeping Tommy’s thighs locked between his knees so he didn’t arch off the bed.

It was something Buck never could have done with any of the women he’s ever slept with— he was always very conscious of his own strength, too worried about being too much, too strong, too powerful. But not with Tommy. Tommy’s big and strong, broad and muscular just like Buck is. They’re evenly matched— even if Tommy’s hands are bigger than Buck’s, something that still makes heat pool in Buck’s belly when he thinks about it. Tommy can hold his own, can handle himself. What’s even more, Tommy can handle Buck, too.

So Buck kept Tommy’s thighs in a vice grip, and Tommy’s breath hitched and his cock jumped in Buck’s hand, and Buck had to breathe through the wave of pure, unadulterated pride that swelled in his chest and broke over his skin. He felt like a glow stick, cracked open and glowing from the inside out for anyone to see.

He teased Tommy’s rim with the pads of his fingers, drinking in the tiny punched-out moans and broken gasps that were falling from Tommy’s lips as he did. And then he dropped a kiss to Tommy’s jaw and pushed one finger in, enveloped by warm, slick heat up to the second knuckle. Tommy cursed, spilling over Buck’s fingers and onto his chest as his orgasm rushed over him.

Buck was mesmerized, completely transfixed with the way Tommy’s back arched, the way his lips fell open on a silent sob, his fingers digging into Buck’s skin hard enough Buck found himself hoping they would leave bruises. Tommy’s beautiful always, but especially like that– coming undone beneath Buck’s hands, skin flushed as he rode out his orgasm with ragged breaths and tiny, uncontrollable jerks of his hips.

Tommy blinked slowly, his smile syrupy sweet as he came back to himself and saw Buck leaning over him. He reached up and cupped Buck through his pants, grinding his palm against the bulge where his cock was straining against the front seam of the denim.

“Good boy, let go,” Tommy practically purred, the words shooting straight through him. Buck felt like he was on fire, absolutely glowing as the praise washed over him and his orgasm built. He was helpless to stop the whine that fell from his lips, though he was so far past the point of holding back with Tommy, he didn’t even try. He still had a finger in Tommy’s ass, and when Tommy clenched around him, Buck’s vision whited out as he came with a strangled cry.

It took a minute for Buck’s brain to come back online, for him to relax into the sweet kisses Tommy was peppering across his jaw and his cheeks and his neck, to ease his finger out and take a deep, sated breath.

“Hi,” Buck slurred after a beat, his voice heavy in a post-orgasm haze.

Tommy grinned, tugging him back in as lazy kisses turned hungry, then lazy again. Buck pulled back to catch his breath, warmth exploding behind his chest as he sat back and took in the sight of Tommy before him. And a few minutes later, when he asked, with just a hint of trepidation creeping into the edges of his voice, if it had been good, he was instantly settled by Tommy's immediate and genuine assurance.

And now, as Buck lays on Tommy’s chest, he doesn’t feel the tackiness of the come cooling between them. He doesn’t feel the wet spot in his own pants, or the faint burn in his wrist. He just feels happy. And good. And proud.

And when, a little while later, Tommy will mumble “C’mon,” and ease Buck up to guide him to the shower, Buck will go easily, without hesitation. He’ll go anywhere Tommy asks him to, would follow Tommy anywhere he wants to go. Maybe that's how it was always destined to be. Or maybe not. But it's where they are now.

They're together, and nothing has ever made Buck feel quite as proud as that.

#my writing #this thing had a mind of its own #i blinked and here we are #bucktommy #buckxtommy #tommy kinard #evan buckley #tevan #kinkley #bucktommy fic #smut #minors dni #bucktommy fanfic #one day i will be better at tagging but evidently today is not that day #and a quick heads up to those of you who like to send me mean messages:#this one isn't buddie and that's gonna have to be ok #we're all big kids here i know you can handle it

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actual-changeling · 1 year

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probably projecting but idc but imagine ellie having a little crisis once they're in jackson and thinking that eventually joel will leave her cause she becomes too much of a burden/too annoying/too whatever and starts pushing his boundaries.

being more rude, being mean, behaving badly, trying everything to push him away cause she would rather figure it out now and have it be her doing instead of joel suddenly leaving her when she isn't prepared for it.

