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going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 6 months

Note

Ur good 🗞 anon I don't have a problem with it :))) also I'm sending u a red eye (drip coffee w a shot of Espresso in it) it is the fuel that keeps blue collar guys going

ALSO ALSO IM STILL FERAL OVER GENDERBENT 141 FUCK WOMENNNNNN

-🔪

I love how you 2 are having a love affair in my asks

speaking of Genderbent!141,

Let me use highjack this ask to cook up something good:

Genderbent!Los Vaqueros (and everyone else).

(this is especially for @lyralein and their promise to draw me Alejandra and Rosario)

Alejandra Vargas has the longest, prettiest hair for someone who spends their time with it TIED IN A DAMN HIGH PONYTAIL???? She 100% wears SOOOO much hair gel to keep it slick and from having flyaways while in the field but that means it exposes her widow's peak and big ass fivehead. She's very used to being underestimated (just like Jane Price) but she has natural scary dog privilege and even her smirks and smiles look evil, so her subordinates Know Better™️. Also, she's tall as all hell, just like Simone. Fuck you mean she's 5ft10???? She serves cunt everywhere she goes when off-duty.

Rosario "Rosa" Parra has a curly bob and has the longest prettiest eyelashes. Does it pass regulation? No. But are you gonna go tell the Colonel's best friend to fix her hair, cut it? No. Exactly. Now get out of her face before SgtMj Parra makes you run drills. She and Alejandra have MATCHING tattoos that they got after the betrayal of their teammates who were on the cartel's payroll (like Valerio Garza). I'm entirely convinced her and Alejandra have gossip sessions over coffee when doing paperwork.

Valerio Garza is 100% such a fucking papi chulo. You know it, I know it. Man's got the most beautiful brown eyes, thickest brows, and the nastiest little smug smirk on his lips at all times. Has a shaggy little hairstyle that just makes him look like SUCH a fuckboy and a 5 o'clock shadow. Man's tall as all hell and I just KNOW he's got a fucking scorpion tattooed in his forearm. Just trust me on this.

Patricia Graves (yes I know Philipa exists but I don't like it for him bc it's not 'common' the way 'Philip' is common for men) is such a fucking bitch. I'm sorry, but she is. (to me, Philip's actions just become even more inexcusable when she's a woman like????) Anyways. Has the sleekest light brown hair but she gets it lightened to blonde because she can. Who's gonna stop her? Wears her hair cut into a lob (long bob) and unironically loves cowboy boots when she's out of uniform.

Alexa Keller is ready to fuck shit up at a moment's notice. Give her a time and a place and she WILL show up, drop some bodies, and leave without a word. Tall and strong, but not as beefy as Soap. Especially top-heavy. I'm convinced she binds her chest with bandages in order to fasten her vest on properly. Has a layered bob and carries bobby pins in her pack/pockets so she can keep pinning it back, on TOP of already carrying hair-ties around her wrists. At one point, Faris teaches her how to tie a scarf to keep it off her face.

Faris Karim is, I hate to say it, tall and on the skinny side. The ULF is a freedom fighting group and he's spent much time in prison, so, he's not as 'well developed' as many soldiers would be. Nonetheless, he's a good leader and makes up for his lesser build with determination. Has a beard that he cannot keep up with more often than not so he shaves it off when it gets too long, and keeps his hair in a combover or quiff.

Christopher "Chris" Laswell is, point blank, tall and slightly pudgy, used to being behind a desk, writing reports and fucking people up with words more than with fists. That being said, piss him off hard enough and he'll have you on your ass. Has an Ivy League cut with a side part and is either PERFECTLY clean-shaven or has the THICKEST beard you've ever seen. (I was gonna 'pick' a mustache only but then he'd look like Alex Keller too much)

Natasha is, I hate to say it, the most stereotypical Russian woman you've ever met... minus the blonde hair. She has the beautiful waves, she has the red lipstick and the heavy make-up, she has the expensive fur coats, and dresses and heels, and all the jewelry. Is it practical? No. But she's a CEO and a forced to be reckoned and there's nothing stopping her.

[ More Genderbent!COD ]

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tokuvivor · 11 days

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Due to circumstances beyond the control of any others, @violetganache42 and I are splitting duty on this week’s highlights post (Competition Night edition). She did it for the shorts and episodes, I’m doing it for An Extremely Goofy Movie.

So without further ado, here we go.

“Polar Trappers”:

We bring ‘em back alive

@puffyducks: bro where is pabo

Donald hunting a penguin, which is now illegal to do so

Not the kid!

The baby penguin’s tear becoming a massive snowball

“Need 4 Speed”:

QUACK PACK (Again!)

Disney Ducks meet The Fast and the Furious

@spamtoon: huey you guys aren't in phineas and ferb

Daisy appearance!

The idea of Comet Guy Night

@ducklooney and puffy going off about humans being in the Duckverse

Us calling Donald and the authorities to kill Rocky the Rocket Throttle

From Negaduck ass car to Ratcatcher

@writebackatya: "This is like the Family Guy of the Duckverse"

Ludwig appearance!

puffy: "where's dick dastardly"

Puffy, Missy, and I using 90s slang

Daisy seeing the triplets in the race:

RIP ethnically stereotyped racers

WriteBackAtYa: "DuckTales 2017 needed a car race episode"

Violet: "Would Huey and Launchpad be commentators?"

WriteBackAtYa: "Yes Always"

Violet: "SOLD!"

Ludwig's toy kangaroo winning the race

@tealottie: erection joke

“The Missing Links of Moorshire!”:

Webby giving Scrooge semi-permanent hearing loss

Launchpad: "This lake will be used for the swimming portion of the competition."

Huey: T_T

Violet: "Cue theme song!"

Missy betraying Della with Daisy

Tony the Tiger?!

The entire coin toss scene 🤣

Us praising Glomgold

Missy commenting how Scrooge and Glomgold can't tuck their tails for golfing

The audio glitching like CRAZY

Fluttershy and Bubbles the Kelpies

Webby: "Talking animals wearing clothes?! :D"

@fantasticenthusiasttale: "Webby…"

Violet, internally:

"Bologna. Trampoline."

THE MUSIC USED FOR THE MONTAGE!

Louie yoinking money out of Glomgold's sweater pocket

Emo Dewey

"You people are no fun."

Webby: "Not everything has to be a life lesson."

Violet:

Violet pretending to be turned to stone by the Medusa Mist (as I like to call it)

Launchpad ending the episode with a life lesson… before trying to devour golf balls

“Dog Show”:

puffy: "you know who else is an orphan"

Dreamy: "Everyone in this shit is an orphan"

The dog show people being dogs

Goofy literally begging

Pixar ball

Mickey unleashing his inner dog

An Extremely Goofy Movie

Calling out all the characters from the previous movie as they show up

The fact that Pete is celebrating his own son leaving💀

How is Goofy single?

Goofy having major rizz (this point comes up quite a bit during the movie, and for good reason)

Max’s character development from A Goofy Movie being undone

Sad Goofy☹️

HDL mention!

Bradley Uppercrust III

@kaitosduckmania: “god this shit is so pretentious LMAO”

Will: “I want this review on the back of the DVD”

Max/Roxanne vs. Max/Bradley on Tumblr

Beret Girl!

Puffy: “you know who ELSE is called tank”

Violet: “MY MOM”

Puffy: “they’re snapping at us…MENACINGLY”

Bradley having the same VA as Johnny Bravo (also, The Man with the Yellow Hat)

Max’s horrified face when he sees that he and his dad are in the same class

Bobby wearing pink panties/briefs

Hidden Mickey

Goofy’s mispronunciation of the word “trigonometry”

Puffy: “the WHAT decimal system”

Sylvia being adorable

Goofy does a Donald-esque voice

Kai: “WHAT THE FUCK GOOFY YOU CAN MAKE THAT VOICE?”

Will: “Max’s whole character is that he doesn’t want to be like Goofy but like he is so much like his father that he doesn’t even know it”

More cheese pull (pizza in the last movie, nachos in this one)

BONGO MUSIC

PJ has rizz, too

Goofy and Sylvia dancing to Shake Your Groove Thing

Papa Dog

Us dumping on the inherent cult-like nature of fraternities, sororities, and the National Honor Society

The German judge low-balling everyone

Dreamy: “Is this the olympics all again”

Puffy: “this is MY olympics”

Max shooting down Goofy in the worst way possible

Goofy’s weed/acid trip dream (plus the Goofy holler!)

More Goofy sadness

Meta humor about almost everyone wearing gloves

Missy betraying Daisy with Sylvia

CHEATING!!!!!

PJ flying off

Dreamy: “He went to visit Della”

“Mud! My only weakness!”

Will mentioning that the scene with the X crashing down was removed from the broadcast version of the movie after 9/11 (which we completely understand, because holy shit)

Also, sort of a Hindenburg reference

Goofy graduating! (And then telling Max he was getting a job at the school)

Sylvia having the same VA as Emma Glamour

Spam floating the idea of Max vs. Gosalyn for the X Games

Disco end credits!

Also, that was a goofy movie. Extremely, even.

#quack pack #ducktales #mickey mouse #an extremely goofy movie #ducktales fandom #duck tumblr #duckblr #duckblr movie night #polar trappers #need 4 speed #the missing links of moorshire!#dog show

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invisibleraven · 1 year

Note

'things you interrupted me to say' just has PeterPatterLina vibes to me

"Just had to goad the bad guy didn't you Luke?" Julie grumbled as she flexed her hands in the handcuffs binding them to their chairs.

"He was wrong about later period Impressionism and he had to be taught," Luke replied.

"So not the point," Julie sighed. "Do you happen to have your picks within reach?"

"In my other suit, sorry," Luke replied. "You got a bobby pin hidden in those curls?"

"Unfortunately not."

"Guys?"

"How long do you think it'll be before he comes back to gloat about his plan going off under the FBI's nose?" Luke mused.

"You think he's coming back?" Julie snarked. "I know you're only a consultant, but you know as well as I do the bad guys usually don't come back to monologue."

"Guys!"

"I mean, yeah, but this guys just has that aura you know?" Luke said. "Total attention seeker. Why else would he have a life sized portrat of himself in the lobby?"

"That was a tad gauche wasn't it?" Julie asked, wrinkling her nose.

"GUYS!"

Luke winced as his earpiece almost blew out and then lit up. "Reg!"

"Wait, do you still have your earpiece?" Julie asked. "We could have radioed for help ages ago!"

"Sorry, it lost reception when we went underground and I guess designing it like a hearing aid made them less likely to take it," Luke replied. "Yay for bad guys who aren't ableist dicks."

"Can you two stop your banter for one moment and talk to me please?" Reggie said with a sigh. "I swear this is the last time I take van duty when you guys are on a case."

"Reg says it's our own fault we got caught because we didn't bring him,: Luke said smugly then winced when Reggie sent a blast of feedback down the line.. "So I paraphrased. A bit."

"I mean at least Reggie doesn't backtalk the bad guys unless they insult Star Wars or Dolly," Julie said good naturedly. "Does he have a fix on our location and a plan to get us out of here?"

"Reg?" Luke asked. "You got a plan in that big sexy brain of yours?"

"Of course I do," Reggie replied. "Look, there is a pick sewn into the lining of your shirt, find it and get yourselves free."

"I really need to learn how to do that," Julie said as she rubbed her wrists once Luke snapped the handcuffs off. "What does our genius boyfriend want us to do next?"

"Well he says the door is probably guarded and they took your gun," Luke said. "No windows, and no grates."

"I can hear a boat horn nearby," Julie said. "And gulls, so we're near a pier."

"Concrete is standard, but the paint on it is new," Luke commented.

"I've got agents who are converging on you, so sit tight," Reggie stated. "Good thing I put a tracker in Luke's earpiece."

"You did what now?" Luke questioned.

"I put one in Julie's too, but they smashed hers, so I guess I'll have to make a new one," Reggie replied.

"Did you know he was tracking us?" Luke asked Julie.

She shrugged. "It makes sense. I'm an FBI agent, you are a criminal working with the bureau under probation. We do tend to get into trouble quite a lot, Makes sense to me."

"I am wearing a literal ankle monitor!" Luke protested, waving his foot...which had the bracelet removed. "Well I was!"

"Yeah, but we have to take it off for so many ops and bad guys toss it to avoid getting tacked when we don't, this seemed easier. And easier to replace," Reggie replied.

"Before you ask, no this doesn't mean you can go without the ankle monitor," Julie stated before Luke could even form the question.

Luke pouted, but he knew that this was the deal. He helped solve a bunch of white collar crimes, he avoided prison and worked out his sentence in way that he loved, with the two people who had quickly captured his heart.

Sure they had to keep their relationship a secret to keep everything above board, but he only had a few months left, after which he could get a legit job, and then the three of them could live a perfectly normal life. Well as normal a life as a throuple made up of two FBI agents and a former conman could.

"I hear gunshots," Julie said.

"Brace for impact," Reggie warned. "I'll see you two on the other side. Stay safe."

"You too Reg," Luke replied.

