#DotCom Secrets

[harmoniouslymindful]

Get Your Free Copy Of Russell Brunson's DOTCOM SECRETS Book To Maximise Your Business Success

How To Get Your FREE Copy Of Russell Brunson’s NEW Dot Com Secrets Book

Maximise Your Business Success With A Free Copy Of Russell Brunson’s NEW Dot Com Secrets Book Do you have your copy of DotCom Secrets? Did you know that having a good funnel is like having the best sales person on the planet working for you? Did you know that Russell Brunson, Co-Founder of Clickfunnels, has completely revised and republished his bestselling DOTCOM SECRETS book, which teaches…

[dawiebe]

The Surprising Truth No One Tells You About Content

In creating content, it’s easy to get lost in the weeds without ever finding your path. Here’s the surprising truth no one tells you about content… It’s Not About the Type of Content We are often led to believe that content is, first and foremost, about the type of content you publish. Blog posts, infographics, podcasts, videos. Pick one. Picking one and sticking to it is good advice. Choosing…

[profunnelbuilder]

DotCom Secrets Summit is a virtual program arranged by Russell Brunson where top entrepreneurs come and teach their own idea and method of funnel secrets. Russell Brunson, the writer of the book DotCom Secrets, arranged this for the people who want to be more successful to promote their products and grow more sales. In this summit, the

[abbygracerecs]

Matthew Gray Gubler and Co Fic Recommendations

Spencer Reid

Going Live - @doublekrecs smut

Cockwarming - doublekrecs smut

Mine - @boldlyvoid smut

Professional hairdresser - boldlyvoid smut

Journey to Camelot - boldlyvoid smut

36 questions to fall in love - boldlyvoid anything Em writes is amazing! also go buy something from them!

10 days - boldlyvoid

Christmas Cookies - boldlyvoid

For the love of lace - @reidmotif smut

And for my next trick - reidmotif smut

Double-booked for the night - reidmotif smut

Dear Diary - @reiderwriter Warning - CNC smut

I won't let you forget - reiderwriter smut

Flirting with the FBI - reiderwriter smut

CNC - reiderwriter smut

another cnc - reiderwriter smut

That's what you get series - reiderwriter smut

Isn’t she pretty, daddy? - reiderwriter

Mutual - @anothermansjeans

Youtuber!reader - anothermansjeans

Ask the girl out! - @babymetaldoll

I love you - babymetaldoll

Online Secret Santa - babymetaldoll

Birthday wishes - babymetaldoll

Porcelain - @imagining-in-the-margins

Funny thing fate - imagining-in-the-margins

Studious shadow - imagining-in-the-margins

Soulmate - imagining-in-the-margins

Different Dialects - imagining-in-the-margins

Mister Spencer - imagining-in-the-margins

Java Jive - imagining-in-the-margins

Heavenly - @dudeitiskarev smut

The First Time - @mindfullycriminal smut

Mistletoe for two - @andiebeaword smut

Daddy’s little helper - @stairain smut

Perverse temptations - @subspencer smut

Teacher, Teacher - @differentkettleoffishalltogether smut

Raw - @minswriting smut

Bang My Line - @daddy-dotcom smut

Unlucky in Love - @criminalmindzjunkie

Fluff alphabet - @cacoetheswriting

Things we know by heart - @juniorgman187

Fresh baked - @reidgraygubler

Dream a little dream - @criminalmindswriting

Rogue thoughts - @sometimesiwritebadly

Green was the color - @strawberryspence

Words of two souls - @reidandweep

The shoebox under the bed - @thatgirlstrawberry

Pregnant wife - @radiant-reid

Baby daddy - @shemarmooresfedora

Santa doesn’t know you like I do - @swiftlyinlove

Hidden - @spencexreidimagine

Hypothetically - @incognit0slut

The boy next door - @a-simple-gaywitch

Drunk in love - @nereidprinc3ss

Missed it - @kisses4reid

Neighbor AU- @endearng

I hope we meet again - @blueeyedgirll

Single Dad AU - @luveline

Down the fire escape and into my heart - @justawhitebloodcell01

I wish I knew you wanted me - @irndad

Twenty questions - @viaisms

No more misunderstandings - @reidmarieprentiss

Fluffy - @gghostwriter

First Meeting - @0o-junebug-o0

Cherry Picking - @certaimromance

Secret Santa - @reidswhre

Like a cake - @ocinstar

Cinema 7 - @reidmania

Longing for you - @proseandpretrichor

Cuddle Buddies - @foxy-eva

Birthday Boy - @planetpedri

Cryptic - @pathologicalreid

Lovebird - @spencerreidenjoyer

Fangirl - @mariasont

There beneath - @halfwayhearted

[carlos-in-glasses]

2024 Fic Round Up

I have posted 12 fics on Ao3 this year! I’m amazed. I truly thought I would post maybe half of what I did in 2023, which was 13! I’m going to go ahead and assume I won’t post as much as this next year as my work life continues to go hoo-ha bananas busy, but writing Tarlos fic is still my favourite thing. I’m super excited with the AU I’m working on currently, so that’s definitely one for 2025!

Something I’ve really enjoyed this year is writing fic because of gifts, organized exchanges, prompts and sparking ideas with friends. Fics that wouldn’t exist without others. It’s reinforced for me how this is a creative community and it’s wonderful to be part of it. Art begets art!

In order of most recent postings:

September – October- November - December

Fall On Your Knees (15k, E), my Secret Santa fic for @heartstringsduet

Read if you’re in the mood for: Tarlos breakup era angst, fun smut and family feels.

Rhythms (107k so far, still posting, E)

Read if you’re in the mood for: Carlos reflecting on his poet-jock closeted high school life and working on his vows for TK years later after fighting through writer’s block.

Tell Me How I’m Supposed to Breathe With No Heir (11k, E)

Read if you’re in the mood for: A 4x12 coda in which TK tries to figure out why he wants to be a dad.

Deeper than Breath, Closer than Air (5k, E)

Read if you’re in the mood for: The aftermath of TK saving the world with his little fan.

His Husband's Voice (1k, M)

Read if you’re in the mood for: Carlos crying with TK behind a bush.

June- July - August

Let Me Be The One Who Shines With You (13k) – a birthday fic for @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut

Read if you’re in the mood for: An origin story/love note for TK’s yellow hoodie.

Keep the Lights On (13k, E)

Read if you’re in the mood for: A chaotic 1x05 coda. One of my faves from this year. There's something about season 1 Tarlos.

The Wonder of It (30k words, E) – A birthday fic for @thisbuildinghasfeelings, written with @ladytessa74 and @lemonlyman-dotcom

Read if you’re in the mood for: Tarlos becoming dads and a mystery solved!

April-May

I Was Thinking About Your Mouth (31k words, E) – for @welcometololaland because a conversation with her inspired it!

Read if you’re in the mood for: Particularly stupid sex pertaining to TK accidentally proposing to Carlos during very good blow jobs.

January-February (nothing in March)

Search and Rescue (15k, E) – A Tarlos Secret Cupid fic for @honeybee-taskforce

Read if you’re in the mood for: Tarlos attempting to adopt a wise, retired service dog and ending up with a goofy golden retriever who turns their lives upside down.

Where All This Love Comes From (107k words, E)

Read if you're in the mood for: A journey through Carlos trying to figure out his relationship with his father, as well as who killed him, and TK opening up to Carlos about his addiction. Probably my personal favourite.

