babydillpickle
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When Buck said he was a "bartender" in "South America" what he actually meant was "stripper" in "Mexico."
And when Eddie said, "What's your problem?" what he actually meant was, "Is this about the time you gave me a lap dance?"
In other words, there's a few things the 118 doesn't know about Buck. Or Eddie. Or Buck and Eddie's relationship.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 84,760
- Chapters:
- 18/18
- Collections:
- 1
- Comments:
- 2379
- Kudos:
- 2315
- Bookmarks:
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Bookmarked by babydillpickle
11 Feb 2021
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Buck doesn’t think that if he were to say, “I’m in a bad place”, that anyone would turn him away. Really, he doesn’t. The 118 has too many good, kind people for that.
But every time he wants to open his mouth, to say something, to reach out to Eddie or Bobby or Hen or Chim, he hears Eddie yelling, “you’re exhausting.”
—you’re exhausting, you’re exhausting, you’re exhausting—
So each day he does his job and he laughs and he jokes and he pretends he’s the care-free goofball he’s always been. And each day he packs away his bruises and his worries, takes them home to his empty loft with its quiet rooms, and licks his wounds in silence.
Bookmarked by babydillpickle
11 Feb 2021
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The making and the breaking of bread, throughout the centuries.
The first time Nicky bakes bread for them to share — thick, rounded puffs of aish baladi, prepared with the utmost concentration and care — the sun has begun to set in Cairo, staining the sky the same vivid colour as the tangerines that grow ripe and heavy on the trees outside their door.
Bookmarked by babydillpickle
10 Feb 2021
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life is a gradual series of revelations by emjee (MerryHeart)
Fandom: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
05 Feb 2021
- Words:
- 7,409
- Works:
- 3
- Bookmarks:
- 60
Bookmarked by babydillpickle
05 Feb 2021
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Yusuf sighs. “Allah forgive me, but I do not want to kill you again,” he says to the Frank. “Please, no more death. It’s enough.” He slowly spreads his arms, palms up, hoping that his meaning will be clear.
The Frank just gazes at him for a moment, his unsettling blue eyes sharp but the rest of his face lined with fatigue. At last he nods, says something in his own language and, carefully telegraphing his movements, lifts his sword from his lap and sets it down in the sand beside him. He holds out his palms, mirroring Yusuf. Thus begins their tentative truce.
Or: another enemies-to-lovers backstory of dubious historical accuracy.
Bookmarked by babydillpickle
01 Feb 2021