"We'll see you soon, keep the van running," Julie said.

"Always do," he said.

They made it out in one piece, managed to make a few arrests, and got the paperwork done with some fleetness. Meaning they could go home to Julie's place for a night in-with no interruptions.

#filled prompts #ficlet #rukebox #peterpatterlina #julie and the phantoms

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storiesofsvu · 8 months

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happy thursday! thoughts under the cut!

Okay, here we go! we’re back!! We’re BACK!!

And for some reason citytv is finally airing them in a more correct order, though mine thinks I’m on the east coast and is starting now. Mothership first so we all know I might not pay too much attention.

Woof what a cold open…

Jesus christ why is it always Hudson U

Who’s this new detective? Did we get rid of one of the white men I didn’t like? Lol. Oh.. we did… good lol.

Det shaw is so fucking hot.

Nov 10th?? Don’t they usually keep the time stamps pretty accurate to when they air?

Uugggghhh Samantha I have missed yoooouuuu. Glad to see she’s handling the arraignment herself this time, let’s give her more of that pls.

God this chloe girl’s annoying

That stiletto tape holder on sam’s desk came from rita, I know it in my soul. (it also came with a custom pair of manolos…)

Oh shit…

Yeah I dunno how I feel about this new cop either…

Ugh I just love that maroon suit

Svu time

BABY BENSON!!!!!!!!!!

Okay I like starting s25 off like this.

Loving that liv is back in her black nail polish era. It’s prime

Velasco being the one of the squad without his own kids/being the youngest and being the one dunked with babysitting duty and loving every moment of it is perfection.

Omg all of them fighting over the baby. lol.

Where tf are all the rest of the carisi’s? or amanda’s mom? Isn’t she in nyc now??

“maybe we could adopt each other…he could use a brother, too many sisters LOL omg noah

I’m not saying liv should’ve like, pulled a u-turn and immediately gone after the van, esp with noah in the car, but she knew in her gut something was off, memorizing a plate number probably would’ve been a good idea.

ALSO WHILE WE’RE HERE. I’M FUCKING SALTY ABOUT CHURLISH. WHAT THE FUCK. (especially if there isn’t a single mention of her in this episode/where she’s gone.)

Oh Velasco… baby boi, I have missed you

Does Bruno have a medical alert bracelet on? And if so is that his or is that the actors?

Okay, at least Velasco was smart enough to keep hands on the perp instead of letting him run off like they normally do.

What the FUCK is going on?

Why am I still watching this show? LOL

Okay, see, this is the kind of amanda content I want to see, her popping up every so often in her professor role/mother/wife role, or just showing up to give carisi lunch kinda thing, not full time, not back on the force cause ESP after having a third kid there’s no way she’s coming back to be a cop.

The way olivia didn’t even bother to run cause she knew he wasn’t going far LOL, just all “bro, you’re gonna hurt yourself, and don’t make me hurt you…”

Okay but is olivia wearing the bracelet that she found in the van? (cause that should be in an evidence bag) or is she wearing one from one of the dolls? (cause that should also be evidence? And is lowkey weird…)

Have I just missed them or have there not been any/a lot of the dun-dun’s/time stamps, cause like…how long has madi been missing? How long have we been looking for her cause there’s no way that they kidnap her, make her into a doll, and make THAT many of them and produce them/that many people bought them in like a day or two….

Okay… we’re lacking detectives, with muncy and churlish gone is this new blonde gonna be joining the team? Will she last more than one season on the show?

God the politics side of jobs like this are infuriating

Okay imma assume that we’re gonna retouch on the case next week? Cause that REALLY wasn’t a solid wrap up, like I get the metaphorical idea to it, but that coulda been done so much better.

Episode was meh overall.

OC time, yay! It really is playing them in order. Now if only the subtitles would fucking work. I’m so congested too, that’s not helping lol.

This theme song is the best out of all of them and I will die on this hill.

Oh right, we’re diving into fucking AI shit. It honestly better end up being a bad thing cause AI will destroy the film industry…

Omg bobby. I love you so much. God the cast of this show is all so incredible.

“god I love not being the boss” LOL

“welcome back detective ive missed you too. Can we take a breath and try that again.” Bell.. seriously… I fucking love you. How v Donnelly of her.

I absolutely love that bell isn’t afraid to call stabler on his shit. Like she is constantly reminding him that *she’s* the boss and we stan her for it.

The writing on this show is SO much better jfc. Jet all “that’s artificial intelligence.” To stabler lolololol

UNDERCOVER JET IS SO FUCKING HOT OMG. And like… ALWAYS not just now, but woof.

If they don’t start diving into more of bell’s personal life this season I will riot. Like, we’ve got out first main cast openly queer character on the show and all they’ve done is break up her marriage and family and rarely touch on it again. Like, does she even get to see her son? (son, right lol) does she ever talk to denise? Are they friendly? Can we PLS see her start to branch out and date again to get some fucking representation cause fuck knows we’re not getting it anywhere else in this universe.

Omg not the piece of fucking duct tape over the apple logo on the back of this dude’s computer LOL.

What was that little shoulder touch? And why was there so much focus on it?? Sus

“you’re just gonna walk into that beehive” ma’am… this is Elliot we’re talking about. You’ve known him three years now, you should know he likes to play by the seat of his pants. AND THE FIRST THING HE DOES IS MAKE DIRECT EYE CONTACT WITH SOMEONE WHO LOOKS IN CHARGE?! DUDE. You’re dumb

Bobby and jet comforting each other and finding that comfort/coping with jamie’s death by fucking each other honestly makes perfect sense.

Okay, as much as I don’t ship eo and absolutely do not want it to be canon, I am thankful for more little mentions of the characters on the other shows. Like it didn’t make sense to bring back Elliot and have all the crossovers that we got and then pretend like they didn’t talk or keep up with what the other was doing in the eps that weren’t crossovers.

Okay. Now that’s done.

Fun fact: randall, this brother that we’re going to meet I now assume last week is being played by Jamie Gray Hyder’s husband. Cause like, I was suuuuper surprised to see Jamie at the 25th anniversary party, like, truly shocked that she would show up until I found this out LOL.

Honestly… SVU was the weak link of the premiers. If we had gotten more cute personal moments at the beginning with the baptism then it would jump up but we barely got any. It really seemed like a two part-er episode and I don’t think it is, or at least not one that will be continued next week. Either way, it was kinda meh.

#law and order #law and order svu #law and order oc #law and order organized crime #law and order: svu #law and order special victims unit #svu #olivia benson #spoilers #law and order spoilers

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mlobsters · 7 months

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supernatural s14e11 damaged goods (w. davy perez)

course i just said how sam and dean are good these days in the last recap and now dean is packing up a load of sketchy items (surely without telling him about the thing with billie), gives sam a damned hug and runs off alone to see mary. like that's not a big fat fucking red flag that he's about to do something really bad/stupid

SAM Sorry, I’m just – I’m worried, you know? Ever since we locked Michael up, Dean’s been acting strange, and he just packed up and left, and then, uh… MARY And what? SAM He hugged me. MARY That’s sweet. SAM Mom, we don’t hug. I mean, w-we do, but only if it’s literally the end of the world, you know? MARY Sam, he’ll be here soon. I’ll look after him. I’ll get to the bottom of this.

maybe you this is a sign you should hug in not world-ending situations too. but also, handy right now that you don't because it's a useful indicator of dean's mindset

SAM Yeah, alright. M-maybe it’s like you said, you know? Maybe he just needs some space, like Bobby. MARY Yeah. Well, and until we know for sure, we have to respect that.

+1 for all the good communication. between them, at least. -100 for dean

glad to see donna. dean on top tier deflection duty.

DONNA Just wondering if you’ve run out of ways to ask me how I’m doing, so as to avoid me repaying the favor. I know you were just possessed. Again. Sam. He had us all out, looking for you. And I know you got an archangel hitching a ride up there in your noggin. Also Sam. DEAN What does he got? A freakin’ newsletter?

good job, sammy

two of my biggest triggers are terminal illness and suicide and well sure acting like they're trying to go two for two this season.

MARY Awesome. You know, if you wanted to make it a full reunion, we could call Sam over. DEAN Yeah, you know, I was thinking I’d actually be a little greedy with my Mom time, if that’s cool. MARY Well, I just thought, you know, if you’re staying a few nights… DEAN I don’t want Sam here.

stressing me out.

and now some vague metalworking montage. ok. and nick who's basically lucifer 2.0 without powers now. which he does very well! but like. i'm tired

DEAN He’s soaking wet, and he’s pulling baloney and sliced cheese out of his pants. So, me being the big brother, I’m the cook. I take all that baloney, all that sliced cheese, and I put it onto a hot plate. MARY No. DEAN Yeah. MARY Oh. DEAN It stunk up that room so bad. Dad comes home, and he is so mad. He picks up everything, chucks it in the trash. Probably reminded him of you, and… Anyway, it did not taste right. It didn’t taste like this. MARY Oh. Sometimes I forget just how much I missed while I was gone and how much the two of you just… DEAN But you’re here now, right? And even though the last couple of years have been a little rough, just knowing that you’re around, that you’re alive… Mom, that’s meant everything to me. And everything to Sam.

you know i'll tuck every morsel of pre-series stories in my pocket. the double whammy of how much she missed, and how neglected they were

SAM Listen, Mom, I-I… I think I should come up. Uh, there’s some stuff missing from the bunker, and – MARY Sam, I don’t know what’s going on, but something is going on. Just give me some time. Let me talk to him, okay?

my kind of move. i think i should drive up there (already in the car halfway there)

DEAN Everybody keeps asking how I am. And how I am… is I don’t want to talk about it. Please.

well you're freaking everyone out and acting like you're about ready to drive off the cliff off throw yourself into the cage sooo

dean don't wear jeans to bed challenge (but nic, when he gets a phone call in the middle of the night and has to go wandering outside looking for mary, he doesn't have time to put on real pants)

MARY Okay, you’re right. I trapped him. We fought, and he was winning. So, I put him in an Enochian puzzle box. He’s contained.

what. is this new? or something else i've forgotten. makes me think of the niffin boxes in the magicians. new, apparently.

looks like one of john's (or bobby's, presumably) storage places

s3e3 bad day at black rock / s5e1 sympathy for the devil (both)

wiki says there was a tripwire with a shotgun in john's lockup that's featured in s3e3 and s5e1 too, like this one in wherever mary is

SAM It’s not about being dumb, Dean. It’s called compassion. Look, what happened to Nick could’ve happened to me. It almost happened to me. You change one little thing in our past, and that was me. Lucifer wearing me to the prom. And besides, since when do we give up on people? Since when do we just cut people loose? DEAN Well, maybe you need to learn, okay? ‘Cause when people are past the point of saving, maybe you need to learn to walk away.

sigh. well at least that's transparent enough sam should get the message

MARY I saw, Dean. Donna’s shed. I know what you’ve been building, planning. And we’re gonna talk about that. We are all three of us gonna talk about that. So if you don’t tell Sam… I will.

thank you, mary

DEAN Buried’s not safe enough. Plan is, pay a little hush money, charter a boat to take me out to the Pacific. Splash. SAM You and Michael, trapped together – for eternity?

so this episode is introducing an enochian puzzle box for trapping demons and a ma'lak box for trapping archangels. sure. dean's fashioned himself a topside cage. heavy sigh

SAM But there has to be another way. DEAN There’s not, okay? There – Sam you’ve tried. Cas has tried. Jack… And I love you for trying. But none of it’s gonna work. SAM We don’t know that. DEAN Yeah, we do. SAM What? DEAN Billie. SAM Billie? DEAN She paid me a little visit. She said that there’s only one way this ends right. And this is it. This, right here, this box. So, she gave up the special recipe, and all I had to do was the work. It’s fate. SAM Since when do we believe in fate? DEAN Now, Sam. Since now.

SAM So… you came out here to see Donna, to see Mom on some – some what? Some sick, secret farewell tour? You were gonna leave, and you weren’t even gonna tell me. Me. Do you realize how messed up that is, how unfair that is? DEAN I didn’t have a choice! Sam, you’re the last person I could tell, the last person I could be around, ‘cause you’re the only one that could’ve talked me out of it. And I won’t be talked out of it. I won’t. I’m doing this. Now, you can either let me do it alone… or you could help me. But I’m doing this. SAM All right.

thanks i hate everything about this. they did a good job. dean's voice even wavered, without him tearing up. but i'm never good with the suicide/noble sacrifice bullshit

(and mushy music swells at the end)

#supernatural #spnwatch #spn clip #spn 14x11 #davy perez #spn mushy music

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aspenmissing · 1 year

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𝙻𝚘𝚗𝚐-𝙳𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝙲𝚊𝚕𝚕 (𝙿𝚝 𝟸)

Inside the motel room, Y/N is typing on the laptop while Dean sits on the bed. Sam then enters.

"What's up?" Y/N asks.

"That girl Lanie, her mom’s ghost spooked her out pretty bad last night," Sam answers.

"That sucks," Dean says.

"Yeah, it does," Sam agrees, then looks to Y/N. "What are you doing?"

