ah. hm. you know what makes me insane (genuinely) is that none of these people actually gave a shit about liam unless they were punching down on him. caveat: i am not excusing his actions, not by a mile. liam died, and it hurts us. but from maya's perspective, her abuser died today, and i can understand the enormous and complicated relief of that too. so this isn't about her. but. the level of unjustified hatred he receives even in death is. yeah. it's going to make me enraged, because like. every moment spent in the public eye, liam was subjected to bullying and abuse. whether from their management back in the 1D days (yeah! i still remember that shit!) or from their "fans." like. these things don't just happen in a vacuum, people don't break because they experience five seconds of trauma and that was it. there were so many contributing factors to liam's spiral. years of abuse that had nothing to do with his ex. and no one cared! they mocked him and they will mock him still and they will celebrate his death and then when it's someone they like, they'll say "man, how can we let this happen, we need to take the warning signs seriously" like !!!! YEAH. YEAH THAT'S THE FUCKING POINT. AND NONE OF YOU DID. jesus fuck
SAY! THAT! i have not seen a single person i follow excuse anything he did to maya or anyone else. but i have seen people who have continuously looked at liam in bad faith, regardless of context, say that this is so awful and he was so young etc and it’s like. you were dog piling on him! way way way before maya henry said anything incriminating! his death is not about maya henry, his death is about him and the mistreatment and abuse he started receiving when he was a kid that went unchecked and unresolved and turned him into a kind of person he did not want to be. it’s not like he was unaware of his problems. he spoke about his addiction. he spoke about his relationships and the regrets he had and his desire to get better—he just didn’t get the help he needed!!!!!! that can happen to literally anyone. i’m not going to forgive him for his mistakes bc that’s not my place but i sure as hell can and will be bitter about people who think they can say this is a tragedy while they were actively contributing to it
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you can have a threesome with taylor zakhar perez and [redacted] only ONCE. but! ☝🏾 if either one of you comes during the threesome, every other man in the world will die and no other men will ever be born again. do you eternally edge for the sake of humanity or do you just kill everybody for the sake of hashtag living in the moment? this is obviously the most important question you will be asked today.
so if i or tzp cum... every other man on earth dies except the three of us?
WELL i’m so glad you asked 😌 i think the first time it takes them both by surprise but then buck makes it his mission to see how many times he can make her squirt until she’s just an absolute mess ❤️
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WHY WOULD YOU TYPE THIS WORDS WITH YOUR FINGERS AND THEN PRESS POST.
GET AWAY FROM ME
hi jack unfortunately we got married when you weren't looking so you have to pay for an attorney :/
anyway
Buck texts him I need to talk to you and Christopher knows it’s going to be a bad day. He was actually thinking about coming home over Thanksgiving break—it’s not as clean as going back over Christmas, but he misses Denny (who’s been telling him a lot about his cool new sister during their nightly meme exchange), and he misses his school friends (even if they’re exhausting to be around sometimes), and worst of all he misses his family. He misses his dad, he misses Buck. He even misses Tommy—despite only having met him a few times, he knows he’s been good for Buck and for his dad.
He liked seeing his dad smiling so much when he first started hanging out with Tommy, before her. He liked the way Tommy talked to him like an adult with his own thoughts and opinions. He liked the way Tommy talked about Buck, even though it was kind of gross seeing a grown man swoon that much.
But then. I need to talk to you. And it all comes crumbling down around him. Buck even has the nerve to follow it up with Can I call you? like some sort of therapist or school administrator. Chris opts for a video call, because he’s not eighty years old, and when Buck picks up, his eyes are bloodshot, his face is pale, and he’s nestled in his bed like a stereotypical teenager girl after she gets dumped.
Oh. Oh no. “What,” Chris says, and he kind of regrets the video call now, because Buck flinches back like he’s been physically hit.
“Uh, hey!” Buck says, trying to recover and failing miserably. The smile he plasters on his face looks so forced it’s painful, “How’s Texas in November treating you?”
Chris looks at Buck and decides to play nice. Just a little. “Not that I’m not happy to see you, but you sounded like you had something important to talk about.”
“You’re right,” Buck sighs, “I’m procrastinating. I just wanted to let you know that Tommy and I have decided not to see each other anymore.”
And, yeah, Chris is pretty sure he knew this was coming, but it still makes him want to cry, or bite something, or throw his phone into the lake. “What happened?”
“Well—uh—Chris, I don’t—the details really aren’t important,” Buck says, with a wince, “What is important is that I love you, and your dad loves you, and just because Tommy won’t be around doesn’t mean you won’t have our support. I’m really sorry, bud. I know you liked him.”
It blindsides Chris, and he doesn’t know why. He should’ve seen this coming a mile away. He shouldn’t have gotten attached. He never should have sat down to watch The Batman with his dad and Tommy and stolen Tommy’s popcorn and talked shit on Buck’s taste in Star Wars Prequels.
“What did you do?” Chris asks, feeling a startling rage building in his throat. It’s familiar, now. He doesn’t know how he knows, but he knows this is Buck’s fault. Buck looks like a dog that pissed on the carpet and is waiting for you to step on the wet spot.
Buck clears his throat, and visibly weighs truth and comfort in his mind. “I asked him to move in with me. It was—it was too fast—”
“You asked him to move in with you?” Chris balks, “He has a house!”
“I wasn’t thinking!” Buck hisses, “Listen, I know I fu—messed up. I’m sorry. You have no idea how sorry I am, Chris. But it—it was the best decision for both of us.”
“You’re lying,” Chris seethes, because he knows so, so intimately the look of an adult lying to protect his innocence. “He made you happy. He made dad happy.”
Buck looks away, chin trembling, and Chris feels bad for all of three seconds before the rage consumes every other feeling in his chest. “Call me back when you find someone who wants to stay. Otherwise, keep your love life away from me. And maybe you stay away from me too.”
Chris ends the call, and two seconds later Buck is ringing him again. Chris doesn’t pick up, just sets his phone on his desk and buries his face in his arms. He doesn’t want to cry. He did too much of that after he got to El Paso the first time. But he’s going to miss Tommy. He’s going to miss seeing his dad smile like that. He’s going to miss the dopey lovesick way Buck moved through the world.
When Chris finally composes himself, he sees two more missed video calls from Buck, and a string of texts:
Love you, buddy. Sorry you’re upset. Call later to talk? Or call your therapist?
I really am sorry. I thought Tommy was going to stay too.
Text me pls? So I know you’re ok
Chris texts back: im fine. we’ll be fine. i need some time and gets a response almost immediately.
OK. Take the time you need. Your dad says if you decide to come back and you’re still mad you won’t have to see me if you don’t want to
Chris, always being left behind, feels a sick surge of satisfaction at the prospect. He could be the one who leaves. He can cut his losses before they’re fatal, he can amputate the limb before it goes septic. He texts Buck a single k back and does not examine the way something in the back of his head tells him, quite viciously, that this isn’t the first time that Buck’s been left this week.
