cycat4077 - Tumblr blog

cycat4077 · 18 days

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how to find literally any post on a blog in seconds (on desktop)

there are so many posts about ~tumblr is so broken, you can’t find any post on your own blog, it’s impossible, bluhrblub~

I am here to tell you otherwise! it is in fact INCREDIBLY easy to find a post on a blog if you’re on desktop/browser and you know what you’re doing:

url.tumblr.com/tagged/croissant will bring up EVERY post on the blog tagged with the specific and exact phrase #croissant. every single post, every single time. in chronological order starting with the most recent post. note: it will not find #croissants or that time you made the typo #croidnssants. for a tag with multiple words, it’s just /tagged/my-croissant and it will show you everything with the exact phrase #my croissant

url.tumblr.com/tagged/croissant/chrono will bring up EVERY post on the blog tagged with the exact phrase #croissant, but it will show them in reverse order with the oldest first

url.tumblr.com/search/croissant isn’t as perfect at finding everything, but it’s generally loads better than the search on mobile. it will find a good array of posts that have the word croissant in them somewhere. could be in the body of the post (op captioned it “look at my croissant”) or in the tags (#man I want a croissant). it won’t necessarily find EVERYTHING like /tagged/ does, but I find it’s still more reliable than search on mobile. you can sometimes even find posts by a specific user by searching their url. also, unlike whatever random assortment tumblr mobile pulls up, it will still show them in a more logically chronological order

url.tumblr.com/day/2020/11/05 will show you every post on the blog from november 5th, 2020, in case you’re taking a break from croissants to look for destiel election memes

url.tumblr.com/archive/ is search paradise. easily go to a particular month and see all posts as thumbnails! search by post type! search by tags but as thumbnails now

url.tumblr.com/archive/filter-by/audio will show you every audio post on your blog (you can also filter by other post types). sometimes a little imperfect if you’re looking for a video when the op embedded the video in a text post instead of posting as a video post, etc

url.tumblr.com/archive/tagged/croissant will show you EVERY post on the blog tagged with the specific and exact phrase #croissant, but it will show you them in the archive thumbnail view divided by months. very useful if you’re looking for a specific picture of a croissant that was reblogged 6 months ago and want to be able to scan for it quickly

url.tumblr.com/archive/filter-by/audio/tagged/croissant will show you every audio post tagged with the specific phrase #croissant (you can also filter by photo or text instead, because I don’t know why you have audio posts tagged croissant)

the tag system on desktop tumblr is GENUINELY amazing for searching within a specific blog!

caveat: this assumes a person HAS a desktop theme (or “custom theme”) enabled. a “custom theme” is url.tumblr.com, as opposed to tumblr.com/url. I’ve heard you have to opt-into the former now, when it used to be the default, so not everyone HAS a custom theme where you can use all those neat url tricks.

if the person doesn’t have a “custom theme” enabled, you’re beholden to the search bar. still, I’ve found the search bar on tumblr.com/url is WAY more reliable than search on mobile. for starters, it tends to bring posts up in a sensible order, instead of dredging up random posts from 2013 before anything else

if you’re on mobile, I’m sorry. godspeed and good luck finding anything. (my one tip is that if you’re able to click ON a tag rather than go through the search bar, you’ll have better luck. if your mutual has recently reblogged a post tagged #croissant, you can click #croissant and it’ll bring up everything tagged #croissant just like /tagged/croissant. but if there’s no readily available tag to click on, you have to rely on the mobile search bar and its weird bizarre whims)

#reference #tumblr hacks

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cycat4077 · 23 days

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Lonesome Superhero Part 4

Pairing: Gator Tillman x f!reader (not romantic)

Summary: Months after moving away from Stark County, things finally come to a head as you confront your fears and the Tillmans confront the law. How will Gator react and what truths will emerge?

Warnings: language, misogynistic themes from the show, mentions of DV

Length: 3.3k +

A/N: This one deviates from cannon. I had a theory while watching the show. It turned out to be incorrect, but I really liked it and had already used it as the foundation for this series, so I decided to run with it anyway. Tah-dah! This is kind of an AU, but I really like it!