You Can Leave Your Hat On (6K, E)

Read if you’re in the mood for: Shivering, bickering guys who are super hot for each other and also the most absurd paragraph about ~self pleasure~ I could ever have dreamed of writing. Not that I dreamed of it ever really. But here we are. I was very proud to begin 2024 with this fic.

Big love for the tags: @heartstringsduet @whatsintheboxmh @bonheur-cafe

@ladytessa74 @everlastingday @thisbuildinghasfeelings @futures-tense

@henrygrass @strandnreyes @alrightbuckaroo @lemonlyman-dotcom

@alrightbuckaroo

Open tag and tags below!:

@nisbanisba @sapphic--kiwi @emsprovisions @ironheartwriter

@hereghostslive @nancys-braids @captain-gillian

@butchreyes @literateowl @laelipoo @pimento-playing-hopscotch

@eclectic-sassycoweyes @tellmegoodbye @orchidscript

@herefortarlos @sugdenlovesdingle @theghostofashton @freneticfloetry

@chicgeekgirl89 @liminalmemories21 @carlossreaders

@freneticfloetry @welcometololaland @rmd-writes

@lightningboltreader @goodways @paperstorm @reyesstrand - If you want to share/haven't already! No pressure ever!

And @reasonandfaithinharmony and @lutavero for any gifs from this year if you want to do a gif round up!

[coatedinhoney]

Solana's Skin Care Routine | CC Showcase

Lana has uploaded for her followers her secret recipe to perfect skin! See the video here ~

vaniety planet facial brush 2. facial serum 3. balm dotcom

4. bunny stick 5. facial cleanser 6. facial mist

7. lotion 8. sheet masks 9. dropper face serum

~ all credit goes to the gorgeous cc creators ~

@aira-cc @dscombobulate @simkoos @leaf-motif

[emsprovisions]

Happy Wednesday, all! I'm sharing a bit more from top secret au. And under the cut, I'm taking a page from @everlastingday's book and showing you my other wip project, a placemat I'm in the middle of crocheting! also thanks to @alrightbuckaroo I am like obsessed with these dividers now.

TK wakes, disoriented and confused at first as to why he feels so warm in his usually cold room, and why he’s so tangled up in his sheets, and when did he turn on bear ambience to sleep to before remembering that the warm and solid weight against his back is Carlos and he’s just had the best night of sleep he’s had in probably years.

Carlos snores lightly next to his ear, a large, warm arm draped over TK’s waist and TK is obsessed and also feels silly that he feels so giddy about waking up beside anyone.

It’s been a long time, and while he’s aware it probably won’t happen again, it feels nice, and it makes him feel happy. Happier than he’s been in a long time, if he were to be honest with himself.

Carlos suddenly draws a sharp intake of breath and make a few groaning noises as he begins to stir. TK rolls over to face him, running a hand over his bare shoulder and down his arm.

“Good morning,” he whispers.

“Good morning,” Carlos rasps, voice thick with sleep as his eyes focus on TK.

Last night, TK had discovered what Carlos looks like in glasses too. He knew from the background check he’d conducted that Carlos’s drivers license states that he wears corrective lenses, but it was another thing to watch him borrow a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie to go back out to his car after dark to fish out his spares. 

He’s handsome in them, and TK feels beyond lucky to have witnessed it. He thinks Carlos is cute now too, keeping his face extra close to TK’s so he has any chance of seeing TK clearly.

“Can I make you breakfast?” he asks softly, studying TK’s face like he’s trying to commit it to memory.

“You can cook too, Officer Reyes?” TK grins and Carlos rolls his eyes. “I can’t promise there’s very much in the fridge, but sure, you can make me breakfast.”

Thank you for the tags @whatsintheboxmh @heartstringsduet @henrygrass @thisbuildinghasfeelings @nisbanisba @paperstorm @everlastingday @bonheur-cafe @strandnreyes @carlos-in-glasses @carlossreaders @alrightbuckaroo @eclectic-sassycoweyes @lemonlyman-dotcom

No pressure tags @ironheartwriter @butchreyes @reyesstrand @tellmegoodbye @lightningboltreader @rangersoup @chicgeekgirl89 @decafdino @captain-gillian @nancys-braids @welcometololaland @futures-tense

And here's the link to the pattern I'm using to create this placemat :)

[tellmegoodbye]

Well, it's been about two months since my last proper wip wednesday. I apologize for that! College came and kicked my ass, but I finally have a few snippets to share today.

Thank you @ironheartwriter for tagging me!

---

First, I want to share a little something from a super secret project that me, @certifiedflower and @neversleepuntilfive have been working on... 👀

He can hear him pleading. Stay with me, TK. His voice echoes around him, bounding off of the walls of his makeshift tomb – as temporary as it may be. This is where he's going to die. So close, yet so far from the voice in his phone, from the face he aches to hold one last time before he closes his eyes for good. Stay with me, baby, he hears again. Stay with me. He sounds so far away, like he's calling to him from the opposite end of a crowded room. The floor is splitting beneath their feet and he's reaching out, desperate to clear that chasm and grasp onto TK before it's too late, but TK can't hold on anymore. He can feel his consciousness slipping away, no longer suspended by the strength his husband's voice gave him. He sucks in another breath, strangled and fear-stricken, and he exhales shakily. “I love you…Carlos.” The last of his energy siphons into his final words. He breathes through them slowly, his voice dripping with determination. Carlos is going to understand that the last thing he ever feels, the last thing he ever knows, is the love he has for him. He wants him to feel it exploding through the phone, forever woven into eternal existence, into the air his husband breathes, freed from the confines of his dying body.

Now I would like to share another snippet from my spicy fic. As is standard with anything from this fic, I am paging @heartstringsduet because I know you've been really interested in this one!

“Baby, breathe.” Carlos used to blush every time TK called him that. He'd switched from saying babe at some point without realizing, the subtle shift in vulnerability coming naturally for him as he started using a pet name only reserved for people he feels safe with. He could tell Carlos wasn't used to being showered with such a specific type of endearment, the kind that leaves no room for uncertainty about the way TK feels – a love so strong that it comes pouring out in the way he opens himself up to him, claiming him as his baby. Carlos seldom returns that particular affection, but when he does it's when he's feeling particularly protective, tender, or vulnerable. Or, alternatively, when he wants to ravish TK in bed. His voice drops an octave and he repeats the word in an almost-whisper, his lips ghosting just behind his ears and falling down to press a soft, wet kiss to shoulder. TK sighs, understanding exactly what Carlos is signaling to him right now. He wants to take care of him. Take him out of his head. And who is he to say no to that? "Do you want me to take care of you now, my love?"

