#brunettes carry tumblr on their backs

[enginedrivermp3]

brunettes on here will make a post like "just committed murder but i got away with it because i'm a brunette <3" and it will get like ten thousand notes and all of the reblogs will be by other brunettes who tag it #sooo true

[lordprettyflackotara]

hitchhiker || chapter two || the proxies

tw: mentions of murder, brief descriptions of gore

a/n: i’ve gotten a lot of love for this series and i just wanted to say thank you!! as a tribute of my appreciation i present a question: would you guys prefer this story on another platform ADDITIONAL to tumblr? i’ve gotten a few ask. i’m not familiar with ao3 but id like to learn if yall want it :)<3

<— chapter one

You had Toby absolutely mesmerized.

He swallowed nervously as he sat beside you in the diner’s booth. Brian had specifically requested the booth farthest away from everyone else. He sought out privacy, even when you curiously arched an eyebrow when he informed the waitress of his request.

Toby couldn’t help but admire your figure, your curves begging to be acknowledged in that slimming white dress of yours. The sight borderline made his mouth water. Toby shifted uncomfortably in his seat, refraining from anxiously chewing on the inside of his mouth. This would be the first time in years he would be eating in public. Usually he was never concerned with his appearance. That was until he met you.

Now he was slouched in a booth at a diner, a large bandage tightly secured to the decaying side of his face. You were kind enough to not stare, Toby only having noticed your eyes flickering to it once. You hadn’t question his ghoul gray skin or bandage. You didn’t stare at him like he was a freak. You just carried on the conversation like he was a normal person like Tim and Brian. He glanced over at Tim and Brian, his leg bouncing up and down under the table.

The four of you had been served glasses of water, the waitress apologizing and ushering to a different table. You began to unwrap a straw, before putting it into your glass.

“So, what do you guys do for work?”

The question almost made Brian spit out his drink. Tim elbowed his partner. “We’re private consultants,” He replied casually. You sipped your water, grabbing the lemon off of the rim. “Private consultants for what?” You asked, squeezing the juice into your water. Toby watched Brian and Tim carefully, both of them tongue tied. “K-kind of like detective-es. Just without the license,” Toby answered. He hoped you hadn’t noticed how shaky his hand was as he grabbed his glass. He didn’t bother with a straw, carelessly gulping down the water.

“Detectives? Thats nice. Hired by a private client I assume? One that’s behind the scenes,” You suggest. Toby exchanged looks with Tim, giving him a slight nod to suggest they go along with your explanation. “Yeah victims families sometimes aren’t satisfied with the police’s answer for disappearances or murders. They hire people like us to do some of our own investigating,” Tim replied. He hadn’t touched his water. The waitress returned, a small notebook in hand.

“What will you all have to drink?”

Tim gestured for you to go first.

“I’ll have a coke, thank you.”

You looked over at Toby, whose leg was bouncing under the table at a million miles per hour.

“Dr Pepper i-if you have it.”

The waitress gave a confirming nod, looking over at Brian.

“I’ll just stick with water.”

She nodded, her gaze landing on Tim.

“I’ll just have black coffee, thanks.”

Once she left, you were eager to resume the conversation. “Must be exciting work, traveling all of the time. I assume it’s all paid right? Like traveling fees and food,” You say. Toby couldn’t help but feel nervous around you, the brunette forcing himself to join the conversation. “Y-yeah it’s p-pretty nice,” He replied. He felt his neck begin to twitch, Brian’s eyes shooting daggers at him across the table. “You guys should meet my best friend Nova. She just became the lead detective around here,” You suggested. Tim exchanged glances with Brian. Toby clutched his cup, practically reading their thoughts.

They finally had justification for keeping you around.

The waitress came back, setting the drinks on the table. She clicked her pen as she brought out her notepad from the apron, the sound making Toby’s left arm twitch. “What will you have?” She asked you. You glanced at the menu, clearing your throat. Oddly enough it felt weird having all three of their eyes on you, watching you intently. “I’ll have the barbecue burger with fries, thanks,” You tell her. She took the menu from your hands, looking over at Toby. “I’ll have the same but with two burgers instead of one,” Toby said, giving her a small smile. The waitresses eyebrows raised, but she scribbled it onto her notepad without comment.

Her eyes landed on Brian, who hadn’t glanced at the menu. “I’ll take a veggie burger with no tomato, thank you,” He said simply, handing the waitress the menu. She turned to Tim, who was quick to dismiss her. “Just coffee for me,” He told her. Your eyebrows furrowed as the waitress walked away. You wanted to questions Tim’s denial of food, Toby quick to cut you off. It was far too risky to have you aware of his crippling insomnia. “So what d-do you do for wor-rk?” He asked you. You grinned shyly, hoping the heat that was dashing across your cheeks wasn’t visible. It was.

“It’s a bit silly but I want to be an actress. I’ve always dreamed of being up on the big screen,” You admitted, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. Tim sipped his coffee, listening intently. “For now though I work at Olive Garden. Just until I get my big break,” You finished. Toby stared at you in awe. He thought you deserved to be in every movie ever. Including the x rated ones. “You’ll be in Hollywood in no tim-me,” Toby told you, flashing you a big smile. His words provided you relief, Brian’s judgment written across his face. You could tell he didn’t want to be there. You returned Toby’s smile before turning back to Tim.

You had said something, Toby’s sight able to see your lips moving. But his hearing went dull, the diners lights flickering. He set his cup down on the table, trying to count his breathes. One. Two. Inhale. Exhale. This wasn’t real, right? It couldn’t be real. The Operator wouldn’t sought them out here, in such a public place. Right? His gaze landed past Brian, past the heads of the few other people left in the diner. Clear as day in the window, Toby saw a face. Or better said, a mask. He blinked and his breath became shallow as he took in the observers appearance.

Mangled jet black hair, now grown out past her shoulders. A snow white mask with black eyes stared back at Toby through the window, her eyes ominously hidden. Toby would recognize the faded white walmart jacket from anywhere.

What the fuck was Kate doing here?

Toby’s attention came back to the table as the waitress arrived, setting their food in front of them. He looked back at the window, Kate now gone. “You good Tob?” You asked. The brunette turned to look at you, silently shocked you cared. He nodded, giving you a weak smile. “F-fine just thought I saw something,” He replied. Toby shot Brian and Tim a look, one both of them were oblivious to. Did they not see the flickering lights? Brian was too invested in his food, while Tim’s attention was completely focused on you. Toby quietly picked up his burger, taking a bite. Man, you had good taste.

Toby was aware he was schizophrenic. He knew that when his mind went a little too into overdrive he’d see things that weren’t there. Over the years he had grown accustomed to it, making significant progress from his first year with the Operator. Sometimes he’d see his parents or Lyra. If he was in a bad episode he’d even be able to convince himself he was touching Lyra. Like she was really there. He hadn’t seen Lyra or his parents in years. Nor had he seen Kate in at least a year.

Kate the Chaser was a fellow proxy, who spent most of her missions alone. She was quiet and mysterious, never saying too much. As you continued to talk to Tim and Brian, Toby’s mind began to wander. Why was she here? He didn’t show any other signs of being in an episode. The colors in the diner were the same, no strange voices were whispering in his ears. Toby took another bite of his burger, his mind continuing to rack itself for an answer. Kate only came around for one of two reasons. 1. She was doing a favor for one of the Operators brothers or 2. She was there to check on the status of a mission. If it was option two, the three of them were fucked.

“What do you think Toby?” You asked. Your sweet voice snapped him out of his thoughts. “I’m sorry what?” He asked meekly. You pointed at his burger. “About the burger? It’s my favorite. They always have apple bacon,” You say. You were so peacefully oblivious, Toby’s scrambled mind feeling like it was glitching. “Very good, love b-barbecue,” He answered. He gave you a weak smile, dipping a fry into some ketchup. “So what’s your family like? They live out here as well?” Brian asked. Toby couldn’t help but feel unsettled, like they were being watched. Out of the three of them Toby was the least prone to excessive paranoia, but right now he felt like it was all too real.

“No I moved away from home. Originally I wanted to go to New York but I ended up here along the way. It’s the closest I can afford to the big city. Besides it’s not too far away,” You say, shrugging. Considering they were in Ohio, Toby concluded this to not be true. However you seemed to be trying to play off your own insecurities and Toby was determined to play along. “Where are you guys from?” You asked, sipping your coke. The lights in the diner flickered again. Toby’s eyes narrowed. “Alabama, nothing special,” Tim answered, earning a kick from Brian under the table. You took another bit of your burger, the sound of faint static flooding your eardrums. Your new friends didn’t seem to hear it, the three of them unnerved.

You decided to try to ignore it, a slight pounding sensation ensuing in your temple. You had no idea the other three heard it as well, four hundred times worse. Toby watched Tim’s head begin to pound, his adam’s apple swallowing as he tried to endure the headache. His gaze flickered over to Brian, his head twitching to the left. “Oh shit,” Toby muttered, dropping his fry. He grabbed the nearby steak knife, watching as Masky and Hoodie nonchalantly began to front. You looked over at Toby, who was shaking as he clutched the black handle of the knife. He was ready to defend your life with his own and a shitty steak knife.

“Tob? You alright?” You asked, eyes widening at the sight of the knife. Toby watched Masky and Hoodie carefully, waiting for them to attack. It was getting late, the four of them the only ones left in the diner. It wouldn’t be hard to kill you and the only waitress left. But you were so kind. So pleasant to be around. Plus, you smelled good. Masky frowned at the sight of you. If he could’ve had it his way he would’ve followed you home, disposing your body in a rancid dumpster. But he knew his place, the Operators request of his presence coming first. Masky dug in his pocket, Toby’s gaze darkening. He placed a wad of cash on the table, sliding out of the booth. “We have something we have to take care of. Why don’t you walk her home Toby?” Masky suggested blandly. Hoodie followed suit, hands dug in his jeans as he trailed after Masky. Hoodie’s lips curled into a cocky smirk, shamelessly checking you out. The duo left the diner quickly, leaving you and Toby dumbfounded.

“Are they bipolar or something?” You asked. Toby released the knife, trying to ignore your bewildered expression. A flash of white ran across the window, Kate’s presence confirmed. “S-something like that-t. Let’s get you home,” Toby suggested nervously. He ushered you out of the diner, anxiously looking around. He couldn’t spot Masky or Hoodie anywhere, nor Kate or the Operator. He sighed in relief, the cold night wind brutal. “I live down this way,” You say, pointing to down town. You wanted to question Tim and Brian’s odd behavior, but ultimately decided against it. Toby walked beside you, the orange street lights illuminating the path. He tried to be quiet, trying to uncover what they did wrong in his mind.

The cold didn’t bother him, but his eyes flickered over to you. You were a shivering mess, goosebumps littering your smooth skin. “H-here. Might n-not smell the best,” He said quickly. He slid off his signature hoodie, handing it to you. “But you’ll be cold,” You pointed out. Toby shook his head. “I don’t get cold-d. Here,” He insisted. Hesitantly you accepted Toby’s hoodie, sliding it on. It smelled like dirt, cologne, and a metallic scent you couldn’t place. “Thank you Toby,” You say, giving him a grin. Toby thought back to the dismemberment of the body. He followed the usual routine. Depending on the victim there were two possible routines.

One being what they called mystery. Toby would extract the teeth, slicing fingerprints and toes off of the victim. Next he’d scoop out the eyes, before slicing out the tongue. After that he’d cut off the head. He’d distribute the fingertips, toes, teeth, eyes, and head to Masky and Hoodie. The three would divide them up evenly, before going their own ways for the night to discard of the evidence. Toby had an all too familiar lake he preferred to dispose his in. The alligators there were practically his friends by now.

The other method, one Toby named chop chop. Or chop for short. His axe skills were utilized, each leg and arm, and of course the head, cut apart limb from limb. This method was recommended when the victim had been attacked from the front. The more raw mushy organs on display, the more likely the wolves would get to the body before a human did. As for the body parts, the proxies had been using barrels full of acid. It was a grueling process, but they were able to bury them in the forest without a long drive to discard of them.

For detective Winston, they had opted to use route two. Chop was quicker. Of course they used chop, wanting to see you as quickly as possible. That’s when it finally hit Toby: Hoodie had slashed his throat. His chest cavity and organs were intact. He was a detective in the force for years. He had a chest tattoo. Thats why the Operator sent Kate. The body had been discovered and identified.

“I know this isn’t the best part of town but it’s all I can afford right now,” You say. Toby snapped out of his thoughts, turning his attention back to you. You had taken his silent pondering as judgment. “I’ve slept in trees before, i’m sure y-your apartment is l-lovel-ly,” Toby told you. You subtly began to walk closer to him, purple neon signs illuminating the rest of the pathway. “It’s not normal I know but i’ve always wanted a tattoo from that shop,” You told him, pointing at ‘Ray’s tattoos’. Toby examined the shop, his eyes scanning over the multiple people getting tatted. He made eye contact with what appeared to be a biker, his gaze returning to you.

“H-how about I go w-with you sometime? I d-don’t have one,” He admitted. You gave him a sheepish smile. “I have one but it’s kinda embarrassing,” You confessed. Toby chuckled, following you into your apartment building. “C-can’t be that bad,” Toby replied. He trailed behind you as you entered the elevator, clicking the button to the fourth floor. “Promise you won’t tell Tim and Brian?” You asked. Toby nodded, preparing himself to see whatever exposure of skin you were going to provide him. Instead you leaned close to him, whispering into his ear, “I have a tramp stamp.”

Toby felt a shiver of ecstasy run down his spine, soaking in the sensation of your hot breath. “O-oh wow,” He blushed. You giggled as the elevator doors opened, walking to your apartment. You stood in front of door 401, turning to Toby. “I really do like you guys you know. Despite their social awkwardness, it’s nice seeing some new faces around here,” You say. Toby could hardly get enough of your praise, his imagination now playing with the idea of your tramp stamp. “T-thank you. We like-e you too,” He said. You gave him a small smile. “I don’t think Brian likes me,” You told him honestly. Toby pretended to play dumb. “Pfft, B-Brian’s just a l-loner. He didn’t like m-me either at first,” He replied. Which, was technically true.

You bit your bottom lip, your eyes flickering to your apartment door. You grabbed your keys, unlocking it. You were about to invite Toby in, the invitation on your lips. Just as you opened your mouth, Nova appeared in front of you. You jumped in surprise. “Nova? Holy shit what are you doing here?” You questioned. You had given Nova your key ages ago for emergencies. There she stood in her pajamas, a file in hand. Toby frowned at the sight of Nova. Why was she there? He wanted time alone with you. Why couldn’t he have you to himself for the night? “I’m sorry I know you were on your date but something new just happened in my case!” She said excitedly. Date? The word date made Toby’s heart flutter. His annoyance of Nova’s presence had temporarily subsided. Her chocolate orbs flickered over to Toby.

“Who’s this?”

You awkwardly turned to Toby. “Oh shit sorry, uh, Toby this is Nova, Nova this is Toby,” You say, introducing the two. Nova stuck out her hand, an apple watch secured on her wrist. “So you’re the hitchhiker,” She mused. Toby could sense her protectiveness of you. “And you’re the detective,” He replied, shaking her hand. The two of them purposefully gave the other a tight squeeze before Nova pulled away. “Alrighty then. Well i’d like to discuss this case with you before dawn,” Nova said, gesturing to the file.

“Of course of course,” You say awkwardly. You turned to Toby. “Here let me give you back your hoodie,” You said. Your fingers began to grab at the hem, Toby’s larger hand stopping you. You hadn’t realized bandages covered a majority of his hands until then. “Keep i-it. I’ll come get it from you late-er,” He told you. You could feel heat dash across your cheeks from his touch. You stood on your tippy toes, planting a soft kiss to his cheek.

“Thank you Toby. I’ll see you soon?”

Toby nodded affirmatively, wishing you a goodnight.

He shoved his hands in his jeans as he walked down the hallway, grinning to himself. You’d be seeing him a lot sooner than you thought.

—> next chapter

[inuyashaluver]

would you ever write a jessie fleming x reader fic??? love ur work you carry woso tumblr

something more - jessie fleming

jessie fleming x reader

description: in which you’ve always wanted more out of your friendship with jessie, but maybe she’s willing to give that to you

warnings: kinda lonnggg

a/n: hiya! thanks for the request, also that’s the nicest thing ever, i did tear up at that literally thank you so much, the woso tumblr writers are truly phenomenal, enjoy!❤️

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you and your best friend, jessie fleming met during a friendly match between your national teams, canada and england. when you saw her for the first time, you have to admit, you thought she was beautiful. you were both midfielders, marking each other the whole game, you couldn’t help but flush a little red when she placed a hand on your lower back when you had the ball. good thing the air was cold.

england had won, you walked around to shake the hands of the canadian players when you felt a hand on your shoulder. “hey, (y/n) right?” you turn and face none other than jessie, your mouth slightly hangs open as she gives you a shy smile. “uh yeah! nice to meet you” she extends her hand for a handshake and you return it, her hands were so soft, you were star struck.

“well (y/n), good game, i hope to see you around” her smile never drops, her face is slightly red, she must be cold (nope). “yeah, you too, jessie” you smile at her and she waves goodbye at you. you watch her leave, her teammates teasing and shoving her. you tilt your head to the side, what was that reaction?

you turn to see majority of your team smiling at you, “what” you say, “nothing, nothing” leah says with a smirk, “alright girls, let’s get out of here” she comes up to you, putting a hand over her mouth as she whispers in your ear, “those pink cheeks aren’t fooling anyone, love” you shove her off you and run away, everyone laughing at your reaction.