"I think Dad's right. I think the demon is here," Y/N stands up. "Check it out." She hands Sam some papers and goes to her bag. Dean gets up and joins Sam.

"What is this, weather reports?" Sam asks as Dean takes the papers.

"Omens. Demonic omens. Electrical storms everywhere we've been for the past two weeks."

"Ahh...I don't remember any lightning storms," Dean says.

"Well, I don't remember you studying meteorology as a kid either. But I'm telling you, that bastard's been tailing me...wearing some poor dude's meat," Y/N says.

"And it's following you because..."

"I guess I'm big game, you know. My ass is too sweet to let out of sight."

"Okay. Sure," Y/N grabs the papers back.

"Don’t get too excited, Guys. Might pull something," Y/N says.

"Theo, look, we wanna believe this, man," Dean says, gesturing to himself and Sam. "We really do..."

"Then believe it! If we get this sucker, it's Miller Time," Y/N says enthusiastically.

"Yeah, that's another thing. Dad rattles off an exorcism that can kill a demon?" Sam says. "I mean not just send it back to hell, but kill it?"

"I've checked it out. This is heavy-duty Dark Ages. Fifteenth century," Y/N explains.

"Yeah, Sam's checked on it too, Theo. So did Bobby, hell, even I checked it out," Dean adds.

"Okay, and?" Y/N asks.

"Look. It definitely is an exorcism, okay, there's just no evidence it can kill a demon," Sam explains.

"No evidence it can't," Y/N says confidently.

"Come on, man..." Dean says.

"Hey, as far as I'm aware, the only one of us who has actually been to hell is Dad," Y/N says. "And maybe he picked up a couple of tricks down there, like which exorcisms work."

"Maybe it does. I hope it does too, but we gotta be sure," Dean says.

"Why aren't we sure?" Y/N asks.

"'Cause I don't know what's going on around here, Dean! I mean, some guy blows his brains out, a little girl is scared out of her wits," Sam explains.

"Wow, a couple of civvies are freaked out by some ghosts. News flash, Sam, people are supposed to be freaked out by ghosts!" Y/N and Sam stare at each other for a long moment. Sam sighs and Y/N drops her head in frustration.

"Dad tell you where to find the demon?" Dean asks.

"I'm waiting on the call!" Sam sighs.

"I told Laine I'd stop by."

"Oh, good yeah," Y/N says sarcastically. "No, you go hang out with jailbait. Just, uh, watch out for Chris Hansen. Meanwhile, I'll be here getting ready to, you know, save my life." Sam keeps moving towards the door. "You're unbelievable, you know that? I mean for months we've been trying to break this demon deal. Now Dad's about to give us the freaking address and you can't accept it? The man is dead and you're still butting heads with the guy!"

"This is not what this is about," Sam protests.

"So, what is it?" Y/N demands.

"The fact is we've got no hard proof here, Y/N. After everything, you're still just going on blind faith!" Sam says.

"Yeah, well maybe! You know, maybe that's all I got, okay?" They stare at each other again before Y/N looks down.

"Please. Just please don't go anywhere until I get back. Okay, Y/N? Please," Sam pleads. Y/N remains silent. Sam shakes his head and turns for the door.

"Dean," Sam stops, as Dean turns to face Y/N. "Go with him." They were about to protest. "Please. Just go with him. I need some time to think." Sam looks over at Dean, nodding. Y/N watches them go and continues staring at the door for a long moment. She shakes her head and moves to sit heavily at the table.

In Lanie's bedroom, Dean and Sam are standing in front of Lanie, who is close to tears.

"Have you told your father about any of this?" Dean asks.

"And bother him at work? No. He wouldn't believe me anyway, he'd just chuck me into therapy," she replies.

"So, what did your mother say?" Sam asks.

"She wanted to see me. So, at first, I thought I was supposed to go to the cemetery."

"Did you?" Dean asks. Lanie nods.

"Nothing happened. But then she started asking me to do things."

"What sort of things?" Sam asks with a frown.

"Bad things," she answers, tears in her eyes.

Simon sits playing at his table. The phone rings and Simon looks over at his toy telephone sitting on the floor then walks over to it. The display reads SHA33.

"Hello? Simon Greenfield speaking. Hi Mommy. Yeah, I wanna see you. Where are you?"

Later, Y/N sits at the table staring at nothing. Her phone rings, and she snatches it up.

"Dad?" Y/N asks.

"Y/N."

"Where's the demon?"

Lanie turns around, facing away from the two.

"Lanie, please. Tell us what happened, it's very important," Sam says. Lanie turns to face them, tears falling.

"Mom told me to go to Dad's medicine cabinet."

"And?" Dean asks.

"She wanted me to take his sleeping pills, take all of his sleeping pills." Dean and Sam share a look of shock.

"She wanted you to kill yourself?" Lanie nods, covering her mouth with her hands, crying.

"Why would my mom want me to do that?" She asks.

"I don't know," Sam says.

"I mean, just so I could come to her?" Sam and Dean snap their heads to share a glance before looking back at Lanie.

"What'd you say?" Dean asks.

"She wanted me to come to her."

"No, how'd she say it?"

""Come to me." Like a million times." Dean and Sam share another look.

"Lanie," Sam says, "That's not your mother."

Y/N pulls up to a house and gets out. She grabs her weapons bag from the trunk, looks around, and moves towards the house.

"Listen to me. Don't answer the phone. Don't use the computer. Don't do anything unless we say to, all right?" Dean says. The brothers start down the stairs and realize Lanie's not following.

"Lanie," Sam says. Lanie stands in a doorway.

"Where's Simon?" She asks, looking at the boys worriedly.

Y/N quietly enters the house and moves down the hallway, listening. A floorboard creaks on the second floor.

"Rule one if entering a house. Never let them know you're there," she mutters. "Knowing Dean, he would have replied." Y/N drops a rosary into a large bottle of water. She then pulls back a rug and shakes a paint can before spraying a devil's trap on the floor.

Sam and Dean are driving down the road as Dean calls Y/N, placing it on speaker. She answers seconds later.

"Yeah?"

"Y/N, it's not Dad," Dean says.

"Then what is it?" Y/N asks.

"A crocotta," Sam answers.

"Is that a sandwich?" Sam shares a confused look with Dean, knowing Y/N is good at her supernatural beings.

"Some kind of scavenger. Mimics loved ones, whispers 'Come to me', then lures you into the dark and swallows your soul," Dean explains.

"A crocotta, right, damn, that makes sense," Y/N says.

"Y/N, look, we're sorry, man," Dean says, "we know..." He's cut off by Y/N.

"Hey, don't these things live in filth?" Sam and Dean share a look of confusion.

"Yeah," Sam replies.

"Guys, the flies at the phone company."

Sam and Dean creep along an alley and peek in a window at Stewie, sitting at his console.

"Sammy, I don't wanna walk on this guy. I mean, you saw what he was watching when we met him. He could be busy," Dean whispers, looking at Sam. Sam returns a grimace. "What? Sorry I don't wanna see his d—" The two are distracted by a banging noise and turn to look at the source. They look back to see Stewie leaving the room. Sam and Dean run back up the alley. Later, Stewie leaves the building. Sam and Dean hide behind a van, Sam holding his phone to his ear.

"This is Penny Munster. Leave a message," Y/N's voicemail says.

"Theo, we're in the parking lot. He's here. Hurry," Dean says, seeing Sam wanting to run up to Stewie.

"I say we wait for Y/N. We don't know how many of them there are," Sam looks at Dean, shaking his head. Stewie unlocks his car, and Sam rushes him, pushing him into the car and holding a metal spike to the back of his neck.

"What the hell!" Stewie grunts.

"I know what you are," Sam says.

"Wait, mister," Stewie tries to turn, but Sam pushes him against the car harder.

"And I know how to kill you," Sam threatens.

"Please. Okay, wait, wait. If we're overcharging you for the call waiting or something, I... I can fix that. I am your friend!" Sam looks confused. "Please. Please just don't kill me!" The manager from earlier sneaks up behind Sam. "Don't kill me, please!"

"Sam, behind you!" Dean shouts. Before Sam can turn around, the manager hits Sam over the head with a bat. Sam slumps to the ground. Dean runs up, gun in hand, and is about to shoot before the bat makes contact with the gun, knocking it out of his hands. "Son of a bitch." The manager then hits Dean over the head, rendering him unconscious beside Sam. Stewie turns around, sees the manager, grins, and starts bouncing up and down. "Yeah! That's what happens when you mess with the phone company, dillweed!" He looks to his manager. "Thank you, Clark!" Clark lifts the bat again.

"Forget about it."

"Clark?" Clark smashes Stewie with the bat.

Inside the Phone Company Basement, Stewie, Sam, and Dean are tied to chairs.

"I'm sorry, Clark. I'm sorry for whatever I did to you. I'm sorry... please," Stewie snivels. Sam and Dean begin to come to.

"Wait! Don't do it!" Sam says.

"He's got nothing to do with it," Dean says.

"You two are awake," Clark says. He leans over Stewie and places the tip of a knife against his thigh.

"You're not a killer, Clark, no! There's a good man inside of you, I know it," Stewie pleads.

"What do you think, boys, am I a good man?" Clark asks, looking to Sam and Dean.

"Just let him go," Sam pleads.

"I would. I really would. If only I'd had more than a salad for lunch. You see, I'm starving," Clark says. He lifts the knife high above his head and plunges it into Stewie's chest.

"No!" Sam and Dean shout. Clark moves in front of Stewie's body. His mouth opens, revealing a blood-red interior and razor-sharp spikes. He crouches slightly, holds Stewie by both shoulders, and unhinges his jaw, his mouth becoming impossibly wide. Placing his mouth close to Stewie's face, he sucks in his energy. Sam and Dean shudder and look away. Clark then stands up, wiping his mouth.

"Our last call with Y/N. That was you. You led us here," Sam says. "I knew she would know what a crocotta was."

"Some calls I make; some calls I take, but you have to admit, I had you fooled for a while. All that Edison phone crap," Clark laughs and moves over to the telephone exchange cabinet. He places his hands against the glass and leans back in ecstasy.

"What are you doing?" Dean asks.

"I'm killing your sister. Or maybe I'm killing another guy. We'll just have to see how it goes," Clark says.

In a Police Locker Room, a man's phone rings as he finishes changing. He looks at the number, glances over at the other person in the room, and answers.

"Hello?" The man says softly.

"Hi Daddy," a little girl's voice says through static.

"Hey baby. I thought you said you weren't gonna call anymore."

"I know, Daddy."

"You know how sad this makes your old man," he says. "How upset I was at your funeral."

"I had to call; I know who killed me Daddy."

"What?"

"The woman who killed me, she's at the house right now."

"What are you saying to me?" The man asks, shocked.

"She's at the house Daddy, she wants to kill you too!" Hanging up the phone, the man's face becomes set in stone.

Clark pulls the knife out of Stewie's chest.

"You know, mimicking Y/N's one thing. But our Dad," Dean says. "That's a hell of a trick."

"Well, once I made you three as hunters, it was easy," Clark pushes Stewie out of the way, his chair hitting the door. "I found Y/N's number, then your numbers, then your father's numbers," Clark explains, walking towards the two. "Then emails, voicemails, everything." Clark crouches in front of Sam, pointing the knife at Sam. However, Sam is secretly winding the wires from around their wrists. "You see, people think that stuff just gets erased, but it doesn't. You'd be surprised how much of yourself is just floating out there, waiting to be plucked."

"Y/N's not going to fall for this," Sam says, smiling smugly. "She's not going to kill that guy."

"Then the guy kills her."

Car headlights shine across the window into the room where Y/N waits. She silently moves toward the hallway as a car door slams. Y/N removes the lid from the bottle of holy water. She hears a noise toward the back of the house and frowns, moving down the hallway toward the back door. She pauses, then looks from the back to the front door.

The back door slams open, and the man appears, raising a rifle and firing. Y/N leaps out of the way, dropping the bottle of holy water. The Man begins reloading. Y/N glances at the holy water, it is draining away. She waits to hear the bullet shell being removed and runs for the man, using her forward movement to slam him back into the wall. She hits him a few times, then knees him viciously. Letting him drop, Y/N moves toward the rifle but the man follows, grabbing Y/N and slamming her backwards onto a table. He gets in a few hits before Y/N headbutts him. As the man falls backward to the ground Y/N kicks him in the stomach. She kicks him four times, pauses, then kicks him once more, even more viciously, grunting as she does so.

"Son of a bitch," she mutters.

Clark begins pacing around the room.

"Technology..." He uses the knife to pull a piece of Sam's hair out of his face. "Makes life so much easier." He circles around Sam and Dean. "Used to be I'd hide in the woods for days, weeks, whispering to people, trying to draw them out into the night." He stops to stand in front of Sam and Dean but facing Sam. "But they had community, they all looked out for each other, I'd be lucky to eat one or two souls a year. Now when I'm hungry, I simply make a phone call." Clark sneers. "You're all so connected. But you've never been so alone." Clark opens his mouth and begins to unhinge his jaw while raising his knife.