joel is incredibly confused by wtf ellie is doing cause to him it's all out of nowhere but he just assumes she's struggling and does not budge no matter what, he stays calm, lets her do whatever she wants, gives her what she asks for, even fights tommy and maria when they're like "parent ur child" and he just goes "shut tf up she is going through a thing and you will let her"

and eventually ellie reaches her breaking point and just yells at him before she starts sobbing "why dont you leave me already why are you still here i dont understand" and joel holds her face and goes "i wont ever leave you cause you're mine" (theyre too emotionally repressed to reach the ur my kid/dad stage just yet so he does the same thing he did with tess)

anyway they hug a lot and they talk it out in their own way and are happy nothing bad ever happens to the tlou 2 doesnt exist the end

#alex yells at the void #the last of us #tlou #ellie and joel #joel and ellie #ellie williams #joel miller #listen if this doesnt make sense its after 10pm i had like five hours of sleep last night and am mentally ill so #thats that #anyway BPD ellie lives rent free in my mind and i love her little disordered self #pats ellie this girl can fit so much mental illness #considering making this its own fic or putting it in my current wip that im writing a chapter for rn #not about this but like maybe ill put it in at some point

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get-back-homeward · 9 months

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My queue was in the middle of 1968 India trip posts during the anniversary of Brian Epstein’s death and the statue unveiling, so it got me thinking about the connection of these two events.

It’s easy to forget the link between the two because they’re technically 6 months apart. But it feels underappreciated how much Brian’s specter looms large over the entire India trip. And not just because they delay the grief process several months in the name of Paul’s favorite coping mechanism. But because Brian dies the week they first meet the Maharishi:

Tuesday, August 22: The band’s first recording session since June; they record takes 1-8 of Your Mother Should Know

Wednesday, August 23: Recording take 9 of Your Mother Should Know and Brian stops by

Thursday, August 24: The Beatles first meet the Maharishi at a lecture in London. At the end of the day, they hold a press conference, get a 90-min private meeting with the Maharishi, and plan to go to Bangor, Wales for a 10-day training in Transcendental Meditation (TM) the next day.

Friday, August 25: They travel to Wales, the first time in years they’re traveling without Brian or Mal or Neil, and it’s chaotic; after they arrive, they get a message from Brian saying he will join them on Monday.

Saturday, August 26: Following a day of training, they renounce drugs in a press conference (well, LSD at least). Brian spur of the moment drives back to London from Kingsley Hill after the guests he invited for the weekend don’t make it.

Sunday, August 27: Brian dies from an overdose of sleeping pills the previous night; he’s found around noon, the Beatles are inducted into TM before the news about Brian reaches them. They had a private meeting with Maharishi about their grief (he talks about reincarnation and the need for positive thoughts about Brian to help this process). Then Paul goes back to London while John and George are forced to make a statement for reporters staked outside.

Monday, August 28: Paul presents the idea for the MMT film and convinces them to keep working rather than go to India now.

That’s one week.

Whether you want to look at it as fate, consequence, or coincidence, TM and Brian’s death are linked forever because of this timing. The simple act of losing Brian factors into the disparate grief reactions and subsequent burnout symptoms seen visibly in each band member after India and across the next year. But this timing would haunt anyone. And not just because those around Brian report him feeling jealous about their diverted attention toward the guru this week. Just dumb what ifs that grief can haunt your brain with: what if they hadn’t heard about the lecture, what if they hadn’t gone on the Bangor trip or had invited Brian to join them on the train, what if they hadn’t appeared on camera announcing they were giving up drugs because of the Maharishi’s influence, etc etc etc.

This link between TM and Brian’s death is especially worth considering for John, who I believe is the only one who ever directly expresses guilt over his death. This isn’t unique as he expressed guilt for all deaths around him in an opaque way believing he’s a curse on people he loves. But it also is understandable because he had some warning. Pete Shotton talks about a worrying tape message John receives from Brian a few days before. Brian’s father died only 6 weeks prior, and Brian’s secretary finds a suicide note dated just before that. There seems to be some uniformity among those closest to him at this time that while he may have been actively considering suicide earlier in the summer, he wouldn’t have after his father passed out of concern for his mother. Still, even with the idea it was all just a terrible accident, those dumb what ifs would creep up in a case like this.

When you add in that Bangor is a spur of the moment trip, that it’s the first one they’ve taken in years without Brian’s planning and guidance, and that telling Brian or inviting him to join them seems like an afterthought? Well, it’s not hard to see how that close link and the guilt that it inspires would have factored into John’s desperation for finding that answer in India. And his anger when it doesn’t deliver. It looks like a desperation to make a consequential choice matter. Searching for the answer to life guided by a holy man makes TM and the Bangor trip meaningful. It makes it important. But to a guilt-filled brain, the idea the man is a fraud means Brian died for nothing. It’s a 60 foot drop into the earth, nothing but a deep dark hole of emptiness.

