#coconuts music movies

[musicmags]

[bratsygirlsworld]

50 First Dates

My comfort movie <3

[presleypictures]

Elvis and Scatter in the 1960s.

Scatter was the star attraction on a television show, hosted by "Cap'n Bill" Killebrew. He even had his own Club Scatter, well known by children. In 1961, the guys from the Memphis Mafia found out that Bill no longer wanted the chimpanzee on the show, and they told Elvis, who bought it from Bill. That's how Elvis adopted his new pet. 

He was trained and knew how to do all kinds of tricks and stunts. He lived several years in Graceland. But being constantly surrounded by Elvis's entourage was not the best environment for a little monkey, and Scatter quickly developed bad habits. 

He was like one of the Memphis Mafia. A very intelligent animal, but very conflictive. When a girl got up to go to the bathroom, for example, he would run and hide behind the bathroom door. And in a minute, Elvis and his boys knew they'd hear a bloodcurdling scream and see the girl shoot out of there screaming, and Scatter running after her.

He was dedicated to looking under the skirts of the girls. He also had a habit of biting people, including members of the Mafia.

Marty Lacker recalls: “We came home one night on Bellagio Road and found that Scatter had bitten Jimmy, the butler, real bad. Elvis was furious. Jimmy and Lillian were all upset and yelling and threatening to quit if Elvis didn't get rid of him.

Scatter was upset too. We kept him in the basement, underneath the steps, and Alan tried to get him to go downstairs to his cage, and he wouldn't.

Elvis finally calmed down, and he walked up to Scatter and he stood over him. Scatter was on top of his cabinet, and he looked up at Elvis with those innocent eyes, and all Elvis did was stare at him, trying to keep a straight face.

Finally, Elvis said, “You coconut-headed little mother fucker, you'd better get downstairs in your cage. And you'd better not bite anyone anymore, either.”

Scatter hopped off the cabinet, and he slowly walked downstairs like a man going to the electric chair, with his hands folded in front of him. We all followed him. Alan put his hand out for Scatter to hold it, but he wouldn't do it. He had too much pride. He just marched down to the basement and right into the cage. We came upstairs, and Elvis fell on the floor laughing.”

[stellarspecter]

SING THE BEGINNING OF MOANA

[coconutkay]

roomie and i just watched both suzume and your name/kimi no na wa for the first time

and! our unpopular but objectively correct opinion: suzume was way better than your name

[kargmc]

I'M A COCONUT

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

[sweetheartsaku]

(BLLK) wherever u go i won't be far to follow

𝜗𝜚 BLUE LOCK VARIOUS: LILLIES.

a/n: [fem!reader] GAIS GAIS GAIS dew we fw the bllk posts 🤤it seems yes!!!!!! sorry for the tag !!@infpdoll @amelielovess for u<3

— characters: chigiri, rin, bachira

part one ! ♡ isagi, kunigami, nagi, reo

chigiri hyoma ; H.S.K.T - leehi, wonstein

can we imagine him sitting on the bathroom counter as you gently massage the jade roller across his face after a face mask. his hair is freshly washed (you brushed it 100 times on each side) so the room smells like peony and coconut, shower is foggy and little bits of his crimson baby hairs seeping out of his headband (〃´𓎟`〃) don't forget to kiss his forehead!!!!!!!!

gives the best?? massages???? maybe it's because of his high maintenance leg, used to doing it on himself so when you groan in pain after a scenic date, he most definitely wastes no time rubbing all the sore out of your legs

PEAK of his day is when he first wakes up and you guys brush your teeth next to each other, he knows sooner or later he'll be under your grasp as your thumb lightly rubs under his eye, rubbing away all excess sleep while your other hand runs through his hair.

secret kpop stan chigiri... totally not self-projecting HUH WHAT WHO SAID THAT what is a kpop stan uhm ! is a gg stan, gets defensive when someone discredits his faves and most DEFO a kiss of life (julie biased), le serrafim (sakura biased) and itzy (yuna biased) fan. probably owns a twt fan acc, i said what i said 🥰

by the way, don't tell him you notice when blush graces his face when you delicately graze the side of your finger across his lashes.

rin itoshi ; soft spot - keshi

rin itoshi who goes completely quiet when it comes to you. not because he secretly doesn't like you or anything, but quite the opposite (=´∇｀=) ! when he sees you, he's completely speechless and ends up staring at the girl who just stole his heart (for an uncomfortably large amount of time). when he sees almost anybody, he always has some sort of venom to spit but when he sees you, he can barely find any words for love 🥹

FACE MASK VICTIM NO.2 !!!!! lowkey flinches a little (affectionate) because he more used to the hot eye masks he gets at the convenience store, when the cold peach mask makes contact with his face, he gets a lil shiver nd' it's the cutest thing

idc how generic i sound HORROR MOVIE DATES!!!!!!!! i'm so here for horror nerd rin, i find it the cutest thing on earth and i just just just. waiter waiter one glass of rin please ! if you're scared (me), he tells you when there's a jump scare and covers your eyes when there's gore or when there's a freakazoid on screen

loves to sit in silence and play horror games too, whether it be the bathhouse, platform 8, as long as it's with you <3 secret valo/splatoon sweat

face scrunch when you push his bangs back n' give him a peck at the crown of his hair (;´□｀)/! not a physically affectionate guy but with instincts as sharp as his you wonder why he just lets you pepper his face with kisses...

baby face.

bachira meguru ; never ever getting rid of me - waitress, the musical

HUGS FROM BEHIND!!!🥹 puts his hands in front of your eyes and tells you to "guess who!!!" but not in a super senior way but more like a "y/nie y/nie guess who guess who!!!!!" way. he's such a cutie patoot i'm dead

music taste range is INSANNEEE biggest fan of babymetal, knows every lyric to hitorie or 2019 genre gacha sabrina carpenter die-hard, white girl radio enjoyer i don't make the rules (me too bachira, me too.)

LOCKS IN AT THE ARCADE (he hasn't won anything yet. key word YET!!). his attention span per machine is very limited but tries his absolute hardest into getting a plush he noticed your eyes wouldn't stray from and stays there for a while, persuaded he's guaranteed to get it. "look, look y/n!!! it's right there i'm sure i can get it. one more try?" same with gachapons. how can you not love this man

PDA lowkey isn't a thing and tackles you when he feels fit. loves to spin you around and does not give a damn if you have two left feet, an unconditional loverboy and is just the cutest (precious) (ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ.ﾟ

i am going to bake him into a cupcake.

matching absolutely everything!!! keychains, exchanged shoe laces, patches, bracelets. on the topic of fashion he love love loves when you wear things that are a little odd (this is for the fashion girlies) like mismatching tights, oddly coloured charms on necklaces and/or chunky glasses :3

finds minion facebook memes and laughs.

[g-n-c-quoi]

went to a Big Gay Party last night called sapphic factory and it was the first time i’ve ever been at an event specifically curated for lesbians (and other queers but it was mostly dykes) and here are some things that made me happy about that experience

- a femme dancing for her butch and the butch visibly being unable to handle it. like trying SO hard to maintain composure

- HOT TO GO! coming on and the entire dance floor doing the dance

- taking a picture of the crowd and accidentally getting this really cute couple in the foreground and coming up to them with a little note explaining in my notes app and airdropping them the photo

- a butch taking off their shirt and grabbing their chest to coconuts by kim petras

- same butch as above walking around a fire after going too close to it and saying “I’M NOT THAT BUTCH FUCK YOU”

- SAME BUTCH absolutely BOOKING IT from the patio to the dance floor when red wine supernova came on

- a handful of twinks just absolutely vibing throughout the entire night

- a couple that very obviously had some kind of d/s dynamic going on and the dom told the sub to go on ahead to the dance floor while he got them drinks

- the dj having a projection on the wall behind them of a supercut of a bunch of scenes from lesbian movies and music videos by queer women

- a woman dancing by herself when i got there who was the reason i gained the confidence to go out there and dance myself after standing on the wall with my water cup in hand for twenty minutes

- the crude bathroom graffiti of ass cheeks on the inside of a stall door

- a butch having the suicide hotline on the back of their battle jacket

- multiple couples dancing with just each other not giving a singular damn shit or fuck about anyone else

can’t wait to do it all again next year !!

[cjlouwho]

You're a Piece of My Soul I Can't Let Go

10.5k; read below or on ao3; tags: presumed dead (no actual major character death), angst, hurt/comfort, anxiety, panic, flashbacks, smut, witness protection, secret service

Buck didn't cry at the funeral.

It's not that he wasn't sad. He was heartbroken beyond repair.

The tears simply wouldn't fall.

He didn't show much emotional at all. Didn't listen to the speeches people gave. Didn't react when someone would give him a hug or a pat on the back. Didn't care about the words of encouragement by people who had no clue what it felt like to lose someone.

“Time will heal.”

“He's an angel now.”

“God needed him more.”

“Life goes on.”

“Hold yourself together for him.”

It was all bullshit.

The burial wasn't much different. He sat, unmoving, from his chair in the front row. Held out his hands when he presented with the folded flag. Heard the sniffs and cries from the people around him, but he remained stoic.

Nothing about this felt right.

There was a reception afterward at Bobby and Athena's place. Buck, wanting nothing to do with the limo that was reserved for family, had driven his Jeep to the cemetery.

He told Bobby he'd meet them at their place. Let Bobby wrap him in another hug before he left.

He didn't go to Bobby's.

Didn't want to talk to all those people. He had no desire to hear them laugh as they told stories about Tommy. They'd never know him like he did.

He went home instead. Back to the place he and Tommy shared.

It was Tommy's house, originally. Then Buck had moved in only five months into them dating. It seemed crazy at the time, but it worked. They were engaged two months later, married six months after that.

Four months of marriage. That's all they'd gotten. The ring around Buck's finger still felt new, and it was already over.

Seventeen months total. The best seventeen months of Buck's life.

And it was all gone.

Buck walked into the house that screamed Tommy, Tommy, Tommy everywhere he looked. There was the couch they had picked out together. The lamp that Tommy had knocked off the table twice, yet somehow never broke. The kitchen where they realized they were far too old to be having sex on a countertop. The clock on the wall that played obnoxious music every hour that Buck hated but Tommy loved, so it was only ever on if Buck had to work and Tommy was at home.

His houseplants he killed regularly.

The TV they splurged on because Tommy both loved watching movies and loved watching Buck watch movies.

The bedroom, two nightstands. One side almost empty because all Buck needed was a lamp and a spot for his phone at night. The other side with a lamp, charger, reading glasses, chapstick, and a glass of water that now had a thin film of dust covering the top.

Buck toed off his shoes and walked to the bed, lying down. He pulled his phone from his pocket and silenced it before setting it on his nightstand. He didn't want to be bothered. Maddie could see his location, would know he was fine. That was enough.

He curled onto his side, facing Tommy's side of the bed. He tugged at Tommy's pillow, moving it so it rested lengthwise against his body. He snuggled it tightly. Closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of Tommy's shampoo and cologne, still fresh on the pillowcase.

He fell into a dreamless sleep.

Nothing about this felt right.

“What's the matter?” Tommy asked immediately upon entering the kitchen. Buck had his eyebrows drawn tightly together as he stared at a can of coconut milk. That was never a good sign.

“I got the wrong thing,” Buck pouted. “I was supposed to get coconut cream and I picked up the milk.”

“I'm guessing they're not interchangeable?”

Buck gave him a look that asked the question, “Are you crazy?” without saying a word.

“Right.” Tommy began searching the room for his keys, “I will go get you your coconut cream.”

“No, I can get it,” Buck put the can down and headed for the stove. “I'll let Bobby know dinner will be a little late,” he said, switching off a couple of the burners, “and then-”

Buck was cut off by Tommy wrapping his arms around his waist, pressing a kiss to his temple. “You keep cooking,” he insisted, “I'll get the cream.”

Buck smiled softly, leaning further into Tommy's touch. “You sure?”

“I'm sure.”

Buck turned his head for a kiss on the lips before Tommy unraveled himself from him.

“Keys?” Tommy asked.

“Coffee table.”

“Right! Thank you. Love you, Babe. Be right back.”

“Love you too.”

Three days was all the bereavement pay a city employee was allotted after the death of a family member. Bobby had managed to space out Buck's shifts enough to give him seven days before he had to dip into his vacation time.

It didn't matter anyway. He hadn't used his vacation days in a long time. Had been saving them for a long roadtrip with...