"I think to fuck not," Dean says, kicking Clark in the shins. While Clark looks to Dean, Sam has managed to escape his ties, his wrists bloody. He erupts out of the chair, and they fall to the ground, Clark losing the knife. They struggle for it, Sam rising first. Clark grabs Sam's jacket and swings him around into a metal grate. Clark picks up the knife, running at Sam. "Sam! Dammit!" Dean begins to wind the wires from around his bloody wrists, desperate to help his brother.

Y/N and the man slam through a glass door, the man becoming groggy. Y/N quickly reaches for the man's belt, pulling out a handgun, flicking the cartridge out and tossing it aside. As the man struggles to get to his feet, covered in glass, Y/N pulls back the rug, showing the devil's trap sprayed onto the floor. She turns away, pulling the exorcism out of her pocket. The man, confused, stares at the markings on the floor.

"What is this?" He asks.

"Your funeral," Y/N begins the exorcism in Latin. The man glares at her and slowly moves forward out of the circle.

"You do this to my daughter too?" Y/N stares at the devil's trap.

"How the hell did you get out?" She asks.

"Did you do this to my daughter too?!" The man shouts.

"Wait, this is a mistake."

"You killed her!!"

"No, wait," the man leaps at Y/N.

Sam and Clark struggle for the knife, exchanging blows as they move about the room. Dean manages to get out of his restraints finally and pulls the knife away, hitting Clark, forcing him backwards into the wall. A spike, one of many on a corkboard, jams into the back of Clark's neck, killing him. Dean watches as Clark chokes on his blood before turning to Sam, breathing heavily.

"You alright?" Dean asks. Sam nods. Dean looks back to Clark. "You’re a son of a bitch!"

The man falls on Y/N as she lies on the ground, laying onto her.

"She was 9 years old!"

"Stop!" Y/N shouts. "I didn't! You gotta believe me!" The man keeps hitting her. Y/N manages to twist around and grab the rifle, smacking the man in the forehead with the butt. He falls backward as Y/N rises, standing over him.

"Why did you kill her?" The man cries.

"I'm sorry. I didn't kill your daughter. I would never dream of killing a kid," Y/N says, looking at the man with sympathy.

"Then what are you doing here?" Y/N looks around.

"I don't know," Y/N says, anguished.

Back in the motel room, Y/N holds a facecloth to her cut eye, groaning. Sam and Dean enter the room and come to the door of the bathroom.

"I see they improved your faces," Y/N says, smirking. Sam and Dean snigger.

"Right back at ya," Dean says. Y/N moves past Sam and Dean into the main room, pulling up a chair to the beds while Sam and Dean sit on them.

"So, crocotta, huh?"

"Yep," Sam says.

"That would explain the flies."

"Yeah, it would," Dean agrees. "Hey, um...look we're sorry it wasn't Dad," Y/N huffs.

"Nah, I gave you two a hell of a time on this one..."

"Ahh," Dean says.

"You were right," Y/N says.

"Forget about it," Sam says.

"I can't. I wanted to believe so badly that there was a way outta this. I mean, I'm staring down the barrel at this thing. You know, Hell. For real, forever, and I just..."

"Yeah," Sam says softly.

"I'm scared, guys," Y/N says, tearing up. "I'm really scared."

"We know," Dean says, as he and Sam also tear up.

"I guess I was willing to believe anything. You know, the last act of a desperate woman."

"There's nothing wrong with having hope, Y/N," Sam says.

"Hope doesn't get you jack squat. I can't expect Dad to show up with some miracle at the last minute. I can't expect anybody to, you know. I mean the only person that can get me out of this thing is me."

"And us," Sam says, earnestly.

"And me?" Y/N says.

"What?" Dean asks.

"Deep revelation, having a real moment here, that's what you come back with? And me?" Sam raises his eyebrow.

"Uh...do you want a poem?" Sam asks.

"The moment's gone..." Sam and Dean smile slightly. Y/N flicks the TV on while Dean reaches between the beds, grabs three bottles of beer and holds two out to Sam and Y/N without looking at them. Sam and Y/N take one, they crack them open and drink in unison, while staring at the TV.

Later that night, Y/N is sat on the chair, staring into darkness with a beer in hand. She thinks for a bit before going over to Sam's bed, sitting on the edge. She places her hand on his head, gently rubbing.

"When you were born, I made a promise. That I will always be there for you, and I'll always protect you. I said even when I'm old and wrinkly, I'll use my walking stick to beat some asses" Y/N gently laughs at the thought. She brushes a piece of hair away from Sam's face "But I need you to promise me something. You may not hear me, but I know you'll know. When I'm gone, when I'm buried 6 feet underground" Y/N looks over at Dean, smiling sadly before back at Sam.

"Look after your stupid brother because he'll need it. He'll need you more than ever. And I know that it may be tough at first, but it's Dean what do you expect" She leans down, smiling "I love you, so, so much, Sammy. You and your brother are my whole life, and I would do anything to protect you" She kisses his head softly, she holds for a couple of seconds before pulling away. She stands up and walks to Dean's bed, pulling up the covers "Good dreams, okay De. " She sits back in the chair she was sat in previously, drinking her beer.

#supernatural #older sister winchester #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fandom #reader insert

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from-a-reckless-writer · 3 years

Note

33 plus 43 for (for post finale maybe?) SC if you fell like it? All of those screams SC tbh. It was hard to pick.

There is a tiredness settling deep in Kara's bones as she picks up the last of Alex's and Kelly's gift from the car and into their house.

"Is that the last of it?" Eliza asks, standing in the middle of the living room surrounded by towering stacks of wedding gift after wedding gift.

"Yes. It is. Thank Rao," Kara groans. She loves Alex, truly she does, and she's happy that she's out there having the time of her life with Kelly--they more than deserve it. But Rao, this entire day has her spent, between waking up at 5 a.m to help with the make-up and Alex's suit, and prepping the venue, and then Ms. Grant's impromptu promotion/life coaching session. At this point Kara just wants to pass out then and there on their living room floor.

"Great." Eliza claps her hand together, "Thank you for all your help. We can sort all this out tomorrow. Have it shipped to your sister's place. You should go rest, sweetheart. You look tired."

"Okay yeah, sounds good," Kara lets out a breath of relief at finally being off-duty. "G'night mom."

She trudges up the stairs, each step wearing her down. A familiar fluttering heartbeat stops her in the hallway though, has her peeking through the door. Esme sleeping sandwiched between Brainy and Nia. All wearing matching pajamas. For a moment, the tiredness seem all worth it.

She closes the door softly, continues padding down the hallway. When she reaches her old bedroom, she all but spills into it. All weary limbs and aching joints, which she thought was impossible for a Kryptonian, but apparently not.

"Hey," A deep comforting voice calls for her, and when Kara looks up, sees Lena drying her hair with a towel, wearing a sweatshirt two sizes too big on her, sitting in her old bed, the sheer relief that floods through her just makes her goddamn cry.

"H-hi," Kara chokes out, as Lena lets out a worried gasp, rising up from the bed to immediately get to Kara.

"Oh, hey, hey, Kara? What's wrong?? Tell me what's wrong?"

It should be embarrassing how this is the third time today that she's bawling her eyes out in front of Lena. But there's no shame now, she only feels safety when she's with her.

"What do you need?"

"Just hug me please?"

Kara's still wearing her dress from earlier, and the moment Lena's softness sinks against her bare skin, everything in her decompresses. More tears stream down her face. A shuddering sob passing in between their bodies, and Lena wraps around her tighter, holds her together, keeps her whole.

"Kara," Lena whispers, "do you want to freshen up first? And then, maybe we can continue cuddling on the bed?"

"Mm, yeah," she hums, still clutching tight. "Okay, yeah. That sounds good. Thank you." She reluctantly lets Lena go, sniffling and wiping her tears. The bathroom at the end of the hall still looks the same, smells the same, the same brand of shampoo and conditioner standing against the wall. Her movements feel mechanical, and she's too out of it to realize that she forgot to take out the braid and pins in her hair. She sighs at her reflection in the mirror, a crinkle forming in frustration, but otherwise decides to just let it be.

And Lena, sweet Lena, seems to understand her little crisis, when she enters the bedroom again.

"Come here," Lena says, tapping the blanket. "come on, lay down. I got you."

Kara throws her used towel somewhere in the direction of her open luggage, before climbing in. She folds her long limbs, curls in on her herself, settling on Lena's lap. Fingers start to work on her hair, pulling and tugging gently. Lena shifting every few moments, depositing the bobby pins on her bedside table, reaching over for a hairbrush. Kara hums contentedly as Lena starts brushing, eyelids growing heavy.

"Thank you, Lena," she manages to whisper before giving in, and falling into unconsciousness.

When she wakes, it's with the same sensation of fingers carding through her hair.

"Don't stop," she requests.

"Good morning to you, too." She hears Lena's voice, from somewhere above. Kara just hums, nuzzles closer against what feels like Lena's collarbone.

There's a million and one things she still needs to unpack from yesterday, but it's a new day and Lena's just there. And well? All of that can wait till later.

#u kno wat? im headcanon-ing that the wedding took place somewhere in midvale #dis is such a word vomit fic with absolutely no coherent direction #but whatever the point of this exercise is lazy writing anyway #the reckless writer writes #a prompt fill #a supercorp ficlet of sorts #supercorp

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peach-and-bugs · 2 years

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shell + bobbi morse please!

💙Shell - Bobbi Morse x fem presenting!Reader💙

Fanfiction master list

Summary: A few months into Bobbi's knee recovery, you manage to organize a beach day for the team in the hopes that it will help your girlfriend relax a bit

Warnings: no pronouns for the reader are used, but they are wearing a two-piece swimsuit

Word Count: 2,707

A/N: It's time for more Bobbi! I love this lady so much that it's unreal. And it seems like I'm currently the only person on Ao3 writing for her semi-regularly, so go figure. This fic actually turned into a somewhat sequel/continuation of my first Bobbi fic from a few months back called Shots (which you can read here and on Ao3). Nothing else to really say, but I hope you enjoy it and as always, feel free to leave questions or comments in my comments or ask box, and happy reading! 💙

Bobbi Morse Tag List:

General Tag List:

-💙-

How you managed to get this idea of your together was somewhat bewildering, but exciting, nonetheless. You'd worked it all out with Coulson after quite a bit of convincing and long evenings making plans, you had organized a full beach day for the team. You justified the idea by sighting how hard everyone had been working and with the lull in S.H.E.I.L.D worthy cases now was the perfect time for a day off.

The rest of the team had been somewhat confused by Coulson’s announcement and orders to pack, but they seemed enthusiastic enough. But your girlfriend Bobbi hadn’t been around to hear the news. Recently, she’d been cooped up in her room since she still wasn’t cleared for field duty. She understood why, given her current health status, but it had been hard lately. That was part of why you'd pushed for a day at the beach.

“Hey Bob, you in there? You asked, wrapping your knuckles against the door to her room. It moved with a gentle creak and you poked your head inside to find her curled up in bed. She was sat up with her back against the wall her bed was pushed against. Papers sprawled across the sheats beside her as she scanned some text on her tablet.

She had her hair tied back and reading glasses perched on her nose. You couldn’t help smiling at the sight, especially the glasses. Normally she refused to wear them, but she had to admit they helped her eyes, especially when she insisted on staring at a screen so often.

“You good, Bobbi?” you asked, pushing the door fully open as you leaned your shoulder against the doorframe. She hummed but didn’t look up and began absently gnawing the end of a pen in her hand. You laughed and moved into the room, pulling her desk chair across the room to sit in front of her. “Bobbi,” you repeated. When she didn’t reply again you gently took the tablet out of her grip. She looked up finally and you laughed again at her stunned expression.

“When did you-” she began but you shook your head.

“Bobbi, you need a break,” now it was her turn to shake her head as she reached for the tablet that you held away from her. “No buts! We all need a break and we’re getting one,” you grinned brightly but Bobbi continued to appear confused.

“We’re all going to the beach,” you wiggled your brow as you said it.

“For a mission? y/n, I’m not cleared for the field yet,” you rolled your eyes and stood up from the desk chair, tablet still in hand.

“No, Bob. I organized a beach day for the team and we’re getting ready to go in twenty,” Bobbi arched a brow pursing her lips with an unsure expression.

“Does Coulson know about this?” you began backing out of the room with a shiny grin still plastered across your cheeks.

“Yes, now get ready. We’re meeting at the quinjet,” you left her with that and scurried down the hall to your room to prep.

-*-

You met the others at the quinjet, just as planned, approaching with a bright smile and a tote bag thrown over your shoulder. Daisy was the first to notice you and waved you over to her and Mac. The mechanic carried folding chairs onto the plane and Daisy stood a large umbrella beside her.

“How’d you even convince Coulson to do this, y/n?” Daisy asked, nudging your shoulder with hers. She’d pulled her hair back into a stubby ponytail and was wearing a pair of cutoff shorts with a crop top and sandals. It was very similar to your outfit, only you'd worn a tank top.