Now add that John shares with Brian more than just a tendency for depression.

#you can see why janov had a field day with john #from 2022 #lol this wasn’t supposed to post oops #queue malfunctioned #my text #august #1967 #i started this to get the dates straight and this took on a life of its own #they were too desperate to make eppys death matter #john especially #i guess was my point #brian epstein #john pov #eppy and john #understanding john #1968 #what happened in india #fic bunny #i wrote this august 2022 if anyone is curious about what statue i mean #it’s been sitting in my queue for a year as i roll it over in my mind and try to poke holes in it #i wrote it to get into 68 john pov for fic writing #im still not sure about it spec wise but the dates are solid #guilt john expresses is mostly due to introducing brian to pills and may have included spiking drinks unbeknownst in 62 in woolers tbb #but given how far back his im a curse to everyone thing goes its not hard to extrapolate and think his guilt went further #this sets up conflict between paul as john defaults to eppys gone it’s all over and ascribes all their success to him #and paul is intent on proving him wrong while running from his own grief again #george pov is a bit harder to nail down at this time he kinda acts as the polar opposite of paul #his focus on death predates the maharishi and he’s been dissatisfied with the beatles and looking for a way out for some time #he and pattie are the reason they go hear the maharishi as they were interested in meditation already and had done drug renouncing already

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a-gassy-antelope · 9 days

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#i wanted to wait until i had for Lewis focused ones but i've been dying to share the mirror one #lewis nixon #Nix #band of brothers #ok set the scene its the middle of the night. Lewis is drunk and drowning in his own self hatred and doubts #He stumbles into the bathroom to drink from the faucet and in the dim light given my moonlight he glances into the mirror #his features are distorted and shadowed and it perfectly reflects how he feels on the inside.#gripping the porcelain of the sink he glowers into the Lewis that looks back at him #he's seem this Lewis many times in his lowest moments #“You again.” he grits out with a sneer #The Lewis in the mirror sneers back but not in hatred #in teasing and mocking him #If you see this in my post-war fic mind your business

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vivitalks · 12 days

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guys i genuinely don't know what to do. my quirky little destiel fic which was already far too long to begin with now has a second smaller fic nested inside of it and somehow the second smaller fic is the absolute crackfest of this supernatural/tazamnesty crossover where dean lowkey hooks up with barclay the bigfoot and i don't KNOW what to DO. do i cut the scene. do i post it separately. do i post it separately but ALSO leave it in the fic. do i just pretend like barclay is an OC i made up and all the references to the fictional town of kepler west virginia are incidental. WHAT IS THE MOVE HERE

#stuff #THIS IS NOT WHAT I WANT THIS IS NOT WHAT I PLANNED #i think that i have no choice but to post the dean/barclay section separately as its own thing #because i don't want to tag the destiel fic as a whole as being a taz crossover when it's relaly just the one scene #but i don't want the very small niche audience of spn/tazamnesty crossover enjoyers to miss out on this goofy little thing #mostly for categorization purposes. they need to be separate #BUT THEN WHAT DO I DO ABOUT THAT SCENE IN THE ORIGINAL FIC #it was supposed to be like a 'oh dean's a repressed bisexual how can we unrepress him I Know let's give him a hot stranger man'#'and see what he does'#but then i had too mjuch fun and the hot stranger became bigfoot and i can't go back but i dont want to have to write this shit AGAIN #i get very bored writing sexuality crisis/internal sexuality realization scenes #like ughhhh just be cool with it who cares #this one was only fun because it was dean and BARCLAY TAZAMNESTY #and i cant do that shit again #you know what would be even fucking FUNNIER but would never happen #god. i can't do this. but dean/duck newton would be so funny just sosososo funny #the strong desire to write a legitimate tazamnesty/spn crossover case fic type deal is slowly taking over me #i need to be free #of my MIND PRISON #i'm going to watch jane the virgin. DON'T text.

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ratcandy · 4 months

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i'm just saying that if i wanted to name a sozo fic with spiral of ants lyrics I could do that. and you guys would be powerless to stop me

#forever to dance in a spiral of ants <- would go HARD as a fic title I"m just. saying.#mumbling to myself all day... . you can't remember knowing. you are one ant #actually if i could make animatics if I had that time and motivation YOU WOULD ALL!!! be done for #would I make a spiral of ants dr. sozonius animatic No. I have a different song in mind. that would go hard in its own way #clamtalk #WHEn will this CLAM bitch SHut the Fuck Up? It's NOT HAPPENING any time SOON!!!!!

