#tj writes fanfic

[starlightoffandoms]

Dean's a nurse who moonlights saving people off the record who can't afford medical assistance any other way. One night he gets blindfolded and taken to help save a man's life. That man is the crime boss Castiel Dmitri. Dean's life turns interesting when Castiel decides he wants more from Dean.

Start reading the fic here!

[poisonheadcrabsalesman]

IDs in alt

A fan-edit project of what an in-universe zine might look like. What would get passed around by all the little people trying to keep their Spartans going?

[thunderjackal]

are we just going to ignore that 'when the drumbot misses his first beat' COULD BE ABOUT HIS HEART?? NOT HIS DRUMS????

had this revalation and had to write something about it immediantly, this is just the intro the rest is on a03

The drumbot knows exactly what it means when he pauses for a moment, breath hitched in synthetic lungs. He knows exactly what it means when he realises the absence of the ever present beat in his chest, the only thing really keeping him tied to his soul. It is only a beat, one beat, one second. Yet it is one beat that is missed. He knows he is dying, that his heart will slow, and in the end? He'll be left a metal husk, no longer even a shell of the man he once was, for he'd lost that long ago. It was only a matter of time really, all things must end. A heart can only take so much.

He considered the violent and fiery deaths that would become of those he called friends, their mechanisms failing them once and for all. Engineered lungs scorched by blackened fumes, wires ripped and torn from cybernetic wings, biomechanical heart pierced straight through, robotic eyes shattered, synthetic brain deprived of its precious oxygen, bionic arm ripped from its socket, wooden body abandoned by the soul.

All pointless, all inevitable. All deaths that amounted to nothing, and he was sure his would be the same.

[purplenickel]

Who wants to read Green Creek boys fic? I'll just put it here for yall these are both post brothersong

[tjisntnice]

I fuck myself over and over (1961)

stabbing, drug use

Darry walked into the cold evening, glancing around him to make sure no one was watching, before pulling out a cigarette.

Honestly, he wasn’t sure where he was going. Paul was busy with his parents, and Hudson had told him about this new girlfriend he had over today.

Darry looked over his shoulder when he noticed the car following him. It was a red mustang. A Soc car. Darry moved to the side of the road, wishing he had Paul with him. No one messed with him when he had Paul. The guys normally left Darry alone. It didn’t feel great, knowing they only liked him because of Paul, but whatever.

The mustang got closer, and Darry moved further. He didn’t have a good feeling about this. He grabbed the switchblade in his pocket, ready to use it if necessary. He looked behind him again when he heard the car speed up. Sighing in relief when it passed him, Darry loosened his hold on his switchblade. Glancing down to kick a rock in front of him, Darry paused when he heard the motor stop.

Looking up, Darry saw the mustang now ahead of him. It had taken a sharp right, blocking Darry’s way. Darry took a sharp breath, relief replaced with fear. 3 guys came out of the car, none of which Darry recognized.

He backed up, preparing to make a run for it. But before he could try, one of the guys had a hold of his arms, tugging backwards so Darry lost his footing.

Darry grunted as he fell, cursing under his breath. Darry snapped his eyes open, not noticing that they fell closed, when he heard the familiar sound of a switchblade opening. He doubled his efforts in fighting, trying to wiggle out of the guy's grasp or at least get his own blade.

It hit Darry that these boys weren't the ones from school, they were older. College guys. He could smell the booze on them, could hear the way they were slurring their words.

“Looks like we caught a grease.” One of the guys said, a sneer forming on his face. He was the one with the blade.

Darry glared at him, briefly thinking about spitting in his face. Another glance at the blade told him not to.

One of the guys grabbed his hair and pulled his head back. Darry gasped, clenching his jaw.

Now, with one guy holding arms back, one holding head, and the last one in front of him, Darry was completely vulnerable.

“Hit him, James!” The guy behind him said. James grinned at him, before reeling his empty fist back and striking Darry in the diaphragm. Darry gasped, body folding into itself. They finally let go of his head and Darry looked down, coughing. He barely got a glimpse of the blade before it was plunged into his stomach.

Sucking in a breath, Darry was finally allowed to collapse onto the sidewalk. The boys walked back to their car, laughing and stumbling.

Darry lifted himself up, groaning in pain. Sitting up, he placed his hand over the stab wound and pressed down. Gasping slightly at the new wave of pain the action brought, Darry closed his eyes and tried to figure out what to do.

He could go to Paul’s house and risk being kicked out. Or, he could go back home and risk worrying his parents.

Or he could go to Hudson.

Darry hated to bother him when he already does so much, but he didn’t seem to have a choice. His house was closest and Darry was losing a lot of blood real fast.

Inhaling, Darry used his free hand to push himself off the ground. He exhaled once he was standing up right, grimincing when he felt the wound start to throb in pain. Hudson’s house was about a half a mile away.

Taking another deep breath, Darry began the long walk (stumble) to the house.

After a tiring, slow paced walk, Darry finally got to the doorstep of Hudson’s place. Breathing heavily, Darry brought his fist to the door. Knocking, he heard the shuffling of feet inside, muffled voices of two people. Before Darry could change his mind and walk away, the door opened.

“Darlin’?” Said the southern accent Darry has grown to love. Darry couldn’t help it, he let out a low whimper, his body crashing down onto Hudson.

Hudson grunted under Darry weight, looking at him curiously before grabbing him by the upper shoulders and dragging him inside.