“We needed a break and I guess Phil agreed,” you said with a shrug.

“True that. And everyone seems into it,” Daisy’s eyes scanned around the small crowd. “Hell, even May’s beach-ready,” she whispered in your ear, pointing to the older agent. She was wearing a rather flowy coverup that shockingly wasn’t black with a sunhat and sunglasses. She also carried a similar bag to your own in one hand.

“Ten bucks says she’s got some kind of weapon in there, just in case,” you snorted a laugh, which got May’s attention and you had to cover your mouth with your hands to hide it. Jemma and Fitz caught your attention and you waved them over with you. The scientist has quite a few bags with them, including a picnic basket that Jemma carried and a cooler that Fitz dragged behind him.

“Where'd you even get a picnic basket around here?” Daisy asked. Jemma frowned slightly and arched a brow.

“Why wouldn’t I have one?” she asked with a tilt of her head. She quickly moved on as she excitedly told you all the different snacks she’d had time to prepare.

“We’ve got sandwiches and some chips as well as sliced vegetables and I had time to make a fruit salad with whatever was lying around,” she opened the basket to show you and it was quite organized to your surprise. “Oh! And the cooler’s full of drinks,”

“That’s great Jemma, thanks,” you said. She blushed a bit at the compliment ans batted her hand in the air, shutting the basket.

“Oh, it’s nothing. But I may have gotten a bit carried away as I’m just a little excited,”

“Yeah, well I hope it goes alright. Just Image we take one day off and-” you stopped talking and smiled bright, reaching your hand up and standing on your tiptoes as Bobbi entered the hanger. “Bobbi!” you yelped rather loudly as the blonde approached your group. She smiled awkwardly as she arrived and greeted your friends.

“Ok, are we all good?” Coulson asked. He was standing on the ramp of the plane. Bay had disappeared, assumingly to the cockpit. You scanned the group, taking note of where everyone was. Mac was helping Fitz with the cooler while Hunter commentated and you stood with Jemma, Daisy, and Bobbi.

“I think we’re all good here,” you replied and Coulson signaled for everyone to get on board. You trailed behind with Bobbi, who seemed more nervous than you'd have taken her for. “You ok?” you asked quietly, taking her hand. She flinched slightly at your touch but relaxed realizing it was you.

“Yeah, all good,” she began walking with you onto the plane. “I’m just worried about the base. What if something happens while we’re gone,” you could recognize she was beginning to spiral, so you leaned up and kissed her cheek, stopping her in her tracks.

“It’s going to be fine, Bob. We’re going to have a nice time and relax for a bit, ok?” after a pause, she nodded, sitting beside you on the plane. You squeezed her hand as you buckled in. “did you bring your knee brace?” you asked. She nodded, adjusting to give you a better look at her injured knee. It had been healing very well, but still had a ways to go. You have her another peck on the cheek as the plane took off and you were on your way.

-*-

Not to your surprise, Bobbi went right to sleep shortly after takeoff. She had adjusted in her seat and was lying with her back pressed up against your shoulder, and with the quiet hum of the plane engine, she was out like a light. You'd kept up casual conversation with your team as you let her rest. Daisy couldn't seem to get over the display of affection from your girlfriend and spent the majority of the trip whispering to Jemma about it. You didn’t mind though. You knew your girlfriend was cute and this was a side of her that you’d become quite comfortable with over the past few months.

She didn’t wake up until the plane landed, and that was only after you nudged her awake. She hummed a little under her breath as she stirred and tried to grab hold of you to keep you next to her, which was what she often did when you had to leave her early in the mornings.

“We’re here, hun,” you murmured when the plane had emptied, leaving you alone.

“I like it when you call me that,” she murmured, sitting up as she rubbed her eyes. Yod stood up since she removed herself from you and stretched out your arms.

“When I call you what?”

“hun, “ she repeated. You smiled and wrapped your arms around her waist as he stood up.

“Just for you, hun,” Bobbi snorted and shoved a hand into your face.

“That’s a bald-faced lie!”

“What, no way,”

“Yes, way! You call everyone hun and you don’t even realize it,” the blond laughed, her hands moving to your hips as she spoke.

“I don’t believe you for one second-”

“Are you two ever going to get off my plane?” you both turned with startled expressions as May stood in front of you with crossed arms and an impatient look on her face. You'd both forgotten that she needed to lock up. You managed an awkward smile and took Bobbi’s hand as you picked up your bag.

“Sorry May,” you called as you tugged Bobbi along with you and out of the plane, catching one last glimpse of May as she shook her head. You began to giggle as you let go of Bobbi’s hand and ran down to the beach, stopping at the sand line. She met you as you took in a deep breath, immediately relaxing as your lungs were filled with sun and salty air.

“I haven't been to a beach in years,” Bobbi commented beside you.

“I know,” you murmured, taking her hand again with a tight squeeze. She gave you a semi-surprise look and you shrugged. “You’ve mentioned it once or twice,” you gave her a stupid grin and handed her your bag, then promptly removed your tank top to reveal the top half of your swimsuit. You took your bag back and put the top in it, then turned your attention back to the beach as Daisy called you over from the shoreline.

“Come on,” you said, taking Bobbi’s hand back and guiding her down the sand. The blonde spent most of the day with you, trailing behind you as you got into shenanigans and watching from the shore as you tried to teach yourself to serf with Daisy, who’d rented a board earlier in the day. She kept reminding you to reapply sunscreen and made sure you got something to eat, and overall it was a nice day, but you couldn’t help that Bobbi wasn’t enjoying herself.

She was sitting in the shade with May, who was reading a novel, and Coulson who’d fallen asleep beside her on a towel as Daisy convinced everyone else to get in the water for one last swim. You left them to swim as the sun began to set and checked in with Bobbi.

“You’ve been quiet,” you commented with a tilt of your head. She looked up and offered a tired smile. “Come walk with me?” you asked, offering her your hand. She took it and used your weight to help her to her feet.

“May, we’ll be back in a bit.

“Good. we’re leaving in about a half-hour,” she said without looking up from her book. You walked off down the shoreline, hand in hand, and waved to your friends as they splashed each other in the water. Walking away from the group, a comfortable silence filled the space between you and you listened to the in and out swooshing of the water.

Looking at Bobbi, you couldn’t help but wonder if she was feeling alright. She hadn’t gotten in the water or done anything super active like you would have expected. You started to wonder if an outing like this was too soon and you’d pushed her farther than you meant to out of excitement.

“I had a nice time with you today,” she murmured, pulling you out of your head and back with her.

“Really? I was just wondering if you enjoyed yourself,” you admitted, linking your fingers with hers as you leaned against her arm. She hummed quietly, resting her cheek atop your head.

“I did,”

“But you didn’t join in any of the games or-” Bobbi began to laugh lowly, stopping the words as they came out. “What”

“I just wanted some time with you is all,” she sighed, squeezing your hand. “I know you planned this whole thing for me and wanted it to be my day, but I think you needed it more than I do,” she explained.

“I don’t think I get what you're trying to say,” Bobi stopped walking and stepped away from you. Without warning she sat down in the sand, pulling her knees against her chest and under her chin. You sat beside her, leaving a little space between you. Bobbi wasn’t having that and wrapped her arm around you, pulling you against her rather forcefully. You let out a light laugh with her and snuggled into her shoulder.

“Throughout my whole recovery, you’ve been right by my side. And that’s all I’ve needed to keep going. But youve needed a break,” she explained. “And before you argue, just listen,” she interjected just as you began to open your mouth and do just that.

“When I was still in the recovery after surgery, I woke up nearly every night, and without fail, there you were, waiting right by my side. And if you weren't awake, you would be in a few seconds,” she chuckled, eyes fixated on the sunset as it reflected off the water, drowning the beach in an overlay of orange and pink. “ I couldn’t help feeling grateful, but also guilty for that, because I just wanted to give you a break. And I think today, even though it was meant for me, is that break that I’ve wanted to give you,” she turned to look into your eyes and you thought your heart might burst at the sight of the warm, affectionate softness of her eyes.

Wordlessly, you leaned forward, took her face between your hands, and kissed her. Her hands slid around your waist, tenderly holding the small of your back. She pulled you so close, wanting there to be no space between you that she toppled over into the sand and took you down with her. You parted to laugh and assure that her knee was ok. Once she gave that confirmation, you stroked the loose bits of blonde hair from her forehead and did it all over again.

“For you, I’d do it all again, Morse,” you murmured as you parted once more. She grinned, wrinkling her nose affectionately.

“I know, and so would I,” after some time, you parted and helped her to her feet.

“We better be heading back,” you dusted the sand off her back and out of her hair “and we’ll both need a shower to get all this sand off,” you added under your breath.

“Hmm, sounds like a date,” she hummed with a familiar grin as she began to walk back down the beach, only to stop in her track and move down to the waterline.

“Bob, we don’t have time for swimming now,” you started but she leaned forward and pulled something from the wet sand. You followed her as she seemed to wash it off in the salty water and stood to her full height with a rather excited look on her face.

“Look at this,” she said as she dropped something in your hand. Upon further inspection, it appeared to be a conch shell of some kind. It was rather small and fit nicely in the palm of your hand and with the fading sunlight, it had a rather shiny pink hue to it. “A memento,” Bobbi said, curling your fingers around it to make sure you kept it. And you did. Even now, as time passed, that little shell found its place on your shelves, nestled up with all the other wonderful things that reminded you of your Bobbi Morse.

#bobbi morse #bobbi morse x reader #agents of s.h.i.e.l.d fanfic #mockingbird x reader #fanfiction requests #requests open #fic request #requested

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liesoverthec · 3 years

Text

OG 911 Character Details from Canon Pt 1

Hi folks! Welcome to my post of character details for fic writers or really anyone who wants to know! All of these details come directly from the show - they’re just things I picked up on watching the show on intense repeat for screen time, so the details are about as canon as they can get. Some of them, like addresses, come from an specific episode, while others are trends I’ve picked up on. If you want a “citation” for a fact let me know and I can provide one if it exists!

I tried to include a good range of information between the 7 main characters, so that it was available for anyone.

I’m going to keep making these posts every time I get enough details collected so you can find them all under “911 canon character details” in the future! I’m committed to rewatching the whole series again for the regulars’ screen time, so I’ll be making more of these posts throughout the summer. If there’s something in particular you’d like to know, let me know and I can keep an eye out for it.

Things I noticed that might be interesting character details, part 1:

Athena and Bobby live at 1810 Fallsgrove St.

Eddie lives at 4995 S Bedford St Apt 403 (Julia made this fantastic post of the layout of Eddie’s house, and I’ve spent my own significant amount of time trying to work it out, so when I say this layout is spot on, I really mean it). (I believe this is more of a duplex situation - ie he has other neighbors attached to his outside walls, but no downstairs or upstairs neighbors.)

(These two locations are 8 minutes apart, which I personally thought was vvvvvv useful if you wanted to have someone rush from one place to another - also makes me think the 118 would be close to that neighborhood.)

Chim and Maddie live in apartment 2B. It’s a one-bedroom apartment, so currently Jee-Yun is sleeping in their room with them. I’ll be curious to know if they move as she gets older or if they magically spring up a bedroom for her - I just know there isn’t one at the moment bc Albert slept on their couch first, and then when he was injured, THEY slept on the couch.

Buck has two bathrooms! There’s one immediately to the left as you walk in his front door, and then one up in the loft, off the platform. Which I thought was a large number of bathrooms for a loft since it’s such a small space, but useful for when Christopher is visiting I suppose...

The hospital they go to for personal stuff is First Presbyterian. They’ve only started featuring its name prominently this season, but it’s the same waiting room and ER they’ve been using since s2, so I’d assume it’s also in the same neighborhood, since it’s fictional.) It’s on Altamont Street.

Given that you can see the Cecil Hotel from Michael’s apartment, I’d assume he either lives on S Spring St or S Los Angeles St. Either way he’s about twice as far from Athena and Bobby as Eddie is, and in the opposite direction.

Alcohol preferences - Athena prefers white wine, but will also drink rose and red, Hen drinks red and beer but doesn’t do it socially as much as everyone else, Chim is p much strictly beer unless it’s a fancy dinner (or tequila if he really wants to get drunk), Maddie prefers white wine, Buck drinks beer or white wine, and Eddie is a beer dude, red wine if it’s a fancy occasion (this is what they choose if they have a choice like at a bar, or if they’re hosting - eg when Athena hosts, EVERYONE drinks white because that’s what she’d choose.)

Eddie does not have the Hildy coffee maker on his kitchen counter - he still has an older model that only makes coffee.

He also likes to decorate in the color turquoise! (Maybe Shannon liked turquoise so that’s what he tends to buy?? That’s your decision, there’s just a lot of it in his kitchen. Also, his laptop case is turquoise!)

Hen gets a new pair of glasses every year. (Which means she’s doing better than me, I only get a new pair when I lose the old ones 😂)

Athena has two big diamond rings, and she wears one on each of her ring fingers (Bobby has good taste). She does not wear her rings while working.