—

you were signed to chelsea, you guys had training and were doing some light stretching for a warm up. you were doing partner stretches with your national teammate, niamh. you were helping her stretch when all of a sudden, a certain brunette walks through the door in a chelsea training kit, you drop niamh’s leg and she protests before following to where your eyes were.

your mouth was slightly agape, niamh hurriedly stood next to you and shut your mouth for you. “so she’s the new signing” niamh pointed out, looking at you worriedly because you hadn’t said anything. “how?” you breathe out, “well, my friend, she gets called by management and then comes here to sign a contract and boom! she’s here!” she mocks and laughs when you lightly slap her arm.

jessie was getting talked to by a member of staff when she makes eye contact with you. she smiles brightly and nods her head with a small wave. you smile back at her with a little wave, looking away when niamh was teasing you in the corner.

she quickly disperses when she sees jessie smiling and walking up to you.

“hey, (y/n)!” jessie pulls you into a tight hug, you hesitantly wrap your arms around her waist. “hey, jessie! nice to see you again” she pulls away from you, a bright smile spread on her face. “i didn’t know you were coming to chelsea” you say with a shy smile, “do you not want me here or something?” she remarks with a smirk.

“no no i do! i’m very happy you’re here!” you quickly grab her arm and she looks down at it, smiling, you let go thinking she was uncomfortable, missing her frown when you let go.

“i’m very happy you’re here too” she says shyly, you both smile at each other till you both get called for drills.

you partner up for drills, you can’t ignore the fact that jessie is extremely touchy with you. whether it was holding your arm, your hand or slinging an arm over your shoulder. you can’t help but lean into it every time, the affection feeling so natural and familiar to both of you.

the more you interacted with each other, the more you realised you had in common. she fit into the team well, but you couldn’t help but notice she didn’t interact with the others the way she did with you. sure she was extremely friendly, but she didn’t touch the others like she did with you, or talk to the others the way she did with you. you can’t help but wonder, maybe she felt somewhat the same? (obviously)

—

as the months turn into years, the two of you grow closer and closer. going out for lunches, buying each other little gifts, always partnering up during training, being the first to celebrate with on the pitch. you two had truly become best friends.

one day you were at training, absolutely exhausted, lying on the floor after a gruelling session. jessie comes and lies next to you, she places an arm under your head acting as a pillow, grinning when you lean into her more, sighing contemptly.

“what’s the plan now, (y/n/n)?” you move your head to look up at her to find she was already looking at you. “movie at mine?” you question, jessie immediately agreeing and pulling the both of you to stand up, slinging her arm over your shoulder while walking you to the change room.

niamh snickers when she sees you two sitting in your cubby, chatting. niamh sneaking a photo of the two of you and sending it to the lioness group chat - which you were in by the way!

“our little (y/n) is in love!” she texts under the photo, replies coming through quickly: “get it girlie!”, “holy shit”, “a canadian (y/n)? we could’ve gotten you a nice brit” you look at your phone and flush red, looking up at niamh across from you and flipping her off.

“you okay, babe?” jessie questions your frown, you nod your head at her with a smile, “yeah, let’s go now!” you quickly haul her up and shove her out the door, turning to niamh again, “you’re a little shit” you point your finger at her. she laughs brightly at you, waving at you and blowing you a kiss, “i love you!” niamh screams after you

—

you get to your house, jessie knew this place all too well, coming over nearly every day. you sat on one end of the couch while jessie lay her head in your lap. you were flicking through the movies trying to pick one to watch, jessie being no help, closing her eyes and sinking into your lap and couch.

you slot a hand through her hair and she hums at the contact, flipping over and nuzzling her head into your stomach, wrapping her arms around your torso and holding you close together. you embarrassingly let out a little squeak feeling her mouth graze your exposed skin where your shirt had ridden up. you can feel her grin into your stomach and you freeze when you feel her hand dip into the back of your shirt to trace light shapes with her finger on your lower back.

you were about to say something when you hear jessie’s phone ping on the coffee table. “read that for me?” she mumbles into your skin, groaning when you slightly lean forward to grab her phone. you freeze again, her wallpaper sending shivers down your spine, your mouth went dry.

her wallpaper was a candid photo of you wearing one of jessie’s hoodies when you got cold, her name “fleming” plastered on the front emblem over your heart and the back. you had such a happy smile on your face, pink cheeks evident on your face.

“babe?” she slightly pulls away from you, looking up at your shocked face, “you okay?” she questions, now removing herself from you and sitting up properly, holding your hand tightly. she only looks at your face until she sees what you’re looking at, her wallpaper.

“oh!” she starts worriedly, “sorry if that makes you uncomfortable, it’s just such a cute picture” she smiles sheepishly, going to let go of your hand but you hold her hand tighter.

all you could do was shake your head and look at her with blown out pupils. you quickly take out your phone out of your pocket and show your own wallpaper, a picture of her lifting you up in celebration as you hug her tightly. she grabs your phone from you and blushes as she inspects the photo, finally picking up the courage to look you in the eye.

“hi” you breathe out and she laughs brightly, “hey, beautiful” she returns with a grin. placing a gentle hand on your knee and absentmindedly running her thumb over it. “what are you thinking about, baby?” she questions, smiling at you encouragingly. “um” you breathe out shakily, gripping onto her hand tighter. “you” you swallow. she smiles at you, “oh yeah? what about me?” she whispers lowly, smirking at your flustered expression. you open your mouth to say something but nothing comes out.

“come on, baby, you can say it” she was always the one making the first move, wanting you to take over this time. she squeezes your lower thigh, giggling when you tense up. you avert your eyes from her, looking down at the coffee table, she ducks her head to follow your eyes and you instantly burn up.

“jessie” you start, “yeah, baby” she moves closer to you, nodding her head. “i like you” her eyes brighten and she smiles excitedly, “i like you too, ever since the friendly match, baby girl” you lightly shove her, “i told the girls before that i thought you were beautiful and they told me to make a move”

you decide to make a bold move and straddle her lap, she happily welcomes you and holds onto your hips, you were both completely flushed. “i was crushing on you majorly, fleming” she lightly pinches your waist, “i was more” she mocks, you shake your head at her with a grin, you move to whisper in her ear, “the lioness group chat is full of me and you, baby, everyone has been waiting for this” your lips lightly graze her ear and she grips your hips tighter, “you should see the canada one, baby” you both let out a laugh together, looking into each other’s eyes softly.

jessie’s eyes flicker between your own, occasionally falling to your lips. “can i kiss you, (y/n)?” giggling when you nod your head eagerly, she places a hand on your cheek and smiles at you again, leaning forward to place a soft kiss on your lips. suddenly feeling confident, you grab the back of her head and deepen the kiss by prodding your tongue on her bottom lip, your tongue moving with hers harmoniously. a small groan from the back of her throat comes out when you scratch her scalp with your nails, you whine into her mouth with a grin before pulling away from her.

you pull away breathlessly, tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear with a soft smile. you held the sides of her neck with both of your hands and place a soft peck on her lips. she smiles up at you and pulls the back of your head down to return the favour.

“you’re so pretty” she nuzzles her nose with yours. you wrap your arms around her neck and pull her into a hug. “you’re so pretty” you say, squirming when you feel her place a kiss on your neck.

—

when you come into training the next day holding each other’s hands, the girls cheer for you and jessie holds your hand up victoriously. niamh comes up and steals you away, lifting you up and running around the field. “hell yeah, (y/n/n)! proud of you!” you laugh brightly when she places you on the ground. “we’ve gotta find someone for you now, missy” you say cheekily and chase her around the field, you stop when she holds up a water bottle threateningly, you run and hop on jessie’s back.

“save me, baby!” she holds onto your thighs and runs from niamh, niamh seeing your matching smiles leaves you both alone when she sees you having so much fun.

you stay on jessie’s back during the team talk, your arms wrapped around her neck, occasionally whispering in her ear and joking around with each other. both of you were so happy, mainly both of your friends who had seen you pining over each other for so long.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

liked by niamhcharles17 and 44,232 others

_jessflem: oh, we’re dating btw @/yourname

view all comments

yourname: my baby ❤️

↳ _jessflem: no MY baby

lionesses: finally!!

↳ canadasoccer: finally!!!!

niamhcharles17: finally

leahwilliamsonn: finally

yourname: i will block all of you

↳ _jessflem: ditto, baby

[thatmexisaurusrex]

A Dragon and His Knight

Hey, people! Here's a fic I've been thinking about doing for a while and is loosely based off this spiel I made on tumblr. Idk how many of y'all wanted a fantasy au, but here's one! I hope y'all enjoy the fic! 🥰

background from here.

A Dragon and His Knight

| Pairing: BuckTommy | Rated: M | WC: 38.8K | Chapters: 9/9 |

Summary: When Evan "Buck" Buckley gets word that his sister, Maddie, is going to run away from her abusive husband, a baron of another land, he gathers a group of people to set out to find her. Tommy never expected to do much else other than protect the realm he was magically tied to. That was, until a handsome man pleads for Tommy to help him save his sister.

Excerpt:

“He can’t possibly be a dragon,” blurted the dirty blond man, pointing at Tommy. Oh. So, this man was the one who spoke before. The dirty blond. “I mean, his eyes are kind of reptilian. They do that slit thing,” said the other new guy, “Not that it looks bad or anything. It’s a good look for you.” The brunette. Gave Tommy. A thumbs up. Tommy. Gave a thumbs up back? “Thank you?” said Tommy, a little confused. The dirty blond seemed to look between Tommy and the brunette, stepping slightly between the two so that he was a little closer to Tommy before saying, “You’re human-sized. Even if you’re a dragon, how would you carry us all?” “You’d be surprised how big I can get,” Tommy said, doing his best not to laugh when the other new person let out a surprised chuckle.

READ THE REST ON AO3!

[lowkeyrobin]

hii i love your writing and im wondering if you could please write something fluffy for tommyinnit? maybe y/n is also a streamer/cc and their relationship is well known in the community and theyre always so sickeningly cute that their friends get so annoyed!! i just think that'd be fun.

tyty!

(also could i be 🌙🌊 anon? thanks!)

yeah of course!! welcome to the family 🌙🌊 anon :) ; and oooo okay, hopefully I did this right! thank you for requesting!

TOMMYINNIT ; sickeningly adorable

summary ; two streamers publicly dating, who would've guessed

warnings ; language

word count ; 562

y/s/n = your ship name

masterlist

You and Tommy finally made yourselves official in late 2021 as the Dream SMP fandom had started dying out. You waited for a while for the hype to go down because of toxic fans and weirdos online who'd care too much about your relationship, and everything turned out fine.

Most of your social media feeds were filled with support, but of course, there were always some hate comments here and there, from yours or Tommy's "fans" about each other. There was a toxic side to every fanbase, and you'd both go to great lengths to try and deal with it. After a while, you both stopped caring and accepted that giving those people attention only drove it further.

But, the toxicity was small, the love and support for you two being together was ten times larger, and that's all you could care about. From fanart and fanfiction to deep dive analysis' on Tumblr connecting your real selves to your characters, it was cute in all honesty. What was even cuter in your opinion was compilations of "adorable y/s/n moments for ____ minutes straight" videos.

You regularly binged those videos, even on stream, even with Tommy. That's what started the constant teasing and bickering from your friends. They were playfully annoyed at the two of you, which also led the community to do the same, which made him trend at #10 on Twitter for the day.

You were both grateful for your communities, and the opportunities and memories you could share online because of it.

But now, you're recording a vlog with Tommy, Freddie, and Tubbo as you hang around an arcade for the day. You split into two teams, You and Freddie v Tommy and Tubbo, to see who could win the most tickets in an hour. You and Freddie quickly went to grinding up tickets on Dance Dance Revolution, while the two T's went to try and get tickets off the basketball shooters.

You look back at Tommy, failing to make a ball in the basket behind you, Tubbo next to him, reminding him of his awful aim. You lightly smile and turn back to Freddie, already judging you with his facial expression.

“What?” You question

The boy with the dyed orange hair looks between you and the blonde across the room, an eyebrow raised.

“You’re both annoying”

“Shush”

You look back at Tommy, lightly chuckling as he and Tubbo begin throwing the balls at each other, aiming for the face. Freddie snaps you back to DDR, wanting to win free lunch.

"C'mon, Y/n/n, I can't carry this myself!" He lightheartedly laughs, pulling you into another round.

As you're playing DDR with Freddie, back to Tommy and Tubbo, the blonde begins to get distracted by you as well. He widely smiles, watching you bounce around on the mat while you focus on the game.

"Look at Y/n" He whispers to Tubbo, watching you with hearts in his eyes. "They're having so much fun"

Tubbo rolls his eyes. "Tommy, we need to get tickets, stop swooning over your partner"

"It can wait!"

"Half of our time is already gone!"

"I'm enjoying my view of my very happy partner, Tubbo. I'm buying lunch anyways"

The shorter brunette groans, "I'm getting a slushie then, have fun staring at them and looking like a creep"

Tommy quickly blinks before running after him, "Tubbo, no, wait!"

[demonvampire180writes]

Groundhog Day Chapter 3

BuckTommy Fix-it Fic Rated: T

4,571 Words

No editor/editing

On Ao3

Chapter 1 on Tumblr

Chapter 2 on Tumblr

The lights are too bright, even behind Tommy’s closed eyelids. Groaning, he turns over and attempts to pull the comforter over his head, but fails when he realizes he’ll have to try more than he wants to because it’s tucked in with hospital corners at the foot of the bed. Snorting his displeasure, he rolls back onto his back and pries his eyes open, one painful centimeter at a time until he’s staring at a room that doesn’t feel familiar through a half lidded gaze.

Wrinkling his nose, he pushes himself onto his elbows and does a head swivel of his surroundings. The space is cozy - lived in but not messy - with a half full hamper and a few articles of clothing that must’ve just missed being thrown in. There’s a set of matching dark wood dressers pushed against one wall; a walk-in closet packed to the gills peeks out from a partially cracked door. Another door, overflowing with well worn sweatshirts and baseball caps, opens into a mostly tidy bathroom. An old, frayed, grey washcloth is bundled up on top of the white marble countertop next to a black toothbrush holder. The gold colored faucet gleams like a brand new fire truck.

A sharp pain nails him in the temple and he closes his eyes as he breathes through it. It takes much longer than it should have for the pain to go away, though it sits at the fringes of his awareness. Grunting, he opens his eyes once more before pulling himself into a sitting position. He’s shirtless, but he’s in his trusty rust colored sweats. As the pain ebbs, one of the doors rockets open and a tiny ball of fury whips through at warp speed, jumping like a spider monkey into his lap as it screams, “Daddy!” at full volume. His brain short circuits again at the title. He’s not anyone’s dad. Right?

Realizing the creature is a little girl, all he can do is watch as she wraps her arms and legs around his own legs, pinning them in place. The breath is knocked from his lungs when she turns his face up to look at him, grinning with a gap toothed smile, the top front left one missing. She’s got that round, cherubic face only the young seem to have, but what catches Tommy off guard is just how much she looks like B… like Evan. Like his genetics really said copy and paste after bullying the other party’s genes out of the way. Her glacial blue eyes are wide open and shimmering under the filtered morning light. Her head is covered in nearly butt length loose curls that folks would argue over whether she’s a blonde or a brunette.

“Pipa!” A familiar voice chides, followed by a visage Tommy dreams about on the regular. Evan… No. Buck. Buck enters the room carrying a breakfast tray, the smell making Tommy salivate like Pavlov’s dog. He swallows hard, heat pricking at his eyes though he’s not sure why.

Seeing Tommy is awake, Buck approaches him and drops off the tray before leaning in and pecking Tommy on the lips. One hand strokes his daughter's hair until she sits back. “Morning babe.” Buck grins, the crows feet in the corner of his eyes more pronounced than Tommy can seem to remember. He looks… Different. But how?

Buck turns to Pipa as he says, “We have to let daddy eat. Let’s go downstairs to get ready for school.” She shakes her head with vehemence.

“No! I want to stay with daddy.” She scurries up the bed, definitely leaving a bruise on his leg as she uses it as a springboard to launch herself forward. Before he knows what’s happening, the little bundle of energy is burying herself under his arm against his side making the most adorable pouty face he’s ever seen. She has to be a Buckley, alright, with a pout that lethal. Pipa crosses her arms over her thin chest and glares daggers at Buck.

Evan.

The man sighs and places his hands on his hips. Anyone else would have likely been considered looming, but he just looks like a giant teddy bear in need of a hug in his sweatshirt and jeans and wild, loose, curls. His daughter remains unfazed, burrowing further into Tommy even. Not knowing what else to do, Tommy wraps an arm around her and musses her hair a bit. He receives exactly one giggle before she’s back in tantrum mode. “Pipa. We need to get ready for school so daddy can drop you off in a bit.”

“No!” She huffs, turning her face into Tommy’s pec, burrowing her nose against it.

“Pipa.” His tone is more serious now, and he’s no longer smiling with that exasperated fondness so many parents seem to hone with their children.