“Who’s the wet dog?” The girl on the couch asked. Hudson glared at her, hauling Darry onto the armchair by the door. Darry groaned as the movement agitated his wound. He turned to the side and finally allowed himself to throw up.

When Darry was done, Hudson left to go get some cleaning supplies. Darry groaned in his spot on the chair, turning his head to cough up what he hoped wasn't blood. Though judging by the sound the girl made, it probably was.

Breathing heavily, Darry took in the girl. She had brown hair, blue eyes, and clearly high out of her mind. Darry traveled his eyes to her arm and saw that she hadn’t bothered to take the belt off it yet. She was pretty, a clear Soc girl. The thought made Darry's stomach turn.

“Fuck you staring at, mutt?” She sneered. Darry averted his eyes.

“Nothin’” He mumbled, praying for Hudson's return.

And as if God was real, Hudson turned the corner to the living room. Darry perked up, glad to not be alone with the girl.

“You gonna puke anymore?” Hudson asked, bending down to clean up the mess. He paused at the sight of blood, before going back to the task on hand. Darry groaned, coughing.

“No, but I'm still bleedin’ out.” He hissed. Hudson looked up, raising his eyebrows. Seeming to finally notice the wound, Hudson started cussing.

“Shit! Why didn’t ya mention that?!” He yelled, startling both Darry and the girl.

“I thought you knew!” Darry shouted back, startled by the change of events. Hudson abandoned the cleaning, running to get first aid.

“Damnit kid, thought you knew better than that.” Hudson was muttering, walking back in. Darry didn’t get the chance to reply when Hudson came to him and yanked his shirt up.

“Shit!” Darry swore, throwing his head back. Hudson muttered an apology.

Darry kept his eyes on the mystery girl the entire time Hudson spent stitching him up. He tried not to grimace or let the tears fall, and she was nice enough to keep eye contact with him.

“Alright darling, all done.” Hudson said, standing up. Darry breathed out a sigh of relief.

Collecting the medical materials, Hudson walked out the room.

“You okay, kid?” The girl asked. Darry let his eyes focus on her before nodding and allowing his head to fall back. Hudson came back holding a small bag.

“Take this.” He instructed Darry, handing him a small tablet from the bag. Darry blinked up at him.

“What is it?” He mumbled, reaching out for the pill.

“Just put it in your mouth.” Hudson said, rolling his eyes and sitting on the coffee table.

“Not the first time you’ve said that.” Darry grumbled, forgetting about the other girl. He put the white tablet in his mouth and swallowed it dry. “You gonna tell me what it is now?” Darry asked.

“100 milligrams of Fentora.” Hudson deadplanned, moving to stand up.

“What?!” Darry yelled, sitting up. He barely registered the pain in his side.

“Lay back down!” Hudson said between gritted teeth, snapping his fingers and pointing to the couch. Darry obeyed.

It wasn’t often Hudson got mad at him.

[milk-crater]

Hey milk-crater, for you fic prompt I would like to Request TJP and Francesco Akira and the Tarot Card was the wheel of fortune.

Thank you :)

Thanks for the prompt! Sorry the fic is short, but I hope you like it.

Akira had assumed his life would forever chart upward: he was a fireball, after all, shooting into the sky.  

Life did not turn out that way. Instead of uninterrupted glory, every win was followed by a downfall. He’d win tag team belts with TJP only to lose them soon after. He gained a friend in Dan only to have the bastard turn traitor.

But if life were a mix of dizzying highs and deep dark lows, at least he had TJP. TJP was so solid, so strong, so steady. He’d never change.

When Akira saw TJP’s monstrous hand reach out from the coffin, only then did he realize that TJP was just as mutable as everything else in this world.

[wrestle-catboy-vault]

Mirrored Memory [catboy ue fanfic]

Ok so, TJ is looking for a warm place to stay the night, and some bougie show breeder's house happened to leave one of the windows open so lil teenage kitty scurries in

And accidentally finds himself in the kitty nursery

And little Akira is like, newly adopted and separated from his litter for the first time so of course he's home sick and can't sleep

And at first TJ thinks the place is empty but he spots Frankie and they make eye contact and he's like "ohhhh shit I'm busted"

He expects Frankie to start crying or something and then the owners are definitely calling hybrid control and he'd be in BIG trouble for "attacking a house cat"

But Frankie is really curious about this cat, cause he's never seen anyone like TJ before, he's never seen a stray before

It's not hard to think he's young enough to have never seen another hybrid outside his litter before

So he bounds right up to him because who's ever heard of self preservation? Not Akira that's for sure

And he starts asking questions to TJP, like

Who are you? Where'd you come from? Why'd you come in through the window, you're supposed to use the door? Why do you have scratches all over you? Why are your clothes so old? What breed are you?

And the whole time tj is standing in the open window, it's like mid-winter so he's wet from the waist down from melting snow and there's a sharp wind from behind him that makes him shiver real bad and Akira finally notices his teeth chattering

So he sneaks TJ down to the rest of the house, careful not to wake the owners, and they throw TJ's jacket in the dryer, and then go to the kitchen where Akira struggles to make him some hot soup

The next morning TJ wakes up in Frankie's nursery, buried in blankets with his tummy full and warm for the first time in months

Akira left him a poorly spelled little note and a half eaten plate of breakfast. The note says that he had to go to training today and he left TJ half his breakfast in case he was hungry again, and that he doesn't know where TJ came from but he's glad he has a friend now because this place is big and empty and he hated being alone

TJ reads the note as he eats, and when he's done he grabs his jacket and scampers back out the same window he snuck in and never looks back.