It didn't matter. He didn't need those vacation days anymore.

A part of him had thought about going back to work. He had gotten dressed and everything. Had his keys and was headed out the door. He couldn't seem to make it past the doorframe.

He typed a simple text to Bobby, taking vacation day, silenced his phone and got back into bed. Bed, bathroom, kitchen, bed, bathroom, kitchen, the same path for the next week.

People would come to the door, knock and knock and knock, but he made no effort to let them in.

When they'd text, he'd respond so they knew he was alive, but also knew to leave him alone.

I need some time, he'd text them, please let me have time to myself.

That worked for a while, until Eddie decided to screw it all and use the spare key he had to let himself in.

“Buck?” he called out as he gently opened the front door. “Buck, you here?”

He walked into the dark house, all the curtains drawn and not a single light on. After peeking into the kitchen and living room, he made his way to the bedroom. The door was cracked, so he nudged it open until he could see Buck lying on the bed, facing away from the door.

He was under the covers, cuddling a pillow close to him.

“Buck?” Eddie whispered.

He waited a few seconds and was just about to head out to the living room until Buck woke up, when he heard a, “Hm?”

“You awake?”

“I'm not a sleep talker,” Buck muttered grumpily. He turned just enough to look at Eddie. “Why're you here?”

“To check on you.”

Buck folded himself back over the pillow, closing his eyes. “Told you I'm fine.”

“Yeah... don't really believe you, bud.” Eddie walked over to the other side of the bed so he could face Buck. Sunlight peeked through the curtains enough for Eddie to see that, surprisingly, Buck didn't look like he'd been crying.

He just looked tired. Staying in bed for two weeks could do that to a person.

“Come on, Buck,” Eddie said, “let's go out to the living room. Get you something to eat.”

“Already ate,” Buck mumbled into the pillow.

“When?”

Buck sighed. “What time is it?”

“Three o'clock in the afternoon.”

“What day is it?”

“Thursday.”

Reluctantly, Buck sat up in bed, sending a glare to Eddie. “I ate at one.”

Eddie crossed his arms. “On what day?”

God, Buck hated when he got all parental with him. Made him feel like a child. “Wednesday.”

“Up,” Eddie demanded, snapping his fingers. “Now.”

Buck was too tired to fight him. He knew the quicker he went along, ate whatever Eddie wanted him to eat, talked about whatever Eddie wanted him to talk about, he could get him out of his house.

He pulled the covers off of him and got out of bed, scooting his feet as he walked into the living room and plopped down on the couch.

Eddie couldn't help but noticed how much weight Buck had lost over the last couple of weeks. It made him feel awful for waiting so long to force himself into Buck's home. He was trying to be respectful. Trying to give Buck the space he kept requesting. He'd get those texts from Buck every time he knocked on the door, and he'd leave because he was asked to. That's what they'd all been doing. He knew now that was a mistake.

“I don't wanna eat much,” Buck said, staring straight ahead at the TV.

“I already ordered some wonton soup from China Wok. It'll be here in a minute.” Eddie sat on the other end of the couch. “Talk to me, Buck. Please.”

“About?”

“Anything.”

Buck's eyes scanned the living room. Dead flowers were scattered around, all sent somewhere between the day after Tommy's body was found up until a few days ago. Buck had managed to bring them into the house, just so no one called in a wellness check on him, but he didn't bother with keeping them alive.

What was the point? They'd die eventually anyway.

“I haven't dreamt since he... since they... you know.”

Eddie was thrown off guard by the admission, expecting it to be harder for Buck to confide in him. “None at all?”

He shook his head. “Nope. Used to. Used to have a lot of dreams. Not anymore.”

“Buck, I know what it's like to-”

“Don't,” Buck interrupted, looking at Eddie for the first time since they sat down. “Please, I- I've gotten so many 'I know what you're going through' texts from people and it doesn't help.”

Eddie nodded. “I understand.”

Buck turned his attention down to his hands, thumbs twiddling together nervously. “Can I- Can I tell you something really dumb?”

“Sure!” Eddie exclaimed, trying to lighten the mood a bit. “I love hearing dumb things.”

Buck managed a small smile. It faded faster than it had appeared. “I- Sometimes it doesn't feel, um, feel real to me. Like, I don't believe he's gone. That, um, that feeling that you get when someone has- when they've died. I- I don't have that.”

“Accepting it's happened is one of the hardest things to do, Buck. That's normal.”

“I haven't even cried,” Buck admitted. “Not since the day I was told he... he was gone.”

“That's normal too.”

Eddie didn't understand. Buck knew he wouldn't. “I don't know,” he breathed out, more to himself than to Eddie.

“Don't know what?”

The doorbell rang, pulling them out of their discussion. Buck was grateful. He didn't feel like talking anymore.

“Ready to eat?” Eddie asked, clapping his hands together as he got up and headed for the door.

“Mhm,” Buck lied. He leaned his head back on the couch and closed his eyes. He just needed to get through this meal, then Eddie would leave, and he could go back to bed.

He needed to get back to bed.

“It doesn't make any sense to me. At all.”

“You're not letting this go anytime soon, are you?”

“They didn't end up together in the end, Evan! Why'd they even say the movie was a romantic comedy? What's the point?”

Buck reached over and took Tommy's hand from where it rested on the center console. “I think they did it on purpose,” he surmised, “to spite you.”

“I agree, those bastards.”

“If it makes you feel any better,” Buck gave Tommy's hand a squeeze, “they are fictional, so you know, they didn't really mind that they weren't together in the end.”

“Hm.” Tommy thought for a moment before shaking his head. “No, that doesn't make me feel any better at all.”

Buck shrugged. “I tried.”

“They had everything planned, Evan,” Tommy said, continuing his rant. “They had their whole future planned and they threw it all away in the end? Ugh, I can't.”

“Maybe it was to show that she found herself, you know, without him. That's not a bad thing.”

“It's not a bad thing at all, if I'm properly warned that that's what the movie is going to be about. It is a bad thing when you call the movie a romantic comedy.”

“Is there someone we should be writing a strongly worded letter to?” Buck asked, a cheeky grin on his face.

Tommy shot a meaningless glare in his direction. “You joke now, but I wasn't the only one crying in the theater.”

“Who said I was joking?” Buck asked. “I- I love a strongly worded letter. We can whip out some paper and a pen the second we get home.”

Buck could feel Tommy's body start to relax. His face softened as he stole another glance at Buck before turning back to the road. “I love that you're my husband.”

Buck brought Tommy's hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “I love that you're mine.”

Buck stared down at his wedding band. It had been a month now. A month since he'd last seen Tommy. A month and five days since their last date.

“Buck... Buck?”

Buck looked up to Hen watching him from across the truck. They were on their way to a call. Some small fire in the middle of nowhere with no people around. It'd be an easy call. Buck was grateful for that. This would be his fourth shift back at work, although it was his first full 24-hour one.

“Yeah?” he asked, ignoring the fact that Chimney and Eddie were giving him side glances as well.

“You good?”

He'd be angry at the question if anyone else had asked. He knew his temper was shorter than it ever used to be. Knew even the smallest things could set him off. He often had to force himself to stay calm. Take some deep breaths and count to ten before responding to someone.

He didn't have to do that with Hen though. Her voice was soothing to him. A calm against the stormy sea that was his mind.

Buck nodded. “I'm good.”

“You want in?”

He paused, dumbfounded. He had no idea what she was talking about. “In on what?”

“We're placing bets on what caused the fire,” Chimney explained. “I said kids smoking in the woods.”

“I'm going with the sun beating down on a glass bottle.” Eddie looked proud of his choice.

“Old fashioned illegal campfire for me.” Hen smiled softly at Buck. “You?”

“Oh, um, nah. I- I'm good.”

“Oh come on,” Eddie reached over and nudged Buck's knee. “Take a guess.”

Buck took a deep breath. Thought for a moment. “Fireworks, I- yeah. Fireworks.”

“In the middle of the day?” Chimney questioned.

Hen shrugged. “Wouldn't be the first time. Okay, Cap,” she said, fiddling with her headset, “what about you?”

Buck phased back out as Bobby made his guess. He tugged at his ring, twirling it around and around on his finger. He thought about the inscription on the inside. One Four Three. Had to force himself out of that memory before he could even start to get into it.

It all felt like too much. Too overwhelming. He needed to get himself together.

He sat up straight and cleared his throat.

He could do this. He could get through this shift. Get home. Get into bed. Stay there for forty-eight hours before he'd have to pretend again.

...He didn't even care that he won the bet.

“I've tried calling him like five times,” Buck said. He was sitting on the couch, his leg bouncing nervously up and down, Bobby and Athena sitting across from him. “I- I'm sorry about dinner, guys-”

“Don't even think about it,” Athena interrupted. “Bobby, you having any luck?”

Bobby shook his head. “I've texted him a few times but they're not going through.”

“Something's wrong. He wouldn't... Something's wrong. His location isn't on anymore either.”

“Okay.” Athena pulled out her phone. “Where did you say he was going?”

“Ralph's. He was just getting me some coconut cream for my recipe. I- I said I'd go but he insisted. That was over two hours ago. I, um, I should drive there and check.” He went to get up but Athena held out a hand to stop him.

“I'll go,” she said. “You and Bobby stay. Let me know if he shows up. I've got my badge and everything out in the car, so I can ask around at the store if I can't find him. His phone probably died and they were out of the right stuff at Ralph's, so he went somewhere else.”

“Yeah. Yeah, maybe,” Buck replied, but he could see the look Athena gave Bobby out of the corner of his eye.

He knew nothing in his life was ever that simple.

He stumbled upon the video by accident. He was looking for a picture of a recipe that Maddie had asked for when his finger hit the wrong thumbnail and the video began to play.

It was one he took without Tommy knowing. A rare rainy day in Los Angeles gave them the opportunity to relax at home instead of run errands or make plans.

Buck was splayed out on the couch, head on the armrest and his legs on Tommy's lap. Tommy had a crossword over Buck's legs, staring at it with an intensity usually reserved for flying into dangerous situations.

“If twenty-one across is evergreen, then eighteen down can't be carpet.”

“I thought you said eighteen down had to be carpet?” Buck asked off camera.

“It does, Evan,” Tommy placed the pen between his teeth. “It really does.”

“Then evergreen is wrong.”

Tommy shook his head. “Nope. It's gotta be evergreen.”

“We've been going over this for almost an hour now, Tommy,” Buck said, huffing out a laugh. “Give it up.”

“I've never been this close to finishing a Sunday crossword!” Tommy whined, the smile on his face betraying the seriousness of his voice. “If I give up now, I'll never forgive myself.”

“If you give up now I'll let you blow me as a consolation prize,” Buck offered cheekily.

Tommy gasped, glancing at Buck with a look of betrayal. “Sabotage!” he exclaimed. “I have to finish this, babe, or my name isn't Thomas Andrew Kinard!”

“Your name isn't Thomas Andrew Kinard,” Buck replied, the video shaking with his laughter. “It's Buckley-Kinard.”

Tommy froze. He clicked his pen closed and tossed it, along with the paper, on the coffee table. He turned to Evan, his eyes darkening, “About that consolation prize?”

Buck found himself smiling as the video ended. He'd taken it only three weeks after their wedding. The video wasn't even old, but it felt like a lifetime ago.

Suddenly, the living room felt cold. Buck's spot on the couch now uncomfortable. The silence a stark contrast to all the life in that memory. For two months now he'd had nothing but silence in his home, besides the far too occasional visits from his friends and family. It wasn't the same though. It wasn't the same as having Tommy.

The smile on Buck's face faded. He got up and headed to the bedroom to lie down.

Maddie would have to get that recipe another day.

“We're all set to clear out here,” Bobby said over the radio. “Great work everyone.”

The call had been a big one. A four alarm fire that required the assistance of multiple stations.

“This is Firefighter Pilot Kinard of Harbor Station for Firefighter Buckley of 118, over,” Tommy's voice came over the radio. He had been providing assistance from the chopper, now hovering above them as he set to head back.

Buck glanced around at the rest of the 118, all stopping what they were doing to watch him and listen in. “Go for Buckley.”

“Looking for confirmation on a code one-four-three.”

“One-four-three confirmed and returned.”

“Excellent. Returning to Harbor Station.”

“What the hell is a one-four-three?” Chimney asked once the sounds from the chopper were off in the distance.

Eddie rolled his eyes. “It's their way of saying 'I love you' after a big call.”