“I said no!” She screams as she wraps her arms around Tommy’s middle, her voice an ear piercing shriek. Tommy feels dampness against his skin and is shocked to realize that this little girl is really spilling tears over this. Overwhelmed, he leans over and places a kiss on her head before turning his gaze back to the man still standing over them.

“Pipa.” Buck’s tone is absolute no nonsense now, and Pipa realizes this. She grabs the edge of the blanket and bunny kicks it until she can slip under the comforter before pulling it up over her head. “That’s enough young, lady. I’m not playing around anymore.” Pipa whines and flops around some, continuing to bunny kick under the blankets, jamming knobbly limbs against Tommy. “If you don’t get over here right now I won’t allow you to go to Melissa’s birthday party this weekend.” Oh that was the wrong threat because Pipa howls as though she’s been pierced through with a steel arrow laced in poison. Her trickle of tears becomes a torrent.

“Hey, Buck.” Tommy says, grimacing because it feels like it’s not his place to tell the man how to raise his kids. He doesn’t immediately notice the way Buck flinches at his own name. “It’s fine. Why don’t we let her stay up here while I eat, and then I can help her get ready for school.” Said child sniffles and nods emphatically against him. It’s ticklish but he tries his best to remain stoic. He doesn’t want Buck to think that he’s laughing at him.

That’s when he notices the devastation on the younger man's face, his expression crestfallen, arms limp at his sides. His mouth flops open and closed a few times, but eventually it snaps shut and he nods. Shoulders hunched in on themselves, he turns away and begins to shuffle towards the door. What the hell? “Buck?” Tommy says, voice soft, but confused. The man goes even stiffer, if that’s possible, and he shuffles faster. “Evan!” Tommy calls sharply. He stops, still trying to make himself smaller than an ant. “What’s wrong? Is it okay if Pipa stays up here?”

“She can do whatever she wants.” His voice is wet, tone clipped. Tommy’s confusion grows even more. What the hell is going on? “I’ve got to get ready for work, I have a 12-er today.” His hand touches the doorknob before he says, snuffling, “I’m sorry if I made you mad.”

“Mad? Why would I be mad? I don’t care if Pipa stays while I eat breakfast. I didn’t want you to get upset because she wasn’t listening to you.” Little fingers angrily pinch his side and he responds by giving her a squeeze to let her know that her behavior isn’t okay, but she can stay because Evan needs a break.

He’s quiet for so long Tommy honestly thinks he’s not going to answer but he finally says, stilted, “You called me Buck.”

Tommy’s brow furrows. “Well. That’s your name, isn’t it? Didn’t you say that’s what all your friends call you?” He grunts when pain reminiscent of a needle drilling into his skull shoots across his temples. The hand not holding Pipa shoots up to grab at it, eyes screwing shut until it passes.

Buck is speaking but Tommy finds it difficult to hear through the pounding. “But. You’re not my friend.” He pauses. “I mean, you are but… You’re my husband. You’ve only ever called me Buck when I’ve done something wrong.”

More searing pain. Gritting his teeth Tommy hunches forward as he tries to fight back the nausea rolling through him. Husband? He and Buck… Evan… are married? He pries open one enough to look down at his hands where he spots a brushed copper band  a few millimeters wide on his left ring finger. Taking deep breaths he pulls himself back into a sitting position. Pipa is staring him down with worry in her eyes, her own issues forgotten in lieu of her fathers plight. God they look so much like Evan’s. It’s painful to look into them and see pain reflected back. Evan’s expression morphs into one of serious concern as he reaches back towards Tommy. “Hey, are you alright? You’re looking kind of pale.”

Tommy waves him off, plastering a grin on his lips. “No, I’m all good, sorry. I think I’m just feeling a little sleep fogged still. I didn’t mean to upset you, babe. Come back here.” He holds his hand out and waits for Evan to take it before he drags him in to kiss him lightly. Pipa protests, pushing away from his body but can’t get far with his arm still locked around her. “I’ll get her ready for school as soon as I’m done, okay?”

Sighing, clearly still a little bit upset, he nods and pats Pipa’s head, cups her jaw for a moment and then trudges out of the room, shoulders still hunched.

“Is papa mad at me?” Pipa asks, blue eyes looking extra wet.

Sighing, Tommy shakes his head. “No honey, I think he’s upset with me. But that’s okay, it will be fine. Why don’t we eat this delicious looking meal that papa made just for me before we’re late?” A single stem of lavender pokes out from what looks like a repurposed saké jar, and two overly fluffy pancakes sit stacked with a large pallet of melting lemon butter and a dollop of whipped cream on top. There’s a tiny silver carafe of warmed maple syrup that Tommy pours in purposeful drizzles over the breakfast cakes.

Over the next twenty minutes, he alternates taking his own bite, before then offering one to his daughter who hums happily with an added excited wiggle. Once she has her fill, she slips out from under his arm and dashes out the door yelling, “Jonah!” as she clomps down the stairs. Chuckling, he finishes the last few bites before setting the breakfast tray aside and hauling himself out of the king sized bed. Stretching, he searches the room, trying to decide where to start. Groaning with an extra good stretch, reaching his arms above his head with his fingers laced, and palm facing upwards, he decides to start in the bathroom. He wastes no time brushing his teeth and giving himself a cursory shave. The counter is so clean the lights reflect off the surface. He plucks at his curls a bit, trying to make them lay a certain way, and fails so he sighs and goes out and into the walk-in to grab clothes. Grabbing a navy ribbed long-sleeve shirt, he shimmies into it - it’s form fitted to his figure -  before grabbing a pair of dark wash jeans with a little bleaching effect along the thighs. They fit snuggly, enough to show off his powerful thighs and give his ass a little squeeze but the waist is perfect, and comfortable. He slips into a pair of tennis shoes before leaving to head downstairs.

Outside their room is a hallway with three other doors. Two of them are covered in decorative bubble letters spelling out each of the kids' names, and a few silly posters. Another door leads into another bathroom that has a very clear frog motif going on with the giant lilypad shaped bath mat, and a cartoon poison dart frog on the shower curtain. Two frog face shaped step stools are lined up neatly against the double vanity. Tommy grins, just knowing that it was Evan who helped choose the decorations. Those kids probably know more about frogs than any kid their age should. Especially ones of the poisonous variety.

Smirking, Tommy takes the staircase quickly, barely holding onto the railing. As he reaches the first floor landing, a young boy barrels on by, backpack flopping half open behind him. Evan shouts after him, “Jonah, your bag is open. Close it before you lose your schoolwork!” He sounds irritated and Tommy wonders if it’s because of him. “Pipa, where are your shoes? I have to leave and daddy needs to get you to school.”

“I can’t find my unicorn shoes!” Pipa screams as Jonah shouts, “I won’t lose anything, papa, it’s fine. See?” He turns his bag upside down just for a shower of loose pencils and papers to come cascading out of the top.

“Whoops.” He looks up sheepishly. It’s like a gut punch, seeing the face of the man he loves from thirty years ago staring up at him with the same crooked grin and tiny port wine birthmark in a damn near identical spot. Unbidden, a quiet whine squeezes past Tommy’s lips so he coughs to hopefully cover it up.

Not that he has time to contemplate because Evan huffs with such rage that Tommy’s eyes go wide with surprise. “Jonah, this is why I told you to close your bag all the way. Look at the mess you’ve made, and you’re already running behind. And Pipa you’ll just have to wear a different pair of shoes today. I don’t have time to help you look.” Tommy doesn’t know the last time he heard Evan’s voice so hard, his expression so serious. His eyebrows are knit together in the center and his mouth his whipcord thin, frown lines deep along the corners.

Jonah’s bottom lip trembles and his eyes drop to the floor. Pipa is hollering behind him about how she wants those shoes and that she won’t go to school if she can’t wear them. “Jonah, apologize to papa. Now. And Pipa, if you keep behaving this way, one more sentence out of your mouth that isn’t ‘yes daddy’  or ‘yes papa’ you absolutely will not be attending that birthday party.” Tommy steps in, hoping to keep the pot from boiling over. “We don’t reward misbehavior in this house.”

This causes Pipa to lose it as she falls to her knees and screams. Tommy lets her, hoping she’ll tire herself out. Jonah kneels down to begin picking up his mess. Ever so quietly he apologizes, sounding sincere, “I’m sorry, papa.”

“And what will we do next time Papa asks us to do something for our own good?” Tommy quirks an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Listen.” Jonah sniffles, crumpling the papers he’s picking up as he crams them into his bag.

Sighing, Tommy goes and kneels next to him, stilling his little hand. “That’s right, Jonah. Thank you for saying you’re sorry. Would you like me to help you clean this up?” He nods just the smallest bit. Tommy says nothing but pulls the little boy in so he can kiss the top of his head, ruffling those same disastrous curls he loves on Evan so much, to show he’s not angry. He sniffles once again before giggling, pushing Tommy away. The two of them make quick work of the mess and this time, Jonah makes sure to close the zipper all the way.

Evan is over with Pipa, doing his best to calm her down but she’s not having it. Sighing, he stands up and shakes his head. “I don’t have time for this. I need to get to work. Sorry Tommy.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it. Thanks for making me breakfast. It was amazing.”

“Don’t mention it.” He runs a hand through his hair and blows out a raspberry, trilling his lips as he surveys the area around him. “I guess I’ll leave it to you, then.” Shrugging with another heavy sigh he goes to walk past Tommy without even a touch but Tommy grabs his wrist and stops him.

When he turns to look, Tommy pulls him into another gentle kiss and brushes his hair out of his face. “Have a good day at work, Evan. I love you.” He kisses him on the lips again and then the tip of his nose. “I’ve got things handled here, so go in with a clear head, alright?” The first smile Tommy’s seen all morning crosses his face, tiny as it is; nothing more really than a quirk of the lips. But it’s a smile nonetheless. Nodding he takes in his family once again before disappearing around the corner. A couple minutes later Tommy hears the sound of a door swing open and then shut, and then the sound of a garage door opening.

He turns his attention back to the two little humans now solely in his care. Jonah has gone up to his sister and wrapped her in a hug, whispering that things will be alright. Clearly, he’s got a soft soul, and Tommy prays to a God he doesn’t believe in that the world doesn’t beat it out of him. The world at large needs more soft hearted people. Pipa’s crying has ceased but now she’s hiccuping, heaving breaths, cheeks tear stained and eyes red. “Now that that’s all squared away.” He’s stern as he looks down at the kids. “Pipa, you’re going to find a different pair of shoes to wear-” she opens her mouth to protest and Tommy holds up a hand, palm facing her, “- do you not remember what I said about not saying any other words besides ‘yes Daddy’ or ‘yes Papa’? Because just because Papa has left for the day doesn’t mean that threat doesn’t still hold. I don’t want to hear another argument from you or you can kiss your fun weekend goodbye.” The dramatics of a six year old. Pipa slumps to the floor and pounds her fist against the carpet. Tommy says absolutely nothing. Just waits.

Jonah comforts her by running his hand up and down her arm. She tries to bat him away but he doesn’t give up. Eventually the crying stops. “Are we done?” Tommy asks. Nothing. “Pipa. Are we done throwing a tantrum and getting all our big feelings out?” She pounds the floor exactly two more times before dragging herself into a sitting position and nodding. “What do you say?”

“Yes daddy.”

“That’s great, but don’t you think there’s maybe something else you should say after upsetting papa by not listening when he was already stressed?” Tommy crouches in front of her and gently rubs her shoulder.

“I’m sorry.” Her bottom lip quivers and she pounces forward, wrapping herself awkwardly around Tommy’s middle. He opens his knees a bit more for balance and drags her in for a proper hug.

“Thank you. And I expect you to tell papa that when he gets home tonight, okay?” She nods. They hug for a minute more before Tommy unlatches her and slowly gets to his feet, grimacing as his knees crack. Getting older sucks. “Now. Let’s find you some shoes and head out. We’re running really late and I don’t want to be yelled at by the receptionist.” Both the kids giggle. Pipa does as she’s told, running to the front closet to grab a different pair. Jonah takes Tommy’s hand and drags him to the garage door to wait.

Less than ten minutes later he has them secured in their booster seats in the back of an SUV he doesn’t entirely recognize, and they’re navigating through morning rush hour. He pulls up to the drop off zone with five minutes to spare, traffic was forgiving this morning, and he hustles them from the car. Wrapping a hand around their shoulders, he guides them into the building, stopping in the in-between foyer to kiss them good-bye and to tell them to have a good day. They wave enthusiastically as they pull open the heavy inner doors and run down the hall towards where their teacher waits outside their classroom. She lifts her hand in a wave as they squeeze past her, so he waves back, grinning. He stays long enough to see her get them into the room.

As soon as he’s back in the car he takes a deep breath to center himself. What a morning it’s been and it’s only just past nine. Smirking because everything feels ridiculous, he puts the car in drive and heads out. Something guides his hand because he finds himself pulling into Harbor maybe half an hour later. The tarmac is mostly empty except for a few pilots who seem to be cleaning their birds while it’s slow. Pain zings through his left temple and he winces, pressing a couple fingers there. It doesn’t last. Weird. He thinks, face sliding back into the indifferent mask he’s known for. Choosing not to think too hard on it, he drives around to the side of the hangar where the employee parking is. To his surprise, all the spots are full, but he swears he works today. Another zing of pain spiked energy.

Tommy can’t help the inkling of concern creeping its way in. He’s never been the type of man to get headaches, and certainly not random cranial pain throughout the day. It’s now happened multiple times that he tries to access a certain part of his memory and is then tormented by a nail to the skull. Grimacing through the pain, Tommy pulls off to the side where he knows he won’t be in the way and hops out, not bothering to lock the doors.

The sun overhead is bright which doesn’t help the pain and Tommy has to squint to be able to get anywhere. He holds his hand at his eyebrows even to make a visor of sorts. The pain isn’t fading, it remains a dull throb at the edge of his consciousness but he’s got to get rid of this nagging feeling in his chest. He makes it across the tarmac and enters into the hangar itself, which is bustling. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he searches for anyone familiar. That’s when he hears, “Kinard?” from his left. Turning, he sees a younger woman, early thirties probably, standing by one of the birds not outside. The access panel to the engine hangs open and a rag covered in grease or oil hangs out the back pocket of her flight suit which she has the top half undone and hanging loose, wearing an LAFD issued t-shirt tucked in.

“Hey… Um…” He stares at her face and blinks rapidly a few times but for some reason it’s like she’s a frame in a movie where the DVD got scratched up. Her features are distorted, so much so he’s surprised he can tell what color her hair is. Screwing his eyes shut, he rubs at them with his thumb and middle finger so long and hard he sees stars. When he opens them, not only is it not better but it’s like she’s physically glitching, multiple horizontal panels flickering and fuzzing in and out. Then the pain hits, and it’s nothing like he’s felt before.

It’s so aggressive that he crouches and holds his head in his hands, grinding his teeth to keep from screaming. “Tommy?” The woman whose name he doesn’t even know sounds so concerned but it only makes the pain worse. Her voice is closer and a moment later a petite hand clutches his shoulders, gently shaking him. “Hey, Kinard, are you okay? Do I need to get a medic over here?” He can’t see her turn but he feels it. Reaching up he grabs one of her wrists and shakes his head.

“Fine. I’m fine. I… I don’t know w-what’s wrong with me. I’m just going to… head home. I can’t work today.” He inhales deeply through his nose to push back the nausea rolling over him like waves on the ocean shore. The whole world swims and he’s sinking.

She tenses. “Work? What are you talking about, Tommy? You retired over six years ago. Once your husband got promoted to captain you guys decided only one of you needed to work.” She pulls her arm from his grasp and steps back. Tommy only knows because he’s opened his eyes fractions of an inch. Any more is too painful. The strange woman, apparently someone he doesn’t work with, states, “I’m going to get one of the paramedics over here to look you over. Did you maybe hit your head recently? Do you have any other symptoms?”

Struggling to stand, Tommy takes multiple staggering steps backwards, holding out his hand in a warding off gesture and says, “No, sorry. I’m just fine. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Just been a weird morning I guess. Thanks for the concern, but I’ll get out of your hair now. Y’all have a nice day.” He chances looking at her and the air whooses from his lungs when she’s in clear focus; no more weird glitching like he belongs in the Matrix or a bad video game. The nails in his temples are almost nothing but a memory.

“If you’re sure…” She looks ready to stop him if a single thing more happens, and he won’t take it well if she tries, so he turns on his heel with a wave and makes as quick of a dash to his car as he can without a word.

As soon as he arrives home he bustles into the house and finds the hard liquor, downing at minimum two shots of whiskey. The niggle in his mind is becoming an earworm, digging at him, nagging at him, but he can’t seem to burrow deep enough. Leaning against the counter, he lets his head drop as he breathes, eyes closed.

After a few minutes, he gathers himself enough to make it to the couch where their black cat Rain sleeps at one end, a black hole against a grey background of fabric, and Rusty - their old basset hound - curls up on the floor in front of it. Rusty lifts his head when he senses Tommy but snorts his disinterest before laying back down, sighing deeply as he falls back asleep. Tommy spends around five minutes dissociating with the remote in hand before eventually turning the TV on and losing himself in some game.