Tagging: @strandnreyes @paperstorm @bonheur-cafe @lemonlyman-dotcom @carlos-in-glasses @emsprovisions @sapphic--kiwi @literateowl @eclectic-sassycoweyes @nancys-braids @captain-gillian @thisbuildinghasfeelings @alrightbuckaroo @theghostofashton @freneticfloetry @everlastingday @chicgeekgirl89 @morganaspendragons @carlos-tk @henrygrass @carlossreaders @rangersoup @futures-tense @heartstringsduet @goodways @whatsintheboxmh @decafdino @lightningboltreader @liminalmemories21 @reyesstrand @butchreyes @annoyingcloudearthquake @certifiedflower @neversleepuntilfive @the-126-family @nisbanisba + open tag

[reyesstrand]

wip wednesday

thanks for the tags @paperstorm @carlossreaders @literateowl @nisbanisba @strandnreyes @everlastingday @whatsintheboxmh @ironheartwriter @laelipoo @tellmegoodbye @lemonlyman-dotcom @carlos-in-glasses and happy holidays! here’s a little something from my posted secret santa fic before i run off to work :’(

“Yeah,” TK says, his voice rough as he stifles another groan. His hand curls around the back of Carlos’ head, fingers scratching through his hair, his thumb brushing the shell of his ear. “Mmph. Love you.”

It’s a quick peak after that, the two of them coming undone a breath apart. They curl around each other and slump over to the middle of the bed, stretching their legs out and murmuring their morning I love yous. The digital alarm clock across the room blinks 7:17 in faded green neon, a pressing reminder that they only have so much time tucked away in their own space.

“So, your dad’s at five?” Carlos asks, even as TK wiggles against his side and tries to nudge him to turn over. “Hey, I’m cuddling you here, dude.”

“Let me hold you,” TK says, sliding his arms around Carlos’ middle. “Come on, you had all of last night.”

“Babe, Jonah’s gonna be up in like, ten minutes,” Carlos laughs, even as he happily gives in to his husband’s whims and pout and turns over to his right side. “We should be up before then. You know he has no problems just busting in here.”

“Gimme five minutes,” TK says, properly spooning up against Carlos’ back and nuzzling his face against his throat. “M’kay, what were you saying? Dad’s at five?”

“That’s what he told you, right?” Carlos asks, tracing mindless shapes over TK’s forearm with his index finger. His blunt fingernail follows the lines of the honeybee, something he’s found himself able to do without even looking.

no pressure tagging @butchreyes @liminalmemories21 @theghostofashton @emsprovisions @alrightbuckaroo @pelorsdyke @captain-gillian @nancys-braids @heartstringsduet @bonheur-cafe @never-blooms @freneticfloetry @goodways & open tag!!

[chicgeekgirl89]

A/N: @lemonlyman-dotcom. My darling. I HAVE CONNED YOU!! This is like in the Hallmark movies when you find out he/she was really a prince(ss)/secret millionaire/the owner of the evil corporation all along. YOUR SECRET SANTA IS MEEEEEEEEE!!! The Christmas tree fic is a FAKE!! I pretended to moan and groan about how I couldn't get this fic written BUT REALLY I WAS DELIGHTEDLY CRAFTING IT FOR YOU THE WHOLE TIME!!! Oh the evil joy it brought me every time I posted a little snippet of complete malarky and you reblogged it MWAHAHAHA!! 😈 How did I do? Were you fooled by my outstanding acting? Hehe, I hope you were and that this is a complete surprise! I took your @tarlos-santa prompt idea about Owen and Carlos teaming up to get T.K. the perfect gift and ran with it. It's full of holiday shenanigans and little easter eggs for you, good luck finding them all! (Also I hope you like this badly photoshopped header, I am delighted by the low quality badness of it lol!)

Read on AO3

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

Carlos freezes, his lips pressed against the soft skin that lies just below T.K.’s bellybutton. His left index finger is hooked into the elastic waistband of T.K.’s boxers and  he’s already pulled them down low enough to see the sharp jut of his husband’s hipbone. He lifts his head, slightly alarmed. “Am I sure I want to give my husband a pre-work blowjob? Well I was, but now I’m not.”

“No, not that. Please keep doing that,” T.K. says, shifting a little bit, his hands going up behind his head. “I meant are you sure you want to go Christmas shopping with my dad today?”

“Oh, that.” Carlos presses another kiss into him. “Why wouldn’t I want to go?”

“Because my dad is…a lot,” T.K. says, then sucks in a breath when Carlos scrapes his teeth over that sexy hipbone. “And he’s terrible at Christmas shopping.”

“I know,” Carlos mumbles against T.K.’s skin. “That’s why I’m going.”

A week ago Owen had given him a call and invited him out for lunch and Christmas shopping. Surprised, but also pleased, he’d readily agreed and they’d made plans to meet at a restaurant in The Domain and hit up some of the stores afterward. Owen had texted Carlos last night to remind him to wear comfortable, practical footwear and bring reusable bags. 

“Maybe,” he says, nipping at the sensitive skin in the crux of T.K.’s thigh so that he squirms, “if I go, you’ll actually get something you like this year.”

“You really think that you can convince my dad to buy something normal for Christmas?” T.K. scoffs. “Good luck.”

Carlos looks up at him again. “You underestimate the cow eyes?”

“You’re going to use the cow eyes on my dad?”

“If I have to.”

“You’re going to use the cow eyes on my dad to stop him from buying me a fifteen pound block of imported cheese from Italy because the salesman tells him it’s a good deal? Or a decorative, three foot tall, hand carved horse statue that he thinks matches the aesthetics of the loft? Or—“

“I will take care of it,” Carlos assures him.

“What if he—“

“T.K.!”

“What?”

“How about we stop talking about your dad while I’m trying to blow you?”

He tugs T.K.’s boxers down, freeing his morning wood and T.K. lets out a hiss as the cool air of the loft touches his skin along with Carlos’ fingers. “Okay, yeah,” he says, his voice tight with the beginnings of pleasure. “We can do that.”

Two hours later Carlos is showered and dressed and pulling into the parking lot on the north side of the Domain. He checks the mall map and heads toward Flower Child, a restaurant with great vegan options and fresh ingredients.

Owen is sitting at a table outside, a Yankees hat on his head, and he stands when Carlos gets close, excitement on his face. “Carlos, good to see you,” he says, pulling him in for a brief hug.

“Thank you for the invitation.” 

Owen looks at him sympathetically as they sit. “I know this year is going to be hard,” he says. “And I know Christmas shopping with me isn’t the same as doing it with your dad, but I want to help where I can.”

Carlos bites back a snort of laughter. He and his dad never once Christmas shopped together. His dad hated shopping. It’s very sweet that Owen—who loves shopping and would consider an afternoon at the mall with his son a highlight of his week—thinks Gabriel and Carlos would have enjoyed doing the same, but honestly the idea of trying to drag his dad around for hours buying presents is hilarious.

“That’s very thoughtful Owen, thank you,” Carlos says, hoping with all his might that his dad is watching down from somewhere and laughing too.

“I took the liberty of ordering us both their seasonal rose petal lemonade,” Owen says. “Have you had the Glow Bowl here? The shiitake combined with the sunflower sauce is di-vine.”

“That sounds good,” Carlos says, flipping the menu over to take a look.

“The last time I brought T.K. here he had the roasted beet and organic apple salad.”

“I think I remember that,” Carlos says with a smile. His father-in-law has a penchant for taking menu items very seriously, a fun quirk that has carried over to T.K. His husband gets very excited anytime they try a new restaurant. Although he usually ends up liking Carlos’ meal better than his own, stealing bites until Carlos offers to switch. 

He ends up ordering the Glow Bowl and Owen decides to go wild and try the Brussels sprouts and organic kale salad after some banter with their server. “So,” Owen says, taking a sip of his lemonade. “How’s the new job?”