Buck smiled. “We usually text it to each other,” he explained, a blush rising on his cheeks, “just to let the other know we're alright. Guess he couldn't get to his phone.”

Hen put a hand to her stomach. “That's so preciously sickening I might throw up.”

“Okay, okay, come on guys,” Bobby said, waving the group toward the truck, “give Buck a break-”

“Thank you, Cap.”

“-for now. We can make fun of him on the way back to the station.”

“Hey!”

It was the longest, most grueling shift Buck had had since he could remember. He had only managed a couple hours of sleep, and that was often in fifteen minute increments. The worst part was the majority of calls were from people being stupid. Accidents that could have been prevented had a single person with half a brain been anywhere around.

All Buck wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep.

Which is why he was not so pleasantly surprised when he pulled up to Maddie's car in his driveway.

She greeted him at the door with a hug, and he faked a smile as he hugged back. “Why're you here?” he asked, trying to sound polite.

“Well, you've been working so hard lately, I figured I'd come over and help with the housecleaning.”

“Oh, uh, um, thanks.” The overwhelming smell of cleaning supplies made him feel a bit lightheaded as he walked further into the house, dropping his duffel on the dining room table. “It looks great in here.”

That wasn't a lie. She had made the place spotless. He wasn't a messy person himself but he couldn't deny he'd let certain things, like mopping and dusting, go over the past few months.

“It's the least I could do,” she replied. “I won't stay long, Howie texted me about how busy you guys were. Needed an excuse to see you though. It's... It's been a while.”

Two and a half weeks, to be exact. No fault of Maddie's either. She'd make plans with him, and he'd cancel last minute.

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly, running a hand through his hair. “I've been, uh, trying to get things back in order. I'm just- I'm still kind of...”

“It's okay,” she assured him. “Really. I understand.”

“Let me, um, let me go put my jacket up,” he said, tugging at it, “and we'll talk for a little bit before you go.” He didn't want to. No desire for small talk, or talk of any kind, but he couldn't kick her out of the house after all she'd done for him.

She smiled. “Okay. That sounds good.”

He headed to his bedroom, but stopped dead in his tracks when he reached the doorway.

“Did you... Did you wash my sheets?”

“I did,” Maddie replied, coming up behind him. Her voice was far too nonchalant for the blinding rage that was slowly seeping up inside him.

“All of them? Like, the pillowcases too?”

“Uh, yeah? Why would I only wash some of your sheets, Buck?”

Buck hurried over to the far side of the bed, throwing the comforter and sheets back to get to Tommy's pillow.

He didn't care if he looked like a crazy person. He brought the pillow up to his face and took a deep breath in.

It smelled like Gain.

It made him want to throw up.

“Buck, what's wrong?” She was clearly worried, standing uncomfortably in the doorway.

“I didn't ask you to do this, Maddie,” he said angrily, tossing the pillow back on the bed. “I- I didn't ask you to do any of this.”

“I know. I just wanted to help. Buck, I'm sorry if I-”

“I need you to leave.”

“Buck-”

“Leave!”

She stood firmly in place. “I'm not leaving until you tell me what I did wrong.”

“I- I, everyone keeps trying to help me,” he huffed, “and I don't want it! I don't want Eddie coming over for dinner! I don't want Hen taking me out for drinks! I don't want Chimney taking me to a movie! I don't want Bobby texting me every damn day! And I don't want you to be my maid!”

“We're just trying to help you, Evan-”

“Don't call me that!” He spewed.

He was breathing heavily. The stinging in his eyes surprised him. It'd been so long since he had last cried. He didn't particularly feel like crying right now, but apparently his body did. He groaned, sitting down on Tommy's side of the bed and staring out the window. He brought Tommy's pillow to his chest, and began to sob.

Maddie was by his side in seconds, wrapping her arms around him and enveloping him in a hug. 'I'm so sorry, Buck. I'm so sorry.” She was crying too. Buck could feel her tears wetting his shirt. He wasn't even sure why she was apologizing. She didn't have anything to be sorry for. If anything, he should be apologizing for snapping at her so harshly.

If he could speak, he would have told her as much. Would have told her that his head was a jumbled mess that he couldn't seem to clear. That nothing about this felt real. That he felt like Tommy was still there, somewhere, with them.

That it'd been four months since he'd had a dream. How he missed dreaming. They were always so vivid, him and Tommy, living their lives together.

Now, there was just darkness. An endless abyss of black every time he closed his eyes.

He'd tell her how his memories haunted him. The dreams may not exist, but the memories would appear out of nowhere at the worst times. They'd plague him. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't escape them.

He wasn't sure how much time passed before he was able to find his voice. Before he was able to bring himself out of Maddie's embrace. He kept a tight hold on the pillow, fingers messing with a pulled thread at the edge. “It s- smelled like him,” he said, his lip still trembling. “I'd... I'd wash everything else but, um, I- I couldn't wash this.”

“Oh, Buck, I'm so sorry. I didn't-”

“I know. It's okay. I- I know you were trying to help. It's okay.”

“Do you still have some of his cologne?”

Buck nodded and Maddie got up to go into the bathroom.

“Where?” she asked.

“Far sink, open the cabinet, black bottle.”

She returned a few seconds later with a bottle in hand, held out for Buck to see. “This one?”

“Mhm.”

“Want me to spray it?”

He laid the pillow out flat and Maddie sprayed it a couple of times.

“I really miss him, Maddie,” Buck admitted quietly, inhaling the scent of his cologne as it passed through the air.

“I know, Buck. I know.”

“Bobby, it's been twenty-four hours of nothing. I'm freaking out.”

Bobby hadn't left Buck since he'd arrived the day before. Athena had worked all night putting out alerts for Tommy and his vehicle, but hadn't gotten anywhere.

He and Buck had left two different times to go driving around. The rest of the 118 had gone searching as well, going to places he frequented, driving down any and every back road they could find.

Nothing.

Now, back at the house to rest for a minute, and make sure Tommy hadn't come back home, Buck was in a full blown panic.

“I know, Buck, but we're all doing everything we can,” Bobby replied, leading Buck to the couch. “Athena's got officers searching the whole city for his car. He'll be found.”

“But what if-”

“No,” Bobby sat on the edge of the coffee table so he could face Buck, “you're not gonna think like that, Buck.”

“Bobby,” his voice was pleading and his eyes red. “You know s- something's wrong. H- He wouldn't do this. You know that.”

Bobby sighed. He opened his mouth to speak, unsure of what he could even say, when the doorbell rang.

Buck's heart started pounding right away. Athena wouldn't ring the doorbell. She'd knock. So would anyone from the 118, except Eddie. Eddie would come right on in.

He was shaking as he got up and walked to the door, Bobby close behind him.

“Detective John Farrow,” a man introduced the second Buck opened the door. “Are you Evan Buckley-Kinard?”

Buck nodded. “I- Yes. I- I am.”

“Mr. Buckley-Kinard, I'm sorry to inform you...”

The sound of the detective's voice was replaced by a ringing in Buck's ears. He felt dizzy. His vision blurred. The last thing he remembered was Bobby catching him as he fell.

Agreeing to lunch at Maddie's with his parents was a mistake. He knew that from the moment he said yes. He'd been working on controlling his temper. Not overreacting at the small things.

There was still more work to be done.

“So,” Margaret began, everyone settled at the table. Maddie looked up to see her eyes on Buck. The look Margaret was giving him already made her want to scream. “There's really no easy way to say this, Evan-”

“Then maybe you shouldn't say it,” Maddie suggested. Chimney placed a hand on her back, rubbing gently to try and ease the tension.

Buck remained quiet, eyes directed toward his mother with an unreadable expression on his face.

“I'm simply asking,” Margaret continued, “if you've, you know, gotten back out there any?”

“Margaret,” Phillip warned under his breath. Maddie knew that if their dad wasn't even on their mom's side, this was never going to end civilly.

Maddie swore Buck's eyes went dark. “Buck-” Maddie started, but he cut her off.

“You're not seriously asking me if I'm dating six months after my husband died, are you, Mom?”

“Not dating, but getting back out into the world. I- I've heard so much about you staying holed up in your house, only leaving to go to work, and that worries me, Evan.”

“Stop calling me, Evan,” Buck demanded.

Margaret raised her hands in surrender. “I'm sorry,” she said, and she meant it. The name sometimes slipped out without her realizing it. She had been warned that the name triggered Buck in a way it never had before. Even though others had used it on occasion before, Evan had become Tommy's name for him. And with him gone, Buck didn't want to hear it from anyone. “I'm sorry, Buck. I just don't want to see you wasting away. It's hard for a mother to see her child suffer like this.”

“Were you over Daniel's death in six months?” Buck asked bitterly. “Were you back out there? Cause I seem to remember it being about thirty years before you even mentioned his name. And you only did that once Maddie told me about him.”

Tears filled Maddie's eyes. “Buck,” she spoke softly. She desperately wanted this conversation to end.

“That's not fair, Buck,” Margaret answered, her voice shaking. “Daniel was my child.”

“And Tommy was my husband!” Buck slammed his napkin on the table, rising to his feet. “We had planned a future together! We were saving up for a house, we were planning on having kids, we talked about what we'd do when we retired! Hell, we planned weekly grocery shopping trips together! All these things got ripped out from under me, and I'm supposed to just get back out there? Are you crazy?”

“Hey,” Phillip stood across from him, “that's too far. Your mother wasn't trying to be malicious.”

Buck shook his head, then began to head for the door. “This was a mistake. I- I'm gonna go.”

“Buck, wait-” Maddie went to get up, but Chimney placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Let me,” he said, walking out after Buck.

“Wait a minute, Buck!” Chimney jogged a few steps to catch up to him.

Buck stopped at his Jeep, hand on the door handle. “I'm not going back in.”

“Wasn't gonna ask you to. Just want to make sure you're okay.”

Buck let out a humorless laugh, turning back to Chimney. “Well, apparently I only stay holed up in my house except to go to work, so you tell me if I'm okay.”

“Maddie didn't say it like that to them, Buck, please don't be mad at her. She's worried about you. We all are.”

Buck scoffed. “Just leave me alone for tonight,” he said, getting into his Jeep. “I'll see you at work on Friday.”

“He flashed the ring three times today,” Eddie said, scooting back into the bench. After work they'd all met Tommy at the bar for a few drinks before heading home.

“Four,” Hen corrected.

“Nope.” Chimney took a sip of his beer. “Five.”

Tommy grinned at Buck. “Really? Five times? Can't say I blame them, I do have a hot fiancé.”

“Oh, my guy was not flirting,” Chimney stated. “Buck asked him if he liked the way the ring shimmered in the sunlight.”

“Mhm,” Hen agreed. “My girl wasn't flirting either. Buck noticed she had an ultrasonic ring cleaner in her bathroom and asked if she was happy with her purchase because, and I quote, 'I just got engaged and I want to make sure my ring stays perfect forever.'”

“Okay, guys,” Buck said with a groan, “we get it. I'm lame.”

“I don't think it's lame.” Tommy rested his hand on Buck's knee. “I think it's adorable. I love that you're excited to get married.”

A blush rose on Buck's cheeks. “I am excited,” he agreed, leaning in for a kiss. “Very excited.”

“Before this gets pg-13,” Eddie interrupted, “the two men I had were definitely flirting, but they both got the hint after the first 'fiancé' was thrown out there. Buck threw in two more for good measure. The other person- not flirting.”

“What about you?” Hen asked Tommy. “Did you get any offers you had to turn down today?”

“Well, I was thousands of feet in the air for both of the calls I went on, so any prospects would have had to look at me through some really good binoculars and then steal a radio to tell me they were into me, so no. No offers.”

“The guy in the bathroom definitely flirted with you like ten minutes ago, Dude,” Eddie said with a laugh.

“What?” Tommy asked incredulously. “No he didn't.”

“He for sure did. Man was jacked and he was asking for your workout routine.”

“He said he wanted to switch things up!” Tommy exclaimed.

Eddie snorted. “Oh, he definitely wanted to switch things up.”

“What? Who is this man?” Buck eyes darted around the bar. “Where is he?”

“Don't worry about it Buck,” Eddie reassured him. “Tommy didn't even realize it. Gave the guy a five minute rundown of how he gets the perfect squat. Your man only has eyes for you.”

Buck settled back into his seat, leaning into Tommy's side as Tommy pulled him closer and pressed a kiss to his temple. “That's true,” he whispered into Buck's ear.

