#tim x cagney

[trulybetty]

Pause.

Pairing: tim rockford x f!reader Word Count: 1,968 Warnings: 18+ barely edited, no beta so all mistakes are my own - p in v, no contraceptives mentioned or used, but this is an established relationship where this would have previously been discussed, wrap it up folks and practice safe sex! oral, female receiving and a soft tim. Summary: it's tim smut, there's not much more to it than that. but if you want more, tim arrives home after a challenging case goes south and he looks for a release only you can provide.

A/N: this was inspired by this post and I listened to this, this and this on heavy rotation as I wrote it if you're interested in a little soundtrack.

He paused above you, his lips that were seconds ago hungry at your throat had turned to a trail of soft kisses along your jaw before his lips ghosted over to the bridge of your nose before he placed a kiss atop your forehead. 

Your eyes closed you held your breath and bit your lip at the sensation of his cock throbbing inside of you, twitching and filling you entirely.

The kisses continued, soft across your temple as you heard his grunt of restraint. It was all in such a stark contrast to the rough impatience from where things had started in the entryway, up the stairs and into your bed.

He'd arrived home with the slam of the front door.

The house had shook with the the reverberations of his anger.

You'd been halfway up the basement stairs, having been down there digging through boxes for an errant wire for your new recording setup. Racing up the remaining stairs you'd flung the door open to find Tim leaning against the hallway console table, both hands gripping the wooden veneer in a vice that looked threatening to its integrity. 

You only had a moment to notice the tightness across his back before the creak of your bare foot on the wooden floorboards alerted him to your presence. 

His head turned to look at you, the tension in his body so tangible you could almost reach out and touch it.

Pushing himself off the console, his eyes dark, his chest heaving and in three wide strides he crossed the entryway to take your face in his hands, his lips crushed to yours. The box of wires you'd been on your way to your office with fell to the floor to free your hands to grip onto his shoulders to steady yourself. His mouth moved against yours with such a vicious hunger and passion that had shocked you into compliance at his unspoken need to lose himself in you. 

It had been a blur of limbs and lips before Tim had taken command with your hand in his and led you up the stairs to your bedroom.

He had kicked the door open before guiding you backwards. His lips at your neck as he set you down on the bed, never breaking contact until finally, he reluctantly stood. Standing at the end of the bed, his eyes dark, his chest breathing heavily as he looked down at you with an intensity that made you both weak in the knees and clenching your thighs together.

He tugged at the tie at his neck, loosening it before he pulled it undone with one hand, thrown to the floor with no care for where it fell for his eyes still hadn't left yours.

The empty shoulder holsters came next before the slow meticulous process of undoing the buttons on the once crisp ironed white shirt he'd left wearing the day before. The case he'd been working on had him burning the candle at both ends, the night before he'd slept at the office. You'd barely seen the back of his head in the last twenty-four hours and with one quick phone call and a handful of text messages, you could only surmise that his investigation had veered off course. 

The shirt hit the floor and you licked your lips as you watched him finish undressing.

One knee dropped to the bed followed by the other, he crawled over you only to stop at your hips. You watched as his eyes drank you in. Biting your lip at the intensity of his gaze, and shuddered when his fingers teased at the edge of your sweater where it met the waistband of your sweatpants. 

Wordlessly you sat yourself up to allow him to pull it up and off of you, thrown to the floor to join the pile of his own discarded clothing. You let out a small whimper as his hand ran along your now bare sides, over the swell of your hips and with both hands on the waistband he pulled your sweats down your legs as you laid back on the bed once more.

Another piece of clothing for the floor, your sweatpants thrown aside now. He stood back at the end of the bed basking the sight of you. Tim was not one for instant gratification. He was one to savour instead of devour, he took his delight in the finer things. 

He rubbed at his jaw with his hand, you could feel the tension coming off him in waves, his eyes looked distant for a moment before you called his name.

“Tim,” the sound of your voice was velvet balm on the quiet of the room, his hand dropped from his jaw to rub at his chest. 

A small move, but it was his tell, letting you know his mind was at war with himself.

His eyes refocused and he lowered himself back onto the bed as you parted your legs for him. The heat returned to his eyes, his hands settled at your thighs pushing them further apart. He looked up at you, a soft squeeze at the inside of your thighs was his silent ask to which you nodded. Which meant he wasted no time lowering his head between your thighs. 

The warmth of his tongue had you moaning deep in your throat and your feet arching against the bed. 

His fingers pressed into the soft flesh of your thighs holding you in place as your fingers out of reach of him fisted the pillow at your head. Your fingers taunt the coil being stretched inside you, begging for relief at the mercy of Tim's tongue that brings you to the edge and teases a freefall. 