Because as kind as Frankie was to him, staying here is just too risky. The owners will find him and kick him out, or some stray he has heat with see him prancing around with a show kitten and that would make Akira a target, or hybrid control would recognize his face and lock him up. Too many things could go wrong

Years later TJP is tentatively staying in a hybrid foster home. Despite the others all having checkered pasts like him, he still feels like an outsider. Which might be why he's laying awake in the rafters when he hears the quietest *tink!* as someone slips in the window.

A little homeless Akira is fresh on the streets and he's starving.

Luckily he's welcome to stay (after the scare of TJP pounce tackling him from the shadows and interrogating his intentions)

The two don't recognize each other from that one night when they were both kids, and maybe they never will

But Frankie still likes to share his breakfast with TJ ❤️

Bonus: young tjp and akira designs

[glasshouses-and-stones]

Writing Patterns

Thanks @suseagull04 for tagging me! This was fun :)

List the first (optionally: and last) sentence of your last 10 (or less) ao3 works. My ao3: glasshouses_and_stones

From newest to oldest:

▪︎why don't we kick it up a notch? (let my hands give it a shot)

(hockey rpf, Jamie Drysdale/Trevor Zegras)

The adrenaline from the game is still buzzing under Jamie's skin when he and Tregor bang through their front door, a trail of equipment bags and tossed dressed shoes forgotten in their wake.

He kind of wants to die a little.

-

▪︎a place they still put sugar in their iced tea

(RWRB, Alex/Henry)

Henry thinks he's going to die.

He was wrong.

-

▪︎i'll do everythin' i can to help you through

(hockey rpf, Mitch Marner/Auston Matthews)

It was a shitty game.

They don't have any reason to stay awake after that.

-

▪︎How to Spring Clean

(How to be a Normal Person, Gus/Casey)

It’s that time of year again!

Whatever.

-

▪︎rough on the surface, but you cut through like a knife

(hockey rpf, Mitch Marner/Dylan Strome)

He’s annoying.

"Now, how about some pizza?"

-

▪︎why celebrities should NEVER look themselves up

(hockey rpf, Mitch Marner/Auston Matthews)

Mitch thought it was funny at first.

Mitch just huffs sleepily before he's drifting off into a dream-less doze.

-

▪︎want

(original work, f/f)

The candles have almost burnt out.

I think I feel something press into my forehead before I fall under.

-

▪︎Suddenly

(Watcher Entertainment rpf, gen)

It's eight in the fucking morning—too early for Ryan to be up, but he doesn't think he got any sleep last night anyways, so what's the point of just laying there?

Suddenly, sure, but it happened all the same.

-

▪︎the potential of us

(hockey rpf, Mitch Marner/Auston Matthews/William Nylander)

It’s a quiet night in.

"I guess it was always you two."

-

▪︎pink camellias, heliotrope, and morning glories

(hockey rpf, Mitch Marner/Auston Matthews)

Honestly, Shakira is such a queen (Hips Don't Lie is a banger, for real), and Mitch is about ready to bow down at her feet because she is doing God's work.

He falls asleep with a smile on his face.

-

This honestly all over the place, lmao. I start most of my stories off very choppy with a short sentence, and my next sentence usually elaborates on it. I think its supposed to be a hook, but who knows? I like it.

Tagging anyone who sees this and who wants to do it! Please tag me in it if you do it. I'd love to read yours :)

[zai-ichii]

I wrote a new thing 🧡👑🩷

[not-the-only-one-around]

claim your “i used alpha, beta, and omega before it was normal” ticket here

[starlightoffandoms]

Comment on old fic people!!!!

Been having a shit few weeks and I got comments on fics that are 10 and 5 years old. Lemme tell you that made my whole damn day. Y'all don't understand. Like it literally turned my mood around.

Also I stay forgetting what I write so it was fun going back to read old fics. Soooo

COMMENT ON OLD FICS!

[softevnstan]

³.⍭ 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐚𝐧 & 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐆𝐨 𝐖𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠

Title: Everything Can & Will Go Wrong Rating:  Mature, Explicit Pairing(s): Omega!TJ Hammond/Alpha!Andy Barber Character(s): TJ Hammond, Andy Barber, Douglas Hammond, Margaret Hammond, Elaine Barrish Hammond, Bud Hammond, Paula Duffy

Tags: a/b/o dynamics, hookups, mile-high club, scenting, knotting, bottom tj hammond, top andy barber, praise kink, mating cycles/ heat, anal sex, oral sex, no mpreg, alpha/omega. SMUT - minors DNI. fluff, daddy issues, helicopter parents, mentions/implied drug-use,

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | TJ, an omega, is on his way to his retreat home in Washington state to ride out his heat; The only stick in the mud is that he's being escorted around by Andy Barber, an alpha, who's no-nonsense and won't let TJ have any fun. Stuck with an unexpected layover in San Francisco, TJ already feels the start of his heat coming on and he's running out of time. Deciding to stay in a hotel for the night, their luck is even more jaunted when they only have one bed between the two of them. Right when TJ thinks things can't get any worse, the universe always finds a way to prove him wrong.

𝗧𝗼𝘁𝗮𝗹 𝗪/𝗖 | n/a

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐮𝐩𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐬

IMPORTANT: to see my posts, change your community labels.

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒: i. | ii. | iii. | iv. | v. | vi. | vii. | viii. | ix. | x. | xi. | xii. | xiii. | xiv. | xv. | xvi. | xvii. | xviii.