“Not so new anymore,” Carlos says. It’s been almost eight months at this point, but he and Owen really haven’t spent any significant time together since he started with the Rangers outside of professional reasons. He’s barely had time for his husband let alone anyone else. “I feel like I’m starting to find my place though. It’s different from beat work.”

“I’d imagine so. The hat and the belts alone are quite the change,” Owen comments.

Carlos chuckles. “Yeah it’s definitely a look.”

“Well, it’s one you wear quite well. How’s your mom?”

His smile dims. “She’s okay. The holidays are hard. She and my dad had a lot of traditions. But my tías and my sisters have been around a lot, so that helps.”

“And she has a son who is carrying on his father’s legacy,” Owen says. “I’m sure that helps too.”

Carlos shrugs, letting his fingers hug the glass in front of him, the condensation making them slick. “I guess.”

“You are humble to a fault Carlos,” Owen says. “I’m sure both of your parents are proud of you. I know I am. The way you’ve handled things this last year is impressive.”

“It doesn’t feel impressive.” Vulnerability slips into his tone. It’s not something he allows often, but his father-in-law pulled him back from the edge of making one of the biggest, most irreparable mistakes of his life. He’s already seen Carlos at his worst; admitting that he’s been struggling won’t do any damage. “It feels like I’m barely keeping my head above water most days,” he admits.

“The first year of marriage is always challenging,” Owen tells him factually. “I would know, I’ve done it several times. You and T.K. have faced some unique circumstances that have made it even more difficult. But you’re still together, working on yourselves, your relationship, your careers. That is impressive. Don’t forget to let yourself celebrate it.”

“Thanks,” Carlos says, dropping his eyes as his cheeks flush. “That means a lot.”

“Good.” Owen taps the table, his face serious. “Now, let’s talk about T.K.’s birthday. I have some ideas.”

They eat and talk with companionable ease. Carlos steers Owen away from the idea of hiring a mariachi band and circus performers for the party, but does concede to hiring a DJ. They also decide to have it catered by Carlos and T.K.’s favorite taco truck; the one that makes homemade churros that are to die for.

When they finish eating they throw away their garbage and Owen looks at him with renewed vigor. “So,” he says, “where should we start?”

“Well I have a few ideas—” 

“So do I! Come on, let me show you!”

Carlos follows his father-in-law down the line of stores. Even though it’s seventy-five degrees outside the place feels festive. There are windows decked out with wreaths and snowmen and Christmas trees, and Mariah Carey is blasting over the speakers. Families walk by, some smiling, others arguing. There are little kids dressed in their holiday best, ready for family photos, and a few melting down over toys that Santa won’t be bringing for several more weeks.

They walk into a store selling fitness equipment and Owen gestures grandly to a large black tub. “An ice bath!”

Carlos tries to school his face into something neutral. “An ice bath?”

“They are all the rage in the health and fitness industry right now. They boost your metabolism, provide stress relief, reduce inflammation, and improve your mood.”

“Mhm,” Carlos says, fully aware of the ice bath craze, but seeing for the first time just how difficult it might be to sway his father-in-law away from some of his more zany gift ideas.

Owen’s face falls in a way that is so reminiscent of T.K.’s disappointed face that Carlos feels a pang of guilt. “You don’t like it.”

“No, I—it’s a great idea,” Carlos says. “I’m just…I’m not sure where we’d put it in the loft.” He tries to emphasize how small and unsuited the loft is to this kind of gift without saying it aloud.

“Ah!” Owen says. “That’s the thing! This one is completely collapsible. Store it in the closet until you want it and then inflate it with one of these pumps in less than twenty minutes.” He grabs one off the shelf and holds it up to show Carlos. “It’s a cinch!”

“It…yeah. Seems…easy,” Carlos says, wondering how the hell he’s going to steer this ship to something more appropriate for T.K.

“And,” Owen says, “it’s really two for the price of one. Because you both can use it. Not at the same time obviously, it’s a very small tub.”

“Right,” Carlos says.

Owen eyes him critically. “Hm…you don’t seem to love the idea.”

“Oh no, I mean, if you think T.K.—“

“No, no, I can see it in your eyes. This isn’t the one. Not to worry, I have other options.”

He marches down a few aisles, but before they can find whatever it is he’s got his mind on, a smiling employee blocks their path. “Hello gentlemen. Finding everything you need?” she asks.

“Ah, not quite yet,” Owen tells her. “We are shopping for my son. This is his husband, Carlos.”

“Nice to meet you,” she says and something in her eyes hooks onto them. “You know, I’m not sure what exactly you’re in the market for, but we are having a sale on our elite face shape massagers.”

“Face shape massager?” Carlos asks in confusion.

She whips out a white box with a circular shaped device on the inside. “Yes! This little piece of technology can help reduce the appearance of double chins and improve skin quality! Would you like to give it a try?”

“Um, no, that’s okay,” Carlos says. “You know I really think we need to be moving on, right Owen?”

“No, no!” Owen says. “Give it a try. It can’t hurt. We Strand men have strong jawlines and I’m sure T.K. would like to keep his intact as the years go by. Let’s see how it works.”

Before Carlos can protest further the woman is looping the device over his head, his jaw clamping shut at the pressure. She pushes a button and red light illuminates his skin while the entire thing begins to vibrate. “Can you feel how the photons lift and firm the skin?” she asks.

“Mhmm,” Carlos says, the sound vibrating along with the massager.

“That is incredible,” Owen says, taking a step closer so he can get a better look. “It has red and blue infra lights?”

“It does! And it works even better when combined with our Cleopatra LED Light Mask,” she says, showing them a plastic mask that would make even Hannibal Lecter flee in terror. Carlos can only imagine how T.K. would use that to torture him, leaning over him in the middle of the night, his face lit by the red glow of the lights…

Carlos rips the massager off his face and hands it back to the woman. “Thank you so much for your time, but I think we’re going to go a different direction.”

"I don’t know Carlos, these both seem very reasonably priced,” Owen says, checking out the tag.

“You know what, I actually think T.K. already has both of these,” Carlos says in desperation. He mentally casts around for a believable lie. “…Marjan got them for his birthday… last year.”

“Oh, well, in that case—“

“What about for you, sir?” the woman asks Owen, her skills at capturing her prey honed to perfection after years of retail work. “I can see you take excellent care of your skin. Your pores are nearly non-existent.”

Owen beams and fifteen minutes later they walk out the door with two bags of “me-gifts” for him to put under his own Christmas tree. “Are you sure you don’t want some of these under eye de-puffers?” Owen asks, “They come in a two-pack.”

“I’m good,” Carlos says. “Thank you though.”

“Let me know if you change your mind.”

“Will do.”

“Okay,” Owen claps his hands. “So we’ve struck out on T.K. so far, but I have another idea.”

“Great!” Carlos says.

Owen looks at him with great confidence. “A hat.”

“A hat?”

“A hat.”

Forty-five minutes later Carlos loses the hat battle and they leave a Western wear shop with a brown leather cowboy hat for T.K. that he is going to love, but will have no practical use for outside of their bedroom. Owen is thrilled that his son can now match with Carlos, and Carlos is just glad they got the brown one and not the shiny blue one with silver stars.

He offers to take their bags to the car since they’re starting to get in the way and he’s on his way back, trying to figure out how he’s going to convince his father-in-law to go to Dick’s Sporting Goods and buy some batting gloves that are actually on T.K.’s wish list. Owen will probably dislike this idea because it is both practical and reasonably priced.