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sepulchralsmile · 3 months

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next chapter of my caligator fic is already at 6k and the one after that is definitely gonna be more than that 😢 so much plot to write but I don’t wanna bog down the chapters 😭 oh the dilemma of fanfic lol

#like this fic has now taken a mind of its own #i had a simple outline starting out and now im like Oh #there’s just soooooo much to write and include for them #harringrove #billy hargrove #gator tillman #caligator #caligator fic #my fic

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pleasetakethis · 11 months

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Intolerance

Written for Kyman Week 2023, Day 2: First Fight / Elementary School

I went with first fight. My interpretation is the first fight when they're older (seniors in high school).

@kymanweek

Pairing: Kyle Broflovski/Eric Cartman Rating: Explicit Word Count: 6.5k Tags: Enemies to Lovers, Fist Fights, Marijuana, Recreational Drug Use, Kissing, Coming Out, First Time, Hand Jobs, Background Stan Marsh/Wendy Testaburger, Canon-Typical Behavior, Canon-Typical Violence, Idiots in Love Summary: Kyle almost made it through high school without a fight, until his AP World History class--that he shared with Cartman--reached the chapter about the Holocaust. Even though their friend group had drifted apart, he knew Cartman couldn't resist making some sort of rude commentary.

Instead of getting into a fight at school, Kyle told Cartman to meet him at Stark's Pond after school.

The fight led to a few realizations that Kyle never expected.

Read @ AO3

#kyman #kymanweek #kymanweek2023 #kyman fic #south park #bri writes #kyle broflovski/eric cartman #wow #this one had a mind of its own

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chaninfused · 1 year

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Vivid | Lee Minho — map of the allied northwestern states.

coming soon (lies).

#i should probs wait before posting this but idc i wanna post it #oh yeah i gave up on adding additional world info this is just gonna be a map ✋🏻 im tired GHSDJFKSD #pls enjoy this unnecessarily detailed map of the kingdom where the events of vivid unfold 🤸🏻‍♀️#details will be explained in the fic cus i wasnt even planning on making any sort of visual aid (?) for it but here i am #its funny cus not all of these 'states' (called fiefdoms in the fic cus of politics that will be explained BEAR W ME) are even mentioned #in vivid but i had to name and locate them for my own peace of mind 💆🏻‍♀️#source: chaninfused

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youngpettyqueen · 10 months

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I love that the entire point of this fic was to explain why Hawkeye doesn't have a Purple Heart and it takes like 7k to even. get there

#mash #fic bitching #this thing is a beast #I have all the dialogue for that bit written out #and ive had it written out for a good while now #but christ alive this thing has developed a mind of its own #no thanks to Charles' narrative voice and thought process and internal dialogue #shaking him around by his collar #WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS #and now im considering adding a bit where he writes to Daniel...#sighs deeply as I update the doc #bonking Charles and Hawkeye together like Barbies #this is my Bridgerton.

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newervegas · 3 months

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okok sleep deprived BUUT i think i have the j//jk verse figured out so far!!!!!!

three clowns atm!! shiori (g*ojo), minako (t*oji + ch*oso) and kanna (n*anami) !!!!!!! 🌸💕

minako is g/ojos older sister (by a few years she graduated college and was in her first year as a teacher in ye olde flashback era of when g*ojo and besties were in school) she was married and thus and still into today she uses her late spouses surname mizuhara.

shiori is either n//aoyas twin but they weren’t really close as kids and aren’t close now so there isn’t much to that?? (or maybe they were but now its strained due to yk succession who gets to be heir i am not quite sure about that yet!! oo it would give s//uccesiion but make it j//jk OO!!!!!) ORR she’s the older sib of m*ai and m*aki?? and still candidate of heir (?) in that as well?)