[yuukei-yikes]

ive always believed azami should be able to get out of the daze. NO it makes no sense. but it could hang out with mary and theyd be a family and bond and both be weird abt the modern world and thered be peace and love on planet earth

[thunderjackal]

WOAH GUYS LOOK I WROTE ANOTHER FIC HOW CRIMINAL OF ME. anyway the TMA hyperfixation has set in guys prepare for more of these, anyway here mroe about the fic

Like Real People Do -- G -- 4954 words -- Complete

“Statements huh?” Martin said with a small noise, somewhere between a laugh and a sigh, “Even when you're sick? You do know what a break is- right Jon?” The archivist opened his eyes, shifting in his position into an awkward pose so he could look at Martin, “Despite popular belief, I do in fact know what a break is.” He went silent for a moment, before continuing, “I think- I’ve been away from them for too long, it’s taking its toll. I thought if I-” “You thought if you could read a few it would make you feel better?” Martin finished for him, voice kind, “That Ceaseless Watcher needs to calm down, you’re sick and can't help it.” --- OR Jon is a little sick, has statement withdrawals and is overall the most pathetic man in existence. Martin comes to check in on him

[david3096]

Even if I wanted to.

I wrote a Tyrus fic! Here´s the link to AO3 if you want to read it there 😁

“Do you really have to go?” He doesn't quite know how to answer that question, he can see in his boyfriend's face a combination of sadness and sweetness, the two of them are lying on the floor of his house, with too many pillows around them, the TV is playing Cyrus' favorite music.

“Do you mean now or on the trip?” TJ asks with sincere curiosity before giving his boyfriend a kiss on the cheek. “Besides, wasn't spending all day together enough for you?” It's more a question to tease him than anything else and by the pout his boyfriend makes, he knows he's succeeded.

“No.” He answers, almost serious. “You know I never have enough time with you.” And okay, maybe that's one of the cheesiest things his boyfriend has said to him since they met, but, if he hadn't felt a rush of warmth start in his stomach and spread throughout his body, he would have teased him about it.

“I don't want to leave, Cy.” The truth is, it's a complicated situation. It's one of the last weekends they have off before going back to school, they had planned to go to the movies, eat at The Spoon, spend the afternoon making out and pretending to watch another movie... the ideal day for TJ.

But out of the blue, his grandmother decided to celebrate her birthday a month before her actual birthday. He thought it was kind of funny at first, but now he finds it annoying, he wants to spend as much time with Cyrus as possible, before school and other projects force them to see each other for an hour or two a day.

“I know.” That's his boyfriend's response, neither wants to admit how much the whole thing hurts. “It will be the first time we'll spend so many days away from each other.”

“I'll spend four days without you.” If TJ is honest, it didn't seem like such a big deal at first, but now that he has his suitcase packed and knows he has to go and not see his boyfriend for four days, plus put up with his relatives, he finds it boring and unbearable.

“We're kind of ridiculous, aren't we?” Cyrus has a big smile on his face as he says those words and TJ can do nothing but laugh and kiss him again.

For a few moments nothing is important, not the trip, not his family, not the time they'll spend apart, how cheesy they are, how sad it makes them. The only thing that matters to him is to feel and enjoy the touch of Cyrus' lips on his. Feeling his hands run over his body and him doing the same on his. All that matters is enjoying this moment to the fullest.

“Are you sure your grandmother can't celebrate her 75th birthday until next year?” That's the first thing his boyfriend says to him when they stop kissing and it only reminds him that he's the funniest guy in the world. Or maybe he's just in love but it's been over two years since they've been dating, so he thinks he's truly funny.

“I blame my Uncle Jack.” It's the only reason his grandmother has decided to bring her birthday forward, his Uncle Jack has lived in Spain for as long as he can remember and, truth be told, he's never spoken to him for more than an hour in his 16 years of life. So he's a little upset, but, his grandmother wants to have his whole family together and his father is excited to see his brother, so there's not much he can do. “I don't know him, but right now I hate him a little bit.”

“Don't hate him.” This is a good reminder that his boyfriend is the sweetest, most empathetic person he knows. “It will probably be a good opportunity to get to know him.”

“Or to get bored while everyone laughs and I text you telling you that I wish I was with you.” It's not the first time TJ has had to go out of town to a family reunion, but it is the first time he'll last more than two days with his dad's family so he pretty much knows what will happen.

“Honestly? That helps my self-esteem.” They both laugh and Cyrus surprises him by kissing him again and everything stops being important again, the only thing he wants to focus on is his boyfriend.

“You know?” TJ asks when his boyfriend ends the kiss. “I'm surprised that after two years your kisses still feel like the first one.”

“Like the very first one?” Cyrus arches his eyebrows and a wicked smile plays on his lips, he knows he shouldn't have said that. “You mean when you almost threw up from excitement and nervousness and we had to try again five days later?” He laughs too, it's one of those things he never thought would happen and it's also a situation he never thought could make him laugh, but with Cyrus anything is possible.

“You're never going to let me forget it, are you?”

“Nope.” He affirms, still with a smile on his lips. “I'll make sure Buffy mentions it when she makes her toast at our wedding.”

“Our wedding?” Now it's his turn to grin mischievously. “I didn't think that...” Before he can finish, his boyfriend kisses him again. It's unfair, he also wanted to tease him a little bit, but to tell the truth, he's not complaining. He wants to kiss Cyrus as much as possible, it's going to be a long four days.