Carlos is plotting his plan of attack when a hand reaches out and grabs him, jerking him behind a sign with a map of the mall on it. “Whoa, hey!” he says, before realizing it’s Owen who has latched onto his arm. “What’s going on?”

“Look. Over there.”

Carlos follows the line of his finger to a kiosk selling cellphone cases and accessories. “Owen, what am I looking at?”

“That guy.”

“The one that looks like Santa?” The jolly, bearded fellow is talking to the seller at the kiosk, smiling and laughing.

“And the other guy.”

A shifty looking man, younger than the bearded grandfatherly type who is talking to the salesperson, is lurking near the stand too. “Okay…” Carlos says.

“I’ve been following them since you left. I’m pretty sure they just shoplifted from Bath and Body Works. And it looks like they’re about to do it again. We need to stop them.”

“Owen, that’s a pretty serious accusation. Are you sure that’s really what you saw?”

“The jolly one was distracting the workers with his holiday charm and I’m pretty sure the shifty one put several hand sanitizers in his pockets.”

Carlos barely stops himself from rolling his eyes. “Pretty sure?”

“There was a stand of candles in the way, but I know I’m very sure he was shoving them in by the handfuls.”

“Then let’s go tell a mall security guard.”

“All they’re going to do is call APD. You can arrest them now and prevent more crime from happening before APD can even get here.”

“I can’t arrest them because you think you saw them do something,” Carlos says.

Owen sighs. “Just watch. You’ll see.”

As they watch the shifty guy moves away from the stand and slinks toward another store a little further down. Carlos relaxes his shoulders. “See? Nothing happening here. Let’s check out—“

He’s interrupted by a huge crash as an entire shelf of the cellphone kiosk hits the floor, sending things flying everywhere. Everyone in the area stops and stares as the kiosk worker reels backward and falls to the floor.

Owen and Carlos move simultaneously. “Whoa, easy there,” Owen says as the kiosk worker tries to sit up. “That was a nasty fall. Are you hurt?”

“No, no, I’m okay,” he says, wincing as he pushes himself upright. “I don’t know what happened.”

“It looks like someone removed the pins from this shelf,” Carlos says, examining it. 

“Removed the pins? Why would someone do that?”

“Could have been a prank of some kind,” Carlos says.

“Or it could have been someone trying to create a distraction,” Owen says, giving Carlos a meaningful look.

“A distraction?” The guy looks confused. “What?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Carlos tells him. “Here, we’ll help you clean this up.”

They spend a few minutes picking up cellphone bits and bobs and helping the guy get the shelf back into place. “Is that everything?” Owen asks.

The guy looks around. “Yeah. I think so. Thank you guys for your help, I’m sure you have other things to get back to.”

As soon as they’re out of earshot Owen shakes his head. “Told you. Shoplifters.”

“Owen…”

“I know, you think I’m crazy. But where are that Santa guy and his shifty elf helper now, huh? Did they stick around to help? No. I bet you that shifty guy loosened that shelf on purpose and then he and Santa grabbed things from one of these nearby stores while we were distracted.”

“Or,” Carlos says pragmatically, “the shelf was never installed correctly and fell on its own.” He smiles and nods toward the sporting goods store. “How do we feel about some batting gloves?”

Owen does buy the batting gloves, but Carlos suspects it’s only because he’s preoccupied with his fictional shoplifter case. He keeps looking around, trying to be casual about it, but failing miserably. Strand men are great at a lot of things; subtlety is not one of them.

“You’re still thinking about those guys, huh?” Carlos asks as they walk out of Dick’s Sporting Goods.

“I know in my gut that they’re up to no good, Carlos,” Owen says. “You see a lot of shady people in my line of work.”

“More than in mine?” Carlos asks skeptically.

“Okay, fair point. But are you really telling me you don’t think they looked a little suspicious?”

Carlos mentally reviews what he saw earlier. “They definitely looked like they could be trouble. But we have no proof. Unless we see something else, there’s nothing we can do.”

“I’m so glad you agree,” Owen says. “I think it’s time for further investigation.”

Carlos stops walking, his brow furrowing in surprise. “Further investigation?”

“Come on. We’re making a little detour. I hope you know what you want for Christmas.”

Carlos follows him toward the center of the mall where a giant Christmas display has been set up and fake snow flurries from the sky. There’s a large gingerbread cottage, fake reindeer, a candy-cane lined path, mounds of cotton acting as the only snowfall Texas will see this year, and the centerpiece of it all is a gigantic throne upon which sits a jolly Santa who is holding two screaming toddlers while an elf attempts to get a picture worthy of a Christmas card. 

“Owen, what are we doing here?” Carlos asks. Two men hanging around a kid-friendly area sans children is not a good look.

“I heard that Santa guy talking earlier. He doesn’t just look like Santa, he is one of the mall Santas. The scrawny guy is an elf. And I know where their green room is.” He takes a look around and then ducks under one of the candy cane striped ribbons that line the area to keep pedestrians out. “Follow my lead,” he says and then drops out of sight into a mound of cotton snow.

“Owen!” Carlos hisses, dropping to his own knees instinctually so that both of them are now hidden in the piles of fluff. “Owen what are you doing?”

“Investigating. This way,” Owen whispers over his shoulder, beckoning Carlos forward. 

He really has no choice. Owen is going to do this whether Carlos follows him or not. So Carlos crawls on his hands and knees after his father-in-law, past reindeer legs and lollipop stems, until they reach the base of the gingerbread house. 

Owen points silently toward a cutout window and, like something out of a cheesy, 90’s Christmas film, they both rise up underneath it, trying to listen and peek over the sill without being seen. 

Sure enough the Santa look alike and his scrawny elf partner are both inside. “Ugh. Only like fifteen hand sanitizers and a couple hand lotions,” the scrawny guy says, shoving merchandise into a large blue duffle bag. “Got some decent jewelry from Kendra Scott while everyone was distracted with that cell phone kiosk though.”

“I told you. We have to keep it small. Otherwise people will get suspicious. Besides, we got that laptop last week and all those clothes from Anthropologie. Those are worth a lot on resale.” Santa takes a sip from his coffee cup. “I made almost ten grand off a mall in El Paso last year. Trust me. This’ll be worth it if we can make it a couple more weeks.”

“It had better be. This elf costume itches,” the scrawny guy retorts, reaching for a red and green costume hanging from a hook on the wall.

Owen motions to Carlos and they crawl back out toward the regular part of the mall. “There you have it,” Owens says as they stand. “Proof. Let’s bust in there and arrest them.”

“You aren’t authorized to arrest anyone. And I’m off duty,” Carlos says. “There are lots of bystanders around. This isn’t a violent crime. We need to call it in first.”

“Okay, so call away.”

“I will,” Carlos says. “Keep an eye on them, let me know if they go anywhere.”

“You got it,” Owen says.

Carlos sends a mental apology to his dad. He’d been really annoyed all those times Gabriel had gotten caught up in one of Owen Strand’s schemes. But now he can see that it’s a very slippery slope and once you start sliding you can’t stop.