BUT ANYWAY..!!!! she was an old classmate of g/ojo and the besties (was maybe in either his year or n/anami and kannas year?) AND BESTEST BUDS. its giving childhood sweethearts to lovers yk? CUUTE.

fast forward t*oji passes….ish. right she and him after they grad they raise her nephew together (he even has a room at her apartment they’ve been SUUPER married but never got together what gives yk?? ILL EXPLAIN 💀) so her career skyrocketed (as an actress?? model? both????) and so things got busy BUUT like they’ve baaasically been living together and raising two youngins (minako and t*oji have a daughter aya <3) they hang out like ALL THE TIME……. and yet not married 💀

(but i mean thats not to say they’ll never yk *giggles* shes taking a year off of to help out and support m*egumi at his first year with goj 🥀🤧 SUPER MARRIED PARENTS!!) theyve alsoo been very invested the last decade or so with getting two of their besties together ever since n*anami said he was interested in her since like forever and never told them about it but swore to never tell her about it so theyve been trying to subtly *wheeze* set them up 🥀🤡

WHICH LEADS ME TO KANNAAA so she’s the granddaughter to the principal of the k*yoto campus and she transferred to tokyo so not to have the rep as “principals kid” (she still did alas 💀✨🤧) and possibly get special treatment bc shes related to one of the administrators. her curse technique she uses (its like c*assia in r*ogue trader-ish seeing emotions, curses and resonances as colors and swipes of paint and swipes of a paintbrush !!) and its helpful as she is a psychotherapist these days for sorcerers !!!!!!! 🌸 very much on the outside cool and collected “has her stuff together.” meanwhile that mask hides behind a hot mess teehee <3 also parties a lot chronic partner drags shiori to all of her after parties and galas and suggests kanna “tags along” so she can party 🥀😌 the girls are thriving!!!!!!!!

she didn’t think anything of nan and in fact likely didn’t even know he existed let alone has had a childhood harbored crush on her 🥀💀 ……. and then they reunite when they’re set up together in ep9 TEEHEE (everyone (g*ojo and shiori) cheers they’re brains for suggesting she aid them HUUUGE) she had planned only to be there for the exchange event and then go back to things buuuut teehee n*anami like kanna fell HARD (everyone’s thrilled especially g*ojo and shiori ndjxxh) and thus decided to take a transfer to be in t*okyo HEHE.

SO GOLDFISH BRAIN their curses!! minako (dream walking/weaving), shiori (pied piper if i make her an actress she doesn’t do musicals or play instruments UNLESS there’s curses in her midst bc she can control them and people in the vicinity with her ability (like meat puppets 🥀🤧 BUUT if i made her a model people already would expect her not to sing so i mean it would be convenient??) and kanna was listed earlier!!

(also when g*ojo and shiori finally DO get together everyone was like ????? we thought you both already were?? and they were like 🥀🧍‍♀️🧍👁️✨😶🫨)

BONUS TRACK VERSION: so nan and kan begin as more of a fwb but it doesn’t last im thinking bc teehee <3 BUUT not before shiori stopped by kans place for something and noticed…… something of nanamis there 🥀💀 (like a tie or jacket of his or something yk?) BUT THE WAY SHIO BOLTSSSS TO DELIVER THE NEWS very had to be ✨ so normal ✨ around them lest ye aforementioned parties are made aware that they know 🌸💕🫨🥴

#leg.txt #t: personal musings #i am so sorry if this makes no sense dkxjxhgc i haven’t gone to sleep and it’s 7 am 💀) ANYWAY i hope y’all are well!!!!!! 🌸💕#*its 8 am now *wheeze* leg go to sleep challenge (impossible) the saga continues 🥀🤡#veery trying to keep it vague xkxhhxh since i think im a bit over halfway thru s1 #and like yk this all could SUUPER change yk?? (alsoo i can’t wait to dev minako and c*hoso once i meet him they’re gonna be the cutest AHH)#alsoo jess i may beeline to the ye olde messages bc i have hyperfixation bad rn 🥀🤧😌✨☺️ binge watching it and feeling normal rn!! <3 #ill go into a lore thingy on minakos new lore later !!!!!! leg need nap *wheeze* 🥀🤧🥴✨#but like in short toj they meet she went on a date to tell him she’s married its dropped #SUBSEQUENTLY he’s given an assignment interestingly to zero her man and the immediate family #(she had to grade an assignment that night where her students wrote their own plays!!)#i mean in his mind even with his profession he’s the tiniest wee bit grateful she wasn’t attending that night 🌸💕☺️😵‍💫#something something in love with the mark trope I LOVE SYMBOLISM!!!!!!!#and like her and goj were SUUPER close until he passed then she never really wanted to see him or speak to him again #leg returning to their v//tm era while also needing to write that w//itcher fic and other things 🥀🥴 but!! we are creating though yay!!!!!!!#that is a BOTCHED summary of things for minakotoj if i ever saw one kdjxhxhx 🥀🤧

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