Bobby has a gold wedding band for home, and wears a black silicone ring at work.

Hen wears her wedding ring all the time, and it’s a plain silver band.

Eddie had a gold wedding band while he was married to Shannon, and he wore it while on active duty in the Army (even during the helicopter crash). He is wearing it after Shannon leaves, but he takes it off before he comes to LA. His St. Christopher’s medal is silver with a navy border, hanging on a silver chain.

Chim prefers the short sleeve uniform. He really never wears the long sleeved one.

Eddie likes soft jazz, and will play it in the background during dinner. Idk if it’s his favorite type of music, but he likes it enough to put it on.

Buck has a picture of the ocean (I think? it’s definitely some sort of landscape) in his work locker - no other photos currently. Eddie has also been seen using this same locker.

Everyone has an iPhone and if they have a computer, it’s a Mac (this one is just bc capitalism - the show is sponsored by Apple). Hen has a red phone case, and Maddie has a navy one with gold trim, everyone else’s is super boring black/navy.

Maddie’s contact for Chim is “Howie” in her phone.

In Eddie’s phone, his contact for Buck is just “Buck”.

Bobby is just “Bobby” in Buck’s phone.

Christopher’s current interests are space and dinosaurs. And gaming!

In addition to Eddie and Albert, Chim also seems to like baseball, going off the jersey on his wall.

Every time we’ve seen Buck and Eddie drive somewhere together, Buck has driven and Eddie took the passenger seat.

Both Eddie and the Wilsons have a fireplace in their living room with framed photos of their kids at various ages.

Karen is a doctor! It’s a PhD, so she couldn’t join the team as a medic, but it does make them the future Drs Wilson. Her specialization is something to do w/ physics or chemistry etc, b/c she worked on a project for JPL on Mars, so you can run with that.

Michael is an architect, and David is a neurosurgeon who can help with emergency medicine.

Work masks: Bobby, Maddie and Athena prefer masks with a loop over each ear, while Eddie, Chim, Buck and Hen use the ones with two straps behind the head. Everyone uses the two ear loop ones for personal time.

Buck sleeps with socks on.

I hope the start to this list met up to your expectations, but if you’re looking for more then it will be on the way soon! I just wanted to get this first set out (plus it was looking a little long in my drafts 😂)

Lots of love!

🐝

Tagging: @imaginebuck

#911 fox #9-1-1 #911 on fox #911 canon character details #athena grant #bobby nash #maddie buckley #evan buckley #hen wilson #chimney han #eddie diaz #buddie #bathena #madney #henren #userac #alcohol

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red-doll-face · 3 years

Note

Hey I love reading your Thomas Hewitt stories and I was wondering if you can write one with Thomas Hewitt being a dom and a little with his female s/o if your comfortable writing it or you can do a Thomas Hewitt and female s/o where they grew up with each other and she had to leave for because of her parents and a couple years later she comes back and surprises him and the family ☺️😅

It’s not that im not up for it I just wasn’t sure if u wanted nsfw or fluff but the second prompt was a bit more clear, if you’re still interested in the first maybe send me a few more details and I’ll see what I can do ! Sorry this took forever to write 🥲

WC: 1285

Warnings; nothing much this is sort of fluffy , mentions of bullying and blood

Thomas B. Hewitt x gn Reader

One and Only

“C’mon, come play with us!” Blonde summer hair bounced around with all of the other girls on the school ground, the other girls with their dresses and bobby socks. Your mother, a dutiful teacher at the school made you wear clothes that seemed to fit right in with them but no matter what she dressed you in, you never were enthusiastic about playing with them.

“Yeah, leave the dumb ugly boy crying in the ditch.” They laughed, cruelly. Your brows furrowed.

“But he’s bleeding.” You mutter and they boo you and blow raspberries at you.

“Who cares, he’s so ugly,” They chitter and some become uninterested enough to wander away. Your heart bleeds like he does as you begin to climb into the ditch he was tossed in. This was the worst anyone had ever done to poor Tommy B. Hewitt. His face was scarred and flaky, thus the target of every person with a mean bone in their body. Girls and boys would poke at him. Prod him like a circus attraction.

“Tommy? Where’s your mama?” He sobs in the ditch, blood from tumbling over sharp things dripping down the tan skin of his arm. Your pressed white shirt has a brown smudge on it already. He never answers that question. You don't say anything either for a moment, watching him heave. You try to help him up but he’s too heavy for you to carry up the steep slope. He must have dirt all over his face. Dirt all over your shoes. You frown and look at the ridge of the hole you're in. His mama’ll never see him from up there. He might never go home. You couldn't imagine him laying in the ditch behind the schoolyard all night, his poor mama crying out for him and he none the wiser. Sleeping in the dirt. You know what his mama looks like. So, you wait on top of the ridge. Eventually, Tommy’s mama comes around.

“You seen my son, child?”

“Yes, Ms.Hewitt. He’s in there. The older boys beat him and pushed him in. Can’t get him out anyhow. I tried.” You point towards the boy. Small for someone so big for his age. His papa must be the size of Mt. Rushmore. The woman gasps and stumbles down the incline.

“You rotten things! My baby down here bleedin’!” She helps her son to stand and you finally see his face. It is indeed covered in dirt and tears. The red scarring raises over the lower half of his face. Tommy sees you looking and he chokes back a sob, letting his head bow to face the ground. His mama can’t quite get him out either so you help her tug him up. His ankle might have gotten hurt. The woman, though judging you as one of the children who tormented her son, thanks you.

“You do this to my son?” She glares down at you and you shake your head.

“Good.”

Tommy’s family has a plantation a few miles away from the town and many a mile away from the slaughterhouse. You and your mama live in the area. Mama sometimes goes down to give Luda Mae, Tommy’s mama, some books for Tommy. She won’t let him go to school no more seeing as how they nearly broke her son's leg. You go down with her, no one to look after you at the house. You hide behind her skirt but she shoos you away to go play with Tommy. She and Ms. Luda Mae talk about tea and rancher’s gossip. Tommy’s in the parlor. Bits of fabric and a tin full of needles sit on the floor with him. You tilt your head.

“What’re you doing?” You speak and he startles. He looks like he might cry again and you're not sure what to do. You watch as he shrinks in on himself. You kneel down next to him, picking up a thread he had cut and a needle.

“Need help threading it?” He fumbles and snatches the items. He tries to show you he can do it, quickly becoming frustrated. He hadn’t the tact for it but it could be learned.

“Here,” you show him your trick, placing the bristled thread between your lips for a second, then slipping it easily in the eye. You pull it out and tell him to try. He slowly copies your actions and you smile.

You remember the Hewitt boy fondly. You remember him when he was his happiest. Unfortunately, your mother couldn't afford to live in the town anymore after her work dried up and the water followed behind. She had found a job in Dallas, as her child you went where she did. You were sad that you had to leave poor Tommy B. Hewitt behind, you knew you were the only friend he ever had.

Now, you live in Dallas, looking after your mother. She teaches kids piano and you work in the city. Your mother one day mentions the quaint country house you used to live in and you decide to go see if it's still standing. Driving down the dusty roads brings back memories of simpler days. You remember, suddenly the sullen face of Tommy too. He had been so sad to see you drive away. You waved at him.

The plantation house is still there. A lot dingier and darker than you could recall. You fear for a moment that it's abandoned but there are signs of life. You carefully walk up to the porch, knowing Tommy’s uncle had set traps to catch varmint all of the time. You make it and knock. The weathered face of Ms. Luda Mae answers, looking surprised and then her face sours.

“If it ain't the city slicker.” She furrows her brow, glasses on beads pulled up to rest on the tip of her nose.

“Hi Ms. Luda Mae. How’ve you been?” You try to be friendly but she appears to be resistant to your smile and warm tone.

“Fine, just fine. You?” It’s southern politeness, she doesn't seem an ounce interested.

“Good, I haven't been down here since-”

“Since you left. Broke my only son’s heart, you did.” You frown. You hadn’t meant to but you won't fill your mouth with excuses. She knows why you left.

“Tommy’s still around?”

“Yup. I’m not sure he’ll want to see you. I’ll call him over anyway.” She closes the door a moment and shuffles off into her house. You stand patiently, waiting. Lumbering footsteps approach the door and stop. Nervous maybe. You don’t call out to him, soon the creak of the door assures you he does want to see you.

“Hi Tom-” He picks you up and hoists you in a hug. You gasp, his arms tightening around your middle. He’s grown up now, you can tell. He’s tall and built like a brick house. He places you down after a moment, hands on your shoulders as if to make sure you’re real. To make sure you’ll stay. He has a mask on to cover a face you’ve already seen.

“Tommy B. Hewitt, do you remember me?” He nods and looks down on you with those familiar brown eyes.

“Your mama said I broke your heart. That true?” He averts his eyes in embarrassment. Looking rather sheepish for a man the size of a bull. He doesn't indicate any form of yes. You comfort him anyway.

“I’m sorry Tommy. Wasn't a thing I could do. Do you forgive me?” He nods after a moment.

“Fill me in on what’s happening round here?” He nods again, eagerly gripping your hand in his own, tugging you inside of the old plantation house..

This one isn’t very exciting and is sort of long but I hope u like it ! Thanks for the req ! 😳🥰

#thomas brown hewitt x reader #leatherface x reader #texas chainsaw massacre #thomas brown hewitt #slasher x you #slasher x reader #slashers #slasher #red writes #tcm the beginning #thomas hewitt

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handsomelyhiddleston · 3 years

Text

The Nanny - Tom Hiddleston x Curvy Reader - PART 2 (smut)

“How long has this been going on?” Elsa asked, the two of you lounging on the couch while the kids were napping.

“I wasn’t aware anything was going on until yesterday” you answered, blushing as you told Hemsworth’s wife about your plans to stay with Tom over the short break.

“Well, if you ask Chris he’ll tell you he’s always known, but I was the first one to call it.” She gave you a smug look.

“Why didn’t anyone tell me?!” you threw your arms up. “Would have been nice to know I actually had a chance.”

“You didn’t tell me you fancied him!” Elsa laughed. You both heard India start scooting down the stairs one by one.

“Doesn’t everybody?” you smirked, standing to go grab India. “Half the time I’m certain your husband has a crush on him.”

“Oh, he does.” Elsa laughed, following you up the stairs.

You and Elsa got the kids fed and dressed so she could visit Chris with the kids on set.

“You may as well bring your bag now” she suggested. “You can just go home with him when he’s done filming.”

You took a deep breath, thinking through what you should even pack.

“Are you nervous?” she asked, telling India to put her shoes on.

“I’m…I don’t know. This doesn’t feel real.” You laughed, shaking your head.

“I’ve been watching it happen for over a year, Y/n. It’s real. Now, living with someone makes you privy to certain details about each other that you otherwise wouldn’t know…I don’t snoop, but our laundry has crossed paths a few times…so when I tell you to wear the black lace lingerie, take my advice.” She winked, going to put India’s shoes on the correct feet.

When you all arrived at the set, the guys were in the middle of filming. You and Elsa sat back and watched them work through the choreography of a scene for about 20 minutes before a break was called.

“Do you mind watching the boys while I take India over to Chris?” Elsa asked.

“Not at all” you smiled and waved her off. You were sat on a bench and the twins were sat on the floor at your feet, so they could play with their blocks.

When Chris saw Elsa, his face lit up like a child’s. He ran off of the sound stage to meet her halfway. You spotted Tom looking around the room until he made eye contact with you, smiling and waving. When he passed Elsa and Chris, Elsa pulled him into a hug. It was obvious she was talking about you because she literally pointed while Tom ducked his head like they were teasing him. Tom continued towards you, joining you on the bench by the boys.

“How is filming going?” you asked, resting your hand on his thigh.

“Today has actually been a lot of fun” he answered, putting his arm around your shoulders. “I am, however, incredibly sore from all of the choreography. We’ve been shooting fight scenes all day and I think every bit of me has been whacked or stepped on at least once.”

You ran your hand up and down his thigh, looking up at him. “You sound like you need a massage.”

“Are you offering, darling?” Tom’s voice sounded a tad husky and his eyes dropped to your lips for a split second.

“Oh, I would love to get my hands on you” you teased before he dipped down to press a slow, lingering kiss to your lips.

“Come on, boys” Elsa called as she walked towards her twins.

Chris teased the two of you. “Really? In front of the children?”

“Be nice” Elsa scolded him.

“Or what?” he laughed, throwing the boys blocks into their bag and picking up Sasha. Elsa turned and gave him a knowing look. Chris nodded and replied, “Yes ma’am.”

“You are officially off duty” Elsa said, picking Tristan up.

You snuggled into Tom’s side a bit and sighed before hearing him say “I’ll take good care of her, I promise.”

When it was time for Tom to head to the make-up trailer to get out of costume, he grabbed your hand and took you with him. When they removed his wig and handed him make-up wipes, you started pulling out the bobby pins and combing your fingers through his hair. Dragging your nails gently over his scalp had him practically purring in your hands. “Better?”

“That feels amazing” he replied, his eyes shut and the make-up wipes forgotten.