He places a call, explains the situation and confirms that officers will be arriving shortly. Relieved that this is almost over, he turns back to tell Owen they need to stick around until APD arrives, but Owen has vanished

Frantically Carlos scans the area, his eyes landing in horror on the line of children and parents waiting eagerly to meet Santa. Sometime in the last ten minutes their suspects have taken center stage, Santa on his throne and Scrawny taking photos. Owen is up next in line, the woman behind him eyeing him suspiciously as she holds tightly to the hand of an eager little boy in a sweater with a T-Rex wearing reindeer antlers on its head. 

Before Carlos can even move, Scrawny, now dressed in full red and green elf regalia, calls Owen forward and he marches up toward Santa’s throne. “Oh no,” Carlos whispers under his breath as he jogs over to the line. “Excuse me,” he says, trying to push toward the front.

“Hey! No cutting! Get in the back!” an irate father yells.

Another elf with a headset puts both hands out to stop Carlos from moving further. “Sir! Sir! You have to wait at the end of the line!” 

“This is official Texas Ranger business,” Carlos tells her, his heart pounding as he watches Owen step right up to their suspects.

“Right, sure it is,” she scoffs.”

“Buddy, what do you want?” Santa asks, suspicion in his voice, despite the smile on his face.

“Owen, stop!” Carlos calls desperately, pushing past the headset elf who immediately begins calling for security.

Either Owen doesn’t hear or he doesn’t care, his voice carrying over the din of the crowd. “What I want to know is, why you think it’s acceptable to use the good name of Santa Claus for criminal activity,” he says.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Santa tells him. “Ho, ho, ho, is this some kind of joke?”

“It most certainly is not a joke,” Owen says. “Santa is supposed to give gifts away, not steal them for himself.”

“Okay, get out of here,” Scrawny the elf says, marching toward him.

“I will not get out of here,” Owen says hotly. “The two of you are robbing the stores of this mall and I won’t stand for it. Not at Christmas.”

“Buddy, you knock it off right now,” Santa says, his twinkly persona dropping away as he gets to his feet.

“You don’t deserve to wear this suit,” Owen tells him, poking a finger at his chest. “We have evidence of what you’ve done. Let’s not make a scene in front of all these families. The respectable thing to do here is to calmly turn yourselves over to the authorities.”

Owen is right. That would be the respectable thing to do. But this is not a respectable Santa. 

Instead, he runs. And Owen goes after him.

“Owen! Wait!” Carlos yells, vaulting a gumdrop fence to try and get closer.

It’s too late. Owen takes a flying leap and tackles Santa into a snowbank, knocking a fake reindeer’s head off in the process as the crowd around the display gasps in shock and Run, Run Rudolph begins to blast over the speakers.

“Stop! Texas Ranger!” Carlos yells, and then ducks as Scrawny grabs a giant candy cane and swings it at his head. 

Carlos catches the candy cane in both hands and grabs on tightly. “Drop it!” he orders. 

Scrawny refuses to let go and they wrestle over it for a minute until Carlos manages to rip it out of his hands, chucking it to the side. “Get on your knees,” he says, but Scrawny is scrappy. He lunges forward and catches Carlos around the middle, sending both of them sprawling onto the floor.

Carlos grunts as he lands flat on his back, the air immediately knocked from his lungs. Scrawny takes advantage of that to deliver a devastating blow to his jaw that sends pain exploding through Carlos’ face. 

On instinct more than skill he manages to hook a leg around Scrawny and roll them both over, grabbing his wrists and pinning them to the floor. “Stop moving,” he orders between gritted teeth. “Turn over.”

“I didn’t do anything!” Scrawny yells.

“Yeah well, you can tell the officers all about that when they get here,” Carlos huffs out, shoving the man onto his front and pinning his hands behind his back. 

His assailant subdued, he looks up and find that Owen has Santa in a headlock. “Get off of me!” Santa yells.

“You, are a very bad Santa,” Owen says breathlessly as blood pools in a cut on his lip and a black eye begins blooming around his eye socket.

“He’s hurting Santa!” The yell of a small child catches Carlos’ attention and his face heats as he realizes how many onlookers are gaping at them, cellphones taking video that is likely going to break the internet at some point later today.

“Owen let him go!” Carlos calls as mall security appears in the distance, one of them cruising in on a Segway that has been decorated in red and green tinsel garland.

Owen releases Santa, both of them doubling over in pain as Carlos pulls Scrawny to his feet. The Segway security guard skids to a stop and approaches him warily. “I’m Carlos Reyes, a Major with the Texas Rangers,” Carlos tells him. “These two have been stealing from stores in the mall all day. I have APD on the way.”

“We’ve been getting reports of items missing,” the officer says. “Didn’t ever think it would be Santa and his elf though.”

“Do you have somewhere to hold these two until they get here?” Carlos asks.

“Yes, sir.”

Carlos hands off Scrawny as another two guards grab Santa and plop him down into the back of a golf cart, securing his hands with zip ties.

“Are you okay?” Carlos asks Owen. It’s hard to get the words out, his jaw aching more and more with each syllable as it begins to swell.

“He got a couple good shots in,” Owen says, swiping at the blood on his lip. “I’ve had worse though.”

“You should have let me handle it,” Carlos says.

“Sorry Carlos, I know you’re good. But you’re not good enough to take on Santa and his elf,” Owen tells him. 

Someone from mall security gets them ice and then APD finally shows up. Carlos has just finished giving his statement to an officer when EMS arrives. He groans when he sees who it is. “We’re in trouble.”

Owen follows his gaze and winces. “Oh yeah. We are.”

Tommy, Nancy, and T.K. are moving toward them and Carlos can spot the exact moment they get close enough to realize who they’re going to be helping today because all three of them freeze on the spot. T.K.’s eyes go wide and then a mixture of worry and fury crosses his face as he picks up the pace and beats his partner and his boss to their sides.

“What happened?” he demands, kneeling down and putting a hand on Carlos’ thigh.

“There was a situation that needed to be dealt with and we handled it,” Owen says and T.K. shoots him a look of fury. 

“What does that mean?” 

“It means Santa was up to no good and we stopped it,” Carlos says, suddenly feeling very tired. 

T.K. opens his mouth, but Tommy and Nancy reach them at that point and they have their own questions. “Well this is a bit of a surprise,” Tommy says, reaching for the ice that Owen is holding on his eye. “What on earth have you two been up to today?”

“Yeah Captain Strand, I thought you had worked through the anger issues,” Nancy says, attaching a pulse oximeter to Carlos’ index finger.

“This wasn’t anger. This was holiday related justice,” Owen says primly.

“More like holiday related shenanigans,” T.K. mutters under his breath, but the concerned eyes he shoots at Carlos and the steady rubbing of his hand up and down Carlos’ thigh for comfort bely that his anger is really just worry.

“Okay, both of you, tell us what hurts,” Tommy commands.

In the end they get taken to the hospital for x-rays. Owen is pronounced fine, no damage done to his eye socket, although he’ll have one hell of a black eye, and Carlos’ jaw isn’t broken, but it is badly bruised. Scrawny really packed a punch. He’s relieved when he’s finally back home in bed, T.K. fussing over the comforter and the ice pack he’s holding to his face.

“Is the ice too cold?” T.K. asks. “Are you hungry? Of course you’re hungry, it’s like eight o’clock. I’m going to make you some soup.”

Carlos has a feeling he won’t be eating solids for several days, and soup does sound good; lunch with Owen feels like weeks ago at this point. But he catches T.K.’s hand and tugs him down onto the bed instead. “In a minute,” Carlos says. “Sit with me for a bit first.”