That evening, after Evan safely tucks the kids in their beds, and Tommy reads them each a storybook, Evan takes Tommy slowly. He enters him, rocking his hips as Tommy wraps his legs around him, needing Evan’s warmth and reassurance. They kiss and whisper reassurances to one another. When they’ve both come, sated and satisfied, Evan cleans them both before snuggling under the blanket and bringing Tommy against his body, burying his nose in his neck as the two fall into deep sleep.

Tommy wishes he could’ve fallen asleep with peace of mind, but subtle terror remains, eating away at his mind.

[justsomeoneintoomanyfandoms]

Heya! I just wanna first say I REALLY like your writing and it's so so cool to see some TD stuff on tumblr TwT the community is so small still so you are doing gods work here!!

I'm interested in a TD match up (possibly OM too if ur up to it!! either way idm<33)

- Name: Jay (nicknames: Bread, bug, jäyssi)

- pronouns: They/them

- sexuality: still figurin it out but I lean more towards men but also sometimes find women attractive too, non binary ppl are always a yes

- Zodiac/mbti: Cancer, ISFP-T

- appearance: 165cm tall, brunette ass lenght hair I usually just slick back using my headphones as a hairband. Always wearing noise cancelling headphones and prefer a more alternative style, almost also teetering to a 90's jock vibes :P small round sunglasses my beloved. Big love to suede leather bomber jackets and ripped jeans.

- Personality: Very empathetic, more of a listener than talker (unless it comes to my interests in which case I yap!!) Can come off as a bit monotone (I have alexithymia which causes emotions to be hard for me). I'm told I'm super approachable and comforting ^^" I get very excited over the little things and can be quite optimistic. I react quite badly to rejection or even the smallest failures.

- likes and dislikes: I LOVE snails, dandelions(my fav flower<33), anything mango flavored winter, art, everything and anything fluffy and listenin to music! I DISLIKE almost all fruits, summer, blood/gore (hemofobia), cooking (cooking anxiety), worded instructions.

- hobbies: I draw/paint digitally and traditionally. I always carry a sketchbook around everywhere :] I also really like going on easy hikes on forest trails as well as amateur photography!!

- extra info: I have autism/ADD so social stuff might suck and I can be very slow at times when it comes to learning stuff.

(If you're not currently doing matchups, please feel free to ignore this <3)

Hi Jay! Thank you for your request! Sorry it took a while. I hope you like your matchups!

In Tokyo Debunker, I match you with...

You and Towa make a good combination since you’re both good listeners and talkative at different times. When one of you is talking, the other is listening intently.

You like dandelions? Oh, Towa’s perfect for you! He’s always bringing you dandelions whenever he visits and plants them nearby so he has a constant supply.

I see him as someone who’s a fan of summer as well. He likes the feeling of the sun on his skin and enjoys going on walks through the Jabberwock fields with you.

He thinks it’s really cute that you have a fondness for fluffy things. There are plenty of those around Jabberwock and he’ll happily show them to you, as long as you show him some affection as well. His hair’s pretty fluffy after all…

Towa also thinks it’s really cute that you get so excited over little things. He thinks that sort of enthusiasm is much needed in the world and it’s lovely being around you.

In Obey Me, I match you with...

Simeon was first drawn to you because of your comforting presence. And the more time he spent with you, the more he fell for you.

Much like Towa, Simeon thinks it’s sweet how excited you get over little things. He feels he doesn’t have to hide his own excitement when he’s around you.

He’s a very creative person himself so he loves sitting by you when you paint or draw. He likes being around the creative process since it makes him feel inspired as well.

I can definitely see him as someone who likes photography and would really enjoy going on walks with you where you each take a camera and compare photos when you get back.

Simeon’s pretty good in the kitchen himself so as long as you don’t mind the company, he’d love to join you. If you prefer cooking by yourself, he’ll happily just have some of whatever delicious food you’ve whipped up.

[harmonyverendez]

The Other Bridgerton - Chapter 1

Chapter two here ------>

Harmony Bridgerton wipes away more tears, the rain falls, and she reaches over to grab her umbrella. Placing it over her head as she steps out of the carriage.

She looks at the male beside her, holding the door open..“Thank you, Jeffrey ”. The male nodded, and she grimaced when her family came running at her. Putting on her best smile, she hoped no one saw anything.

“ Oh, dear sister. How was your trip to Astia?” viscountess Daphne Asked. The chestnut female smiled at her sister, and they embraced.

“ It was a delightful sister, I just missed it a little bit she replied. Daphne frowned at her sister's tone, no one else seemed to notice.

Anthony Bridgerton caught on and he narrowed his eyes. Benedict Bridgerton didn't seem to noticed he comes up and start asking her random question.

Violet Bridgerton spoke up then. “ Alright, you all. Let her breathe, I'm sure she will tell us all later. Come, dear, let us get you ready for the day”.

The family then walks inside the house, and closes the door.

~

“ Do you think she is coming out?” Asked Harmony, next to her Victoria held her out and was leaning her ear against the door.

“ I left my husband and child for this” Daphne spoke. Mrs. Bridgerton smiled when the door opened.

Out came Eloise in a beautiful white dress.

The family looked at her and couldn't take their eyes off her.

Harmony was indeed proud.

“ Not. A. Word, none of you say a word!” The brunette snapped.

She walks out of the room and passes her family. “ Come on, let's get this other with ”.

Mrs. Bridgerton smiled with pride and followed, along with the other family members.

~

The moment the bridgerton family stepped into the room, all eyes were on them. Especially Harmony Bridgerton, just born after Daphne and before Eloise. She was the most attractive female of the family. Most would think she was adopted because that's how beautiful she was.

All eyes were on Harmony Bridgerton.

She was delighted by the attention, but her heart still wanted to be with Adam. And being here with eyes over her and under the spotlight. She felt naked and vulnerable without her Betrothed.

A male comes up to her then, he was a a dark-skin African American with long curls.

He smiled then and she was taken back, he was beautiful. But he was not Adam. But still she did not want to be rude.

So she had no choice but to put on a brave face and smile.

“ May I have a dance, my lady?” The male asked.

Harmony looked back at her family, Eloise was glowering at the male, while Mrs. Bridgerton was smiling in pride.

With a shaky breath, she held out her hand and placed it in his strong hands. “ You may, my lord”.

And he carried her to the floor, as they glided across the ball room floor. Others watched with curiosity, envy, and some hatred.

The chestnut female didn't notice Lady Danbury, but elderly woman knew one thing.

She just knew.

~

When the dance was over, Harmony walked back to her mother and family. Anthony was being the over-protective brother mode, and then there was Benedict.

Ugh, always the joking manner.

The chestnut female bit her lip and stood next to her mother. Her beautiful silky white dress flowing behind her.

“ How was the dance, dear?” Mrs. Bridgerton asked.

Harmony put on her fake smile and looked at her Mother. “ It was fun... And charming Mama” she replied.

The male she danced with was named Lord Raphaël Gérin. He was an excellent dancer, but her heart did not call for him.

She looked around the room and noticed two brown-skin Indian women with their mother, next to them was Lady Danbury.

And their eyes were on her.

Hmm, time to put on a brave face once more.

~

So turns out the woman's name was, Edwina and Kate Sharma, Edwina was young, playful, and just so gorgeous. While Kate was more down-to-earth, Arrogant, and aggressive.

' She would be a perfect match for Anthony ' she thought.

And their Mother ( Step ) was Mary, such a kind woman, but she could tell they were here on a mission.

As soon as that mission was done, then they would take their leave. Someone steps up beside her and she looks to see Eloise standing next to her.

“ Charming is it?” she said with Sarcasm.

Harmony laughs softly, bringing the attention of others around her. She laughed soft bells.

Eloise smiled and elbowed her softly. “Come on dear, sister. Enough or you'll send the whole room after us”.

The two paused and laughed, they joined arms together and walked away still laughing.

~

.

..........................................................Flashback ...........................................................

Harmony giggles as Adam nuzzled her neck softly. They were currently in the dining room, and no one else was around. Even if anyone caught them alone together, then they would be married instantly.

“ Oh, Adam. I love you so much ” the Chestnut female purred. The dark-haired male chuckled softly, and his lips trailed down to her cheeks until it reached her collar bone, where he applied a gentle kiss.

“ As I love you as well, my love ” Adam cooed.

The dark-haired male then turns over, so that he is hovering over her. He kissed her harder, sending shock waves of pleasure through her body. They both moaned at the feeling, and the female's eyes widened as a gasp left her lips.

The Dark-skin male then spreads his love's leg and pressed his body against hers, but not enough to hurt her with his weight. He then looked deeply into her eyes light -colored eyes and just stared at her beauty. It always amazed him how beautiful she was, she was an angel. A queen - his queen. And she shall be -

“ Mine!”

His lips slammed against hers, their lips moved together In sync once more before he pulled back to look into her eyes for consent.

“ Can I?”.

Harmony smiled at him. She trust him, and she knew he would be the one for her.

“ Yes, you may”.

~

Here is the second chapter. Another one should be out next week. Stay tuned - Aaliyah.

[averysexyleon]

in which karl cops out lol

Isince tumblr likes to warn me about my posts I'll warn you this time, SEX AHEAD)

“It’s not the bath, it’s you,” Ethan argued, nearly breathless himself.  His hand strokes were feverish, possessive, nothing like they had been earlier.  It felt amazing, enough to destroy the engineer in seconds. Karl fought for lucidity.  

“What about me,” was all he could muster as he finally inserted a third finger, plunging them toward the prostate and moving in slow, expert circles now on the inside.  The massage caused Ethan to lose composure this time, which Heisenberg watched hungrily, savoring the panting and high-pitched whine from the blond.  He dug the fingernails into Ethan’s shoulder.  “Ethan.”  Eethun.  “What about me.” A smile played over the scars.  

“You-make-me-crazy,” the other said haltingly, a hiccuping breath between each word.  “Always…have.  Karl please.”

“You make me crazy too,” Karl found himself confessing, the smile fading as his prostate massage finally caused Ethan to grab onto his shoulders to stay upright, his torturous assault on the brunette’s member ceasing.  Karl exhaled a sigh as his head continued to swim.  For several seconds, he could think, maybe even speak.  “I watched you the whole time,” he was muttering, but not stumbling over his words as he usually did with alcohol.  “Watched you, wanted you.  To keep you.”  

Ethan’s shrill, desperate noises lowered in pitch and he pulled back, fingers now pushing Heisenberg’s tangles away from his face.  His expression showed that he understood what Karl meant, even if Karl was particularly bad at articulating himself at this moment.  

“Why.” 

It was easy with slippery water, extra slippery lube, for Karl to grasp his own cock with his free hand, guide it to Ethan’s entrance, and now gently withdraw his fingers as he properly lowered the blond onto him.  He paused with just his tip inside, and Ethan’s labored breathing and parted lips told him the other would not be pressing down onto him as he had with fingers; Karl was far too wide for that.  

Why , indeed.  The engineer had both hands gripping into the sides of Ethan’s ass, holding him in place while a thousand images rolled through his mind.  The months they’d spent together, their time within the mold’s consciousness before that, and both their, and the village’s, deaths prior.  With Ethan’s arrival the cacophony of death, life, and everything in between, had never ceased; his approach was closer to one of the four horsemen than anything Karl could have ever created.  He was stronger than an army of Soldaten, stronger than the mutamycete he’d conquered, stronger than any Lord or would-be God.  

Karl’s eyes were elsewhere; now they flickered over to the expectant hazels.  He could hear the sounds of singing from outside, as though the day’s namesake fairies carried them there, with the crackling sound and scent of the bonfire.  

Burning within, seen from without, and your gut was a serpent coiling

and for the sake of that pit of snakes, for whom did you allay your shyness?

And spend all your mercy and madness and grace in a day beneath the bending cypress? 

He’d never have an answer that would satisfy the blond.  Karl couldn’t even satisfy the answer in his own head.  How did one say, I felt like I knew you?  I felt like I knew what you could, and would, do to me and I’d still come back, and bring you along with me.  Not because of the trauma or the cult.  Just because it was meant to be that way.  They were meant to be together.  

No.  Absolutely not.  

Karl spoke as he slowly pressed, finally, into the other.  Eliciting an almost immediate moan and squirm from Ethan.  

“Guess I’m selfish,” was the reply.

GO READ THE FULL CHAPTER it's long that's what she said

[bratshaws]

goodness gracious 1. brb x oc

THIS FIC IS 18+ ONLY! MINORS PLS DNI!

a/n: * pulls up megaphone * Rooster was raised right by his mom and doesn't care about body types. The lack of plus size fics made me upset so I literally returned to Tumblr to create this blog and write this. This is the first time I'm writing for this fandom so... I HO PE YOU GUYS LIKE IT??? its been centuries SINCE I WROTE aNYTHING ( also god im not creative with titles, please forgive me )

check out the fic's playlist made by the sweet @wiipes !!

pairing: plus size!oc x rooster

c:

1/2/3/4/5/6/7/8/9/10/11/12/13/14/15/16/17/18/19/20/21/22/23/24/

25/26/27/28/29/30/31/32/33/34/35/36/37/38/39/40/41/42/43/44

45/46/47/48/49/50/51/52/53/54/55/56/57/58/59/60/61/62/63/64

65/66/67/68/69/70/71/72/73/74/75/76/77/78/79/80/81/82/83/84

85/86/87/88/89/90/91/92/93/94/95/96/97/98/99/100/101/102

warnings: mentions of bullying, self doubt, aNGST, mutual pining, Rooster being a sweetheart.

“Hello!” Beatrice calls once she enters Hard Deck by the employee’s entrance, popping out her airpods to slide them inside her bag shoulder, “I’m not late, am I?” she calls to Penny who’s currently fixing the tables ahead of her.

“No, you are just on time!” she calls, her voice a bit muffled since Bea put her bag inside the little closet area for employees. She checked her appearance before going out on the mirror hanging on the wooden wall, pulling her dark brown hair up in a bun and fixing her Led Zeppelin shirt, wiping the dust off her jeans before finally walking out. Once she gets out, Penny is turning the lights on in the back area of the bar that leads to the beach. 

Meanwhile Beatrice grabs one of the bags of ice, carrying it to the ice machine behind the bar, plopping the cold cubes down the container, crumpling the plastic bag once it was empty to toss in the recycler. “I’m here, babes!” a voice calls, then a blonde head of hair shows up, “Hope you two didn’t do everything with me gone!”

“Just waiting for your presence,Michelle!” Penny calls, looking over her shoulder to press a kiss to her niece’s cheek, when she hugs her “Hi, honey, Bea is already here.”

“Bumblebea!” Bea smiles when the blonde comes over to the employees closet as well, removing her denim jacket to expose the low cut red tank top and jeans. “Need help?” Bea nods, pointing to the other bags of ice in the corner, “Friday night, tonight will be a long night huh?”

“Sure will.” Bea noted, the two of them dumping the rest of the ice “How was your date though? With the policeman?” the brunette asked, chuckling when the blonde girl rolled her eyes with a sigh.

“I swear, police officers are the clingiest guys.” Shells said, grabbing the empty bags from Bea’s hand to shove down the recycler, “He didn’t want to leave! I kept saying, ‘hey i gotta go to work,’ and he asked where I worked and I told him he didn’t need to worry about that.”

 The two of them then marched to the storage room area where Shells grabbed a box of handkerchiefs. “Then he said ‘oh it’s not a problem, I can take you’ and–and! Then he said ‘I like you a lot.’ Like!! We’ve only hooked up twice!...” she shakes her head, “I just told him it’d be better if we didn’t contact each other anymore and it was fun while it lasted.”

“He accepted that?”

“Course not, called me a bitch all the way out, I think I saw tears in his eyes before he left.” Shells shrugs, waiting on Bea to grab the recycled straws from the upper shelf, then turns off the light once her friend walks out “I swear, I’ll give up on Tinder like you did. It’s insane!”

Bea chuckles, opening the bag of straws to put them inside a glass, “I mean, you know my sister found her husband on Tinder.”

“Um, yeah, but he’s a handsome doctor from London with the body of a god and deep bronze skin. He’s like a beautiful statue!”

“I shouldn’t have never shown you their wedding picture.” Bea laughs, shaking her head with amusement. “and to think I just wanted to show you how pretty the location was.” the two of them looked at the clock, seeing they had little time before the bar opened for the public, so they had to finish everything up quickly.

Once they did and the bar opened, it exploded with people, the voices getting louder the more people entered. Music floated on the air, much to Bea’s delight as she hummed to herself with the songs. 

To think, just a few months ago she was looking for a job to help her with the bills and if it wasn’t for Shells and Penny, she’d never get it.

Beatrice is from a tight, traditional Italian family. While they are progressive in certain areas, most of her family doesn’t think women…should do much. If they have a job it should be a useful job, like banking or something like that, not Liberal arts. Which was what she always wanted to do, being a creative person since she was a child, she just wanted to work with what she liked.

But being the youngest of six siblings, the literal baby that had to stay home while her older siblings went out to live their lives out of state or even out of the country she had very little control in certain choices. Maybe it was the empty nest syndrome, with all her siblings gone from the house, her parents only had herself to… take care of in a way. It took years for her to actually go to her choice in college,juggling between work and long study hours, choosing to leave her job once she had enough money saved up to help herself once she got her place.

During college was when she met Michelle, or Shells, who took her to the Hard Deck a few times. It was distant from her job and her parents’ house and Beatrice loved it. She loved the atmosphere, she felt welcome by Penny and even if this was a Naval bar she didn’t feel like she was intruding in some way.