Buck rested his head on Tommy's shoulder, ignoring the teasing gag sounds that came from the others around them.

If it were possible, he'd stay like this forever.

He should have expected this.

It should have happened sooner, if he were being honest.

He was lucky to go seven months without a call that hit too close to home.

There had been a hit and run. The car that was hit had flipped twice, landed right side up, and immediately burst into flames.

The man in the driver's seat never stood a chance.

Buck was okay while they hurried to get out the flames. He'd ignored the glances from the rest of the team, ignored Bobby's suggestion to stay by the engine, ignored the thoughts in the back of his head telling him to sit this one out.

It wasn't until the fire was out and he saw the man's body, burnt so severely he looked more like a halloween decoration than a human, that Buck lost it.

No matter how much he wanted to look away, his eyes were fixed on the body. His heart rate was speeding up quickly, each breath short and sharp and painful.

He hadn't even realized that tears were falling down his face. Or that he was letting out little noises similar to a dog's whine. He had his helmet in his hand, shaking so much it was vibrating against his leg.

Buck didn't even notice the bystanders watching him, some of them whispering, others pulling out their phones.

It felt like hours, but Bobby was in front of him within seconds. “We're gonna walk away, Buck,” he said calmly but firmly, planting a hand on his shoulder. “We're gonna walk away and go sit behind the engine. Come on.”

Buck let Bobby guide him to a quite spot behind the fire truck, sitting on the curb. Bobby took his helmet from him and tossed it somewhere, then sat down beside him.

“I'm sorry,” Buck breathed out, wiping over his face with his hand.

“You don't ever have to apologize for being human, Buck.”

“I don't know how to do this,” he confessed through sobs. “I don't- I don't know how to keep g- going.”

“The path through grief isn't linear,” Bobby explained. “Hell, it's not really much of a path you get through at all. More like a loop.”

“So this is... This is m- my forever?” He asked, voice rising in despair.

“No. Not exactly. You do learn how to manage it better over time, but it takes time, Buck. And it takes letting the people around you help you, instead of pushing them away.”

“I don't mean to,” Buck said as he began to calm down. “It just takes so much energy. Everything is exhausting. Talking to people is- is so exhausting.”

“I know. Buck, you've seen grief. It's been around you since you were a baby. I'm not saying there's any right or wrong way to grieve, but I think you know how dangerous it is to lose yourself in it.” Bobby put his arm around him, giving his shoulder a squeeze. “No one expects you to be exactly who you were before you lost Tommy. I'll never be the same person I was, Eddie won't be the same person he was, Chimney won't be who he was before losing his brother, I could go on and on. But we- I need you to realize you're still here, you're still breathing, and Tommy wouldn't want you to disappear.”

Buck nodded, a new wave of tears taking over him.

Bobby pulled him close and let him cry.

“How many kids do you want?”

Buck and Tommy were sat on the front porch steps watching the sunset behind the trees across the street.

“Uh,” Tommy paused, caught off guard. “I don't know. Haven't really thought about it.”

Buck shrugged. “We've talked about wanting kids, but we've never talked about how many we want.”

“Hm. Two sounds nice. Kinda close together so they can grow up with each other. You?”

“Two's good,” he agreed. “But we'd need a bigger house.”

“Oh, for sure. This one barely fits the two of us.”

“And I'd like for us to be married a while first. Settled, you know?”

Tommy raised his eyebrows. “You proposing?”

“Ha! Like this? No.” Buck took Tommy's hand in his and they settled into a comfortable silence. After a couple minutes, Buck squeezed Tommy's hand to get his attention. “I have, um, I've been thinking about it though. Um, about proposing,” he said, staring deep into Tommy's eyes to see what kind of response he'd get. When Tommy appeared surprised, Buck panicked a bit. “Is that, um, is- is that weird? To be thinking about it so soon?”

“What? Oh, God, no, Evan. I,” he laughed, “I've actually been thinking about it too. For a while now.”

Buck looked as shocked as the night Tommy first kissed him. “Really?”

“Really. I've been googling rings, looking for the perfect one. Kept trying to talk myself out of it because I wasn't sure if you'd think it was too fast but-”

Tommy's words were cut off by Buck's mouth on his, so forceful it nearly toppled them both over.

“Oh! Mmm,” Tommy moaned into the kiss, resting his hand at the base of Buck's neck.

“Yes,” Buck said, dazed as he pulled back far enough to speak.

“What?”

“Yes.”

“Bu- Evan, I didn't ask yet. Not the- I don't have a ring.”

“I don't care, Tommy. Yes. I'm saying yes. Yes?”

It took Tommy's mouth a second to catch up with his brain, but once it did he was nodding, his eyes filling with tears. “Yes. Of course, yes,” he replied, both of them laughing giddily before crashing their lips back together.

Everyone except for Hen was upstairs relaxing between calls. Bobby and Buck were at the table, planning out next week's meals. Eddie was fixing himself a cup of coffee. Chimney was on the couch, reading a book.

“We're all going out for beers after our shift,” Eddie said, glancing at Buck. “You in?”

Buck nodded. “Yeah, I'm in.”

He'd been trying lately. Trying to do things other than work and sleep. He'd gone to the zoo with Jee a couple times over the past month. He'd gone to Bobby's for dinner. Watched a game at Eddie's place. Met Maddie and Chimney for brunch. He'd even gone over to Hen's one night when she was home alone and they'd gotten hammered while discussing their various traumas.

Every one of these occasions had ended with him in his car, or a cab, sobbing uncontrollably.

But he was trying.

Hen walked up the stairs, a worried expression on her face. “What's up with you?” Chimney asked, first to notice.

“Uh... Buck?”

“Yeah?”

“There's a... a secret service agent here for you.”

All eyes were on her now.

A... a what?”

Before Hen could get in another word, a man in a suit walked up behind her.

Buck stood, recognizing the man right away. It was the same man who had come to his door to let him know about Tommy. His heart sunk. How could this possibly get worse?

“Detective Farrow?”

“Mr. Buckley-Kinard,” he greeted. “It's actually Special Agent Farrow, but you can all me John.”

“I- I don't-”

“I know this is a bit odd,” he continued, “and was not something I actually wanted to do. I was going to hold off until you were home, but he refused to wait another minute.”

“I- what are you talking about? Who?”

The sound of footsteps coming up the stairs interrupted whatever John was about to reply.

Suddenly there was a very familiar, very alive Tommy standing in front of them, smiling brightly at the sight of Buck. “Hi, Evan.”

“Holy shit.” The words escaped Chimney's mouth without him realizing.

Hen followed right after with an, “Oh my God.”

Eddie felt his coffee cup slip from his hand and shatter against the countertop. No one even noticed.

Bobby was standing right beside Buck, thankfully, because he had to quickly reach out and grab onto him before he fell to the ground. He managed to whip a chair around and get Buck seated as he stared, mouth agape, at his husband.

His alive husband.

His breathing husband.

His not-buried-in-the-cemetery husband.

“Evan,” Tommy stepped forward, but Buck held his arm out to stop him.

“What the hell is going on?”

Tommy was confused. Buck sounded angry, and scared. He looked around at all the other faces staring back at him. “Why... Why do you all look like you've seen a ghost?” he asked.

Chimney walked up to Tommy, poking him on the shoulder. “Because you're dead. At least, you're supposed to be.”

Tommy raised his eyebrows. “I'm what?” He turned to John. “Why would they think that?”

John cleared his throat, eyes gazing downward. “There's a lot we need to discuss, Mr. Buckley-Kinard.”

“Why would they think I was dead?” Tommy repeated, angry now.

“Because that's what we were told,” Hen answered.

Tommy stepped closer to John. “You told them I was dead?”

“We couldn't risk anyone knowing-”

“You told my husband I was dead?!”

“-that you were alive. It would have put everyone-”

“And you lied to me to keep me there?!”

“-in danger. It was easier this way.”

“That was not the deal!”

“Everyone shut up!” Buck's voice rang out over the station. He got out of his seat, Bobby keeping a hand near his back until he was sure Buck was steady.

Buck cautiously moved toward Tommy, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “You- You're really here?”

All of the anger Tommy had for John fell away as he looked into Buck's eyes. He nodded. “I'm here. I'm so sorry, Buck, I didn't-”

Buck shook his head, “I- I don't care right now.” He brought a hand up to Tommy's chest. Felt the thump-thump-thump of his heart. The firmness of his chest. He felt up until he reached Tommy's collarbone, poking ever so slightly out from his shirt. Felt the warmth of his skin. The slight dip that led up to his neck that Buck always loved to linger on when they were alone in bed. He felt the roughness of a two day old beard as he felt up his neck and toward his jawbone. “My God.” The words were hushed, breathed out through trembling lips and red-rimmed eyes. He pressed their lips together so quickly, so urgently, that Tommy didn't even have time to register it. He moaned into the kiss, finally reaching out and wrapping his arms around Buck's waist, finding their home at the base of his back.

“Let's give them a minute,” Bobby said, gesturing for everyone to head downstairs.

“I need to brief them,” John replied, earning him a glare from everyone else in the room.

“We're giving them a minute,” Bobby demanded.

John didn't try to protest any further. He simply followed the others downstairs, allowing Buck and Tommy time to reconnect.

“I didn't know,” Tommy began, he and Buck seated on the couch. “I was never told that you thought I was dead.”

“I am so confused, Tommy, I don't... I'm not even sure if this is real, to be honest. Am I dreaming? I haven't... I haven't had a dream since you died. Is that what this is?”

Tommy shook his head. “It's not a dream, Evan.”

“Then what the hell happened?” Buck asked, going from anxious to frustrated, “Cause I'm kinda pissed.”

Tommy scooted closer to Buck, cautiously holding out his hands for Buck to take. There was hesitation, but Buck gave in.

“The night I went to the grocery store, I saw something. I, it was a murder.”

Buck's eyes widened. “A what?”

“Yeah, I know. When I was leaving the store, I went out the back way to avoid all the traffic at the main entrance. It was getting dark, and when I passed by the dumpsters out back I saw something out of the corner of my eye. I- this guy had shot another man. I got a good look at him, and he got a good look at me too, but he ran. I got out of the car, called 911, and tried to help the other guy, but he was dead.”

“I... My brain feels like it's about to explode, Tommy. I don't understand how this leads to me planning your funeral.”

Tears came to Tommy's eyes at the thought. He continued, “The police came first, and they were asking for descriptions and any information I had. Then, the FBI shows up, and the CIA, and suddenly I'm surrounded by agents from every agency that goes by initials. This guy, whoever I saw, was apparently a hitman. A good one. Like, ties to Russia and shit. Anyway, I'm being tossed into a van and told my life's in danger because this guy saw me.”

“This sounds like a really bad cop thriller, Tommy.”

Tommy let out a humorless laugh. “Yeah, I know, believe me. But these agents are telling me that I need protection, this man has killed for less before, blah blah blah. They said he'd killed an entire family because the mom had witnessed one of his hits.”

Buck scoffed. “Apparently he's not that good if he keeps getting caught.”

“Evan,” Tommy said, eyes pleading, “they showed me crime scene pictures of what this man had done. Told me he'd do the same to you if I went home. It was... It was horrific.”

“They wouldn't even let you call me? Tell me you were okay? I was- I went through hell these past eight months.”

“They took my phone, said anything electronic was a risk. Said if I declined protection, if I went home to you, I was basically signing your death certificate. But I told them- I told them that I had to let you know something and they said to write you a letter. I wrote one every week. They said they'd deliver it to you.”

“They did not deliver any letters.”

“Yeah, I'm getting that now. Evan, I swear I had no idea they were going to tell you I was dead. No idea.” Tommy clung onto Buck's hands tighter, and Buck couldn't ignore the pang in his chest at having Tommy in front of him. Alive. With him. Beside him. Holding him.

“I believe you.” He was being honest. He did believe Tommy. He knew Tommy would do anything to keep him safe. He also knew Tommy would never agree to making Buck feel the way he had felt for the last eight months. “I am just... I am so confused right now. This all sounds so crazy and over- overwhelming, Tommy. And I really wanna punch that John guy, whoever the fuck he is. And I want-” he cleared his throat, eyes red with unshed tears. “I wanna go home, Tommy.”

Unable to hold himself back any longer, he leaned into Tommy. They met each other halfway, their foreheads pressed together. Buck reached up and cupped Tommy's cheeks, brushing his thumbs against the rough stubble. They closed their eyes and breathed each other in. Buck whispered, “Can we go home?”