For a while they remain silent, they look at each other without saying anything and TJ looks again at the clock on the wall of the living room of his boyfriend's house, it's almost ten o'clock at night, he should have been home an hour ago.

“Muffin...” He pauses, he doesn't want to say goodbye, he never wants to leave, but it's time. He knows it and he hates it. “I really have to go now.”

“Just...” Cyrus makes a funny gesture, as if he can't bring himself to say the words. “Give me five more minutes.” He decides not to say anything, he prefers to kiss his boyfriend on the cheek and hug him tight, his head rests on TJ's chest, he really doesn't want to leave.

They spend 15 minutes cuddling, he doesn't care much, he wants to stay with Cyrus as long as possible.

“Cyrus...” His voice is barely a whisper, he tries to sound calm and sweet.

“I know, I know.” Cyrus breaks the embrace sadly. “You have to go.”

“Yeah, but that's not what I want to tell you.” He decides to put his hands on his boyfriend's cheeks, they both stare into each other's eyes. “I just want to remind you that I love you.” Two months ago, it was the first time TJ confessed to him that his feelings had reached a new level.

“I love you too.” He decides to give him a small kiss on the lips, if someone had told him three years ago that he would be kissing the cute boy he met one day on the swings in the park, he would never have believed it. And not only that, the cute boy on the swings loves him back. Life is full of good surprises.

Cyrus stands up, gives him a smile and offers him his hand to help him up, he accepts it without second thoughts.

They walk slowly to the door, his boyfriend steps forward and takes his leather jacket that he left on the wooden coat rack between the window and the door, gives it to him and he puts it on in an automatic movement, then takes out of the jacket pocket the military green beanie that Cyrus knitted for him when they celebrated six months of being boyfriends and puts it on.

“You look so handsome with the beanie.” Cyrus looks like he can't wait to kiss him again and they might, they're used to this ritual, spending too much time trying to say goodbye, taking advantage of every second to allow themselves to linger a few more minutes.

“So without a beanie you think I look gross?” He jokes, to avoid another such long kissing session, he really has to go, he has to finish arranging his backpack, check his suitcase, chat with his parents and hope they're not furious. Cyrus laughs, loudly, he'll miss hearing his laugh, the way he wrinkles his nose when he tries to be cute, feeling the warmth of his body against his own, his lips touching his and sometimes, running down over his body.

“You got me.” Cyrus replies, putting his hands on TJ's shoulders. “I only accepted to be your boyfriend after I imagined you wearing a beanie.” He laughs, but falls to temptation and kisses him again, it seems to take Cyrus by surprise, but soon they are in the same rhythm as always.

They finish kissing and stay like that for a while, their foreheads touching, Cyrus has his hands on his neck and TJ's hands are on his boyfriend's waist.

He knows there's no way that in four days he'll forget the way Cyrus smells, the way he touches him, the way he cares for him and loves him. Nor the things he likes, the quirks that drive him a little crazy, there's no way he'll forget that in four days.

But he knows he will miss him, he will miss him in a way he has never missed before.

He breaks away again, it's time to go, he can't put it off any longer.

“Muffin, take off that sad face.” He says sweetly, with his index finger on his boyfriend's chin, forcing him to look him straight in the eyes. “We'll send each other lots of pics and we'll talk all day long. I promise.” He kisses him on the cheek. “You won't even notice I'm gone.” He knows it's a lie.

“Neither I or my lips agree with that.” He cannot help but laugh and gives him a small kiss on the lips, so fleeting that it could only have lasted two seconds. It's probably the last one they'll have for the next four days. “Try to have fun at your family reunion, okay?” He can't help but groan, he'd almost forgotten how boring and tiring these days would be, he loves the effect Cyrus has on him.

“I don't promise much.” By the face Cyrus makes, his boyfriend also knows he's not kidding. “I'm going to miss you so much. I love you Cyrus, don't forget that.”

“I love you too TJ.” This time, they don't kiss, they let go completely, Cyrus opens the door and watches him walk through it. “Don't forget that either.”

“I couldn't, not even if I wanted to.” He doesn't say a joke even though he's dying to. “See you Tuesday.”

“See you Tuesday, I love you.”

“I love you too.” He starts walking home with the cold January wind hitting his face, the feeling of regret creeping in without warning, he wishes he could tell his parents that he doesn't want to go, that he wants to stay with Cyrus for as long as possible. He knows he still can't, besides, he wants to see his grandmother.

He sighs, but before sadness and homesickness can take over, his phone buzzes three times, it's texts from Cyrus.

I love you TJ.

I miss you already.

Don't forget to bring me a gift when you get back.

He can't help but smile, the same warmth as always appears in his stomach and runs through his whole body, Tuesday can't come fast enough.

[fandomdancer]

Patching Wounds

Fandom: Baa Baa Black Sheep

Pairing: Jim Gutterman/OC

Rating: T

Word Count: 3,468

Summary: While patching up a newcomer to Vella la Cava, Nurse Laura Tate discovers the man he was fighting is a face from her past.

A/N: Comments appreciated.

September, 1943

Laura smiled playfully at the blond-haired lieutenant in front of her, watching his eyes light up at the attention. He wasn’t the first young pilot she had seen who was doll dizzy, but she had to admit he was one of the cuter ones. He had sky-blue eyes and a curved, interesting mouth that lent him a sweet, innocent look. She had a feeling he was anything but.