When Shells mentioned they needed one more person at the bar, Bea said yes immediately. Her parents weren’t happy with her choice, but they couldn’t stop her, especially since her own siblings supported it. So now she was here, working, happy, focusing on how she’d continue her career as an artist.

The bell rang, drinks were served, people were dancing. It was a nice night so far. Bea was washing one of the glasses when she heard a cacophony of voices that she heard a few times and her body heats up. She couldn’t help but just stare at him, he stood out of his group like a beautiful floral patterned thumb. With her eyes following him until they all sat down on their usual spot, Bea couldn’t help but bite her lower lip, feeling her cheeks warm up even more when he laughed at something.

“Ohhhhh, cock-a-doodle-doo huh?” Shells’ teasing voice snapped her out of her staring, Bea’s green eyes wide as saucers, seeing her friend’s teasing grin, “How long until you finally make a move?”

“I…I don’t know what you mean.” she continued washing the same glass, the squeaking sound of the sponge rubbing against it giving her some of a distraction.

“Bea, please,” Shells took the glass from her hand, then tilted her head, “You look at that man like he hangs up the moon every time he comes by.” but her friend then turned to the opposite side, focusing on checking the liquor bottles. Shells sighed, coming to her friend’s side and crossing her arms, the brunette trying too hard to keep her eyes on the label.

“This is a 1975, right?”

“Bea.”

“I can’t really see, the label is a bit faded–” the bottle disappears from her hand, Beatrice snapping her gaze to Shells, who holds the liquor under her crossed arms, her eyebrows going up to her hairline. Beatrice sighs defeatedly, “I…I don’t know what you want me to say.” she shrugs “He’s so…” she groans, covering her face with her hands, “He’s so…so hot,Shells. and he sings! and-and he’s funny and…he’s everything I’ve always wanted in a guy.”

“One more reason to go to him.” Shells whispers, “He’s single and handsome. You are single and gorgeous.” the blonde held her fingers up in a V position, before joining the two with a kissing sound, “Perfect match.”

Bea frowned, “It’s not that simple.” she murmured “I…I mean…look at me Shells.” she spread her arms to emphasize. But her friend just frowned, “Oh come on, like…look at me I’m not the type of girl who gets guys like that.”

She was a curvy gal, always had been. Normally, she wouldn’t mind it, but when it comes to guys, more especially when it comes to Rooster she just lost a good amount of confidence. He was literally adonis personified, just the most beautiful man she had ever seen. and she felt less than pretty when she remembered the type of girls that surrounded him or worked with him. 

“You know that’s not true.” Shells said with her voice low, a kind smile on her face, “You have as much chance as any girl out there.” Bea however scoffed, “You gotta believe in yourself Bea. You are gorgeous, any guy would be lucky to have you.”

The brunette’s eyes stung with unshed tears, the same eyes she clenched shut in hopes to hold them in. Memories of past relationships flooding her brain, bringing memories she wished to forget “Can we not talk about this anymore?” Shells is about to say something else but a customer calls for a refill, which Bea thanks every powerful being for, slapping on a smiling mask, “Coming right up!”

Shells only watches her friend go to the opposite side to serve one of the guys there, laughing when he says something to her - clearly drunk -  before walking away. Shells’ stare broke when she heard the bell ring, turning on to face the person. 

She immediately smiled wider, “Hi Bob.”

She likes Bob, she thought he not only was sweet he was also so smart. He knew he had a hard time with the group, especially Jake, but he was getting there. She leaned on her elbows, giving him a sweet smile, “What can I get you?”

The way his cheeks flushed and his eyes tried to look anywhere but the cleavage she put on display was so cute, “Oh, uh, just more beer?”

“Sure! Should I put it in your tab?”

“Yes,please.”

Shells went to the fridge to grab the beers, then paused, sending a look to where Beatrice was currently talking to two female customers. She then looked over her shoulder to Bob, who smiled at her, then past Bob to where his group was…a devilish thought showed up in her brain, “Why don’t you wait with the others? I’ll bring it to you.” 

“Oh, okay! I’ll be there then.”

With the beers on top of a tray, she sent one last look to her friend who was still busy, then sped her step maneuvering through the crowd until she reached them. “There you go, more fuel for the pilots.” she teased, making them laugh while switching the empty bottles with the full ones, throwing some quick looks to her brunette friend, “So,” she rested the empty tray on her hip, “What else can I get you?”

“Your number would be nice, sweetheart.” Jake was quick to say, sending her a wink with the bottle to his lips.

Shells chuckled, “I meant something achievable,Hangman.”

“I think we are all fine.” Phoenix says, “Thanks Shells.”

“Hey, not a problem. Oh, just letting you guys know, I’ll go on a break in a few minutes so if you guys need anything else, you can ask Bea.” She kept an eye on everyone, but especially Rooster. The way his eyes just snapped to her friend made her insides flip in triumph, the little smirk on her face hidden by her biting the inside her cheek, “She’ll gladly serve you.”

Rooster’s eyes finally left the brunette at the bar counter, meeting Shell’s knowing blue gaze only to clear his throat and look away again, “Well” she drawled, walking backwards, sending them a salute, “Enjoy the night!”

The moment Shells approached the bar, she ran to her aunt, whispering something in her ear. Both Penny and Shells looked in Beatrice’s direction, who was leaning down to pick something behind the bar, unaware of the scheming happening behind her back.

Once the time came for Shells to have her break, Penny kept an eye on Beatrice. It took just a few seconds for a known pilot to approach the bar, the bell rang and Beatrice turned around with a wide smile, a smile that faltered for a quick second before returning - albeit a lot milder than before - “Hi!” her voice was higher, so she cleared her throat, “Um,hi.”

“Hey.” Rooster replied, leaning his elbows over the counter, which made Bea suck in a hard breath once she saw the curve of his pecs underneath the white tank top, “Can you believe I came here to get more beer? Just three this time though.”

She couldn’t help but huff out a chuckle, covering her mouth with her hands then “Well, it is a bar.” she adds, “I would be surprised if you came here for groceries.”

When he laughed at her joke she almost felt like fainting, biting her lower lip hard with her head dipped, “I-I’ll go get it.” practically power walking towards the freezer where she stood for a few minutes, letting the cool air hit her cheeks as she tried to calm herself. She shook her head for a quick moment, grabbing the beers between her fingers and turning back around, almost letting out a yelp of surprise to see he was still looking at her “There you go.”

“Thanks.” but he didn’t leave, pointing his index finger at her “Bea, right?” she nods with a small smile, “It’s weird, I’ve seen you for a while and never got your name.”

Maybe because she chickened out every time he seemed to want something, ending up telling Shells to do it, “Oh, well,” she only gave him a weak shrug, then felt like her arms were too exposed, quickly lacing her hands behind her back to hide them the best she could, “I haven’t been here long.”

He hummed, a tiny smile on his face, “I’m Rooster.”

“I know,” she blinks when his eyebrows raise in amusement, “I-I mean, I heard Penny and Shells talking about you and heard your name being called around.” her face was so warm she felt like she was boiling. She hoped the light above her head hid her blush from his view. “I…is there anything else I can get you?”

“I don’t think so, no.” he looks back at his friends, seeing they are still chatting amongst each other. Then his eyes travel to the splotches of ink on her upper arms, the parts that weren’t hidden behind her. However before he could ask her about them, she snaps her head ahead when she sees someone on the table lifting their glass.

‘Sorry I–” she moves her own finger over his shoulder, “I gotta go get this.”

“Oh, oh no no, yeah, go ahead.” he smiled and her knees almost buckled just like that, “I’ll go back then.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

They stood there for a bit longer, until Rooster shook his head, picking the beers with one of his hands “I’l see you around then,Bea.” he smiles then turns on his heel back to the other pilots. Bea just stood there, face flaming and eyes wide, then she cleared her throat walking out from behind the bar to the table.

Penny, who watched the entire ordeal, just smiled, sending Shells a quick text once no one was looking:

“It’s on.”

[brewedlove]

Thorfinn Falls for Askeladd’s Daughter

Series/Fandom: Vinland Saga

Character (x reader): Thorfinn, Dad!Askeladd

Relationship to Reader: Romantic with Thorfinn, Daughter of Askeladd. There isn’t actually a Reader-insert but feel free to imagine yourself as Askeladd’s daughter if you’d like

Reader Specifications: Technically, I didn’t insert a reader but feel free to imagine yourself as Askeladd’s daughter if you’d like. She is female and uses she/her pronouns. Ethnicity isn’t specified or her any details about her appearance or who her mother is. I did write this with the mindset that she is Askeladd’s biological child so I was thinking that she has some Danish and Welsh blood in her but that’s just me.

Word Count: 1194

Warnings: Suggestive Sexual Actions (but not with the daughter/Reader), Alcohol, Teasing, Suggestive Threats

Requested: Yes

A/N: I have no idea how to title it so.. Yeah. I was literally working on this all day because I got carried away from how excited I was for this. I did not proofread any of this because my brain has melted but it was worth it so if there are any grammatical errors, please notify me. I didn’t actually insert a Reader into this but feel free to imagine yourself as Askeladd’s daughter if you would like. (Click the picture for better quality).

UPDATED A/N: If you recognize this piece on a different blog under the name @iwritesinsandsins it’s because Tumblr silenced all my posts there so I’m starting over again. (／ˍ・、)

~

Bjorn weaved his way through the mass of people, careful not to bump into any of the women who went about the night serving drunken men food, drinks, or their bodies.

He kept his eyes focused above the sea of heads on one man in particular who sat alone at a table littered with meals and dirty dishes.

Even from where he was, Bjorn could see the disdain on the blonde’s face that subtly scrunched up as he kept his gaze in a single direction.

Approaching him, Askeladd turned his head towards him and nodded his head in acknowledgment as his mouth pulled into a playful grin as if he wasn’t just scowling moments ago, “Enjoying the welcome home party, Bjorn?”

Answering with a shrug, the taller man moved to sit in the empty seat next to his boss, crossing his arms while he leaned back and stretched out his legs in the process.

“Same as any other party when we come back,” with his helmet off, it allowed the range of his vision to expand while he looked into the crowd until he spotted the possible source of Askeladd’s irritation.

There, Bjorn notices their most recent recruit seated at a table directly across from theirs on the other side of the sloppily moving bodies of villagers and pirates.

The teen looked painfully awkward as he kept his eyes away from locking with the girl next to him.

She was around the same age as Thorfinn; a little too close in age in Askeladd’s personal opinion.

Admittedly, Bjorn found the scene amusing and even cute, especially during these times of constant bloodshed and immoral actions performed by nearly everyone he’s come across.

“You should enjoy the party,” neither man took their focus off the pair as the brunette advised the captain, to which he only received a short huff in response.

With the boisterous laughter and chatter enveloping the village, she had to raise her voice a little louder so the boy could hear her properly but it didn’t help his poor heart at all.

Not only was she alluringly beautiful and her personality and attitude made his chest tighten in an unfamiliar way, but she was also Askeladd’s daughter.

Her question about his travels with her father went in one ear and out the other when she went to place her hand on his shoulder.

The sudden contact unknowingly assisted by Askeladd’s icy glare through the drunken mass caused the boy to shiver unintentionally and cling to his clothes.

He could feel the weight of her hand leave him while instead of curiosity, her voice now is laced with concern, “Are you cold? I can get you a quilt,”

Before she could move to stand, Thorfinn quickly declined her offer, insisting that he wasn’t cold at all.

When he turned to look over at her, she stole this opportunity to press the back of her hand to his forehead.

The complete innocence of her actions was the culprit of the boy’s rising temperature, his cheeks now flushed a faint shade of pink and all eyes of the crew now fell on him, including her father.

Their slurred hollering sounded no different to how they sounded just a moment ago so the girl paid no mind to them while Thorfinn held all her attention.

Being too stunned at the physical contact, he didn’t hear her muttering to herself about how he may have come down with a fever.

Whistles and laughter around the village came to an abrupt halt, finally resulting in the duo to look around for the reason before they settled their focus on Askeladd who hadn’t bothered casting his eyes elsewhere other than on them.

In his hand was a now dented gold cup with alcohol spilling over his fingers, soaking into the soil of the ground at his feet.

Just as quickly as she had placed it there, his daughter retracted her hand from the other teen and rushed over to the captain; his subordinates knew better than to get in her way.

Askeladd locked eyes with the younger blonde boy until the girl approached him, a clean rag ready in her hands.

His ambiguous smile returned as she took the cup from him and checked his hand for any injuries before lightly scolding him, telling him he should be more careful.

While she helped clean his hand, the party resumed behind her.

Matching the same volume as before, she couldn’t hear the few crewmates on the opposite side of the crowd teasing Thorfinn about his sudden infatuation to which he grit his teeth and threatened them.

They only laughed in response and continued to push him until your voice called out to him, stating that you’d be back with some medicine for him while you went to get a new cup for your father.

That didn’t help their relentless comments nor did it stop the captain from glaring daggers into his head that he could’ve sworn felt like the real thing.

After another moment, he finally had enough.

Too overwhelmed and flustered, he briskly walked away from the party leaving behind the small band of alcoholics obnoxiously laughing at his attitude.

When the girl returned both a new cup and herbal medicine in hand, she was disappointed to see that the boy she was talking to was no longer there.

It was something that did not go unnoticed by Askeladd.

Later that night when the rest of the village slept off the aftermath of the party, Thorfinn felt a presence nearing him and placed his hands over the handle of his weapons as a precaution.

(BONUS - I apologize beforehand and will see myself out, bye.)

Descending a small hill, Askeladd’s hardened expression became clearer as he came to stand next to him, staring off into the horizon where Thorfinn’s eyes settled prior to his own.

Without having to look over at him, the captain was straight to the point in his words, asking if the boy was interested in his daughter.

Admittedly, it sounded more like a statement rather than an actual question but the younger blonde didn’t mention it, instead choosing to deny his feelings.

“Is my daughter not good enough for you?” Askeladd turned to hold eye contact with him, face void of any emotions, surprising the teen for a few seconds as he racked his brain to come up with an answer.

Before he was given the chance, Askeladd’s lips pulled up into a teasing grin.

It was the sort of face that Thorfinn expected to be followed with a “just kidding” comment afterwards but nothing came.

His eyes never matched his mysterious smile and it didn’t change until he turned around, moving to walk back to the village but not before he placed a hand on Thorfinn’s shoulder; the same shoulder his daughter had placed hers on earlier but firmer and threatening, even.

As he leaned down, the corner of his lips dropped, displaying his unamusement towards the teenager.

Askeladd’s words carried the same suffocating weight as his hand while he sent words of caution to Thorfinn.

“If she calls anyone else around here, ‘Daddy’, we’re going to have a problem. Am I clear, boy?”

[tu-sugar-mami]

Tales of the side of the road #7: Let your bro take care of things

1k words, Tumblr mobile won't let me cut it.

You can read the whole thing in AO3

______________________

That time where an inhuman creature jumped in front of your car and made you and your companion spin down the hill trapped inside the crashed vehicle, could probably be one of the worst days you can -although very vaguely- recall in your life. You still hear the screeches of the slowly dying creature along with the pained cries of your companion in your nightmares, and some nights you swear you can feel the iron grip of their hand on your forearm searching for support as the pain blinds their senses. The dreams never stray from that memory, always looping in the exact same order in your slumber and making it impossible for you to gain proper sleep. Usually a few hours of shut-eye are enough to push through the long day, but as of lately, thanks to Eiddelte, it's been easier. Since you were 'blessed' with the honor of sharing your body with a dark deity, most of your memories from your life before Itsy Bitchy Spider have been slowly dissolving into a hazy fog, and numbness has been slowly overtaking your emotions towards that event. You don't even care about your late companion anymore, whoever they were, and even though you're ashamed to admit it, you're grateful for that since the heavy feeling after the nightmares was becoming annoying. You see no point in grieving for someone you can't remember.

Under that amicable and friendly mask personality you use for your everyday service, there's a lone and empty shadow of the person you once were. A stranger might think you're the human version of a golden retriever with how many friends you may appear to have, but the truth is, there are actually very few people you care for, one of them being Mark.

Mark, a fairly handsome brunette guy with the most dashing smile and the most charming dimples you have seen on a human who is a member of a cult, somehow slithered his way to your good graces and, even if you wouldn't admit it out loud, became something akin to a brother to you. He was there when you started working at the coffee shop, giving you a tour of the nearby woods and even treated you to a combo of chips and soda from the Oxxo across the street. He was the first face you saw after the Eiddelte incident, and the only one to keep putting you above everything other than said dark goddess. 

You both clicked like a fingernail and dirt, sharing the freshest gossip over some sweet pastries and a cup of cold chocolate and fixing the wooden cages in the back alley while he told you about his crush on a new member of the cult or trying to play pranks on the sole cashier in that old convenience store. 

Of course, spending so much time together let him learn most of your schedule, and so, as you are currently knocked out cold behind the counter, he tightens an apron a size too small for him with a coffee beans pattern print and takes it upon himself to make sure the shop doesn't fall apart. 

"I see now. I'm sorry you had to go through that." Mark says, rolling the sleeves of his shirt up to his forearms. "My first encounter with our goddess was also quite a shocking experience but one gets used to it with time." A goodhearted laugh comes from him as he gently feeds a lizard from the lizard jar to the thing that lives in the vase Daniela was about to break earlier.