“Finish up” you said, kissing his temple and grabbing the dirty make-up wipes from him to throw them in the trash.

“Eager, are we?” he teased, continuing to remove the stage make-up after the make-up artist left the trailer.

You watched him scrub the last bits of Loki away, a soft fond smile on your face. “For you?” He turned to face you. “Let’s just say I’ve probably been thinking about it a lot longer than you have.”

Tom stood up and threw the rest of the dirty face wipes away. “I wouldn’t be so sure.”

“I don’t know, I think everyone fell in love with you in Thor.” You replied.

“It doesn’t count if I hadn’t met you yet.” He laughed, gathering his things.

Picking up your bag, you turned to leave the trailer. “We met like, what? A year later?”

“That Christmas, actually.” Tom answered, following you out of the trailer. “You had already moved in with Chris and Elsa. She was just starting to really show her baby bump.”

“The party.” You said, nodding in agreement. “I remember. I felt like a massive fangirl when Chris introduced us.”

“Far from it” Tom answered, pulling your bag’s strap off your shoulder to carry your bag. “First, you looked incredible. You had on black and burgundy and I’m certain I spent an inappropriate amount of time looking at your ass.”

You laughed, remembering the dress. You felt like Morticia Addams with more cushion for the pushin’.

“Second, you were so confident. Every other person I met that night just wanted to talk about gossip or getting Botox or they’d ask me to do an impersonation. You asked me questions. Meaningful questions. You actually had opinions of your own when I asked about your favorite writers and films and such.”

You could feel yourself falling more and more the longer he went on. “I didn’t know you had such a high opinion of me.” You said, watching Tom put the bags in his car.

“Admittedly, I should have told you sooner.” He replied, coming around the car to open your door for you. When he climbed into the driver’s seat and buckled up, he continued. “But I am absolutely looking forward to making up for lost time” he said, leaning across the console to kiss you.

You stopped and grabbed food to take back to Tom’s. The two of you ate and had a few beers while lounging on his couch. It all felt very…normal? Comfortable. You were snuggled into his chest listening to him talk about how Hemsworth had broken three separate props today when you remembered what he had said about being sore.

When you went to pull away from Tom, he tightened his arm. “Darling, if you’re standing up to clean up the dinner mess, I will personally see to it that I find some way of punishing you during your stay.” You watched Tom lick his lips as he awaited your reply.

“While I know that I would enjoy every second of whatever you consider punishment, I was actually going to tell you to take your clothes off.” You smirked, watching his lips part and his eyes widen.

You stood and grabbed the trash from dinner, swaying your hips as you walked towards the kitchen trash can. “Hey!” Tom laughed, sitting upright on the couch. “Were you just trying to distract me?”

You walked back in the room with a bottle of lotion in your hands. “Why are you still dressed?” you teased him.

“I’d be at a disadvantage if I were the only one undressed” he replied, slowly unbuttoning his shirt.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get me naked soon enough” you laughed, kneeling by the couch. “Lose the pants and lay down on your stomach.”

“I’m never going to catch up if you keep spoiling me.” Tom stood and unbuttoned his jeans.

“What is that supposed to mean?” you asked, your eyes glued to Tom’s body.

Tom loved that you seemed to get just as distracted by him as he was by you. “Y/n, you’re always the one taking care of everybody. Constantly.” He tossed his jeans to the side, standing in front of your kneeling form.

“Well, isn’t that just the pot calling the kettle black” you said, patting the couch and telling him to lay down. After warming some lotion in your hands, you ran them slowly but firmly up Tom’s back. “Tom, you’re always the first person to help.” Tom moaned, pressing his face into the cushion to quiet the noise. “You are always checking on me or helping with the kids or…”

“Well, I’ve been trying to show you how I feel, but it’s hard when you don’t need anything, and you don’t accept anyone’s help.” Tom interrupted you. “Oh, fuck me” he moaned, turning and laughing into the cushion. You were working on a knot in his muscles near his shoulder and you just got it to loosen up. “It’s really hard to have a serious conversation while you’re eliciting very sexual noises from me.”

“I’m actually enjoying this.” You smirked, starting to work on another knot.

“Well, what I’m trying to say…*moan*…is that I don’t want you feeling like you HAVE to do anything for me…*Oh god, whatever you just did felt amazing*…I want you to feel taken care of too.” Tom’s very heartfelt sentiment was spoken between groans, moans, and swear words.

“Sweetheart, I do things for people because I want to” you said, moving down his back towards his ass. “Just like you do and just like Elsa and Chris do. It’s not a competition. I’m not keeping score.” You were kneading your thumbs into Tom’s hip and thigh muscles.

Tom tried to sneakily adjust his growing issue between himself and the couch, but you saw. With your hands all over him, he was having a hard time not letting his mind wander. “If that’s true then you just have to accept that I want to do things for you too.”

“I think I can allow it.” You started working your way back up his thighs, when he reached back and grabbed one of your hands.

“This feels incredible, but if you keep touching me, I’m just going to get more and more turned on.” He turned to sit on the couch with a throw pillow covering his lap.

“And?” you said, still kneeling by the couch. You ran your hands up Tom’s thighs, your finger teasing at the band of his briefs.

Chucking the pillow to the floor, he leaned forward and pulled you into a rough kiss. “Take your clothes off.”

“Gladly.” You stood, pulling your shirt off and unbuttoning your jeans. Turning around so that Tom got a great view, you bent over and slid your jeans down your legs. When you turned around, you saw Tom palming himself as his eyes took in the black lace bralette and thong.

“Wherever you bought that set…we’re getting more of them.” Tom said, stripping off his last item of clothing before leaning forward and slipping his fingers into the waist of your thong. “You look unbelievably sexy.”

Tom made you feel like a goddess. He dragged your panties down your legs, letting you step out of them. When he leaned back you saw just how endowed Tom was. He saw you lick your lips and smirked.

Leaning back on the couch with his legs spread, Tom patted his thighs and started stroking his manhood. “Come here, gorgeous. That is, if you can handle me.”

While you were slipping out of your bralette, you teased back. “Are you sure you can handle me?”

“Sweetheart, I know that you’re a lot of woman…I know what I’m getting myself into” he said, still admiring your body… “and I am going to lick, touch, or suck every part of you before you leave this apartment.”

Placing your knees on the outside of Tom’s legs, you straddled his lap, letting him pull you into a rough kiss. His hands found their way to your ass, and then your breasts, and then your hips as he pulled you tight against his torso. “There is a condom in that drawer” he pointed to the small table by the couch.

“I’m on birth control…” you said, waiting for his response.

“Then it’s up to you” Tom answered, still wanting you to set that boundary.

You connected your lips in another kiss. “We don’t need it.”

Tom slid his hand between you two and ran the tip of his hardness up and down your dripping slit. “Jesus Christ, Y/n.” Tom brought his wet fingers to his mouth and sucked them clean. “Mmm, so sweet. Glad to know I’ve got you as hot and bothered as you have me.”

You dragged your tongue along Tom’s bottom lip, asking permission to deepen the kiss. When his tongue ran over yours you could taste yourself in the kiss.

“I can’t wait anymore. Please.” You said, your hands roaming Tom’s perfect chest.

Tom pushed into you in one smooth motion, digging his fingers into your hips, “Ride me.”

You put your hands on the back of the couch and started moving, feeling him move his hips in rhythm with you. “Oh, fuck” you moaned, throwing your head back.

Tom buried his face in your chest, sucking love marks into the tender skin there. “God, you feel incredible.”

When Tom shifted a bit and hit your G spot, you could have sworn you saw stars. You grabbed his face and begged him to do it again.

Tom looked cocky, absolutely obsessed with making you fall apart. “Like this?” he said, roughly hitting the same spot a few times in a row.

“Tom!” you moaned his name, your fingers finding their way into his hair as you crashed your lips against his.

Tom could feel you clenching around him, your legs starting to shake. “Can you cum for me, baby?” He was ready to burst, himself.

You couldn’t form words. Your hands moved to your breasts, absentmindedly playing with your nipples as your orgasm built.

“You look luscious, y/n.” Tom gripped your hips, holding you in place as he franticly thrusted into you. “I’m gonna…”

Tom’s snap into overdrive tipped you right over the edge. Your bodies glistened with sweat and Tom’s hair was mussed from your idle hands. As you came down from your temporary highs, Tom kept running his hands up and down your sides, kissing your temple and then your shoulder and then your cheek.

When he pulled out of you, you groaned and tucked your face into his neck.

“Don’t worry, my sweet. There’s plenty more where that came from.” Tom held you against his chest, feeling both of your breathing level back out.

When you thought you could actually move again, you sat up and pulled him into a gentle kiss. “Mmm…thank you.” You said against his lips.

“Let’s go get cleaned up, darling.” Tom held your hands as you stood.

“Lead the way.” You smirked, waiting for Tom to walk ahead of you. When he did, you couldn’t help but smack his amazing ass.

“Is that your way of telling me you want to be spanked?” Tom quipped, grabbing a stack of towels and taking them to the bathroom.

You laughed and then stood there thinking about what he had asked. *mmm Tom’s hands* *I mean, he did tell me he would punish me for cleaning up dinner* *Oh god, thinking about him being rough is turning me on all over again*

You were thinking it through when he popped his head back around the corner. “Might I suggest you have your dirty thoughts in the shower so we don’t run out of hot water.”

You shook your head, ending your daydream and looking at the adorable face staring back at you. You walked towards him, going on your tip-toes to give him a quick kiss. “Spanking is a yes.”

Tom laughed, walking with you to the shower. “We should probably try a bit of everything, if I’m being honest. It’s good to try new things.”

Your eyes went wide. “You only have two days off work.”

Tom pulled you to his chest, under the water. “My sweet, we’ve got the rest of our lives.”

#Tom Hiddleston #Tom Hiddleston x reader #Tom Hiddleston x Curvy reader #Tom Hiddleston Imagine

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homerforsure · 3 years

Text

Whumptober No. 6 Bruises / Touch Starved / Hunger Whumptober No. 30 major character death / left for dead / ghosts

Me: I can’t believe I have to post this absolutely incomprehensible piece of writing.

Me: You don’t... have to?

Me: No, I’m gonna.

Buck has an exceptional number of pillows on his bed. There are six, before he knocks a few to the floor every night, and he burrows into them like a nest, curling up with one against his chest, two pressed against his back, one between his legs. His sheets are a ridiculously priced, cool, crisp cotton that welcomes him in, surrounding him. The blankets he uses aren’t weighted, but they’re heavy and thick and he keeps his air conditioning turned up so he doesn’t have to give up the feeling of nestling into them in the heat of summer. Along with the white noise machine on his night stand, all of it is chosen to trick him into sleep. To keep back the feeling that night time in his own apartment is the loneliest part of Buck’s day.

It wasn’t perfect, pre-covid. It’s been a long time since Buck had someone share his space, share his bed, someone he could reach out and touch whenever he wanted. But his life outside of home was full. He didn’t lack for closeness; in some ways he had more than he’d ever dreamed. So while he had lonely moments, they weren’t a constant ache in his chest.

These months though. These months hurt. Facetime isn’t a substitute for curling up on Maddie’s couch with whatever silly-labeled wine she’d liked best that week. It’s definitely not a substitute for Eddie’s couch and losing to Christopher over and over again at Mario Kart. The last time they talked, Eddie had reached over and ruffled Christopher’s hair and Buck felt it. First as a tingle up the back of his scalp and then as a bruise to his heart. Eddie’s touches, so constant and so casual, became essential somewhere along the way and Buck feels himself reaching out for them even when he knows it’s not allowed.

“Six feet, gentlemen,” Bobby says gently when their orbits swing toward each other and Eddie makes a dramatic show of raising his hands and taking a giant step backward. Bobby just shakes his head and reminds them it’s the price they all agreed to pay for not wearing masks in the firehouse.

Buck starts dreading the end of a call when taking off his heavy turnout coat leaves him feeling cold and exposed. He folds into himself, claiming a chair, putting in earbuds and crossing his arms tight over his chest, pulling his knees up even though he knows better than to put his shoes on the furniture.

It’s a similar position to the one he lies in at night, clinging to the pillows, trying to draw comfort out of the smooth fabric. In those moments, his loneliness is so loud it might as well be a beacon sent out into the universe, a burning shout of need.

And that shout is heard.

***

“Have you guys heard of exploding head syndrome?” Buck asks one morning when the calls are slow and the crew is all lingering in a lazy way rather than rushing off to take care of their other duties.

“What, the band?” Chimney asks.

“I think it was an album,” Bobby says.

“No,” Buck sighs. “It’s a sleep thing. It’s this loud noise that you hear when you’re falling asleep like a massively loud explosion. Only it’s just happening in your head.”

“Is your brain actually exploding? Like an aneurism?”

“No. It’s just the noise.”