John wanted to sit with them and go over everything before they left, but the boiling over rage from the both of them was evident, so he made a plan to speak with them the next day.

After brief hugs and hello's, along with endless apologies to everyone at the 118, Tommy and Buck left.

The ride home was oddly, but comfortably, quiet. Neither were totally sure what to say. Tommy had basically been a prisoner in a safe house for eight months until the FBI found this hitman. Buck had been living in a prison of his own, thinking the love of his life had been burned and buried.

“Home sweet home,” Buck said as they pulled into the driveway. He let go of Tommy's hand long enough for them to get out of the car.

They were interlaced once again as soon as Tommy walked around the Jeep.

Buck needed the touch. Needed to stay connected to Tommy somehow, so he didn't wake up from whatever dream he was in. If this wasn't reality, he wanted to stay wherever it was for the rest of his life.

They walked into the house slowly, Buck a step ahead of Tommy, leading the way.

Once the door was shut behind them, Tommy began looking around.

Everything was... the same. Besides a few of his houseplants being gone, but they never stood a chance in the first place.

Tommy stepped in front of Buck, gave his hand a squeeze before letting go, and continued further into the house.

Buck's body ached at the loss of Tommy's touch, but he let him go. Knew this was overwhelming for him too.

“You kept all my stuff,” Tommy noted, moving into the living room.

“Of course I did.”

“Even though you thought I was-”

“A part of me didn't believe it. I kept telling people that something felt wrong. Everyone said I was in denial; that I'd move on when I was ready.”

“God, this is so fucked up.” Tommy turned to face Buck. The space between them felt as though they might as well be a thousand miles apart. “It's okay if you're mad,” he said. “I understand.”

“I- I am mad,” Buck admitted. He moved closer to Tommy. Everything still felt so surreal. He wasn't even sure if this was actually happening right now. “I don't think I'm mad at you though. I- I'm mad at them.”

“Who?”

There were so many to choose from. “Everyone who took you away from me.”

Tommy nodded. “I'm mad at them too. They wasted eight damn months of my life. Our life.”

Buck cleared any remaining distance between them. He brought his hands to Tommy's waist slowly, dragging his hands up and down his sides, feeling the defined muscles that rested just beneath his shirt.

Tommy sunk into the touch. He watched Buck as he stared at his body. Looked over every inch of him to make sure Tommy wasn't a figment of his imagination.

Tommy brought a hand to Buck's chin, gently tilting his head up until their eyes met. “Can I kiss you?” he asked softly.

Buck sucked in a breath. “Please.”

Tommy brought their lips together gently, both of their bodies shaking with the need to be closer. Feel more.

Buck fisted Tommy's shirt in his hands, pushed their bodies as close as they could go with how they were standing.

Tommy brought his hands to the nape of Buck's neck as the kiss deepened. Their tongues met with a moan, teeth clashing together before Buck pulled back just far enough speak against Tommy's lips. “I don't want to be mad right now,” he whispered like a secret.

Tommy kissed him again. “What do you want?” he asked.

Buck slowly raised Tommy's shirt, just enough to get his hands underneath. He scratched his fingernails down Tommy's abs, causing Tommy to suck in a sharp breath. Chills covered his body.

Buck kissed Tommy's lips, then his cheek, this nipped at his jawline until he reached his ear. “I wanna to fuck you,” he answered.

They clumsily stumbled into the bedroom, stripping themselves of their clothes before falling onto the bed. “You've been working out a lot,” Buck noted between kisses, hands roaming over Tommy's body.

Tommy pressed himself against Buck, their cocks rubbing together, eliciting a groan from them both.

“There was quite literally nothing else to do,” Tommy replied.

Their bodies moved together so perfectly. Just like always. Like they had never been apart at all.

Tommy sucked on Buck's bottom lip, listening to the stunted gasps that escaped him with every thrust.

“You're so fucking beautiful,” Tommy said breathlessly. He bit at a spot on Buck's neck, Buck's hands tangling in Tommy's hair and tugging firmly.

“Tom- Tommy,” he whimpered out. “You gotta. I wanna- You gotta stop,” he managed to get out.

Tommy whined, but stopped his movements. The sound earned him a laugh from Buck. He caressed Tommy's cheek until he looked at him. “Wanna fuck you, remember? Not gonna last long if- if you keep going.”

Tommy nodded. He was seconds away from coming himself. It was easy to get lost in the feeling with Buck. Easy to lose control.

With one swift movement, Buck flipped them so he was on top. He may not have been working out as much as Tommy over the last few months, but he did have a lot of sessions with a punching bag recently, and right now he felt ready to take on the world.

Buck ran his hand over Tommy's chest, let his fingernails drag over his nipple, Tommy arching into the touch. He felt over every ab, traced Tommy's scar, moved down to his stomach. It was all so torturously slow, but so fucking wonderful.

He kissed his way down Tommy's body, stopping at his cock. He stared up at Tommy with heavy lidded eyes as he spit, letting the drool drip down from his mouth onto the head of Tommy's dick. “The first time I touched myself,” Buck said, finally taking Tommy's cock in his hand, dragging his hand up and down leisurely as Tommy's eyes fluttered shut, “after... you know.”

“Mhm.” Tommy managed to open his eyes again, trying to focus on Buck and his words instead of the warm, wet hand gliding over him.

“I had to stop. I tried to- to touch myself the way you always touched me, but I- I couldn't do it.”

“Oh God, Evan.” Tommy fucked himself into Buck's tight fist. He brought their lips together sloppily. “Wanna touch you like that again.”

Buck nodded. “You will,” he promised. “But not right now. Right now I need to be in you.”

“Please.”

Buck let go of Tommy long enough to reach into the bedside table and grab the lube. He put some on, Tommy spreading his legs as Buck reached down and slowly began inserting his finger.

“Ah,” Tommy gasped. He reached up and pulled Buck down for another kiss as Buck slowly pumped his finger in and out.

“You're so tight,” Buck panted into Tommy's mouth.

“Been a while.” Tommy began to grind down against Buck's finger, moaning loudly when it hit the perfect spot.

“Shit,” Buck whined. “You haven't... You didn't?”

“A finger or two.” Tommy planted his feet on the bed, getting better leverage to work himself up and down on Buck. “A- Another, Evan, please.”

Buck obliged, adding another finger along the first, eliciting a string of curses from Tommy.

“Fuck, fuck, fucking shit! It was never the same,” he added quickly, going back to the conversation. “Didn't- God, didn't feel like this. Evan, more!”

Buck silenced a moan with his mouth as he added a third finger, grinding his cock against Tommy's thigh. He knew he wasn't gonna last long. Knew Tommy wouldn't either. It didn't matter though. They had plenty of time to make up for what was lost.

“I- I'm ready. Just... I need-”

“I know.” Another kiss and Buck slipped his fingers out of Tommy. Tommy grabbed the lube from the side of the bed and tossed it in Buck's direction, getting a laugh out of him.

Soon enough, Buck had Tommy's legs on his shoulders and his cock was slowly, slowly, so fucking slowly, entering Tommy.

They stared into each others eyes, Tommy slack-jawed with tiny, breathy grunts escaping him every time Buck inched closer.

After what felt like an eternity, Buck bottomed out. He stilled, breathing heavily. “I gotta. Just. I need a second.”

“S'okay.” Tommy reached out and grabbed for Buck's hands, which were currently gripping Tommy's thighs. “S'okay,” he repeated.

A few seconds later, Buck began to move.

Slowly at first, letting Tommy get used to the feeling again. Hell, letting him get used to the feeling again.

“Ev- ah- Evan?”

“Yeah?”

“I- ah- I. I need-”

“What? What do- do you need?”

“Oh shit!" Tommy yelled as Buck snapped his hips forward. "Fuck me, Evan!”

That was all Buck needed to hear. He pushed himself up slightly, to get a better position, and began moving faster, faster, faster, harder, harder, harder. Each thrust pulled a new sound out of Tommy. Low, guttural groans.

The sound of their skin slapping together, the feeling of the sweat covering their bodies, the heat between them, the desperation over all they thought they'd lost.

It was too much.

“Evan, I- I'm gonna come.” He'd never been able to come untouched before. Always needed a hand on his cock to get there. Not this time though. He came with a sound so loud, Buck was sure the neighbors at the other end of the street could hear.

Tommy's legs dropped off of Buck's shoulders, but he quickly wrapped them around his back to make sure he didn't go anywhere.

“Tommy,” Buck gasped, each movement now with far less rhythm. “Tommy, i- is this real?”

Tommy pulled Buck closer, his fingernails digging into Buck's back. He moaned as Buck drove in deeper. “It's- I'm real,” he managed to breathe out. “I'm here, Evan.”

Buck groaned loudly, mouth pressed close to Tommy's ear, coming deep inside him. After a couple lighter, gentler thrusts, Buck stopped. He practically dropped all his body weight on top of Tommy. Tommy kept his legs wrapped tightly around him. Neither could seem to let the other go just yet.

Buck hid his head into Tommy's neck. “I missed you so much,” he whimpered out, both men trying to catch their breath. Tommy could feel the wetness of Buck's tears on his neck. “God, I- I missed you.”

Tommy brought his hands to Buck's head, carding his fingers through his hair. “I missed you every damn second of every damn day,” he replied.

After they cleaned up, Buck curled back into Tommy, intertwining their bodies at every point he could manage. Tommy wrapped Buck into his arms, and Buck laid his head on Tommy's chest. They laid in silence for a while, allowing themselves to feel and be felt for the first time in so long.

Buck was the first to break the silence, letting the words fall out like a secret admission. “John came to the house the day after you went missing. They... They said your car had been in an accident. That you, um, that it had caught on fire w- with you inside.”

Tommy's body stiffened underneath him. “Baby, if... if I'd known-”

“I know,” Buck assured him. He ran his hand up and down over Tommy's chest until he relaxed again. “I know it wasn't you.”

“I'm gonna ask John if he still has my letters,” Tommy said.

“You really wrote me letters?” Buck asked, stealing a glance up at Tommy.

“Mhm. I'm sure they all thought I was an absolute idiot, especially seeing as it was all a lie, but yeah, every week.”

Buck pressed a kiss to Tommy's pec before lying back down. “I hope they exist somewhere. I'd love to read them.”

“They were really fucking depressing. Turns out I don't handle being without you very well.”

“Oh, you should've seen me.” Buck traced circle patterns along Tommy's chest. “This was the first month I started trying. Trying to get back out and do things with people... I'm glad I don't have to try anymore.”

“That's probably something we should talk about, especially with our jobs.” He snuggled further under the covers, wrapping Buck even tighter in his arms. “Not tonight though.”

“No, not tonight,” Buck agreed.

They still had a lot to talk about. A lot of things that had to be sorted. Questions that needed answers. Issues that would need to be resolved.

But, for tonight, the only thing they needed was each other.

Each other, and the first good night's sleep for them both since the day Tommy disappeared.

That night, once sleep took over, Buck dreamt.

[trtlebuns]

Who would’ve thought?

Random things about T141 + Alejandro & Köing

Tags: Fluff and cursing (maybe?)

Alejandro Vargas

my man my man my man!!!!