T.K. perches on the edge a frown on his face as he brushes a hand through Carlos’ curls. “I shouldn’t have let you go with my dad today. I knew something like this would happen.”

“How could you possibly have known something like this would happen?” Carlos asks, cracking an incredulous smile and then wincing when it sends throbs of pain through his face.

“Because that’s how it always is with my dad. If there’s trouble, he’s going to find it. He’s almost gotten us killed twice. He went undercover with a white nationalist group. He bought a horse and kept it at the firehouse for weeks. It’s like he literally can’t help himself.”

“He did the right thing today though,” Carlos says. “Those guys had stolen thousands of dollars worth of stuff from the shops in the mall.”

“I know, but I wish you hadn’t been in the middle of it,” T.K. grumbles, his hand coming up to gently cup Carlos’ bruised jaw. “Did you get any shopping done? Or did you spend the entire time playing detective?”

“Oh we got some shopping done,” Carlos says. “And I tried. I really tried babe. But your dad is…”

“Stubborn? Difficult? Unpredictable?”

Carlos nods. “All of those things.”

“So? What should I look forward to getting for Christmas this year?”

“How do you feel about hats…?”

[whatsintheboxmh]

The Moodboard 3D ART Your Fic or Faves Tag Game

The Railyard

written by Jen @strandnreyes

Summary:

One dead body, seven suspects, and two undercover detectives sent in to get to the bottom of it. It shouldn’t be too difficult—TK and Carlos are used to solving murders—but when the department decides the best cover is to go in as newlywed husbands, they’re forced to face some hard truths. As the case goes on, they struggle to remember what’s real and what’s fake, and they worry the suspects’ secrets may not be the only ones that are revealed.

ty @carlos-in-glasses for starting this!

and to @strandnreyes @heartstringsduet @carlossreaders @alrightbuckaroo @herefortarlos @carlos-in-glasses

@annoyingcloudearthquake for tagging

I don't make mood boards, but I join with art♡

The rules: Either: choose one of your published fics (or a WIP if you'd prefer), create a moodboard for it and share it along with a snippet. Or: Create a moodboard for your fave episode of the show, fave character, or a fic someone else has written that you love, and share it with some sentences about why it's a fave! (And tag people!)

no pressure tag!

@lightningboltreader @lemonlyman-dotcom @eclectic-sassycoweyes

@theghostofashton @fallout-mars

@herefortarlos @honeybee-taskforce @ladytessa74

@liminalmemories21 @freneticfloetry @chicgeekgirl89

@carlos-tk @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut

@never-blooms @reyesstrand

@rmd-writes @goodways @bonheur-cafe

@alrightbuckaroo @orchidscript @welcometololaland

@strandnreyes @tinyluminaryzombie

@thisbuildinghasfeelings @paperstorm @nancys-braids

@heartstringsduet @carlos-in-glasses @tellmegoodbye

@ironheartwriter @decafdino @literateowl

@emsprovisions @sapphic--kiwi

@corsage @goodways @henrygrass @carlossreaders

@carlos-tk @alrightbuckaroo @carlos-in-glasses

@orchidscript @the-126-family

@everlastingday @annoyingcloudearthquake

[nisbanisba]

Good morning mis amores and happy WIP Wednesday! Have some more Buttercup fluff 💕🐾

Buttercup has to be shut out of the bedroom so TK can show Carlos how much he’d missed him the previous night. Carlos’s self-appointed bodyguard flops to the floor two inches from the door with a huff, a sulky shag throw rug, eyeing TK reproachfully as TK shuts the door again. “Don’t hate me, buddy,” TK cajoles. “You’re just a little baby. You shouldn’t see this.”

“Also, I’m still traumatized from that time he licked my toes while I was inside you,” Carlos grimaces from where he’s reclined topless on the bed, his erection straining at the zipper of his unbuttoned jeans.

“Hey, it could have been worse, it could have been–”

“Do not finish that sentence,” Carlos commands. “Come here.”

“Yes, sir.”

Carlos is already drifting off, sated, when TK opens the door again to slip to the bathroom for a damp cloth. Buttercup nearly falls through the doorway. In the two seconds that TK is gone, he makes himself completely comfortable on TK’s side of the bed. When TK returns, Carlos is murmuring to Buttercup, his voice hoarse from their activities, and rubbing the dog’s ears. “Who has a smooshy face? It’s you. You have the smooshiest face. How’d you get so smooshy? What is your secret, buddy?”

“Aw, honey, you used to say I had the smooshiest face,” TK mourns, clutching his chest. “Is the magic gone already? You’re trading me in for a younger, smooshier model?”

Carlos looks embarrassed at being caught for a split second before he leans back, a hand behind his head, and leers at TK. “C’mere, baby, we’ll do a side by side smooshiness comparison.”

No pressure tags-

@rmd-writes @thisbuildinghasfeelings @bonheur-cafe @liminalmemories21 @strandnreyes

@reyesstrand @sunshineacd @theghostofashton @ironheartwriter @emsprovisions

@cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @carlos-in-glasses @heartstringsduet @corsage @lemonlyman-dotcom

@ladytessa74 @three-drink-amy @butchreyes @decafdino @never-blooms

@sugdenlovesdingle @freneticfloetry @whatsintheboxmh @eclectic-sassycoweyes @herefortarlos

@alrightbuckaroo @tellmegoodbye @chicgeekgirl89 @lightningboltreader @captain-gillian

@nancys-braids @pimento-playing-hopscotch @goodways @literateowl @carlos-tk @welcometolalaland @henrygrass

[heartstringsduet]

Happy Sunday <3 Back to writing this monster of a story and hoping it will be finished before TK's birthday episode.

When Enzo first met Gwyn, she made no secret about being a mother to a nine-year-old boy. ‘He’s a wonderful child,’ she said before Enzo first met her and TK at a candy store, knowing it would make his introduction easier with a sugary buffer. ‘And he loves everyone instantly. Don’t worry.’ She was right, Enzo realized. TK loved everyone. The shop owner, the pincher dog a family had brought with them, the customers reaching for the same stuff he told all about why it was his favorite candy too. He decidedly did not like Enzo. He wouldn’t even look at him, or answer any of his questions. For the first time in his life, Enzo got a lesson of being invisible. Nothing helped, no baseball game, no zoo trips, no toys. TK was a whirlwind that stopped  right at Enzo, turning still and inward.

OPEN TAG &

@henrygrass @paperstorm @eclectic-sassycoweyes

@alrightbuckaroo @carlos-in-glasses @carlos-tk

@theghostofashton @strandnreyes @strandnreyes

@reyesstrand @welcometololaland @rmd-writes

@lightningboltreader @butchreyes @ameriicansrequiems

@lemonlyman-dotcom @ladytessa74 @corsage

@certifiedflower @nisbanisba @orchidscript @liminalmemories21

@never-blooms @freneticfloetry @nancys-braids @pimento-playing-hopscotch

@irispurpurea @kiwichaeng @bonheur-cafe @decafdino

@carlossreaders @honeybee-taskforce @chicgeekgirl89

@ironheartwriter @emsprovisions @tellmegoodbye @literateowl

[paperstorm]

Thanks for the tags @thisbuildinghasfeelings and @heartstringsduet!