Fic below the cut or on AO3 here

"Batman. Superman. Spiderman. Ugh! It's always gotta be guys doing the hero stuff!" you huff, splaying out Gator's comic books that sit atop the cafeteria table.

"Duh!" he replies as you plunk yourself down beside the dark-haired boy. "They've got the superpowers; of course they're gonna save the day!"

"Yeah, but it's always about a guy, and the girl is the one that always hasta be saved. What you need is to read this one, Gate." You slap down an issue of Wonder Woman in front of your best friend. "Now she's a superhero!"

Gator stares skeptically at the bright yellows and reds that compose the artwork on the comic book cover.

"Go ahead," you grin triumphantly, "take it home for a bit. I personally guarantee that you'll love it!"

With his hardened frown dissolving into a warm smile, a twelve-year-old Gator Tillman peers fondly at his best friend next to him. Somehow you always managed to make him feel good: valued, accepted, and truly understood.

Nodding affirmatively, Gator then gathers the comic and tucks it in his backpack along with the others for the trip home. That, however, would be the last time you would see your issue of Wonder Woman. Days turned into weeks, and Gator claimed that he "wasn't finished yet". Excuses piled up until you eventually forgot that the comic even existed. In reality, however, it was Roy Tillman who ensured that the Amazonian heroine had no influence on his son.

-x-

The simple days of comic books have long since passed. Now, here you are in a completely different state, living each day by constantly glancing over your shoulder. Sleep eludes you despite the four deadbolts on your tiny apartment’s door. The smallest, most insignificant noises startle you, causing panic to seize your chest in a vice-like grip, terrified that he’s found you. Even your performance at work has declined, which is something that neither you nor your patients can afford. While you might have escaped from Stark County, the looming fear of Roy Tillman and his son follows you like the darkest of rain clouds.

A soft touch to your shoulder makes your body stiffen and your muscles jump. The echoes of beeping machines and the fluorescent lighting overhead reel you back to reality as the hand pulls away, startled by your reaction.

“Are you alright?” the head nurse speaks softly. “Mr. Patel’s dressing needs changing in room 305.”

As you turn around to face your boss, it’s clear your answer to her question is a resounding ‘no’.

The nurse’s features deepen with concern. “Darling, what’s wrong?”

You have held everything in for a couple months now, completely isolated and alone – too afraid to tell your truth in case the long arm of Roy Tillman’s law finds you. However, your boss is here in the present. She runs a tight ship at work, expecting your best, but she has also shown you nothing but kindness. And right now, her sincerity is breaking down the barriers that hold your fears tightly locked away.

Flagging down another nurse to cover the hospital floor, the two of you escape to a break room, where you find the courage to release your truths. You tell her about Gator and about Roy. You tell her that you are sorry for your inadequate performance at work but that you are just so scared. And instead of judging you, she holds you while you cry. She reassures you that you are brave and that she cares. But she also delivers the harsh reality that you can’t go on this way – that the only way to permanently end this torment is to go to the police.

At first, you recoil in aversion. The tendrils of your fear extend to the possibility that the Tillmans have connections across several state lines, yet the gentle encouragements from the head nurse help settle your unease. You know deep down that it is the right thing to do.

-x-

A loud bang on the door startles Gator awake. His head lolls towards his alarm clock, his eyes slowly peeling open. 1am?!? For Christ’s sake! Wiping the drool from his mouth, the Tillman son throws on a dirty white tank top to match his boxers and begins to drag himself into the hallway.

Another couple of loud knocks ring out amongst muffled shouts. Who the fuck is that, and what the fuck do they want?!? Gator seethes, patience worn thin.

BANG BANG BANG “North Dakota state police! Open up!”

Oh, shit! With his system now fully jolted awake, Gator scrambles down the hall. “Dad!” he yells frantically, open palm slapping against his father’s bedroom door. “Dad!”

The door swings open, and an angry gaze is immediately cast down over Gator. Roy towers over his son, nipple piercings glinting in the low light. “What have I told you about waking me, boy?”