Alejandro HATES!!! Spicy foods, even though he is Mexican and grew up in a Mexican household he CANNOT handle anything spicy

Wakes up at 6:45 everyday

His comfort clothing includes: a tank top or T-shirt with grey joggers and black/socks

He would often cook the meals (very house husband of him)

Hates alcoholic beverages, like he’ll drink them but won’t enjoy them

Favorite color is: Rosewood Pink

Favorite ice cream flavor is strawberry

He doesn’t wear cologne

He takes his skin care VERY serious

When he’s angry or excited he would talk in his native tongue

Will call out of work if his hair isn’t “hairing”

Likes to kiss you on the forehead near your edges

Likes to watch you get dressed

Wants to have a big family

If he could be any cartoon character he would be Milo from fish hooks

Has a tattoo of your initial behind his ear

Köing

Listens to lofi and jazz

A light sleeper

Hates pickles

Wears his mask in public but at home he wears a big sweater with a large hood to hide most of his face (specifically a deep purple sweater)

Likes all of the avengers movies and if one is coming out he would buy tickets in advance (like 3-6 months in advance)

Likes strawberry milk but is severely lactose intolerant

Hates raisins but likes grapes

His comfort outfit would be: at home, a onesie to match yours or if in public ( like he goes out there willingly) would be a hoodie and joggers with crocs

Enjoys putting on his eye makeup while you do your makeup

Still doesn’t know what “beat this face to the gods” mean, even though you only say it when you do your makeup

Is happy with being with you and having a cat or two (or any small animal of your choice)

Prefers to eat ketchup with anything

Likes sardines

Likes to hug you from the back

Favorite color is: Mulberry Purple

He wears your initial as a chain

Has a dad sneeze

GHOST (Simon Riley)

Hates anything super sweet or sweeting in general

Prefers coffee (black) over tea, but would drink it if it’s the only thing around

He likes pumpkin spice lattes (yes he’s a basic bi- brit 🫣)

Secretly adds weapons to you car every time he gets in it

Like why do you have a knife in your cup holder?? How did that get there, you wonder

Orders steak every time you guys eat out anywhere “fancy”

Wears a face mask when he’s out

Your nickname for him is “beady eyed brit”

Only kisses you on the cheek and the temple

He rolls his eyes at everything

“Omg mon, you didn’t have to get me this??” You said happily as you hugged Simon. “I wouldn’t have gotten it, if you didn’t stop pestering me about it” He sighed and rolled his eyes knowing that he would buy you the world if you only mentioned it once

He loves peppermints

He likes to watch you…just do you

You’re in the kitchen? Boom, he’s leaning on the fridge watching you. You’re in the bathroom fixing your hair, Boom, he’s sitting on the toilet seat just staring. You’re walking around talking on the phone? Boom, he’s right there in arms distance listening and watching you. Just watching

He listens to classical music

Comfort fit: anything that’s lying on the floor closest to him or anything that seems comfy to him, could be shorts and a shirt or joggers and topless as long as he’s comfy he don’t care

Prefers to be just with you but wouldn’t mind stretching the family

He likes to skip rocks

He knows how to skateboard

Weirdly obsessed with peanut butter because of the “protein”

Favorite color is: Juniper Green

He goes makeup shopping with you because you need to know what type of eye makeup he wears that lasts through literal war

SOAP (Johnny Mactavish)

Hates coconut flavored anything! It could artificial or down to the real deal he HATES IT

Likes to yell at the tv

Must take a bite of your food, it doesn’t matter if you both have the same thing or not. He needs a bite and his reasoning is “I’m testing for poison”

Get you a man who CARES!

Would rate your burps out of 10

Let’s you paint his nails

He spills the tea and so do you

Johnny bursts through the door, and started you “BIIIIIIITCH!!!” Johnny says as he shakes his head walks towards you, you already know the tea is piping HOT! “Let me tell you what price done said over the phone just now” he says as he props down on the bed and you get into a sitting position “I’m all ears babe” you get ready for the most juiciest information of you life

Likes to pee/shit while you’re in the bathroom (it’s his favorite activity)

He rock climbs for a hobby

Favorite color is: Coin Silver

Always calls and never text in advance that he needs to talk

Comfort outfit: pajama bottoms, bunny slippers, and topless or a tanktop

Likes to sleep in cold temperatures

Tackles you with hugs and kisses whenever he sees you

You’re on the phone trying to pay a bill? Boom, he’s right next to you kissing your head and hugging you from the back. You’re trying to get ready for work? Boom, you’re making out and now you gotta call off work…AGAIN!

Listens to a lot of Megan thee stallion because he heard you playing thot shit

Hates the texture of cottage cheese

He’s a horrible cook and so are you, but you both try your best and end up ordering out

Likes to throw things at you and act as if he had no idea what you’re talking about when you ask if he threw something at you

“Ow, what the fu-“ you say as you scratch your head and look at the ground and see an orange crayon on the floor. You look up and see Johnny at the table with a coloring book and crayons “J did you just throw this at me” you question as you raise the crayon. He looks and you and you look at him… “I have no idea what you’re talking about” he says calmly as he goes back to coloring. You sigh, “then how did this get over here?” You roll your eyes and put your hand on your hip. “It must’ve been already over there” he shrugs while continuing his activity with a small smirk pulling at his lips

Likes to eat haggis ( Scottish bastard )

Knows how to play the flute

He would like to have 3 kids and 2 dogs (specifically a Rottweiler and Doberman)

[chaisshitposts]

Write A Letter To Yourself To Find The Answers You Want. || 'Dear Subconscious...'

have ya ever had a problem at hand that ya just couldn't figure out a solution to? it's such a deeply perplexing problem that ya just decide to shrug it off and maybe 'sleep it off.' and so, ya do just that... and maybe in the middle of the night, or as soon as ya wake up, or maybe even two days later in the middle of a totally unrelated task, ya get a random idea, a random thought, or perhaps a random solution that was the answer. that was yer subconscious, answerin' that problem ya were so stumped on.

which got me thinkin'... why haven't i considered askin' my subconscious a direct question? ive seen this happen in movies before, usually with— people who have DID or MPD, or perhaps someone who sleep walks, or suffers black outs. I've seen people leave notes and messages to themselves.

why haven't I just written a letter addressed to my subconscious and let it solve everything for me? why haven't I asked my subconscious to show me the answer or give me the answers I need to tap into being in the state of pure consciousness? the letter is personal to me, and my subconscious knows me best, so why the fuck wouldn't I trust what it has to say? i already do muscle testin' to get my yes/no answers, I already do fuckin' tarot readin's on myself— so... why not do this? can't believe I haven't done this yet.

and with that thought, I got my handy notebook, sat down at my dining room table, and got to writin', starting the letter off by saying 'dear subconscious...' I spilled my most vulnerable guts afterwards and the rest was history.

I'm gonna tell ya right now, full transparency, I wrote to my subconscious about how much I want to enter the void state/I Am State and asked it for clear signs in my letter, I told it to give me the answers I want in a way that only I could understand. an experiment worth while... originally, i wasn't gonna post this but then i got my answers and i wanted to share this with ya lovely folks of this lil' dandy community.

I bet you're wonderin' what was the answer I got from my subconscious. I got multiple answers, as terrifying as that is, and I cannot even fathom how I can explain them properly. All I know is that I feel unwavering peace in all aspects of my life. but if yer really curious, I got a message in a tarot readin' video and through the spinoff of adventure time that just came out, not too long ago on max. Fiona and Cake. the shit they say in the show is... I can't even explain how it made me feel, just finished watchin' the entire series today. it was everything I needed to know, I asked my subconscious for an answer that only I would understand and what would ya know... i love musicals and animated shows/movies, and behold, i gotta damn combo. i definitely recommend it to my fellow manifesters!!! they literally talk about how easy it is to create yer own REALITIES in the damn show... that's what we fuckin' do!!!!

how do I write a letter to myself?

address yourself a letter as 'dear subconscious' and then get to writin'. you're literally sendin' yerself a letter, say whatever ya want in it, write yer secrets, write yer fears, write yer dreams. ask yer subconscious whatcha need to do to get yer dream life guaranteed and ya shall receive. some people may not like the idea of this but, what's the harm in a lil' conversation with yerself and findin' out the answers ya need. It can especially help ya if you've been strugglin' for a while, 'specially with all ya folks out there who've been on yer void journey for multiple years. what better way to get yer answers than to speak to yerself through yer own mind... wah, that sounds fuckin' coconuts but I stand by it.

essentially, this is just a combo of commandin' yer subconscious and scriptin', that's not hard at all. and who said ya gotta handwrite it? ya can type it out on yer phone or even yer computer if ya want, do whatever feels good and allows ya to write out yer guts and frustration. after that, ya can relax and see what happens next. that's all in this post! thanks for readin' and I hope ya get the answers ya seek! until next time!~

p.s. this ain't a challenge, it's just another way to get to know what you need to do to accomplish your dreams as the individual creator of yer reality. you'll know when yer answers come. hell, might even come to ya in the middle of the night or even in a random movie in the form of a quote that is far too relatable to yer situation ya decided to sit down and watch one day. kinda like what happened with me... hehe.

[nationalanthemdemo]

𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐬 !! 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐬

ʚɞ disclaimer !!! :: my old acc was cherrycolaunicorn but i got logged out and the password won't work so here's this <3 // also follow bc i'd love to be moots :)

౨ৎ insta :: angelicbabydoll555 // i follow back !!

✯ my name is alesandra

✯ my dms are openn

✯ i post whispers, collages, and relatable stuff !!

✯ i'm a dancer and a model

✯ downtown girl

✯ creeps dni

✯ chris girl

✯ july cancer

✯ lana obsessed !!!

✯ idc if you trauma dump

✯ 5'5 !

✯ my mbti : enfp-t

✯ hell is a teenage girl and it's me

✯ i'm also a pinterest girl !!

✯ interests :: sturniolo triplets , pinterest , kathleen glasgow , old books , ballet , poetry , coffee , hot showers , warm pink blankets , music , the ultraviolence album , peach perfume , library books , coconut chapstick

✯ music :: lana obv , jeff buckley , madison beer , the ronnettes , chase atlantic , gracie abrams , radiohead , steve lacy , dominic fike , clairo , faye webster , beabadoobee , donald glover , charli xcx , eminem , the weeknd , big thief , nirvana , tame impala , arctic monkeys , the lorax soundtrack

✯ tv shows :: the vampire diaries , the originals , gossip girl , ahs , brooklyn nine nine , gilmore girls , skins , 13 reasons why , pretty little liars , gossip girl , the good wife , criminal minds , the resident

✯ movies :: bones & all , the hunger games , scream , clueless , 10 things i hate about you , coraline , black swan , the virgin suicides , girl interrupted , beautiful boy , thirteen , little miss perfect , ladybird , little women , juno , pearl , the girl who escaped , millers girl , the perks of being a wallflower , girl in the basement

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

[pattypanini]

Lay All Your Love On Me

Chapter 2- Watch Party

Josh Kiszka x Reader

Word Count: 3,106 

AN: Hi everyone! Here is the second chapter of Lay All Your Love On Me from me and @mar-rein12! Thank you so much for all the support on our last chapter, as they go on they are getting longer and longer. We hope you enjoy chapter 2, Watch Party.

Next chapter coming next week!

Warnings: 18+, Angst, Flirting, Cuddling (if you squint), Making out, Hickeys, Grinding, Slight pain, Tit sucking/fondling, Cursing, Degrading.

The morning was slow and productive. You cleaned up your room, did laundry, and washed the dishes from breakfast to distract yourself from the nerves that were building up inside you. You would be alone with Josh all night, with no idea of what it would entail. 

Sure, you were gonna watch the movie and talk about what needs to be worked on, but is that all that would happen? There’s something in the back of your mind telling you that he wants something more from you. 

Although you weren’t sure of what would happen, an everything shower was needed just in case. 

You shaved your body, washed your hair with your coconut shampoo and conditioner, and scrubbed your body down with your vanilla sugar body wash.

You feel silly preparing for something that probably won't even happen, but you will not be left feeling vulnerable to Josh. 

You get out and moisturize your body with your coconut cream pie lotion and blow dry your hair. You didn’t want to try too hard, so you opted to clip it back.

While looking through your closet you connect your phone to your speaker to play some music and absentmindedly play whatever song was last on. 

…the bar when your glass is empty

You thinking that this songs coming on to tempt me

I need to be alone like the way you left me

You start calling, you start crying

I come over, I'm inside you

I can't find you

The girl that I once had

But the sex…

You rapidly skip the song and let another play, Girls by The Dare begins to play. Even though some would say it's a violating song, you liked it. Most people probably wouldn't expect it from you seeing that you were a theater kid but you had a very expansive music taste.

You loved Noah Kahan, Tyler the Creator, Lana Del Rey and many more artists. You loved music and it was one of the things that got you into theater. Your Dad would always play music and sing with you in the mornings before school. It was one of the things that got you and your dad through the divorce, with your mom. When you started getting older he would take you to plays and you fell in love with the art. You began taking singing lessons and perfected your voice, which transitioned into acting lessons. All of which led to your audition at the University of Michigan. To your surprise, you were accepted and have been living your best life since. But now you're hit with a roadblock, and that roadblock is Josh Kiszka.

But this role meant a lot to you. You were so happy that Coleman took a chance on you. She had always said that you had so much potential and that with hard work you’d get to be where you want to one day, and now you are. You couldn’t disappoint her now, so if hanging with Josh for a few hours is what you had to do, you’d do it. 

After browsing for a while in your closet, your eye lands upon your blue, Detroit Lions crewneck that you got for your birthday from your dad. You slip that over your body, without even realizing you hadn’t put on a bra. You start digging through your drawers for bottoms. The temperature was a little warmer than usual, a cool 54 degrees which is pretty nice considering how cold it has been.  You find your white Lululemon shorts, and pull them over your hips patting them down to make sure everything looks okay.

