Thinking about how Tommy would only ever want Buck to hear his real vows, and now I'm emotional about it 🖤❤️
💍Tommy’s Proposal and Wedding Style — Some Soft Headcanon! (+ A Tiny Private Vows Sketch)
As confident, flirty, and outwardly composed as Tommy is — the real stuff? The heart-deep, fragile, raw stuff? That’s private. That’s sacred. That’s only for the person he loves to see.
So when it comes to proposing and marriage, Tommy wouldn’t want a big spectacle.
🖤 Proposal Style: He'd want it quiet, personal — probably just at home, sitting side by side on the couch. No grand speech. No audience. Maybe even a little rambling or awkwardness because it matters so much to him. A hand squeeze. A soft look. A few words that tumble out before he can overthink them.
("You make the whole damn world feel like home. And I want that. I want you.")
And Buck would probably blink too fast, like he couldn’t quite believe it, before smiling so wide it hurt. Because of course he would say yes.
🖤 Wedding Style: Small, simple, intimate. Maybe even an elopement or a quiet civil ceremony. But the real vows — the real promises — wouldn’t be shared in front of a crowd. Tommy would want only Buck to hear those. No stage. No applause. Just them.
Because those words are supposed to belong only to Buck. Always. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------💬 What do you guys think Tommy’s proposing or wedding style would be? Would he go super small? Would he elope? Would he just ramble a confession into Buck’s shoulder and call it done? 🥹 I’d love to hear your thoughts!
(And because I couldn’t resist... here’s a tiny soft sketch of what I imagine their private vows could look like.) 🖤 ❤️❤️ ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ ✨💖 After the Wedding — Just Them ✨🪢💑💍💫🕊️
The door clicks shut behind them. The city hums outside. The wedding papers are signed. Rings are heavy on their hands.
Tommy sinks onto the couch with a long exhale, running a hand through his hair — the nerves still buzzing under his skin. Buck stands there for a second, like he doesn't know what to do now, until Tommy looks up at him.
"Come here," Tommy says, soft, tugging him down by the hand.
They sit, knees knocking. No music. No flowers. No one watching.
Just them.
Tommy presses his forehead to Buck’s shoulder, breathing him in. For a second, he doesn’t say anything. He just sits there, heart hammering against his ribs.
Then, into the quiet, rough-edged:
"I know it wasn’t fancy. I know we didn’t do the whole thing like people are supposed to." "But Evan— it’s always been you. It’s only you." "I don't need a stage. I don’t need anyone else to hear this." "Just you."
He pulls back just enough to look at him. Eyes shining. Voice thick.
"I promise I'm gonna choose you. Every day. Even when it's hard. Even when it's messy. Even when I screw up — and God, I will screw up." "I'm yours. I want to be yours." "I wanna be the place you come home to. Always."
He pulls back just enough to look at him. Eyes shining. Voice thick.
"You make... everything better. Even me. I— I want you. I need you. Always."
Buck’s hand finds the back of his neck, grounding him. His own voice shakes when he says it back:
"I love you. All of you. Forever."
Tommy lets out a choked laugh, relief and awe tangled up together, and leans in — forehead to forehead, breath to breath.
No one claps. No one cheers. No one has to.
Because it’s not for anyone else.
It’s just them.
And it’s enough.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------P.S. Bored and waiting for lunch, so I just typed this straight into Tumblr. No re-read, no edits. Likely rushed and no forethought. Please pardon any typos, mess, or errors. 🖤