Just the loudest noise Buck had ever heard. It woke him up with a feeling of abject terror. It was an explosion that didn’t echo. It just rang, clear and true through his eardrums like the end of the world. Even as he struggled out of his sheets, searching for the source so he could run from it, part of him knew it wasn’t a sound that left any physical evidence. What could it even be? A sound like that? An old fashioned safe dropping from two stories up? A car crash without the crunch? Just a high speed collision of two immovable objects, all of the equal and opposite reaction of their momentum forced to escape as sound.

Once his heart rate had slowed, he googled. He wasn’t initially sure what to google. “Ridiculously loud noise woke me up” seemed at once too vague and too specific but sure enough. Exploding Head Syndrome. It was what happened. Obviously. But Buck remained too full of adrenaline to sleep. As he sat up in bed, he couldn’t shake the urge to look around. Under the bed, in the closet, behind the shower curtain. He didn’t feel alone.

“I’m just glad it’s happening in your head instead of mine,” Chim laughs. “Maybe try putting some earmuffs on before you go to sleep tonight.” ***

The sound doesn’t reappear. Buck is relieved, but sleeping doesn’t get any easier. He tries to soothe himself with obscenely long hot baths, by ordering a hoodie that’s more fluff than fabric, by running a foam roller across his muscles, trying to pry them into relaxation. It’s so much work and it does so little. Buck’s entire body is screaming out at all times for a hug or a massage or even just a really fucking good haircut. It takes longer and longer to fall asleep and the little sleep he does get isn’t restful. It’s like whatever meager comfort he manages to give himself during the day is leached away in the night.

He doesn’t even notice the bruises at first. It’s an easy enough thing to miss. Their job is heavy physical labor and Buck barrels through a scene like a one man stampede. Bruises are as common as the smell of smoke in his hair. The ones Eddie points out on his arm though are different.

Buck’s carrying a kitten at the time. The fire they’ve been fighting is beaten back to smolders. Buck shucked off his coat, wet and dripping from the hose and too cold for the shaking animal, and grabbed a blanket from the ambulance to wrap her up and cradle her against his chest. He’s rubbing his face against her damp fur, feeling the softness like a concentrated shot of endorphins when Eddie asks, “What the hell happened to you?”

“What are you talking about?” Buck asks and Eddie’s hands are pushing up the sleeves of his shirt, rolling them up to his shoulders while Buck’s trying to hold onto the cat.

“You don’t feel that?”

“Feel what?” He’s maybe a little ruder than he means to be but the sleep deprivation makes him cranky and the touch deprivation means that Eddie’s gently probing fingers feel like a dream on his skin. The care in the brush of his hands makes Buck’s knees weak.

“Your arms are bruised to hell,” Eddie says. “Are you- Did someone grab you or something?”

“I swear to god, Eddie. I don’t feel anything.” Except grumpy and exhausted and longing.

“Jesus, it goes all the way up your shoulders. It looks like-” He stops, pulling Buck’s collar aside and tracing a small spot that Buck can’t see even if he turns his head. “They look like fingerprints, Buck. Are you seeing someone?”

“What!”

“These are handprints. And they’re dark. Do you really not-”

Buck wrenches himself from Eddie’s grasp so he can turn around and look at him because if Eddie’s really accusing him of putting everyone at risk by trying to date someone right now… But Eddie’s face is nothing but concerned. Which makes Buck scared.

“Is it really that bad?” he asks, clutching the cat to his chest.

Eddie rubs a hand up Buck’s back (it feels so good, hot like Buck’s t-shirt isn’t even between them and is it just because it’s been so long or just because it’s Eddie?) without looking around to see if Bobby’s watching and that’s really all the confirmation Buck needs. It’s bad.

***

After that, Buck starts to feel them. He wakes up and he can’t breathe. He wakes up and he can’t move. He wakes up on the floor. He spends every moment that he’s asleep fighting to wake up. Buck can only remember fragments and pieces of the torment but he knows that it feels like drowning. Like being held down. Like being grabbed and pulled and smothered. He thinks he remembers long dark hair.

Google is useless. Sleep apnea. Sleep paralysis. Sleep terrors. Even sleepwalking. None of them can account for the worst of it. For the physical signs of whatever is happening to him while he sleeps.

Bruises bloom blue on the pale skin of his hips. Purple on his ribs. Green on the back of his neck. The ones that Eddie saw first on his arm fade to yellow. A long scratch runs down the side of his face. Dark circles under his eyes grow darker every day.

“What’s happening to me?” he asks his reflection.

All he wants is to be able to ask that question with someone’s arms around him. He wants anyone to hold him tight and shush his fears and tell him that it’ll be okay.

It’s easier than he thought to hide it. Buck just chooses his shower times strategically and opts for a long sleeve uniform, complaining that he ruined his short sleeves ones by grabbing bleach instead of detergent while he was half asleep.

He’s always half asleep these days.

At least in the bunk rooms, he gets some semblance of rest. Whatever presence he feels in his own bedroom doesn’t cross this threshold and Buck sleeps deeply, almost missing the scream of the alarm.

“It’s getting worse isn’t it?” Eddie asks, cornering Buck in the locker room. Buck can’t help but nod and Eddie steps closer as if to touch him.

Buck flinches away and Eddie pulls up short as though hitting an invisible wall.

He breathes Buck’s name on a pained exhale and says, “You have to get some help. Whatever it is…”

“I don’t know what it is!’ Buck answers. “It’s living in my house and it- it- God. Maybe I need an exorcism.”

“Maybe you should come home with me,” Eddie suggests and Buck recoils again.

The firehouse seems safe but there’s no guarantee that Buck won’t be followed anywhere else. He’s desperate to be safe--desperate for Eddie to make him safe--but not at the expense of anyone else. Not when he doesn’t know what he’s facing.

“Okay,” Eddie says. “But call me in the morning.”

***

The burned girl screams louder when she sees Buck than she did while they were putting out the inferno of her car.

“Stay away from me!” She shrieks. “Stay awaystayawaystayaway.”

“Miss, we’re going to need you to calm down,” Hen says to her. “Buck, you wanna move aside? Like preferably somewhere she can’t see you?”

Buck does because the patient’s well-being is more important than anything, but his skin feels like ice. He wants to demand to know what else she sees when she looks at him. Wants to know how she knows. For half a second, he imagines following her to the hospital and waiting for her outside the glass doors.

They aren’t far from her house (52% of accidents happen within five miles of home) and the girl’s father arrives on the scene before they finish prepping her to be transported. And he sees Buck.

He freezes when he does, but at least he doesn’t scream. He ignores Buck completely, instead going to the ambulance where his daughter is still crying and trying to soothe her. Hen offers to let him ride in the ambulance, but he says that he’ll take his car.

“You’re in a lot of trouble,” he says, returning to Buck as the ambulance pulls away. “What you summoned… That’s not a normal ghost.”

“I didn’t summon anything! It just happened.” Buck’s voice is high-pitched and he just barely stops himself from grabbing onto the man’s arm, but the man doesn’t seem afraid of Buck the way his daughter was. “What is it? How do I make it go away?”

The man shrugs, “She came in through an open door. Which door depends on the person. But she’ll do everything in her power to keep it pried open. All you can do is try to close it again.”

It is… the least helpful advice Buck’s ever been given in his entire life. But the man’s daughter is on her way to the hospital and he needs to follow her. He vanishes.

***

They’re about to have four days off. Buck’s bracing himself to meet the woman in his dreams. To look around in that dreamspace for open doors and slam them shut again. He can do it. He has to.

***

The next night Buck wakes up and he can’t move. He’s paralyzed on the bed. He’s paralyzed on the bed and someone’s standing at the top of his stairs.

She’s not… right. Buck can’t quite see in the dark and he can’t lift his head but the woman on his stairs isn’t solid in the way a human should be. The outline of her is strong, but it’s like she’s a shell wrapped around a cavernous emptiness. She’s across the room but she’s already pulling at him.

Buck tries to thrash but his arms are pinned as if her hands are already on his wrists. He needs to reach the lamp. If he can just turn on the light.

“Get away from me,” he pleads and the part of her face where lips should be turns up, revealing pointed teeth that stand in front of a void.

“You called me,” she says. The words don’t come from her mouth and Buck doesn’t hear them with his ears. It’s wrong wrong wrong. He throws himself hard to the left and he rolls, flying further than he expected to, suddenly free, and crashes hard into the table, knocking the lamp to the floor. It shatters, bulb and all and pain scrapes across Buck’s shoulders.

“Poor boy,” the ghost mocks. “Poor lonely boy. Just wants someone to touch him. Just wants someone to stay with him. I heard you.”

“No,” Buck says and he tries to scramble, but his feet can’t find purchase on the floor. “I didn’t want you.”

He doesn’t deny the call. Can’t deny it when his heart is reaching out in the same pleading, desperate way now. Please. Anyone.

In the time it takes to blink she’s in front of him. She’s so close. She shouldn’t be able to get that close without standing on him but she’s there. Her voice whispers in his mind, “You should choose your words more carefully.”

And then her hands are around his throat.

The pressure is insistent and her motive is unmistakable. She’s going to kill him. She’s going to squeeze the life out of him. He’s going to die here and Eddie’s going to find his body because Eddie’s going to come rushing over as soon as Buck doesn’t call him in the morning and what if this thing is still here waiting for him.

Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.

Buck’s mind yells for him like his lungs did when Eddie was buried except now it’s Buck who’s too far away, who’s trapped somewhere deep and dark with no hope of escape.

He tries to breathe and his breath whistles. It’s like the first time someone handed him a styrofoam cup of coffee and he tried to drink through the plastic stir stick. Black stars twinkle in the room and tears build in his eyes.

Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.

There’s a shift as she adjusts her grip and it’s enough for the stars to clear. Buck throws himself forward, shaking his head like he isn’t a ragdoll trapped in the jaws of a rottweiler, like he has a hope of breaking free and then he does. The ghost is thrown off balance and Buck jumps, scrambling back over his bed for the stairs. He can’t even think about defeating her, finding out the secrets of where she came from, closing whatever fucking door he left open. All Buck wants to do is live.

A force behind him swells like a wave to lift Buck off his feet and slams him into the bathroom door. He expects to slide off of it and onto the floor, but he’s held in place hard, his head turned and his cheek pressed to the wood, toes just brushing the ground.

“You begged me to come,” the ghost hisses. “I’m here for you, lonely boy. Don’t fight so hard.”

A hand skims up his back, nearly gentle, but leaving a numbness in its path and Buck shudders in disgust. He jerks against the door, but his arms are wrenched behind him and he screams. He realizes it’s the first time he has.

“I didn’t call you! I don’t want you here! Get out.”

“I came because you needed me.” A long finger trails down his cheek and Buck whimpers. She’s taller than him now. Was she always? “I could feel you from so far away. An aching ball of need. I’m here for you now.”

“I don’t need you,” Buck growls and the room flashes like lightning. He hopes to fall, almost expects to fall, where he can scramble again but instead, Buck is hurled away from the door completely. He has time to see that he’s above the stairs, throw his hands out uselessly and then he’s frozen.

Buck hovers there in the air above the stairs, dangling in the grip of the ghost, like a cat grabbed by his scruff. Kicking wildly, he grabs for the invisible hand that’s holding him, yelling “No, no, no, no.”

“Need me now?” the ghost asks.

Smothering the terrified part of him that nearly answers yes, Buck forces himself to stop twisting and just hang there. He doesn’t want to fall. He doesn’t want to die. But what he needs isn’t going to come from the ghost.

“No,” he answers.

And he can’t explain how he knows what her face looks like when it’s screwed up in fury, but he does. It’s vicious and vindictive and Buck’s not surprised at all when he’s flicked away from her and down the flight of stairs.

He seems to hit each one as he falls, something that should be impossible with the speed that he’s traveling and the force with which he bounces off of them, but the ghost is obviously responsible. Air leaves his lungs as his ribs crack against the stairs. His elbows and knees scrape. His head bangs the rail. Buck’s long, long legs seem to tangle as he falls, cartwheeling him down and he lands in a heap at the bottom.

As he tries to figure out if he can still move, the door flies open.

Warmth rushes in. Buck hadn’t even realized how cold it had gotten since he first woke up, but the room seems to thaw around him. It’s like sunlight.

It’s Eddie.

“Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Evan. Buck. I’ve got you, Buck. I’ve got you.”

Tenderly, he scoops Buck off the floor, unsnarling the mess of his limbs and feeling all over for the damage he can’t see. “I’ve got you. Open your eyes. Come on.”

The ghost stands at the top of the stairs and then she’s at the bottom. Buck clambers backward again, digging his heels into the floor to push himself upright in front of Eddie, to try and hide him from view. Eddie doesn’t seem to see the ghost. All of his attention is still on Buck, stroking his hair, promising over and over that he’s there, that he has Buck.

All of the ghost’s attention is on Buck too. “You need me,” she says. “You called for me.” She sounds different now. Bitter. Like Buck wasted her precious time.

“I don’t need you,” he says and he reaches behind him to grab Eddie’s hand. “I already have everything I need.”

Lights flicker and that impossibly loud sound bangs in Buck’s ears again. He gets one last look at the ghost’s vicious, violent visage and then she’s gone.

And then Buck wakes up.

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