You make your way over to your vanity and apply a thin coat of mascara and a few dots of cream blush, then slip on your socks and New Balances. Finishing it all off you spray on some deodorant and your Sol De Janeiro 62 perfume. The nerves in your body were covering up any bit of excitement you had, which is probably why you got ready so early. 

You head into your living area and turn on Victorious which is you and your roommates current binge watch. Without a doubt, Charlotte hears the intro and runs into the living room. 

“You're supposed to tell me when you're gonna watch it y/n!”

“Sorry, I just had some time to spare before I have to go out.”

“Where are you going, over to Andrew's apartment from last week?” She says with a devious grin.

“No. As tempting as that is, I have to go to Josh’s tonight.”  You space out for a moment thinking about Andrew. “...He did have some good dick though.” You laugh simultaneously.

“Didn’t need to know that y/n. SO what are you going to do with Josh?”

“I don't know? Watch the movie probably and figure out how we're going to keep the peace during practice.”

“Makes sense. I wish you were free, I'm going to the mall with Lindsey and Rebecca. I have a vision.”

You knew whatever she was going to say would be interesting. She always has so many crazy ideas and is always looking for something new in her life.

“Okay so, imagine, bubblegum pink sweatpants for the sorority thing were hosting next week. With a cute loose white shirt. Gold chunky hoops and my tasmans. What do we think?”

“Very cute Char.” You would offer for her to borrow yours but you’d probably never see them again. “I’ve been thinking about getting platform mini uggs, but it’s starting to get a little warmer out so I’m not too sure.” 

“Stopppp those are so cute, they would look amazing on you. What if you also got some….”

As the conversation is flowing just like it always does, you didn’t even notice the 4 hours and something minutes had slipped by while having Victorious play in the back before you hear a buzz from your phone.

8:13pm Josh: Sooo do you not want your role orrrr?

Shit. You had completely forgotten about your hangout with Josh.

8:13pm y/n: Fuck, sorry got lost in time. I'm on my way.

You quickly grab your cross body and phone and are on your way.

As you hastily walk towards the apartment you think about what you're going to have to deal with now that he's been waiting for you. 

You decide to take the stairs, sprinting up them due to already being late. When you get to the third floor you knock on the door, 322.

You were expecting an angry Josh, but were met with the sweeter looking version of him.

“Hello?” Jake answers.

His roommate, and brother Jake, looks you up and down before turning away from the door.

“JOSHHH, she's here.” Before you could say anything else he grabs his guitar case and lets you in.

“See you y/n.” He shoots you a wink, causing blood to rush to your cheeks, painting them a flushed shade of red. 

“Bye Jake.” As he leaves, you turn the corner and you’re met with the less enjoyable version of the two.

“Why are you late?” He harshly questions.

You stare at him with a confused look on your face. “I was hanging out with someone before this. I got held up.”

“Who was it?”

“I don't see why that's any of your business. Plus why do you care?” You spat at him.

“I just want to know who you're hoeing around with when you're not with me.” Instead of telling the truth you decide to play into it, make him jealous.

“You calling me a hoe doesn't hurt my feelings, Josh. Just because you don't get any doesn't mean you have to be jealous of the guys I get with.”

“Who says I’m jealous?”

“Oh please, it's written all over you.” 

He scoffs, “Let's just get this done so we can part ways and say we worked on it.”

You roll your eyes and follow him into the dark room, lit by a small lamp that's in the corner. Mamma Mia is already queued up on the TV. You let Josh pick where he’s going to sit, so you can pick the farthest seat from him. 

As he sits on the left end of the couch, you sit your stuff on the end table near the right end of the couch and take a seat. Leaving a spot in between the two of you. You slip off your shoes and criss cross your legs on the couch. 

“Do you need anything to drink?” Josh asks clearly, feeling obligated to.

“Um, I’ll just have some water. Thanks.” You fidget with the necklace hanging around your neck, in a nervous manner. 

He nods and walks away leaving you alone in the living room. As you look around the room, you take in the atmosphere. It’s very different from what you would have thought. It's a very nice apartment for a junior to be living in, but wasn’t too out there considering the wealth of the family. When you walked in you were met with the living room on the right, a very small kitchen on the left, and a bathroom straight down the hall. You would have to assume that he and his brother's bedrooms were also down the hall. You wondered what Josh’s was like?

The living room was cozy but sleek. You sat on a cold black leather couch with a white faux fur blanket draped along the back. A flat screen TV takes up most of the wall, with a table beneath it with a PS5 on top. A small leather chair and music stand sat in the corner of the room, which you assumed was Jake’s.

Midway during your observation Josh had come back with your glass of iced water. 

“Here,” he puts down a coaster on the glass coffee table, sitting it right in front of you. 

“Thanks Josh!” You pick up the glass taking a large gulp of the icy water.

“Mhm,” he says with a slight nod.

“Sooo…do you like Mamma Mia?” You question him.

“Phhh, no. I’m just doing this for the part, I don’t really care about all that stuff. And for them to not even get married at the end was fucking stupid.”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t play the part if you have such strong feelings about it.” You give him a fake, condescending smile.

“Did you come over to work or to just attack me all night?”

“Maybe both.” You say half joking and half not. 

He rolls his eyes and grabs the remote to the tv and starts up the movie. When he has the movie up and running he leans back, placing one foot on the coffee table and his arms draping across the back of the couch, accidentally brushing your neck sending shivers down your spine. 

I wonder what his hands would feel like wrapped around it.

Ew. You shake the image out of your head. You should not be thinking about those kinds of things. He is a peer, nothing else. 

As your eyes fixate on the screen you feel a soft hand graze your neck, this time with a purpose.

“This is a nice necklace.” Josh states while playing with it gently, occasionally brushing against your skin. 

Wow Josh Kiszka being nice, something you would have never expected.

“Did you get this from one of your 12 boyfriends?”

“Funny Josh, My parents actually got this for me before they got divorced but thanks for making this awkward now.” You say with a fake grin.

You could seem him shut down a moment, realizing he hit a nerve. 

“Ohhh, it’s okay Josh! Being a dickhead is just in your nature, I totally get it!” You shoot him down with your sarcasm. 

He grins for a moment, making him feel better that he didn’t absolutely ruin the night. 

As you get through the first couple scenes you begin to get uncomfortable in your seat. You look over to Josh noticing he's still paying his attention to the screen, making disgusted faces every once and a while at the acting. 

You decide to stretch your legs out a bit, turning your body parallel with the couch, facing towards Josh. He doesn’t seem to mind but glances over when he feels movement on the couch. A few moments pass and you feel a hand placed on your ankle. You glance over and see his hand resting upon it, rubbing light circles.

You hate to admit it, but you kind of like it. 

As the scenes went on Josh had scooched much closer to the point where your legs were bunched up in front of you. Josh noticed and gently pulled your legs so they were stretched out across his lap, giving him more leg to rub. His hand traveled higher and higher to the point where it was resting just under the thin fabric of your shorts. Your heart was beating rapidly, and the only thing that could have made it worse was the Lay All Your Love On Me scene. The scene that you and Josh both despised, but there was a different feeling this time. 

Your core heats up and you feel a wetness forming between your legs. Your eyes travel down to where his hand rests, then you look back up and make direct eye contact with him. Your eyes begin to wander down the rest of his body and they stop right below his waist. His gray sweatpants weren’t good at hiding much because you could see the imprint of his dick fighting against the fabric.

You smirk a little, realizing that he is looking right at you.

“What?” Josh raises his eyebrow at you.

“Oh nothing, you're just not very good at hiding how you feel.” You smile smugly at him. 

He begins to look down and tries to readjust himself to conceal his erection.

“It's okay, I’m flattered Josh.” You begin to push off the couch to stand in front of him waiting for him to communicate what the next move was.

He gives a slow look up and down your body before smirking at you. Without knowing, you are being pulled down onto him. You straddle him, your legs resting on either side of his legs. As your hands drape around his , you feel two hands forcefully grab your ass. He begins to grind you back and forth on his hardened length. Your lips connect and tongues fight for dominance. 

Josh separates. “How does that feel mama? You like that?” He whispers seductively in your ear.

Your head is thrown back with a moan, leaving your neck completely exposed to him. His lips attach themselves to your neck, leaving wet, sloppy kisses. Followed by some hard sucking and biting, soothing the area with his tongue after.

What the fuck is going on. Why was this happening? Yesterday you would have thrown up at the idea of this ever happening, and now you never want it to end. 

As he stops attacking on your neck you decide it is your turn. Your lips forcefully attach to his neck giving him no time to react. You suck hard on the tender skin, as a whimper slides past his lips.

“You like that Josh? What's making you feel this way? Me grinding on your cock, the sucking on your neck, or my tits rubbing on your chest? What is it, baby?”

“Fuck y/n. You’re so fucking sexy… god.” He praises you.

“So desperate for me Josh.”

Josh’s hands release from your ass and drag up your back slowly leading them up to your chest. He grabs your tits through your thick crewneck, but that doesn’t stop him from realizing the lack of bra you have on.

“No bra, y/n? Were you expecting something to happen tonight, like the little slut you are?” 

He leans into your ear, “You tell me if you don’t want it, understand?”

You nod in agreement. 

“Words mama come on.” Josh pleads with you.

“Yes, Josh.”

He smirks, “Good girl.” His hands begin to travel down and go beneath your sweatshirt, going right back up to where they had been. He starts off by slowly massaging them in his palms and switches to a painful pinch of your nipples, eliciting a moan. ”You feel so nice baby. Your tits are fucking perfect. Let me see them.” 

Your hand finds the hem of your crew neck and lifts it up just enough to reveal yourself to him.

“Fuckkk y/n.” He looks so turned on right now and you find it slightly amusing. 

He leans his face down to your tits and begins to leave kisses all around them and ends it with a hard suck right on top of your tit, leaving a huge purple mark.

“You look so sexy sucking on my tit, Joshy.” You speak as you continue grinding down on him, supplying yourself with the smallest amount of friction. 

He goes down and circling your nipple with his tongue. He felt so good, it made you wonder what else that tongue could do.

“Want more of a taste?” You tease. His eyes lead down to your core that has been rocking back and forth on his cock all night.

He smirks, and lifts you up while standing up, laying you down on the couch.

He leaves a few kisses down your body before reaching your shorts. His fingers hook onto the waistband about to pull them down before you hear the door creak open. 

You immediately pull your shirt down and sit up to see who it is.

It is Jake coming in with his guitar case. He was supposed to be gone all night?

“Oh shit!” Jake says before shielding his eyes and turning away.

“What the fuck Jake! What are you doing here?”

“Practice got done early.” He says still facing the opposite way, eyes covered. 

“Anddddddd… You're supposed to be somewhere else right now though.”

Jake’s eyes widened. “Yeah yeah I know… I just was dropping this off before heading over to Bens.”  

He quickly throws his guitar down and runs out the door.

You begin to stand up and grab your stuff. “I thought he was going to Scotts?”

“Just got the names mixed up I guess.” He was smooth with his response, but knowing deep down it was a line of shit.