Gator visibly shrinks, his face wrought with panic. “But dad, it’s the –”

BANG BANG BANG “North Dakota state police! This is your final warning! Open up!”

The two men’s heads whip towards the direction of the front door downstairs. Roy shoves his son out of the way, bounding down the staircase at lightning speed. Gator is left behind with his mouth gaping; a confused and sleepy Karen joins him at the bedroom entrance. She sleepily wraps her robe around herself, unaware of the events about to transpire.

The next several moments pass by in a hazy blur. Gator hears his father greet the police and listens as that deep voice raises in anger. The figures stir, and the next thing Gator witnesses is his father being forcefully cuffed and led out the front door. Karen shrieks, and her wails ring through Gator’s ears as she runs out of the house after her husband. Gator feels as though life is in slow motion; that the world around him is crumbling away. He barely registers what's happening thereafter until he feels the cool metal of a handcuff being secured around his wrist. He blinks slowly as his other arm is guided behind his back and a cuff cinches shut.

He should resist. He should be fighting back like the reptile he is named for…Yet, he doesn't. Instead of panic, instead of fear, a weird sensation akin to relief takes root and begins to blossom inside of Gator’s chest as he, too, is led out of his childhood home towards the blue and red flashing lights that pierce the darkness.

-x-

“I’m not saying a word. Not. A. Fucking. Word!” spits the Tillman son before harshly folding his arms across his chest and gluing his gaze to the metal table in front of him.

“Peter,” coaxes a female police officer. “We know you were there. Just tell us what happened.”

Gator doesn’t look up. He simply swallows thickly.

The middle-aged officer shifts from her place beside the table; her sleek shadow moves next to her in the dim lighting as she takes a seat across from the young man. Her voice lowers and mellows as she begins to speak. “You must really like her,” the officer pauses to allow her words to sink in. “You just wanted your chance to be with her. No one can fault you for that. But, she told us her version of that night in the parking lot, and now we need your side of it too.”

A brief flicker from hazel irises catch in the light. A thumb rubs anxiously back and forth along his bicep, and a pair of thin lips pinch together tightly. Yet still, Gator Tillman remains quiet.

The officer glances behind her and gives a nod towards the two-way mirror. Mere seconds later, the interview room door creaks open, and her colleague, a six-foot-something brick shithouse of a man, enters the room. His presence seems to swallow the entirety of the small space.

Gator’s gaze flashes up towards the large officer, brows knitting defiantly.

“Peter,” the female officer starts again, a soft tone still woven into her words, “we would like you to see something.”

-x-

“Sheriff Tillman,” chimes a female FBI agent, “things will be so much easier for you if you just tell us the truth. We have your son in the next room over. Tell us what happened before he does.”

“My son?” The man bursts out in bitter laughter. “My son is a waste of space. None of us would be here if it weren’t for him. He goes out and makes a fool of himself in front of some dumb broad, and then comes crying to daddy to help him win her over.”

The FBI agent plants her palms firmly on the metal table and leans in to stare her suspect down. “According to what our witness told us, it doesn’t seem like you set out to do any of that.”

Roy scoffs. “The only reason I went to chat with that young lady was because my so-called son was too much of a pussy to land the little whore on his own!”

Biting back a smirk, the agent presses on. “Your son seems to be a touchy subject for you, Roy. You hired him as your deputy, so he must be doing something right.”

Roy’s face contorts as if he has just heard the most outrageous statement imaginable. “The boy is a complete fuckup.” He grits his teeth. “It’s been that way ever since he took his first breath. All scrawny and weak. I thought a job on the force would toughen him up – make a man out of him – but he’s still just as pathetic as the day he was born.”

Even as he sits in police-issue sweatpants and t-shirt, Roy Tillman’s presence consumes the oxygen in the room. The resentment the senior Tillman holds for his son is reflected back at him in the two-way mirror.

Yet, just beyond that mirror is the face of a boy. One who has just been shoved headfirst into reality. He remains quiet, attempting to hide the emotions that course under his skin – afraid that somehow his father can see him watching on.