“TJ Wiley, ma’am,” he said. “I’d shake your hand, but I wouldn’t want to get blood on you.” He indicated his hand, which had a split knuckle and definitely some drying blood.

“I’m a nurse, Lieutenant,” she replied, keeping an easy smile. “A little blood doesn’t scare me. What worries me is you not being able to walk straight in here.”

“It’s nothin’ serious,” he said. “I just got a bit of a headache.”

Laura grabbed a small flashlight and aimed it at his eye. His pupil didn’t contract as quickly as it should have, and she gave him a sympathetic look. “On your feet, Lieutenant.” She took a few steps away. “Walk over here.”

Wiley set his jaw and glared at her, then stood and started walking, He instantly began to weave slightly, and she saw the determined look on his face shift to concern before another flinch of pain furrowed his brow. “Am I doing all right?”

“You’re just fine, TJ,” she said, reaching out to catch his elbow and lead him back to the bed. “It just looks like you got your bell rung a little bit. We’ll have to keep you overnight.”

Wiley’s face fell, and the other pilot across the room laughed. “That’s what you get for puttin��� a burst in me, Wiley.”

Laura’s heart skipped a beat as it always did when she heard a Texas drawl, but this time she couldn’t help but look in the direction of the speaker. He looked nondescript from the back, a typical Marine pilot with short hair and dirt and blood on his uniform. But for a moment, he’d almost sounded like…

It’s not possible.

“I said I was sorry!” Wiley burst out next to her. “It was an accident! I don’t know why you don’t believe me!”

“It ain’t that I don’t believe you’re sorry!” The other pilot twisted around. “It’s that I don’t think you should be flyin’ if you don’t know how to keep your thumb off the damn button!”

Laura saw him before he saw her, but it was only a second’s difference or so. In glaring at Wiley, the other pilot’s eyes flicked to her. A stony mask of confusion furrowed his brow, and he turned away, but in those brief moments where she had a full look at his face, she had an intimate and terrible understanding of just how cruel and ironic the war…and the world…could be.

It's Jim.

It took her far too long to realize that both Heather and Wiley were staring at her, no doubt wondering why she’d frozen in place. Even worse, she realized she had to cross over by Heather and Jim to get a bowl of saline water for Wiley’s split knuckle. She forced herself to head for the sink beside Heather, doing all she could not to look at the man the other nurse was treating.

As she walked back over, however, her peripheral vision caught a hold of him. He was looking at her, and he still had a curious, confused look on her face. Her stomach twisted. Did he not remember her? Was she wrong? Was it possible that wasn’t Jim Gutterman sitting there? It had been a long time since she’d last seen him. He’d only been a teenager then, skinnier and more floppy-haired. Maybe she was wrong.

She reached Wiley and set down the water bowl. Wiley had a slightly sad, pouty turn to his mouth now, and he barely looked up at her when she gently took his hand and began to clean the split knuckle. He flinched as the salt water entered the wound. 

“Sorry, Lieutenant," she murmured.

“It’s not your fault,” he murmured softly.

Laura ducked her head until she got in his field of vision. It was obvious the comment from the other pilot had really cut deep. She could have sworn Wiley looked like he was trying not to cry. Once she managed to get his eyes on her, she offered him a warmer, more inviting smile. He instantly smiled back, though she could still see pain in his eyes. Empathy warmed her heart and she gave his fingers a tiny squeeze. “Your name’s TJ?” she asked.

“Yes ma’am.”

“All right.” She set down the towel and picked up a bandage, carefully curving his fingers so she could affix it firmly to his wound. “TJ, since I’m about to ask you to take your shirt off, how about you drop the ma’am? My name’s Laura.”

Across the room, the other pilot jerked and twisted around again. Although Laura tried to put all of her concentration on looking at Wiley, her peripheral vision again caught the expression on the other man's face. Moreso, she saw him reach up and touch his mouth, rubbing his fingers over his lips and jaw, and her heart rate tripled at the familiar motion. It was Jim. She felt herself grow dizzy as her mind struggled to process the implications of his presence, and she briefly wondered if this was all a strange, amazing dream. Jim was here. In an instant, she remembered so much about him. So much she’d never really forgotten but hadn’t chosen to think about because…

Because of what had happened the last time they’d seen each other.

Reality crashed through her shock, and on its heels came Wiley’s voice, firmly grounding her. “That’s a nice name, Laura. Where are you from?”

“Take off your shirt and I’ll tell you.”

Oh…that had been the wrong thing to say. Laura cringed as Heather shot her a reproachful look across the room. She'd been too focused on improving Wiley's mood after Jim had snapped at him. She remembered all too well how the right words from Jim Gutterman could cut someone open. For goodness's sake, Laura, she thought, be professional!

Wiley hopped a little too eagerly off of the bed and unbuttoned his uniform shirt, tossing it behind him. Across the room, Heather was back to fixing whatever was wrong with Jim’s face, but she could see his hands clenching the bed. Did it hurt, what Heather was doing? Or did he want that badly to turn around and look at her?

She refocused on Wiley. He was a tall, thin man with muscles in the right places, but nevertheless a little more fragile-looking than a typical Marine. Laura supposed she might have found him attractive if he’d been less eager to strip down. Young pilots always had one thing on their minds when it came to women and Laura had never really been one to play around with a new one each night. Still, Wiley’s bouncy, puppy-dog attitude was a little endearing, and she rewarded him with a warm smile before starting to look over his figure for bruises.

“I grew up in the military,” she said. “Pa and I moved to a lot of different places.”