You place your bag around over your shoulder. “Goodnight Josh. Doesn’t seem like you should have any problems on Monday.” You smirk, leaving him there with only the empty thoughts of you. 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Taglist:

@demonrat444 @gvfstuddedmajesty @jordie-gvf @jazzyfigz @mar-rein12 @terry-66 @gvfmarge

[t-allyitup]

random things i think the cul de sac kids like

nazz: blue raspberry flavored slurpees, scott pilgrim, black waterline makeup, those barrettes that snap closed and pinch ur fingers, dark chocolate, usher, the smell of gasoline

jimmy: funky shaped mirrors, imitation coconut, neon green, possums, wedge sandals, elephant ears (like the food), the humidifier in his room that is currently collecting mold

edd: gorillaz, purple jolly ranchers, grape flavored anything, humid summers before the rain comes when the sky is dark, white tea, linen fabric, prank calls (his fav mischief)

may: collecting bottle caps, headbands, gilmore girls, skorts, towel fabric (i think it's called terry cloth), eating apple pie filling right from the bag, cherry blossom olay body wash, getting to stay home sick from school

rolf: polyester (shhh), super hot weather, blue socks that match his hair, the olympics, brokeback mountain, being alone, clip art, shakira, getting sunburns

ed: isle of the dogs (he cried), orange faygo, those rap music videos from 1997-2003, helium balloons (for sinister [inhalation] and regular reasons), falling asleep on facetime, having people in his room, gift giving, sleeping with an eyemask, salt and vinegar popcorn

eddy: those sweaty scary naps, cookies and cream milkshakes, pillow pets, white chicks (the movie), confetti cannons, carnations, zebra print, ric flair, sleeping face down on the pillow

kevin: wrestling (but he won't tell anyone because "that's gay"), nerds (candy), sleepovers (he hates sleeping alone), orange juice, sleeping with the fan on/background noise, coming back from the beach with sand everywhere

sarah: sprite, commercials with catchy jingles, christmas themed movies, climbing trees, grimms fairy tales, the smell of the lake, fake freckles made of makeup

marie: doja cat, slept-in makeup, off brand frosted flakes with strawberry milk, gangster/mobster movies, silicone/plastic jewelry in neon colors, screaming until her throat hurts, checking people's location on find my/life360

lee: pear scented body spray, men with tattoos, oat milk, polar bears, running until her chest hurts, wintergreen toothpaste, the taste of chapstick, late nights during the summer when you can hear the cicadas

jonny: the fast and furious movies, hail, roobios tea with 5 packets of sugar, paleontology classes, sleeping through 15 alarms, honeydew melon boba tea, muslin blankets, tearing through 15 energy drinks in 25 seconds

this is just stuff that makes sense to me imo like they just like these things. can't explain any further. tried to include some weirdly specific/normally considered weird things too bc i humanize them deeply

[aspiringtrashpanda]

Find the prompt list HERE.

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

DAY 26 Prompt: Horror Movie/Game C/W: Mind control, attempted drowning 1.9k

Day 26 - Horror Game/Movie

The title screen of Siren Seaside: Paradise Shores practically emanated sunshine. The beautifully rendered waves lapped at a sandy shore, a rhythmic rush of water timed to the motions. Gulls cawed in the background, looping a predetermined route through fluffy clouds slowly panning to the right, slipping behind the row of tropical, fruit-bearing trees that led away from the golden beach. 

You couldn’t hit PLAY any faster, excited to start the cozy seaside-life RPG that had popped up on your D.D.D. overnight. Levi must have sent an invite code to your device sometime after midnight, the code meant to automatically install the game. 

He knew you were a fan of slice-of-life games, farming simulators and the like, so a gesture such as this wasn’t that odd. If anything, he had given you something to look forward to after classes ended. 

Now comfortable in your casual clothes, your uniform draped over one of the many chairs in your room, you decided to get right to Siren Seaside. Perching on the edge of your mattress, you figured you could relocate later, once you got a feel for the gameplay and what was required to progress. 

A cute little gull in a sailor’s cap flew down from the picturesque sky, stuck the landing in the sand and waved to the little avatar you had designed to resemble yourself. 

“Welcome to Paradise Shores!” The bird squawked. “We’re so happy you could join us.”

You smiled down at your D.D.D. screen, the gull’s cheery dance a fleeting moment before it deflated. An animated exhale told you the bird was disappointed. “See, Paradise Shores has fallen on some hard times lately…But surely, you can help us!”

The jingling music seemed to swell in the background as the bird perked up. It was a pleasant melody, all marimba, bass, and the soft tap of a snare. It was certainly evocative of a vacation. What you wouldn’t give for a piña colada in a coconut husk, right about now. 

“The island goddess is upset with us, for we’ve been too busy to worship at her altar…” Lifting its speckled wing to rub at its brow, careful not to knock its tiny sailor’s hat, it shot you a sheepish grin. With new enthusiasm, it explained, “That’s where you come in! If you can appease the goddess with some foraged offerings, she’s sure to breathe new life into Paradise Shores!”

The screen swiped to the next part of the tutorial, a graphic of waves pulling in the tide as instructions popped up onto your screen, as well as a request to grant access to other apps on your D.D.D.

FIRST TASK: Earn Paradise Points by moving throughout your world. Siren Seaside requires access to your camera, location, and fitness data to promote interacting with your reality to progress in game. Try taking a few steps while looking through your camera! 

You did as you were asked, rising from your bed and navigating through your room, through the lens of your D.D.D. You laughed, watching as the screen shifted with your movements. If you stepped towards the left, shifted your body in the same direction, you could make out a path leading into the island’s jungle. Swinging the device to the right pointed towards the pier. 

There was a voice singing along to the music now. Something low and jolly, harmonizing nicely with the brisk marimba. It resonated in your bones, an almost familiar nostalgia to the notes singing incomprehensible lyrics. 

Your gut told you to head for the pier. 

Stepping out of your room, you navigated towards your goal while walking through the House of Lamentation. You learned quickly that it didn’t matter what direction in which you were stepping in your reality. As long as you kept the screen angled to your destination in-game, then you progressed towards the pier. 

You were starting to notice a twang to the voice chanting in the music. It warmed your heart, the quirky little intonation choices the musician made. The melody seemed to swell with every step towards the waves that lapped at the legs of the pier, nearly knocking the pastel barnacles from the support beams. It was almost mesmerizing, the way the sea moved with the music, cresting at the highest note of the melodic malloting and falling away at the command of the voice.

The ocean itself glittered like jewels, freshly polished and examined beneath a spotlight. The seabreeze dusted your cheeks, cool and salty, and you wanted nothing more than to just submerge yourself into the water. It had been so long since you had been to the beach. Memories of dipping your toes into the shallows, laughing as you were sprayed by a nearby wave when it crashed onto the shore, flashed behind your eyes. 

Life was easier back then, wasn’t it?

You wet your dry, chapped lips, watching the water on the screen undulate in time to the steady beat of the soundtrack. You had a sports drink in the fridge, didn’t you? That would certainly quench your thirst. 

Allowing the tap of the snare, the clash of the hi-hat to accent the clap of your feet against the ground, you molded your movements to the melody swimming through your mind. Two steps forward, two pretty lines, almost cooed, by that achingly familiar voice. You stepped to the right–the music didn’t like that.

But the left? The marimba jingled in delight. 

Your throat itched, and no matter how much saliva you managed to swallow, it wasn’t enough. You were thirsty. So very thirsty. Longing for those better times, those beach days long gone where you could sip lemonade while the waves lapped at your ankles, at your waist, at your collarbones.

You were almost in the kitchen, the sports drink beckoning you. One sip and you’d be there, upon tropical shores. You were so parched, dehydrated, left to shrivel up and die in the scorching savannah in the southern region of the Devildom. That calming voice, the voice that promised relief. 

You just needed to reach into the fridge. 

One more step, and you would quench your thirst, dip your toes into the metaphorical ocean within the bottle. The voice encouraged you, praised your resolve. You were doing so well. You were going to get everything you wanted.

Just one.

More.

Step.

“H-HEY!” 

It was a distant sound, barely even perceptible as you settled into the cool bliss of the game, spirals of blue cradling your limbs and satisfying that pesky thirst. Oh, how sweet the taste of the drink, of the gentle crooning in your ear. Drink, it sang. Drink, and you will find peace. The way you sunk into the abyss, supported by those sugary sounds of comfort, floating in what you knew to be the heaven you had always longed for…Why, this game knew you better than you knew yourself.

SPLASH!

A flash of indigo, a tug on the collar of your shirt. Everything moved so slowly, sluggishly, like you were being pulled through mud. You felt the fingers dig into your wrist to check your pulse. You felt the quivering lips on your own, breathing life into your lungs. 

Next thing you knew, you were spewing water from your lungs, oxygen scorching the inside of your chest as your eyes flew open. 

“ARE YOU INSANE?!” Leviathan nails dug into your shoulders, frenzied eyes glistening as tears tracked down his face. Looming over you, he nearly eclipsed the pretty undulation of the aquarium reflection on his ceiling. 

You blinked. Your eyes stung, your lashes wet and your sinuses on fire. Each inhale shocked your system, and you barely dislodged his grip to roll over before you spit up water into his face. 

“I…” Speaking hurt. It hurt so much. But Levi was crouched there, confusion clashing the panic in his amber gaze, and you knew you had to explain. With a cough, you tried again, “I thought I was in the kitchen? I was so thirsty.”

Levi glanced around his room, as if he thought he was missing something. “Why would you think you’re in the kitchen?!” 

Spluttering, all you could manage was a meek, “How did you know where to find me?” 

“Because you passed everyone like a zombie and they’re freaking the Devildom out!” Levi threw up his arms, his aura overwhelming, pressing into you from where he paced around his room. It was oppressive, all fear and paranoia and the slightest pinch of betrayal. 

The world seemed fuzzy, as if you were peering in from outside your body. What happened? Why were you drenched? Why were you in Levi’s room? 

Why was he losing his shit? 

“Seriously!” His canines glinted in the blue light of the aquarium, “What were you thinking?”

Your tongue heavy in your mouth, it took effort to respond, “I was playing Siren Seaside… I was headed towards the pier…”

Brilliant eyes flicked to the D.D.D. glitching in the vice grip of your hand, water damage frying its insides. “Siren Seaside? Where did you hear about that?”

“You didn’t install it for me?”

“N-no?”

Something inside you went cold, an ice cube plopped into your stomach. Your voice dropping, piecing the puzzle together as you admitted, “It was on my D.D.D. when I woke up…”

“That’s because it’s cursed. It’s a cursed game!” Though Levi voiced your realization aloud, it failed to soothe your humiliation, your terror. “It’s meant to trick players into drowning themselves!” 

“Oh.” You answered dumbly, gooseflesh erupting over your forearms, creeping up your neck. You blinked your aching eyes, finally acknowledging the smudges and handprints on the glass of Levi’s massive aquarium. 

You supposed it made sense. Sirens were known to lure people to their death by drawing them in with a dangerous melody. You should have realized that. Hell, you had witnessed Levi and Beel struggle through making a cocktail while listening to Lucifer’s recording of a siren’s song. How had you missed something so obvious? 

Though the song, the voice, had felt so familiar. That’s what had mesmerized you, wasn’t it? That comforting twang, that gentle laugh. The game had used a voice that you associated with safety.

“I’m…” Levi’s breath ghosted over your ear, and you heard him plop down behind you. Before you could ask him what he was doing, his arms wound around your waist, pulled your spine to his chest. His long legs–sweatpants damp from the unavoidable splash of tugging you from the tank–bracketed yours, his entire frame curling around you as if to protect you from further harm. “I’m so glad I caught you.”

Your breath caught in your throat. He was trembling, you could feel his bones rattling against yours. Squeezing you tight, he nuzzled his face into the column of your throat, and you could have sworn you heard him whine something solemn and mournful. 

“Levi!” You protested, his grip around your middle turning a little too demon, “I can’t breathe!”

“Gah! S-sorry!” With a yelp, he loosened his arms, but refused to move from his position. It hurt your heart–Leviathan wasn’t the most physically affectionate of your housemates. You must have really scared him to prompt such a reaction. 

Hooking his chin over your shoulder, he gestured to the device flickering in your hand. In a commanding voice, low and rather unlike him, Levi insisted,  “Now, give me your D.D.D. We’re putting it in rice and deleting that game right away.”

As he grumbled to himself, his octave reflective of his distress, you couldn’t help but think…

That pretty crooning that harmonized beneath the marimba hadn’t sounded that different. 

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

OBEY ME! MONTH MASTERLIST

[cloudcountry]

twst oneshots masterlist

waltz of the flowers

if you play your cards right

i'll never be sick of you

love me (for a while)

almost.

movie night

proper compensation

raffle 2nd prize

chamomile tea and honey

cracks

sit on my lap & do my eyeliner

piggyback rides

bend the rules for mc!

mer-shrimpy?

shipwrecked! (1.5k follower celebration)

the kissing experiment

muse of mine

you octopi my thoughts

unobtainable

you're beautiful

inking

you don't have to leave

part of my world

mushrooms and mayhem

lovely little specimen

headpats from little shrimpy

shortcake!

music notes of the heart

i've got you!

coconut flavored toothpaste

meet him halfway

proper compensation

breaking the mold

the pursuit of beauty

secrecy & scars

well enough

flaming & flustered

if you let me.

what it means to be a shroud

just confess already!

raffle 3rd prize

all content is platonic.

because you would do the same

fireflies

familiar soul

flower crowns & a sunlit dream

a sleepy safe space

trust

special

bird brain

the best surprise.

owe him.

confession.