“Peter,” the officer speaks quietly from over his shoulder. “You don’t have to protect him anymore.”

Gator stares silently at his father. The Stark County sheriff looks like a caged beast that is aggressively pacing its confinements as it plots the best moment to strike.

“I can’t…” whispers Gator, the words catching in his throat.

A warm hand finds his shoulder. “You can, Peter. If not for yourself, then for her. You have the chance to make things right.”

-x-

"Mr. Tillman," bellows the prosecutor. Gator blinks, refocusing on the wood-decorated courtroom and the many faces that fill the rows of his surroundings. "You have testified here today on the many crimes – illegal weapons dealings, internal police corruption, and missing person’s cases – that Sheriff Roy Tillman is allegedly accused of orchestrating and or committing. However, there is one missing person's case that has yet to be discussed –"

"OBJECTION!" yells the defense lawyer, rising to his feet with palms slapping down against his desk. "This is new evidence that my council has not been informed of!"

A gasp resonates amongst the shocked crowd in the gallery.

The judge levels her gaze at both men. “Approach.”

"Your honor," explains the prosecution coolly as he arrives at the bench, "this testimony falls under the category of missing persons from Stark County which the state and the defense have agreed are admissible topics inside this court."

The judge silently consults her notes. It seems as though everyone in the room is holding in a collective breath. Finally, the judge announces her conclusion, "Overruled. I'll allow it. Please continue."

The defense attorney angrily sits back down, exchanging careful glances with his client as he does.

From his seat, Roy Tillman’s hardened eyes descend upon his son. In the past, that look always made Gator fold as easily as a house of cards. This time, however, Gator finds the courage to turn away. His hazel eyes seek out yours, and he finds you sitting quietly behind the prosecution, unwilling to allow any Tillman to witness the fear that runs through your veins.

"Peter," chimes the prosecutor. "Can you please tell the jury what you saw that day?"

Snapping out of his trance, Gator shifts to focus on the lawyer in front of him. He swallows thickly. It's now or never.

"I – I was five years old,” he begins. “One evening my mother came rushing into my room. She told me to pack my favorite toys into a bag because we had to leave right away. She never told me why; she just left my room in a hurry.” Gator’s expression suddenly changes. It appears as though he has been transported to some distant place in his memory. “Then… I remember hearing the front door slam and heavy footsteps pound up the stairs to my door. It was my father. He pointed a finger at me and told me to get in bed. To not come out. I remember being so confused as he shut my door and left. Next thing I heard was the yelling and shouting. Both my mother and father were screaming at each other. Again.”

“What happened next, Peter?” the prosecution coaxes gently.

“I – I was just trying to figure out what was going on.” Gator’s eyes squeeze shut at the memory. “I disobeyed my father and crept to the edge of the stairs. I sat just out of sight and watched it through the banister.”

“It? What was it that you saw?” the prosecutor prompts again.

“I saw my father swing and momma drop.” Gator’s voice falters, tone becoming boyish at the mention of his mother. “When she didn’t get up, my father picked her up and put her over his shoulder. I – I remember her hand dangling as he carried her towards the back door. I was so scared. I ran back up to my room and got in bed.”

“Peter, that must have been a very traumatic experience for you, especially at such a young age. But do you remember any other details about that night?”

“I remember seeing our shaggy white rug being stained bright red as my mother was lying on it. That rug was gone the next day.”

“Okay, good. Now, why didn’t you tell anyone? Why keep this a secret for so many years? You must have loved your mother, no?”

“Of course I loved my mom!” Gator’s voice cracks again. “But I never told anyone because I had disobeyed my father that night. I knew I would be punished if he found out.”

“Punished how, Peter?”

“The belt.”

The prosecutor nods somberly. “And what did your father tell you had happened to your mother?”

“My father told me – told everyone – that mom had run away. That she didn't want to be with us anymore. I spent twenty-some years convincing myself that his story was true."

As Gator concludes his testimony, you notice a shimmer in his eyes. He swallows hard to blink the moisture away.