“Ever been to New York?”

She shook her head. “No. I always wanted to go, though. I wanted to go everywhere when I was younger. I loved seeing new places every few years. But…well, then high school happened."

“Well, what happened in high school?”

She found a forming bruise on Wiley’s lower chest and began to inspect it. “My mother died. Pa left the military, and we stayed in one place.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right. It was a long time ago.” A slight heaviness weighed on her chest and her words. She had felt it before, always when she turned her thoughts from Amarillo and everything that had happened there. Everyone and everything that had died there. She felt around the bruise and Wiley cringed. “Does that hurt?”

“Not a lot. I don’t think anything’s broken. It sure doesn’t feel good though.”

She continued probing, gauging his reactions, and then nodded. “You’re right. I think you have a bruised rib. I'll have the doctor look at it. In the meantime, you're staying here."

“Are you sure I can’t fly? I feel fine. Maybe a nap or something?”

Laura shook her head. “I wouldn't advise sleep, Lieutenant. Concussions can get dangerous if you sleep. Now hold on while I go get Doctor Reese.”

“Before you go,” Heather called, “can you help?”

Laura blinked, looking confusedly at Heather. “What do you need?”

“Just come here.”

With a smile at Wiley, Laura walked quickly over to Heather, realizing belatedly that Jim had his shirt off as well. Her eyes briefly lingered on the spread of freckles across his back and noted that he had developed broad shoulders and muscle as he’d grown. By the time she got in front of him, however, she was doing her best to avoid looking at him at all. Staring at his chest would have been inappropriate, but looking him in the face was still worse. “What’s wrong?”

Heather looked at Jim. “You said you’ve got a headache?”

Professional concern instantly overrode personal discomfort. Laura looked and saw that he was holding his stomach with a bandaged hand. He had a split lip, and his brown eyes were carefully looking everywhere but at her.

“You see how he came in here?” Heather asked. “Just the same as the other pilot. Can you check his eyes? I think he has a concussion too.”

Laura felt a blaze of anger sizzle through her as she realized what Heather was doing. Putting her temper in check, she answered. “What’s wrong with your flashlight?” The words were short…she wasn’t able to hide her annoyance completely.

Heather held up her flashlight, clicking it on and off. No light appeared. “It’s not working," she said innocently.

Laura suppressed an urge to sigh deeply. Instead, she gave Heather a full on Glare, letting the other nurse know she was on to her. Then, steeling herself, she turned to Jim. “Can you look at me please, Captain? 

He didn’t move and she wondered briefly if she was going to have to duck to get into his vision the way she had with Wiley. But then, he sighed deeply and lifted his eyes until they met hers, and if she had any remaining doubts about who he was, they were instantly washed away. She saw a multitude of expressions cross his face as the moment lingered, and she broke the gaze first, lifting her flashlight to inspect his eyes.

Heather was right. He had a concussion, too. Laura gave him a sympathetic look. “I’ll get the doctor in here to confirm, but it looks like you’ll both be here tonight.”

“I’ll get the doctor,” Heather said immediately, and headed for the door before Laura could argue. Jim quickly began putting his shirt back on, and Laura moved away from him back to Wiley, who smiled again at her presence.

“I guess if I’m stuck here, I’m in good company,” he said.

“Don’t bet on it," Laura felt her lips pulling up again. Wiley's smile was infectious, it was hard not to smile back. “My shift is over in an hour and another nurse who isn’t familiar with your flirtatious comments will be on duty. She might not be as nice as I am.”

“No, she might not. So, what do you do when you’re off duty?”

Laura tapped her lips. “Nothing you’d find interesting, I’m sure.”

“I find that hard to believe. Come on, give me something!”

“Give it a rest, TJ,” Jim grumped.

Wiley ignored Jim, keeping his eyes on Laura. Laura shrugged, still smiling. “I like to read. I like to dance. I like to swim.”

“You like the beach?”

“I love the beach. You’d think growing up in the Navy, you’d get tired of the water. I never have. Even living in Amarillo, I just found the closest river or lake and I’d spend as much time as I could there.”

“Well, when I’m out of here, maybe we can take a walk on the beach.”

Laura's eyebrows went up.

“TJ!” Jim said sharply.

Wiley ignored him, and Laura opened her mouth, genuinely wondering what she was about to say. But before she could reply, the door opened and Doctor Reese and Heather came back in. She focused on them as Heather gave a quick rundown on Jim and Doctor Reese looked him over.

"You can answer me later,” Wiley whispered. "I'll be here all night." He grinned.

Laura nodded, realizing she really didn't know what to say.

Doctor Reese came over and checked Wiley. “Yeah, we’ll keep him overnight too. Take him to a private room, I want to make sure that bruise isn’t anything worse than what we’re seeing.”

“Yes, Doctor,” Laura replied.

Heather leaped in as Doctor Reese left. “I can take him.”

Laura stared fiercely at her and shook her head. Heather stared right back and nodded so forcefully her hat almost fell off. Then, she offered support to Wiley. “Come on.”

“I’ll see you later!” Wiley called to Laura.

“Get some rest, Lieutenant!” she called back.

And then she was alone. With Jim.

She moved to the other side of the room and turned down a bed, then returned to where he was sitting. “Captain Gutterman, if you’ll come with me, please?”

He sighed deeply and stood up, wobbling. She instantly reached out to steady him and he pulled away quickly, then moaned and sat heavily on the bed. He muttered a curse, and whipped around, vomiting hard into the bin on the floor. Laura stayed next to him until the heaving stopped, then quietly got him a cup of water.