"How can you say something like that?! We could have Died!" Cassandra remarks, her hands gripping hard onto the counter wood. 

"But you didn't, did you miss? Other than my Gary boy all of you are just fine, and I'm sure little ferret here wouldn't have let anything happen to you." Mark points at you. "See that? She fought against My goddess' power to be back in her body, that's why she's exhausted."

"Little ferret?" Daniels, who has gone through most of the cake exhibits, asks. 

Mark laughs again, and crouches next to you to ruffle your hair before making a display of his strength and pulling your limp body to carry it on his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and making his way to the staff only room.

"Yeah," His voice sounds muffled from behind the half closed door. "It's kind of an inside joke between us."

"Donna says it's adorable." Angie, who is back next to Daniela and munching on a cookie, says before jumping off the counter and yelling her sing-song. Poor Donna can only jump at the realization that her thoughts are exposed and quickly chases after her doll with her face bright red and thinking-yelling shush shush shush!

"Alcina! Are your bugs okay?!" The glass doors open abruptly making the bell above the glass tinkle loudly and a tall man whose clothes have definitely seen better days barrels in. 

"Uncle Heisey!" Daniela says and runs to him, almost sending him to the floor with the tackle-hug she receives him with, but surprisingly he stands perfectly and softly pats her head.

"Are you alright kid?" His voice comes chill, but worry boils under it.

"Heisenberg." The tall Lady stands from her seat and walks towards the man passing next to Bela, who's sitting on a tall chair, and pets her head on the way. 

Heisenberg squints at the Lady and goes to meet her halfway. Daniela swarms back to reunite with her sisters.

"Tell me i wasn't the only one to feel that earlier, Alcina. I wasn't worried about you at all, but you know i have a soft spot for your bugs." He says, and takes a moment to sweep the place with his eyes in search for his other two nieces, who spot him and wave before going back to raiding the rest of the exhibit. Don't tell this to Karl but they know he also checks on Donna and Angie to make sure they're alright too. And maybe he was a tiny little bit worried about Alcina too.

"Yes. That." Alcina swallows and the man shifts his posture, uneasy. He has very rarely seen Alcina this hesitant. "As much as I'm reluctant to say this, Mother Miranda might not be the only goddess we know now."

"Yeah, glad you re–" His eyes open in surprise. "Wait, you're serious?"

Alcina would have most definitely laughed at the look on Heisenberg's face if she wasn't that worried about what the implications of her words were. 

"A goddess… a real one you mean?" His head is already filling with plans and ideas for his personal goal. 

"Karl." A voice comes from behind him and Karl jumps slightly. Donna (god knows how she's always so silent) is next to him with Angie demolishing a lollipop and back in the safe restraints of the dollmaker's arms. "Did you feel it too?"

Karl's gaze is fixed on the wooden floor. He's ashamed to admit that the pressure also got to him while he was napping. His power didn't help him to fight it, instead managing to make the metal tubes from street signs nearby pin him by his jacket to a tree a few meters from the carriage. He is also not going to admit that for the first time since he got the cadou he felt helpless and… scared.

"I did. That was her?" 

Donna nods. 

"What we felt is something i haven't experienced before even with Mother Miranda's wrath unleashed." Alcina looks back over her shoulder to her girls. "I don't know if she must know about this."

"Good news! Little ferret is alright!" Mark comes back into the room, wiping his wet hands on the apron. "Oh, a new visitor." He says as he spots Karl. "Welcome to Itsy Bitchy Spider! What can I offer you this lovely afternoon?" 

While The Uncle Heisey is busy admiring the way the button up shirt clings to the brunette man's Dorito shaped torso and how those strong looking forearms are exposed, Bela's gaze is fixed outside wondering if it's her imagination or if it's really still afternoon when she's sure the sun should have gone down few hours ago.

_________________

If you love my work, would you like to buy me a coffee?

[aoitrinity]

Why Do I Have to Feel Like a Fucking Conspiracy Theorist -- OR -- How I Find a Semblance of Peace on Sunday Night

I’m also going to start this out with a GIANT DISCLAIMER.

I am about to theorize about what may have happened to the SPN finale. I have absolutely no insider knowledge. I am merely speculating here based on the panels and a bunch of Twitter and Tumblr posts that I have been reading over the last few days. If you are not in a good place to read such things, TURN BACK PLEASE. Go take care of yourself and your mental health. You and your feelings are valid and deserve to be handled gently right now.

Additionally, if you are here to give me shit for being unhappy with the ending, please walk away as well. I am here to reach out and share my feelings with people who might be struggling to make sense of something that upset some of us in very deep-seated ways. I am not here to bother you or critique you or tell you that you’re lesser because you liked the ending. If you felt it was good, then go enjoy it.

Long-ass post beneath the cut, everyone.

Alrighty folks...I debated whether or not to do this because I have been spiraling down the hell that is the SPN finale since Thursday. The travesty of what happened to our show--to this beloved show that seemed to have been so perfectly and precisely written for at least four years that it had basically already paved its own tarmac on which to land its plane and we all thought we knew exactly what we were going to get. And then we didn’t. We had a nigh Cas-less and entirely Eileen-less ending. We had no goodbye between Cas and Jack. We had Dean dying young after finally finding his freedom, only to ascend to heaven with no one but Bobby. We had the weird, weird, weird incest-y death scene. We had the bridge crane shot thing because...sure. You do you, Robert Singer.

It was so terrible, so truly awful, and I couldn’t seem to square any of it with anything we had known going in. I tossed and turned and cried and didn’t eat or sleep all weekend. I spent hours just reloading tumblr and twitter, going to the Misha panel, reading and reading and listening and trying to figure out what the fucking hell is going on because I needed to know exactly where to direct my anger. And after a fuckton of talking with @winchester-reload, I think we have at least a very plausible theory about what happened here--I’m laying it out below as much for my own peace of mind as anything else, because otherwise all of these thoughts are going to continue to spin around in my head for weeks and I won’t be able to do jack shit.

Now to start off, unfortunately I do think Dean was slated to die from the beginning of this season. I don’t know WHY they thought that was the best way to go, and I wish they had listened to Jensen on this one. Part of me wonders if it was an order from on high based on the discussion between Becky and Chuck earlier this season--the writers knew it wasn’t a great choice, but they were trying to signal to us that we should feel free to write our own endings to the story because they’d be better (I can wax poetic on the signs of why many of the writers probably wanted Dean to live, but that’s another post). I’m not defending that choice by any means, just laying it out there that I think they didn’t necessarily all want to kill Dean like they did.

However, what I THINK I can explain now is what happened with Misha and why we got so jerked around with Cas’s story. Consider what we know (I can’t immediately source all of it, but I did my best):

At the end of episode 15x19, Lucifer has been returned to the Empty after being killed AGAIN. He talks with Cas. Maybe harasses him a bit about Dean, idk. But then...Jack shows up. New God Jack. And he picks up Cas and pulls him out of the Empty, leaving Lucifer behind, because seriously. Fuck that guy (also leaving behind his abusive father is character growth for Jack, so yay for that).

-Misha was contracted to film 15 episodes this season. He was only in 14.

-Misha told Michael Sheen he had to go back to film 1.5 episodes after the shutdown in March. (Starts at 6:13)

-Misha was in Vancouver during filming of the finale.

-Mark P said at Darklight Con that the last scene he filmed was with Alex and Misha (and Mark P was only in episode 19).

-Misha implied that he was present for various filming moments, including Dean’s death (start at 35:15), and said that it felt like a “mini-reunion.”

-Various sources have mentioned that Jimmy Novak was supposed to be in the finale.

-After episode 18, Stands tweeted a fan who was angered and hurt by Cas's death that they could talk about the “bury the gays” issue after the finale aired.

-In episode 19 we know there were takes of the parking lot scene where the only thing fans observing could hear was Dean yelling “CAS” at Chuck (fuck I can’t find this one right now, but it’s definitely out there)

-Also in episode 19, we had a very strange, awkward montage at the end of the episode.

-In episode 20, we know there were a FUCKTON of missing scenes

-We also had no opening montage, but three other separate montages.

-Carry on My Wayward Son was played TWICE, back-to-back at the end of the episode.

-Episode 20 was shorter than normal and had surprisingly little dialogue. The pacing was VERY strange.

-The cast and crew has been almost completely silent about the finale since it came out. When they have spoken, it has been with an awkward excuse of “Uh...COVID?”

-Samantha Ferris has specifically noted that, despite the Harvelle’s being back in play and a big heaven reunion having been planned pre-COVID, neither she nor Chad Lindberg received any such invitation to return.

-Cas and Dean POP Funko figures were pictured together in a replica of Harvelle’s in 15x04.

NOW with all of this in mind (and I’m probably missing some stuff too because there is so much--feel free to add on to that list), please bear with me because here is what I think we were SUPPOSED to get POST-COVID (after it was determined that the reunion couldn’t happen because of the virus):

In episode 20, we start with our NORMAL OPENING MONTAGE, like always. It traces everything that happened during the season. We are reminded of Cas. The confession. Rowena. Eileen. Jack. Billie, God, the Empty, all of it. 

Things then follow along in the episode where they did up until Dean dies and wakes up in heaven. After his conversation with Bobby, he drives off to find Cas (who, in the script, was listed as “Jimmy Novak” in order to protect against script leaks--who wouldn’t want to do their best to avoid spoilers about the finale with the wrapping of a fifteen-year show?). He does indeed find Cas. We get Dean’s end of the confession. Hell, maybe we even get a kiss. And then Dean sets up his new heaven home in the recreated Harvelle’s. Maybe Cas even fucking moves in. 

Years pass. We get Sam having his life on Earth (still can’t explain why they cut Eileen and couldn’t even have Sam signing vaguely to the blurry brunette in the background; if anyone wants to take that on, go for it). Eventually, Cas tells Dean that it’s almost Sam’s time. Dean takes Baby and goes to meet Sam at the bridge. The cover of Carry on My Wayward Son plays during this much shorter sequence. End of episode.

But that’s not what we got. Instead, much of what I just wrote about was excised from the episode. The remnants were stitched together after shooting had been wrapped. Filler was added in the form of montages and long, unnecessary extra shots to get the episode to something approaching a reasonable length. 

But why? Why would they spend all that time and money and quarantining on Misha, only to almost completely cut him out of the finale? I struggled with why the fuck the CW would want this mammoth show to go down as the greatest queerbait in TV history when they had the chance to do something truly beautiful and monumental with it? It couldn’t just be sheer homophobia, right? Well, I think that factored into it, my friends, but here is where my head is at right now.

It was about cold, hard cash.

Now I could be wrong, but this is what I’m thinking at the moment: Supernatural is going off of the air. Supernatural, the CW’s cash cow for fifteen years. Sure there is still money to be made on blu-rays and merchandise and cons...but they need people watching their shows. They need that sweet advertising revenue. And you know what show they have about to premiere? A show that could, potentially, bring with it a chunk of that SPN revenue?

Walker.

And if any of you know anything about the original Walker Texas Ranger, you know that the show was predominantly a show about a very heterosexual white man being very excessively heterosexual. And for SOME REASON over the years, many of the execs at the CW still seem to think that this show, Supernatural, is really attractive to a lot of middle-American white men...whom they desperately want to watch this new show with this guy from Supernatural that they already know.

Now here’s where COVID fucked us. I think Destiel was greenlit by TPTB, at least in SOME form, before COVID. But then the pandemic happened, and they panicked. They got the cut of the last two episodes and watched them in their original, probably queer form. And then, the execs at CW looked at the economy. They looked at their cash cow, about to make its journey to the great beyond. And they looked at this new little calf Walker that they were so desperately worried about. And they made a choice.

They decided that it would be too risky to take the step with Destiel. They were worried about frightening off their ever-so-valuable hetero male demographic with the possibility that a traditionally masculine man in his 40s could be in love with another man in an overt way. It was homophobia mixed with greed, spun up by fear for their revenues because of COVID.

So they called in Singer, possibly Dabb, although I wouldn’t be surprised if they went straight to Singer. They told them that Destiel had to go: executive orders. And the only way to make it go in a way that removed any trace of what had been there was to rewrite what happened to Cas and cut him out from the last two episodes entirely. It was too late to reshoot anything. They had to just cut and stitch and fill with bullshit montages. 

They removed the scene at the end of 19, probably because Cas and Lucifer discussed Dean. All that was left of Misha there was his voice on that fake phone call. They may have cut other things too, but I would bet my life that they cut a scene from the end of the episode and replaced it with that very strange montage. Then they moved onto 20. They cut out every scene with Cas. And left in only two platonic mentions of him, neither made by Dean. They tried to imply that Cas might show up in Dean’s heaven at some point, but that was as far as the editors could go in the time they had. They filled in with montages, awkwardly long shots, anything they could do to fill all of those missing scenes.

And they even had to take the opening montage, because literally everything in it pointed to Cas being there at the end of it all. They wouldn’t be able to leave out his scenes, they were too critical to the season. They couldn’t cut his confession without raising eyebrows. So they cut the whole thing and moved “Carry On My Wayward Son” to one of the newly-added driving montages at the end. Which is why we awkwardly had both songs play back-to-back--again, such a strange choice unless they were out of options and couldn’t exactly buy rights to a new track or compose anything else.

And so we were left with the shadow of the finale that we deserved, that Cas and Dean deserved. We were left without resolution or happiness or words. Bobo told us the most important thing about happiness is just “saying it” and our characters were silenced without anyone ever knowing the truth.

I think the writers might have known and been given the new party line that “Misha never filmed, he couldn’t, sorry, it was COVID, no one’s fault!” But I don’t think most of the cast even knew it had happened until they watched the finale on Thursday with us (though they might have been confused why the bit from 15x19 was sliced, they could reasonably have assumed it was a time thing and also BL episodes don’t make sense anyway). Why do I say that?

Well, first of all, Misha started sending out a bunch of excited texts to fans with some old BTS pictures about an hour before the show started airing on EST. He also wanted his children to see the episode, his YOUNG children. Why would he show them such a traumatic episode if their Dad wasn’t in it? What if it was because he wanted them to witness what was going to be a monumental moment in queer television history that their DAD got to be a part of? And then that was all dashed.

Which is why I think the cast and crew went almost completely radio silent the next day. I don’t think they knew. And based on how they have been acting on social media since then, I think many of them are absolutely furious, but they have been silenced because of NDAs, because they want to find work again in a cutthroat industry, because they don’t want to bring down the hellfire of Warner Brothers Entertainment upon themselves. So the most we have gotten is a little acknowledgement from the MERCHANDISING COMPANY trying to validate our pain (god bless Shirts, she is a LIFESAVER) and a response to my salty tweet about keeping good stuff in the closet from Adam Williams (the VFX coordinator) that seemed to acknowledge the validity of my complaint.

Then there was a scramble behind the scenes, I would bet my life. Talking points were fed to the boys who had panels today, to CE, to all the cast and crew:

Toe the party line. Misha never filmed. This was always about COVID. Do not mention Destiel. Do not mention Dean’s feelings for Cas. Do not promote the Castiel Project or anything that validates the idea that this was anything less than a superb ending.

And that is why we have heard so little from the cast on this front, and what we have heard has been muddled and contradictory. That is why the writers are saying nothing. That is why we have been left adrift.

Now before I close this out, I do want to say that I really, genuinely do not think this was on the writers at all. I feel like they tried to give us the best ending that they could, in a writers room that we know is notorious for splitting along party lines about the overall story (BL and Singer, who have always been about the brothers and their man-pain vs. Dabb and the rest who always seemed to want more for them and for Cas). I think they did everything in their power to at least end with Dean and Cas happy together. If they could give us nothing else, they wanted to give us that. And then the network took it from them. From us. From everyone.

For the sake of fucking money. 

And the WORST PART OF IT ALL, for me, is that in the wake of this disaster, the fans have been left to try and figure out what happened. We have had to wade through a mire of conflicting information in the midst of all of our collective anger and grief over this garbage ending of a show many of us have loved and even relied on for YEARS, all the while wondering if we’re just fucking crazy, if we have all fallen collectively into the hole of conspiracy theories. That hurts ESPECIALLY badly because we have taken so many hits over the years from other groups on social media saying we were crazy for seeing things that weren’t there (especially Destiel), for writing meta and analyzing tropes and believing the evidence of our eyes and ears. The network has made us relive that entire nightmare WHILE processing our grief for a show we wanted so badly to celebrate and which instead we now have to mourn.

So again guys, I cannot prove that this is exactly what happened at all; this is simply my idea of what may have happened. But right now, it’s the most sense I can make from this mess, and to be honest, the act of typing it out has helped me enormously in my processing of it all. I feel like I can see more clearly, like I know where to target my outrage and where to direct empathy. I feel like just fucking maybe, I might be able to do my job tomorrow without bursting into tears at random moments. 

I really hope that this post has helped some of you to, in some small way, process this too. We get through this the way that Misha told us at his panel this morning, the way the writers have told us to do all season long...we throw out the story God gave us and we make it better. We write our characters the happy endings they deserve. 

We save them.