On the opposite side of the courtroom, Roy's jaw clenches and unclenches, his features betraying his shock and anger. He clearly hadn't known what Gator witnessed all those years ago, and if looks could kill, Gator's body would already be cold.

The gallery remains eerily silent.

"Thank you, Mr. Tillman," speaks the judge. "Would the defense like to cross-examine?"

"We would, your honor," replies Roy's attorney through tight lips.

The stout man rises from his seat and buttons his suit coat. He clears his throat. "Mr. Tillman – Gator. “You fit to benefit from testifying against your father today, don’t you?" Before the Tillman son has a chance to reply, the lawyer opens his mouth again. "Is it true that you will receive a reduced sentence despite admitting to being a major player in some of the alleged crimes committed?"

Gator stares up at the defense attorney dejectedly. "Yes, sir," he admits. "Five years for accessory, plus psychiatric counseling."

You watch as some jury members knit their brows together. Prosecutors make deals all the time in exchange for testimony. This reveal shouldn't come as a surprise.

The lawyer’s smirk widens as he turns to the judge. "The defense rests, your honor."

Nodding towards Gator, the judge dismisses him, and a bailiff escorts him quietly towards the exit of the courtroom. As he passes your row, Gator cautiously meets your gaze for the second time that day. He merely gives you a solemn frown before once again bowing his head as he is led away.

Meanwhile, you are left standing there completely dumbfounded, your mind swimming with thoughts. Who would have known that this whole situation would unravel into something so sinister? You knew that Roy Tillman was a shady character. You knew that many in Stark County feared him, but you never could have fathomed the extent as to why. Neither could you have predicted how all of this had influenced Gator. Yet somehow, the pieces of the puzzle fit together seamlessly. The introverted boy from middle school. The bully from high school. The pompous ass you swore at outside of the retirement home. And even Roy's threat in the dark parking lot. It all added up. Gator had spent twenty-plus years harbouring a dark secret while his father attempted to mold Gator into a carbon copy of himself. The years of abuse, neglect, and conditioning… It didn’t excuse everything that had happened, but it certainly put it all into perspective.

-x-

In the days that follow, you attend each court session dutifully. You hear other witness testimony that incriminates Roy in a multitude of nefarious actions. You even hear from a young woman named Dorothy, who bravely stares down the sheriff as she recounts the abuse she endured by his hand.

Of course, the defense tries to weave the evidence into misconstrued accounts that shift the blame away from the senior Tillman. But as the trial wears on, the faces of the jurors drift from skepticism towards disgust. And, as the final verdict is read, tension converts to relief when Roy Tillman is found guilty on each criminal charge he is tried for.

You watch stoically as the disgraced Sheriff is led away, tethered in cuffs and chains, yet somehow this result feels partially empty. Countless lives have forever been altered by this man, and the weight of that grim realization smothers you. Your thoughts briefly drift to Gator and how he, despite everything he admitted to, is yet another victim of the corrupt county sheriff.

You shake those dark thoughts away as you file out of the courtroom amongst the rest of the crowd.

-x-

A couple months go by, and you finally allow yourself to breathe. Roy Tillman is locked away in a maximum security facility, never to wield his power again, while Gator has been sent east to serve out his time.

Back in Stark County, the harsh winter passes. Frigid snow retreats, allowing the landscape to blossom once again. And, just as spring rolls into the county, so do you. After all, your heart had always been at the retirement home, seeking to give back to the community you grew up in. Life even seems to return to normal as Stark County gradually beings to heal from the long reign of the Tillman lineage.

Then, on one beautiful spring afternoon, you return home from your shift to find a padded envelope resting against your door frame. Taking the package inside, you notice that the return address belongs to a federal correctional institution in New Hampshire. Your brow furrows in confusion as you open up the envelope.

Its contents make you gasp.

Bright yellows and reds catch your eye as a familiar image brings up forgotten memories. Attached to the front cover of the Wonder Woman issue is a sticky note that reads:

I’m sorry for everything.

- Gator

Thanks for reading! Feedback is loved ❤

(An epilogue is in the works!)

#subtly putting this on my main...#my fanfic #someone love me lol #gator tillman

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