“Sorry,” he muttered as he took the cup from her.

“I’m a nurse. I’m used to it. At least you didn’t do it on me.”

He snorted but didn’t quite make it to a smile. “Wouldn’t that be just what I deserve? First time I seen you in eight years an' that’s my hello.”

Laura offered her arm. “Come on, Captain. There’s a quieter bed in the back where you can rest.”

He didn’t take her arm, instead fixing her with a Look. “What are you doin' here, Laura? This is a war.”

Laura lifted her eyebrows. “What are you doing here?” she shot back. “Alice’s last letter said you were going to a correctional institute.”

He blinked and reeled back, then narrowed his eyes at her. “Alice…wrote you?”

“Her last letter was Christmas of 1935. I wrote back but she didn’t answer. I believe your family had moved to Borger by then.”

He stared at her, then laughed. It wasn’t a pleasant laugh. He leaned forward and took her arm and suddenly he was closer to her than he’d ever been. Rattled and dizzy from the proximity, she shifted sideways, trying to put some distance between them and still keep him from falling over. Slowly, she moved him towards the bed in the back.

“West Texas Correctional Institute. It was either that or the Marine Corps,” he said.

It was killing her not to ask what he’d done. The most she knew was that he’d run away north. Alice’s letters had been full of erase marks, and she’d always suspected they’d been censored to keep her from really knowing what was going on.

“Why are you here?” he asked. “People are dyin' here.”

“Not if I can help it,” she replied. “It wasn’t ever a question for me. I turned eighteen and went to nursing school. I joined the Navy as soon as they let me. I grew up in the military, Captain, and I wanted to go back to it.”

“You would have been safer in Amarillo.”

Fury pricked at Laura’s eyes and she was grateful they had reached the bed because she unceremoniously let go of him, letting him slump down onto the sheets. He rolled to his back and threw an arm over his eyes.

“I wanted nothing more to do with Amarillo,” she snapped. “I left there as soon as I could.”

He slowly drew his arm off of his eyes to look at her. When she saw realization dawning, she nodded. “Yes. After you left, I did too.”

His face twisted. “Aw, now don’t put that on me!”

“I'm not! Not all of it. But you did have a hand in it and I'd be lying if I said otherwise!” she argued.

“You were always gonna leave and go be a nurse!”

“But maybe not a military nurse. Maybe I would have come back to Amarillo after school! I would have spoken to you about it.”

“You would have spoken to me about it?” he echoed, sitting up slowly.

“James Gutterman,” she said, her voice shaking, “were you or were you not courting me before everything happened?”

He stared at her for a long time, long enough that she began to feel a sense of panic in her chest. There was no way she could be wrong about this. His words that day had been so clear. But now, as time passed with no reply, she truly began to wonder if somehow she had dreamed the whole thing.

And then…

“I don’t believe we officially started courting, but it was my intention. Yes."

Laura poured strength into her legs as the fury in her eyes began to turn into something else. She would not cry. She would not cry. She had to get through this conversation without crying because she had no idea when or if the two of them would ever mention this again.

“Then I would eventually have spoken to you about my plans to become a nurse,” she replied evenly.

“So, I messed up your life, is that it? Ol’ Jimmy Gutterman lettin’ another one down?”

“Don’t you do that self-pity act!” Laura snapped. “It might have worked when you were seventeen but not now! You hurt me, and you hurt me good, Jim. You cut me out of your life. I knew you were in pain but I also knew you. I knew it wasn't just your father or the ranch that was hurting you. But when I tried to help you and to be there for you the way you’d always been there for me, you treated me like a complete stranger!”

“Well, I told you, didn’t I? That last time we saw each other, I told you I was different and you didn’t wanna hear it! You were hangin’ on to some dreamy notion of you an’ me an' thinkin’ everything would be roses…”

“No!” Laura shouted, and the two of them froze, staring at the door, waiting for someone to come barreling in. A few seconds passed…no sound of running feet…and so Laura continued. “I wasn’t dreaming that day, Jim. I was awake. I was scared. I was losing you and I was begging you not to go. But like you said, you were different. You didn’t trust me anymore and worse, you were acting like I meant nothing to you at all. Those things you said to me? They shouldn’t have ever come out of your mouth. Not to me.”

He stared at her again, silently.

“I’m not going to let you say you let me down,” she said. “I’m not going to let you add me to a list of failures. Because we’re here now, Jim. If you decide you want to trust me again, I’ll be here. And in the meantime, don’t go to sleep or the concussion might kill you. Then you would be letting me down.”

He didn’t answer, and Laura turned away. She was halfway across the room when he called out again. “Laura!”

She turned around.

“You’re right.” He struggled to his feet and fixed his eyes on her. “Those things I said. I shouldn’t have said them. Not to anyone. But especially not to you. I’m sorry, I…I really am. I won’t ask your forgiveness, but I want you to know that I’ve lived every day knowin’ what I said to you an' regrettin’ it.”

It was Laura’s turn to stare. He held the gaze, open and honest, and she could feel herself melting. She felt her insides tremble and the urge to throw herself into his arms actually twitched her fingers. But that was all that moved until she forced herself to nod. “Thank you, Jim.”

He nodded once, and slowly sat down. On the other side of the room, the door opened, and Heather came back in. Without saying another word, Laura turned and continued cleaning up the aftermath of Wiley and Gutterman’s visit.