One last thing--if you have not already, please consider channeling your rage into a donation to one of the five causes our fandom has put together to pay tribute to our beloved show and to mourn the ending it should have had:

-The Castiel Project

-Dean Winchester is Love

-Sam Winchester Project

-The National Association of the Deaf

-The Jack Kline Project

[misscarolineshelby]

Spanked

Part Two: First Day

Pairing: Modern Tommy Shelby x Reader Words: 1,345 Warning: None…This is only the beginning!

Original Blog: @queenshelby (this is just my backup account as I have been having Tumblr issues)

When you told your friends and roommates about what had happened to you that morning, they couldn’t believe it.

Whilst you were excited to be working for one of the largest enterprises in the UK, they were more intrigued by the fact that you were going to work directly for Thomas Shelby who was a well-known business man and who was quite popular with the ladies across the country.

The 39-year-old had quite a reputation which is what attracted these women. But you decided that you wouldn’t be one of them.

According to your friend, he was the perfect mix between an elegant business owner and a working a class man. He was different to many others out there and, unlike the other men in charge of other big corporations in the UK, he had built his wealth by himself.

Of course, when you read his name on the business card, you remembered reading the rumours in the papers. According to the London Telegraph, he was said to be involved in some illegal businesses as well and it was believed that he had built his empire through drug trafficking and illegal race fixing. But these were just rumours. Thomas Shelby hadn’t served any prison time and was never convicted of any crimes. It was only his brother, Arthur Shelby, who was charged with two murders but never convicted.

He was also involved in politics, having acted as an MP until it became too boring for him. Luckily for him, he maintained connections to other politicians and judges and, miraculously, he had no problems getting licences for any and all of his business operations.

But none of this bothered you much. You saw this job as an opportunity and stepping stone of some sort.

***

Despite your lack of interest in the man himself though, you listened to your friend’s advice when it came to appropriate office attire.

‘You cannot possibly wear this’ your roommate said as she watched you put on a grey coloured suit and a black blouse.

‘That’s what you wear to an office though’ you said somewhat confused while looking into the mirror.

‘Men like something to look at. At least wear a dress and show some legs. You never know, you might even find your prince charming’ your roommate then said with a cheeky smile before disappearing into her room and returning with three dresses for you to choose from.

Of course, she had a point. You had been single for two years and, before that, you had one boyfriend who was just as nerdy as you were. He was your first and your last.

After trying on all three dresses, you chose an elegant knee length black dress but, when you put on some stockings and shoes, your roommate shook her head again.

‘Oh god no. Please let me style you’ your roommate insisted.

‘No, I don’t have time’ you huffed out, looking at your watch.

‘I will style you up for your first day and then I will call you a taxi. I will use my father’s credit card. He won’t even notice’ your roommate said and, after some convincing, you reluctantly agreed.

Your roommate quickly found some suspenders and stockings in her draws and made you put them on. Then, she looked for some shoes, but none of the ones she owned would fit you.

Eventually, she found a pair of black high heels in your other roommate’s wardrobe who, luckily, had the same shoe size as you.

Finally, she applied your make up and straightened your hair. It looked perfect and she was certainly impressed with her own work.

‘Holy shit, I am fucking awesome’ your roommate then said and you couldn’t help but laugh.

‘I look good’ you said somewhat surprised as you looked into the large mirror in your bedroom.

‘You fucking do. Go and get yourself a suitor’ she teased you and you shook your head.

‘No, I am there to work, not to flirt. Despite, I don’t even know how to flirt’ you admitted and your roommate couldn’t help but giggle.

***

When you arrived at the offices of Shelby Company Limited, you were greeted by a tall dark-haired woman who showed you to your new office.

It was near the reception area and you were surprised by the layout of the building. Everything was made of glass and the floors looked like marble. It was incredible.

Lizzie explained to you how things worked around the office and told you that you would be reporting to a man by the name of Michael Grey.

‘I thought I will be reporting to Mr Shelby’ you said somewhat surprised, causing her to laugh.

‘Sweetheart, please don’t flatter yourself. You are here on your merit but no one new reports directly to Mr Shelby apart from me and Michael Grey. He only likes to deal with people he knows and trusts’ Lizzie said before handing you your office swipe card and a stack of files for you to look at it.

Just as you sat down and Lizzie took a seat right next to you, talking you through the accounting software the company uses, you saw Tommy enter the reception area.

He was accompanied by a tall blonde woman who was wearing expensive clothes and was carrying a Louis Vuitton handbag.

‘Who is this?’ you asked curiously, causing Lizzie to look up from the computer.

‘Elaine Sutton. Apparently, she is the flavour of the month. He likes attractive women who don’t talk much, which makes her perfect’ Lizzie chuckled, seemingly annoyed by the woman.

‘How did you become Mr Shelby’s personal assistant?’ you then asked and Lizzie chuckled again.

‘I’ve known Thomas since he was eighteen. I used to be married to his brother, John Shelby, before he passed away’ Lizzie said and you were surprised by her directness and openness about it.

‘Any more questions or can we get back to work now?’ she then said and you apologised to her immediately.

***

Throughout the day, you developed an investment scheme to lower the tax rates the company was otherwise required to pay in the next financial year. This was what you had mentioned to Tommy at the café and you assumed that it was what he wanted you to do when Lizzie handed you the relevant files.

As you were working through them one by one, you also became to notice that Tommy himself was quite the talking point between the women in the office.

His blue eyes, his expensive suits and what tie he was wearing was on today’s agenda in the lunchroom and you couldn’t help but be amused.

Then, all of a sudden, there was dead silence. The room went quiet and no one said a word as the man himself entered the lunch room.

‘Can I get you anything Mr Shelby?’ one of the service employees asked nervously.

‘Can you tell me where the cable ties are kept, please?’ he said in his low gruffy voice and, just when the employee nodded and told him that she would fetch some for him, he approached you.

‘Office attire suits you much better than coffee-stained clothes Y/N’ he observed, causing you to swallow harshly, smile and nod.

‘Thank you for the opportunity, Mr Shelby’ you stammered out in response just as the service clerk returned with some cable ties for Tommy and he walked off.

‘He knows your name’ a short brunette woman observed. ‘I’ve been working here for a year and he hasn’t even noticed me’ she then said before offering you a cup of tea which you gladly accepted.

‘Well, I spilled hot coffee onto him yesterday at the Coffee Bean Café across the road which probably made stick’ you said somewhat embarrassed, causing the woman to laugh before introducing herself to you.

Her name was Emily and she was also working in the business advisory department. Just like you, she was smart and nerdy and you knew that you would be getting along well.

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[ynscrazylife]

Spoilers

Not sure if you write for Melina from Black Widow but if you do could you please write a Melina x Reader where they are both locked in the cells in the red room and confess to each other and kiss

Destined to Lose | m.v fic

Summary: Melina recalls the love that she once shared with a Red Room agent years ago.

Authors Note: Thanks for requesting! Also, as the Red Room focuses on girls, the reader will be female.

Warning: Implications of some malnourishment. 

Request to be on a taglist (or multiple) here! (Taglists are at the end of the fic)

MCU Masterlist #1 | MCU Masterlist #2 |  Main Masterlist

PSA: Do NOT copy, steal, translate, plagiarize, republish, etc any of my works on Tumblr or any other platform. Also, do NOT claim any of my works as your own. All of these works are either requests I’ve gotten that people have wanted me to write or original ideas I’ve had for works. If you happen to take inspiration from anything I’ve written and want to write something inspired by that, please a) ask me first and b) IF I say yes, credit me as inspo in your post by tagging me and link whatever work of mine that inspired you. Thanks.

Ever since the Red Room had been stopped once and for all, there seemed to be the fragrance of calm in the air, washing over Mother Russia . . . or maybe it had just washed over Melina, Alexei, and Yelena, as everything had been shifted now. They were all free and had the opportunity to work on their shattered relationships - and to work on their shattered selves. Each one had coped in their own way, discovering and rediscovering their interests and who they were outside the Red Room, outside KGB.

One of the ways that Melina chose to heal was to take time for herself, and that included reading. More often than not, she’d be curled up in an armchair in the living room, entranced as her eyes swept over the ink printed on every page. The stories, whether they be fiction or non, always captivated her, and she soaked in every word.

That is the precise reason that despite being a highly trained and experienced spy, she didn’t notice that her youngest daughter was in the room until she piped up and spoke.

“Melina?”

Instantly the brunette was tugged from the faraway world she was in and her head snapped up, eyes holding a gaze of alarm for just a moment before they stilled. Melina took in Yelena’s state. The younger woman was standing confidently but her face told a different story. She was concentrating on something, Melina could tell from the way that her muscles were pulled, and there was an inner dialogue going on, troubling her.

“Yes, dear?” Melina said, carefully turning over the corner of the page and closing the book on her lap, as she could tell that this conversation wouldn’t be over in a minute.

“I had a question,” Yelena began, pausing for a moment and then sitting in the armchair across from her mother. She continued when she was comfortable. “-which you don’t have to answer.” She reeled in her worried gaze and made it more neutral.

Melina allowed her shoulders to slump into a relaxed posture and drew her bushy eyebrows together, her chin jutting down ever so slightly. “What is it?” She asked, the curiosity gnawing at her, since this wasn’t Yelena’s typical behavior.

Yelena seemed to be collecting her thoughts and, when she was finished, spoke in a delicate manner. “When I was looking at the Red Room’s files that Natasha got, I . . . I came across yours. It had said that you had been through the Red Room five times and . . . It mentioned someone named Y/N Y/L/N? I was wondering-” she cut herself off abruptly when she saw the solemn and serious look on her mother’s face.

The moment she heard that name, it struck something inside Melina. The memory, the feelings, it all came hurtling back with a force that had been absent for years. Y/N.

Y/N was the name that caused her stomach to twist and turn as the wound was ripped open. Y/N was the name that put a smile on her lips through the tears and reminded her how far she came when she was sad. Y/N was the name she thought of as a battle cry when she jumped into a fight against those Red Room agents. Y/N was the name she focussed on, like one would stare at a point on the wall to keep focus, as she got through the hardest times in her life, motivated her to push through with all her might.

With all those thoughts running through Melina’s head, she finally looked up, met Yelena’s gaze with her own, and parted her lips to tell her a story.

Melina had long since given up keeping track of the days at this point. There was no use, for by this time the days had all blurred into one. She could only differentiate the day and the night because every night is when someone with a deep frown on their face would walk in and give her a tray of food, and every morning was when someone else would arrive and take said tray away. She had barely moved from the position she sat in: back against the chain wall that seperated her cell and the one right next to hers and her knees drawn to her chest. She’d tune in to any sound she could hear and fixate.

She had been thrown into this cell because of her attempt to escape the Red Room. It wouldn’t be the first time she tried to escape, nor would it be the first time she sat in this cell, but it was the first time that she had gotten as far as she did, since she had help.

Melina could only wonder why she was here and Y/N wasn’t, and those wonderings always ended up with her conjuring thoughts and ideas that frightened her.

She ended up having the endless questions crawling at the back of her mind come to a halt when she heard pounding footsteps one day. Despite being in a tired haze, Melina snapped right out of it and became alert, watching and waiting with anticipation as their footsteps got closer, and closer, and closer.

The person - or people - belonging to those footsteps came into sight and Melina couldn’t stop the gasp before it escaped her lips when she saw what was happening.

A man, a Red Room agent, was practically dragging Y/N who was thrashing about, doing her best to put up a fight, but ultimately losing it when he carelessly tossed her into the cell next to Melina’s, locked the door, and walked away.

Only after his receding footsteps could be heard no more did Y/N look up from her tears, only for her eyes to widen and for her to lurch towards the chain wall, fingers grasping around it, when she laid eyes on Melina. Melina did the same and, after a little struggle, they managed to hold hands in a steel grip through the chain.

“Mel,” Y/N breathed, but her hoarse voice caused her to cough.

“Y/N,” Melina whispered, tightening her grip and scooting as close to the chain wall - as close to Y/N - as she could. “What happened? Are you hurt?”

Y/N let out a shaky sigh, alarming Melina, and rested her forehead against the chain. “I wasn’t thrown into the cell immediately because you’ve been through the Red Room five times now, but I haven’t. They wanted to train me more and they did their best, but when I kept on fighting them they decided to put me in here.” she answered tiredly.

Melina thought this over and let out a sigh of her own, but this was a sigh of relief. She was glad that she no longer had to worry about Y/N and thankful that Y/N was with her so she could make sure that nothing bad would happen to her.

After a couple moments of the silence beginning to creep in again, Melina decided that she needed to tell Y/N something. “I have to tell you something, love.”

Y/N looked up, a beautiful glint in her eyes telling that she was intrigued. God, Melina had missed seeing that look on her face.

“Don’t feel pressured to respond, just, after I’ve been away from you, I really, really have to say this: I . . . I love you,” Melina confessed, bravely meeting Y/N’s gaze.

Y/N blinked, but that glint did not go away. In fact, it seemed to get bigger, making the smile on her lips reach her eyes, and she squeezed Melina’s hands as best she could.

“I love you, too.”

Those four words were probably the softest words she had ever spoken, but they were beyond true.

Melina leaned forward and Y/N after a moment did too. They did their best and managed to meet each other with a kiss. The two cherished it - the kiss was sweet and simple and not over-the-top. Perfect. They each leaned back.

Then, the silence came again, but this time, to Melina, it was more comfortable.

“I have something to tell you, also”

Melina looked up, expecting the smile to still be on Y/N’s face, but it was faltering. She tilted her head to the side.

“I insisted to them that you not be put through the Red Room a sixth time. I’m not sure if they’re going to do anything, but I wanted to stop what they were doing to you and-”

“That you did. They’ve listened.”

Both looked up to see a Red Room agent standing outside Melina’s cell. He unlocked it and she instantly scurried back, but couldn’t do anything to prevent him from grabbing her and yanking her up. “Y/N!” She yelled as she was half-dragged, half-carried away.

Y/N sat up, banging on the chain. Tears started streaming down her face. It was happening far too fast. “MELINA!” She yelled. “I’M SORRY!”

There was fear in her voice. Oh, god, what had she done?

Melina paused for a moment, eyes focussed on Y/N as they went down the hall. She then said calmly, but with a firmness, “Don’t be!”

“And that was the last time I saw her,” Melina concluded her story, not meeting Yelena’s eyes, but with tears threatening to spill.

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[demonvampire180writes]

Groundhog Day Chapter 2

BuckTommy Fix-it Fic Rated: T

4,353 words

Find Whole Work on Ao3

Chapter 1 on Tumblr

No editor/editing

His eyes move rapidly beneath his closed eyelids. Bright, searing, light cuts right through them, turning the insides bright pink, red along the seam between his eyelashes and his cheeks. Groaning, he attempts to peel his eyes open, having to quickly close them again as sunlight from the sheer curtains suffuse the room, coloring it in a blinding hazy overlay. He lifts a heavy hand to scrub at his face, waiting for his vision to adjust before attempting to open his eyes once again.

He looks in confusion at his left hand as his vision comes into more clear focus, feeling like something is off. A feeling that keeps slipping through the tendrils of his mind niggles at the back of his brain, telling him that he shouldn’t have movement. He’d hurt it somehow. Badly. Bad enough that he likely needs surgery. Frowning, his eyebrows knit together as he flops back against the bed, arm dropping, and finally taking in the room. He doesn’t recognize it. The furniture is real red oak. He counts two full sized dressers. From his spot he sees the open closet door and notes that the entire walk-in is packed, front to back. The shoes lining the floor are neat, and clearly there’s two different sizes. The styles vary wildly. Some are obviously his, but he can’t recall where or when he bought them. There’s a few sweatshirts hanging off an over the door coat rack hanging on the front of the bathroom door, which shows a flawless white countertop and a gold finished faucet. A worn grey towel lays bunched up next to the toothbrush holder.

One side of his mouth quirks up in a confused expression and he throws his arm across his eyes, head pounding worse than it ever has before. Everything feels… Strange. He can’t draw on any memories. It’s like his memory bank is a blank slate, except that someone hadn’t bothered to wipe away all the chalk debris, leaving his mind spiraling. There’s something that his consciousness is trying desperately to cling to, to bring into focus, but the more he tries the more it floats away; the more the pounding in his temples grows to excruciating levels.

A click draws his attention, but before he can register where it came from, he’s pinned to the bed by a flailing set of limbs followed by an ear piercing giggle. “Daddy!” A little girl cries, straddling his stomach and bouncing up and down, causing him to wheeze. She isn’t exactly heavy but his diaphragm had already been compressed from breathing in. Her little hands slap at his chest as she continues giggling like someone has told the world’s funniest joke. “Daddy, daddy, daddy, wake up! Papa made breakfast! He made French toast!” Every sentence is exclaimed rather than explained.

Grabbing her wrists, he can wrap his long fingers around them twice if he really tries, he brings them to a halt and takes in her appearance. The moment he does the air feels like it’s taken from the room and the room is then vacuum sealed. She looks identical to Ev… to Buck. She’s got those light brown curls that could be argued in either direction of being blonde or brunette. Her eyes are a shocking blue that glitter in the early morning light, and make it look like she’s perpetually squinting. Her tiny little nose is long, and straight with nostrils that flare at the base just the smallest bit. Her skin is fair, but not pale. The only word Tommy can possibly use to sum her up is absolutely stunning. Does he have kids? The question has a sharp nail drilling into his temple, taking root, and he flinches. The young girl doesn’t seem to notice.