He plops down onto his couch, setting the guitar in his lap and reaching for his notebook, laying open and facedown on the side table. Swallowing thickly and breathing slow, Carlos flips to the page he’d turned quickly away from yesterday afternoon in Judd and Grace’s backyard. He unhooks the pen from the cover and scribbles on the page, letting the words flow out of him like water spilling from his fingertips. This song has been in the back of his mind for a while, but Carlos hasn’t been able to pin it down – hasn’t wanted to pin it down. But it overtakes him, whether or not he means for it to, and he doesn’t hide from it this time.

Putting the notebook down, Carlos strums a chord out of the guitar strings, humming to himself and then softly singing, “Your poker face ain’t foolin’ nobody here, nobody here, we’ve all felt the flame and shed those same tears.”

He pauses, turning the phrase over in his head. He grabs for the notebook again, leaning over awkwardly to cross out a few words and replace them with others.

The melody takes shape in his head, after a few false starts. “Feel the weight of your father’s ring, and all those dreams, and all those dreams,” he sings, repeating the line until he likes the tune of it.

Carlos plays, letting his fingers dance over stiff guitar strings, filling up the empty space of his living room with music. He’s never alone when he’s playing, or when he’s listening to a song that stirs something important inside him. He’s spent so much of his life terrified of so many things. That he’ll never be enough to please his father, that the man will go to his deathbed regretting he wasn’t given a better son. That he won’t make it as a musician. That his biggest secret, the one only Grace knows, will burn down everything he’s worked for if it ever got out and turn the deadbolt on a door with him on one side and his family on the other. But music is the one and only thing that’s never let him down, that’s never left him alone, that wraps around him like a blanket no matter what else is happening.

“‘Cause that was the real you, running through the fields of gold wide open, standing in the places no picture contains … And that was the real you sayin’ ‘maybe I’m not too young to be a cowboy’ …”

Carlos stops. He lets the music trail away, fingers falling off the strings. He sniffs, closing his eyes against the sting for a moment and then setting his guitar down onto the couch beside him. He was meant for this, Carlos reminds himself, frustratedly brushing an errant tear off his cheek. If his parents don’t believe in him yet, he’ll just have to keep proving himself until they do.

Tagging @theghostofashton @birdclowns @reyesstrand @strandnreyes @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut

@carlos-in-glasses @actual-sleeping-beauty @thisbuildinghasfeelings @herefortarlos @heartstringduet

@goodways @alrightbuckaroo @lightningboltreader @freneticfloetry

@liminalmemories21 @nancys-braids @whatsintheboxmh @bonheur-cafe

@reasonandfaithinharmony @thebumblecee @never-blooms @lemonlyman-dotcom

@sanjuwrites @orchidscript @jesuisici33 @kiwichaeng @honeybee-taskforce

@fifthrideroftheapocalypse @butchreyes @just-inside-her @firstprince-history-huh @captain-gillian

@tellmegoodbye @anactualcaseofthetruth @ironheartwriter @eclectic-sassycoweyes @ditheringmind

@emsprovisions @irispurpurea @nisbanisba @corsage @chicgeekgirl89

@carlossreaders @ladytessa74

Want to be added or removed from the list? Lmk

[carlos-in-glasses]

Thank you the tags @nisbanisba @heartstringsduet @welcometololaland

@henrygrass @annoyingcloudearthquake @carlossreaders 🩷

This is from Of Your Kiss and Your Warm Embrace - posted today here on Ao3 as part of the Tarlos Secret Cupid Exchange 2025 (7k, E)

Carlos gets the door open and scoops his arms around TK’s waist, dragging his rain-soaked body against his own as they stumble their way in the dark. Carlos hits the lights, again with a flinging elbow, and they end up collapsing in a kissing heap onto the staircase. In some ways, the staircase seems to be a perfect place for them to do this, neither here nor there, up nor down. Just somewhere in the structured middle of all these wide-open feelings that TK can’t name, like he can’t name all the art in the world or all the flowers or the stars.

“What do you want to do?” Carlos asks into TK’s neck.

“You can do anything to me,” TK blurts. The answer pushes out of his mouth like air, easy as a hello, as if this is the most natural thing he ever could have said to Carlos.

Open tag and tags below!:

@paperstorm @thisbuildinghasfeelings @goodways

@reyesstrand @strandnreyes

@lightningboltreader @bonheur-cafe @alrightbuckaroo

@cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @orchidscript @freneticfloetry

@chicgeekgirl89 @honeybee-taskforce @theghostofashton

@herefortarlos @lemonlyman-dotcom @ladytessa74 @liminalmemories21

@rmd-writes @no-goodbyes-no-regrets @carlos-tk

@pimento-playing-hopscotch @eclectic-sassycoweyes

@kiwichaeng @literateowl @butchreyes @hereghostslive

@captain-gillian @laelipoo @nancys-braids @ironheartwriter

@tellmegoodbye @sapphic--kiwi @emsprovisions

@anactualcaseofthetruth @the-126-family @henrygrass

@everlastingday @futures-tense @rangersoup @butch-buckley - If you want to share/haven't already! No pressure ever! ❤️🩷🧡💛💚💙🩵💜

[everlastingday]

happy new year everyone! 🎉 here's a little snippet from the survivor au!

thank you @carlos-in-glasses, @henrygrass, @whatsintheboxmh, @carlossreaders, @heartstringsduet, @futures-tense, and @lemonlyman-dotcom for the tags! 💜

--

He shares a small boat with six other people. Three older people, around his father’s age, and three other people who look to be around his age. Across the water, he can see an identical boat with seven other players. He hasn’t met them yet, but he knows at least one of them – his father and captain, Owen Strand. 

When TK found out that both his and his dad made it through casting, he was excited at the prospect of playing this game together, but also afraid of how their relationship would naturally put a target on both their backs. Before leaving New York, he had given his dad a whole lecture about how they have to keep their relationship under wraps for as long as possible, but knowing his dad, he’s not sure how long they’re going to be able to keep it a secret. In any case, although he’s disappointed they’re on different tribes, he ultimately thinks this is going to be better for his game. 

He studies his tribemates a little more intently. TK knows that in a season full of other first responders, he probably isn’t going to be the most physically adept, despite being a dual-certified firefighter and paramedic. On any other season, he’d probably have excelled at playing a physical game, but this season was a different ball-game. He’s going to have to play a very different game than what he’s always imagined himself playing, and the uncertainty both excites and scares him. 

He eyes the man sitting across from him. For a lack of a better phrase, the guy is hot. Dark brown curls, and warm brown eyes framed by a set of eyelashes so luscious that they looked fake. And based on the muscle definition that’s peeking through his muted red t-shirt, TK has no doubt that this guy is going to be a physical threat. 

Nobody says a word the entire ride over to the island where the game will begin. By the time he steps off and his feet hit solid ground, all his nerves fade away, and he feels the adrenaline kick in. Game on.

--

open tag & no-pressure tagging a few people under the cut!

@nancys-braids @welcometololaland @reyesstrand @thisbuildinghasfeelings

@captain-gillian @bonheur-cafe @lightningboltreader @eclectic-sassycoweyes

@firstprince-history-huh @nisbanisba @emsprovisions @paperstorm

let me know if you want to be added/removed, and please feel free to tag me as well, i love seeing what everyone else is working on! 💜