“Pipa, leave daddy alone. You’re going to hurt him.” A gently chiding voice trails after the bundle of sunshine. A voice that squeezes Tommy’s heart and makes the lump in his throat impassable. A familiar face trails in after it, large hands carrying a beautiful wooden breakfast tray with iron legs. The most heavenly smell wafts from the plate, and a tiny little vase with a single lilac decorates it.

“Nu-uh, cause daddy is a superhero and superheroes can’t get hurt.” She argues, sitting back as Tommy releases her hands. She looks up at E… Buck… with a pout. She’s adorable.

Buck sagely nods as he approaches, balancing the tray in one hand so he can brush her hair back from her face. “Okay, okay, you’re right. But you know what superheroes can get?”

“What?” She asks with excitement, bouncing on Tommy’s stomach yet again.

“Hungry.” He laughs, pinching her nose. She shrieks with laughter as she scuttles away, kicking Tommy in the kidney in her rush to get off the bed. “Now. Go down and start gathering your things for school. Jonah is almost ready.” Pipa sticks her tongue out, leaning forward with her hands on her hips before turning to flee out the door, calling the name that Tommy assumes belongs to another child.

Once alone, Tommy opens his mouth to comment about how cute she is, and to congratulate Buck on his kids, but what comes out instead is a choked, “Buck,” that borders on a downright sob. Wait. Why am I congratulating him? She called me ‘daddy’ so… She must be mine. Ours? The younger man stops in his tracks, brows furrowing and hands clenching hard onto the breakfast tray.

“T-Tommy?” He sounds hurt. Confused. “I… Did I do something wrong?”

He pushes himself into a sitting position, leaning against the headboard, noting that he is… incredibly naked. He pulls the top sheet up just a little more as if seeking a modicum of privacy from a man who’s seen more of him than his doctor. “No?” He answers, just as confused.

Taking the few steps left to cover the distance to the head of the bed, Buck sets the tray down across Tommy’s lap and he’s immediately salivating. There’s freshly made thick cut brioche French toast stacked two high, covered in what is most definitely homemade lemon whipped cream, blueberries and sliced strawberries, and absolutely drenched in real maple syrup. Tommy’s blood sugar skyrockets through the heavenly smell alone.

The smallest whine escapes from Buck’s lips. “Okay then, why did you call me Buck? You only call me that when you’re mad at me.”

The simple sentence triggers yet another reaction and Tommy grabs his head, gritting his teeth. “Gah, shit. You’re right. I’m sorry, Evan. I guess it just slipped out.” He’s glad Buck didn’t say anything about the way Tommy had spoken his name, like a broken plea of a dying man. Reaching out he grabs Evan’s forearm and pulls him down until he kisses him softly on the lips, lingering for just a second to bask in the feeling of them. 

When he pulls away, Evan asks, “Are you feeling okay? You look like you’re in pain.”

“I’m fine, babe. Thanks. I just need some food.” The lie comes so easily.

Evan beams, panic forgotten. “Okay. Take your time eating, we’re up pretty early. I’ll get the kids mostly ready for school. Love you.”

“Love you, too.” It wasn’t his head this time but his heart that felt like it was being speared. How could two little words cause him to experience so many different emotions at once?

That was a question for another time.

Watching the other man leave, swaying his hips just to mess with Tommy, he picks up his fork and digs into what has to be the most amazing breakfast he’s ever put in his mouth. Every piece is cooked to perfection. No notes to be had. As soon as he finishes, he swings his legs over the bed and stretches. He’s still confused but there’s not much he can do at this point except to roll with the punches.

Moving at a snail’s pace, he goes through the motions of getting ready; he picks out jeans and a loose fitting henley, throwing his beige Carhartt over top. In the bathroom he does a cursory brushing of his teeth and takes the electric razor to the scruff that’s getting just a little bit out of control. He runs some water through his hair to try and tame the curls though it’s to no real avail. Taking a moment to contemplate shoes, he decides to take his chances that there’s some downstairs.

As he navigates what he can only assume is a house, he realizes that there’s nothing he recognizes. There’s four doors on this landing; two of them are covered in giant bubble letters, one spelling out Pipa and the other Jonah, along with a handful of poorly done crayon drawings. No artists in this house it seems. One leads into what has to be his and Evan’s room, and the final one appears to be the kids bathroom. He peers in as he goes to descend the stairs, grinning at the matching pink and green child sized step stools, and the giant frog shaped bath mat. The counter is a disaster, but an organized one. Definitely Evan’s doing.

From downstairs he hears the sound of two young kids trying their best to talk dad out of going to school. Evan’s voice guides them patiently, pointing out that going to school means getting to see all of their friends and that seems to settle them. Tommy rounds the corner and comes face to face with a little boy that could have been Evan thirty years ago, right down to the small port wine birthmark above his eyebrow. Seeing him, the boy shows him a gap tooth grin as he wraps himself like a koala around Tommy’s leg. “Daddy!” Evan shakes his head, exasperated but fond.

“Morning Jonah.” Tommy leans down and scoops the boy effortlessly into his arms, settling him onto one cocked hip as he leans in and begins to scrub his scruff along the little boy's flawless cheek. Jonah giggles and squeals in protest, feet kicking as he pushes at Tommy’s shoulders, trying to get away. Giving himself another thirty seconds of torture by scruff, Tommy pulls back and plants a kiss on his left eyebrow. “Are you giving papa trouble?” He raises his own eyebrow in question, looking stern.

Looking a little guilty, Jonah replies, “I’m not daddy, promise.”

“So you’re getting ready like he’s asked you to?” Jonah’s eyes drift to the side, clearly trying to come up with a plausible lie. “You know we have to go to school to learn, so we can be smart, right?” He nods sullenly. “And like he said, you’ll get to see all your friends, and you want to play with your friends, right?” Once again he nods. Smiling Tommy gives him a hard squeeze and another kiss, this one to the forehead before letting him slide to the floor, landing on his feet. “Well then, let’s finish getting ready so you can see them sooner.” Jonah clings to his shirt for just a second before nodding and running to where Pipa is throwing shoes every which direction.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” Evan’s voice comes from behind him and he turns, just in time for him to wrap his arms around Tommy’s neck, playing with a loose curl at the nape of his neck. Flustered, he blushes and remains silent. Chuckling, Evan sighs, “Well, I’ve got to get to work so you’re on drop off duty and pick up duty the next few days. I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you, too.” The words come so easily. The earlier headache has completely faded, though the sense of offness still pulls at his senses. “Have a good shift.”

“Thanks. Have a great day.” Leaning in, Evan smacks a kiss to his lips before turning and trundling away towards a door Tommy doesn’t see from where he is. There’s the sound of a garage door lifting, and a few moments later closing shut. The man’s departure is followed by the disgruntled voices of their children, whining about ewwwwwwww, daddy and papa kissed! And then a brief argument about cooties and how, because both of them were boys, they can’t pass cooties because only girls have them. Pipa is quite offended by this, but she heartily agrees that her daddy and papa don’t have cooties so it’s all fine. Child logic.

The next thirty minutes are pure chaos. At one point Pipa begins to sob and scream, having the kind of melt down only a six year old can have. Kneeling, Tommy cups her face in his hands, quietly shushing her as he thumbs away her tears. “Pipa, it’s okay to feel your big emotions, but we should try not to feel them quite so loud, okay?” She whimpers and nods. “Okay so, can you tell daddy what’s wrong?”

“I-I-I c-can-n-’t find my s-shoe!” She wails, sniffling as snot dribbles down over her quivering lip.

He nods in understanding. “Okay. Does it have to be those shoes today?” She nods emphatically as bigger, fatter, tears start to build in her eyes. “Well then, since you’ve searched all by yourself and can’t find it, what do you think your next step should be?” She turns away with that lethal Buckley pout in place and shrugs. Using his pointer and index finger, he turns her head back to him. “When we’re in trouble, we should ask for help, isn’t that right?” She shrugs again, bottom lips trembling even more as she sniffs her mucus back up. Tommy suppresses a shudder. “Have you asked Jonah to help you find it?” She shakes her head. “Did you try asking me to help you find it?” Pausing, she reluctantly shakes her head yet again. “So, what do you think we should do?”

Chest heaving, she takes her time answering. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Tommy knows they’re running late. The receptionist will probably yell at him, but that’s okay. Being late one day doesn’t make them bad. When she still doesn’t answer, he gently prompts her again. Eyes downcast she eventually whispers, “Daddy?”

“Yes baby?” He tucks a wayward curl behind her ear.

“Can you help me look for my shoe? Please?” His heart melts at her remembered manners, even in her time of distress.

“Absolutely baby girl. Now. If we can’t find it in the next few minutes, do you think we can maybe find a compromise?” She looks like she desperately wants to start throwing another tantrum but she tamps it down, clearly wanting to behave like a big girl, and nods. “Good girl. Now, I’ll go look in the front closet, and you can keep going through your pile over here. How does that sound?” A nod. “I want you to go through it very carefully, alright? Make sure you’re looking at each shoe and not just throwing it aside. I’ll give us three minutes.” He pulls her in and nuzzles the crown of her head with his nose which elicits the desired result of the smallest, most infinitesimal, giggle. Letting her go, he makes a show of setting a timer on his phone. Jonah wanders over and places a hand on his sister's shoulder, frowning. He clearly isn’t happy that she’s unhappy.

“Alright, are you ready?” He makes his voice as jovial as possible, attempting to make it seem like a competition and not a chore. She nods and he counts down from three before shouting, “Go!” He turns and stutters when it takes his mind a second to remember where the front closet even is. He’s beginning to think something is wrong with his head. He’s not even fifty yet and he’s experiencing memory problems. That’s not normal.

Jonah crouches next to Pipa and holds up the shoe she’s trying to match as Pipa picks up each shoe and carefully examines it, taking way more time than she probably should to ensure it’s not the right shoe. Tommy’s gone through about ten different shoes when the timer eventually goes off and he hears a frustrated huff over his shoulder. “I didn’t find it, daddy.” She stomps her foot as Jonah wraps her in a hug, trying to console her. “I don’t want to wear different shoes.” She’s on the verge of another breakdown.

Making a split second decision, Tommy studies the shoe and dives back into the closet, exclaiming, “Ah ha!” when he finds what he’s looking for. Pulling the pair of shoes from the closet, he approaches his daughter and crouches, dangling them in front of her. “Now. I know these aren’t your unicorn shoes. And I know that you’re upset that they’re not what you want to wear today, but how about this. Today, you can wear your princess shoes, they look really similar, right? And then when we’re all home tonight, the whole family can go on a safari hunt for the mighty missing shoe. How does that sound?”

Her pout gets more pronounced and she softly stamps her foot, knees bouncing up and down as she gets further riled up. She wants to argue, to make a scene, but after a very long moment she nods and pitifully sniffles. “Okay, daddy.”

“Good girl.” Tommy pulls her into a very quick hug before bending down the rest of the way to help her slip the shoes on. “Jonah.” He says, as he’s strapping the velcro on the second shoe, “let���s start heading to the car. We’re already running late.”

“Okay!” He chirps, throwing a backpack the length of his torso over one shoulder and bolting from the room, taking the the corner like a Tokyo drifter, squealing as his sockless feet slip a bit on the hardwood floors, The practically empty bag bounces against his back so loudly Tommy hears it all the way out the door.

The two of them meet him out by the car a minute later, Tommy having found a pair of white “dad” shoes on a mat by the exit. Jonah has already crawled into his booster seat in the back, kicking his feet as he waits for Tommy to clip him in. Pipa goes around the back and gets in on the other side, skillfully buckling herself in, beaming at Tommy with pride at a job well done. The shoe debacle seems to be long forgotten. Another shiver of unease inches down his spine as he gets behind the wheel of a vehicle that doesn’t seem quite right.

They arrive at the school, Tommy truly believes that he drove there on instinct because he doesn’t think he’s ever seen this place before in his life, with about three minutes before the first bell. Hustling them out of the still running vehicle, he puts his one hand between each set of shoulder blades and speed walks them into the building. As soon as they’re in the doors he leans in and kisses each of them on their heads before ushering them off. He can’t help the smile on his face as he watches their teacher herd them into the room just as the bell rings. Sighing, he lifts his hand to wave at the receptionist before trudging back to the car.

Then, on instinct, he navigates his way through the atrocious downtown LA traffic to Harbor. Pulling up to the building, he parks his SUV in a spot marked “Employee Only” and hops out. The weather is comfortably warm and the sun that attempted eviscerating his eyes this morning still shone brightly overhead. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he walks around to the front of the building where all the bay doors are open wide, pilots streaming in and out; he doesn’t recognize any of them. Maybe they’re new hires.

But they seem to know what they’re doing, and where they’re going.

His head pulses again.

As he’s walking through a field of choppers likely out on the tarmac for cleaning, he stops at the sound of his name from an unfamiliar female voice. “Tommy?” Turning, he spots a somewhat younger brunette woman with a tattered towel, that was probably once white now turned cream colored, in hand. The door of the helicopter she’s working on is swung wide, and he scents glass cleaner on the air. The window has a sudsy diagonal streak across it. “What are you doing here?” She doesn’t seem upset, sounding pleasantly surprised in fact, and she gives him a smile wide enough to show off all her teeth.

“Oh, you know.” He replies, face scrunching into a familiar grin with the crows feet that made everyone's tongue wag. “Something made me feel like I had a shift today.” She chuckles as she drops her rag into the bucket at her feet and mirrors his casual stance, hands in her pockets.

The grin fades when she realizes that Tommy is serious. “Um.” Her brows knit. “Are you feeling okay?”

He cocks his head to the side like a curious crow, smile fading a smidge. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

She shrugs. “Well, because… Did you just forget that you retired six years ago? You know, since your husband took over as captain at the 118?”

Buck is captain? That doesn’t sound right. The nail in his temple again. Wincing, he feigns being alright and says, “Oh. Yeah.” He forces a chuckle. “It was chaotic getting the kids ready for school this morning, so it must’ve just skipped my mind.”

Her hunched shoulders relax. “Oh I bet. Twins are hard. It’s a good thing that Captain Buckley is able to support y’all. I imagine the pay raise he got once he got the promotion probably helps a whole lot.”  Tommy notices the southern twang; not Texas or the like but from the Carolina’s maybe, or the Virginia's. East coast southern.

“Absolutely. Anyway, I guess I’ll just head out then and let you get back to work.” He lifts a hand in a wave, turning.

“Don’t be a stranger, now. And don’t forget to say hi to the guys! We miss you.” She says, voice muffling as she dips behind the chopper door. He doesn’t turn around as he jauntily waves goodbye, sauntering back to the car in a daze.

On the way back, he opens the windows and drives in contemplative silence. There’s something off. So off. But every time he tries to pin down just what it is his head cries out like it’s stuck in a Jigsaw level trap. At the house that he once more drove back to on instinct, the neighborhood is different than any area he remembers living in, he pulls into the garage, closes the door, shuts the vehicle off, and simply slips into what can only be described as a dissociative state. Tommy stays that way, staring at the dingy garage wall in a trance for no less than forty minutes, the engine clicking as it cools, tires whining as they settle.

When he manages to snap out of it, he exits the vehicle and enters the house. With something else taking over his movements, he slips his shoes off, leaving them on a rug by the garage door, and goes into the kitchen to make a snack. Afterwards, he makes his way into the living room where the kids' toys are scattered haphazardly around the space. It’s only then that he notices a fat blob of fur curled up on one end of the couch, the end with the deepest divet that must mean it’s someone's favorite spot. Against the far wall is a rusty colored blob shape with large, greying floppy ears, the animal's chest rising and falling with each of its snuffles and snorts. The sight brings a smile to his face; Tommy always wanted animals but never had the time to take care of them. Something in his chest eases at the sight. Setting his snack down, he proceeds to pick up his kids' toys, placing them where they belong, before settling into the couch. As soon as he sits, the black blob of fur morphs into the shape of a sleek cat who languidly stretches before crawling into his lap as though he’s doing Tommy a favor.

Tommy sets his plate on the arm rest, picks up the remote to find a game, before settling his hand on the cat's head and mentally preparing for what’s likely going to be a very boring day. Tommy’s never done well with downtime, and considering he can’t even remember how he got in bed last night, he questions how he’s managing to survive retirement.

The rest of the day flies by in an absolute blur; before he knows it it’s just after three and he’s off to pick up the kids. Two hours later he’s feeding them dinner before he wrestles them into the tub for a bath. Then he’s tucking Jonah into bed, kissing him on the forehead and wishing him a goodnight, followed by Pipa and her insisting that Tommy read her no fewer than two storybooks to which he greedily obliges. This house can use another reader and Pipa is showing signs of books being her favorite thing in the whole wide world.

When the house is quiet once again, Tommy crawls into his own bed, picking up the book on the side table, his reading glasses perched on the end of his nose. He only makes it about ten pages before he finds himself distracted by the framed photo of their wedding day; Evan is decked out in the most beautiful ocean blue suit Tommy’s ever laid eyes on. Their lips are pressed together with Evan pulling Tommy in by the face.

Tommy sinks into the bed, shimmying out of his sweats to grab himself, whimpering as he wraps his fingers around the sensitive member. Reaching over, he turns off the light before things go too far, draping the room in darkness.

Tommy falls asleep after burying two fingers deep inside himself as he jerks off, thoughts of blonde eyed brunette the only thing on his mind.

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