With one long push of his tongue, one that has you gasping for breath as your hips press up against his face. 

Before you can bemoan the loss of his tongue that now swirls around your entrance, coating you in a sweet heat of pressure, he's back again with his tongue darting in and up to your clit. A move in itself that has that coil threatening to snap. But then when joined with his fingers, that move in a symphony together to pull on that coil so much so that it finally snaps and had you crying out Tim's name as his fingers and tongue carry you up and over the edge into sweet oblivion.

The room is a haze and you cry out again at the loss of Tim's fingers and feel the stubble of his beard against the inside of your thigh as he places a kiss there as he looked up at you over the valley of your breasts to watch you catch your breath and continue to clutch at the pillows behind you as the aftershocks roll in with the release that is still in its throws.

Your heart hammering in your chest, you laid breathless before him as he made his way up your body.

Not a curve, not a scar nor a stretch of skin left untouched by his tender kisses by the time his full body was on top of yours. 

Taking his time as he finally made his way back to meet your mouth. 

His kisses were rough in contrast and seeking purchase on your lips, wanting to feel everything that you were feeling. He wanted to lose himself in you, escape everything that the day had brought. 

Finally, he poised himself above you, pushing in slowly inch by inch with a touch that begged for pressure as his cock looked for release against the inner walls of your core. Your breath hitched as he took his time letting your body adjust to his with each passing stroke. 

He whispered against your lips before his lips took yours in another rough and hungry kiss, his tongue mimicking the slow thrusts of his cock.

Caging you in, your arms wrapped around his neck as the two of you found a luxurious rhythm that had the both of you filling the room with your gasps and moans.

There he was, raised above you, the restraint of wanting to just bury himself in you, take what he needed, chase that release, lose himself in you and forget everything and anything with the exception of you and exist just in that moment. To pretend that the world could stop on its axis, if just for that moment, just for it to just be you and him in that room for a little longer.

Dipping his head and pressing a kiss to your forehead, he paused.

The need to have him move, to hit just that spot, to wind the coil back up, pull it tight and bring you back to the edge was at war to allow him to just let himself go. His forehead pressed against yours, you opened your eyes to see his closed tight. Restraint at his lips, pressed together in a tight thin line you reached up and traced the dark circles under his eyes. He turned his face instinctively into your palm, a kiss at the heel of your hand.

“It's okay Tim,” you spoke, your voice a quiet hush, “It's okay.”

He took one last moment to savour you, unable to restrain himself any longer, the delay in gratification at its limit he began to drive into you. Deep, hard thrusts, your body rising and falling with each movement, his hands at your hips anchoring you as he let out a low growl at the chase of release that only you could bring.

Your hands scrambled to hold onto him, your breath coming in quick gasps. He gave a languid stroke of your calf as you wrapped your legs around him; nails scratching against his back, his hips, anywhere you tried to hold on a little longer as he pushed into you, again and again until you felt his cock throbbing inside of you as he came with a roar that seemed to shake the walls around you. 

Pushing himself into you one last time, his lips against yours as he groaned the rest of his release into your mouth. 

He finally collapsed on top of you panting heavily against your shoulder. With both hands, your fingers sunk into his curls, usually neat, were unruly and damp with sweat. Both of you spent, hearts pounding, both struggling to catch your breath.

In the quiet of the room, he stayed still, only reaching out his hand to intertwine with the fingers of the one hand that had released his hair, clinging on to you, afraid if he let go you'd be gone and he'd be left with the realities of the day alone.

Moments passed, and the only sound that filled the room was the sound of his laboured breathing and your soft whispers in his ear that spoke in volumes of love, understanding, reassurance and safety. You felt his chest heave as he took in a deep breath, as if it was just what he needed to hear to know that everything was going to be okay.

It's there where you both found solace; a safe haven away from all the chaos and worry of life outside. You continued to whisper calming words of reassurance and nuzzled against his temple allowing your breath to settle in time with his own.

A heavy exhale and a quiet “I love you,” from you, before he lifted his head, a haunted smile on his face as he looked into your eyes. 

It's there in those moments that allowed for peace to wash over the both of you, even if it was for just a little while longer until life reared its ugly head again in the morning.

That reality could wait a little longer.

[tawaifeddiediaz]

I posted 3,389 times in 2021

653 posts created (19%)

2736 posts reblogged (81%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 4.2 posts.

I added 3,380 tags in 2021

#for the queue of it - 1192 posts

#911 spoilers - 661 posts

#eddie diaz - 385 posts

#evan buckley - 317 posts

#zee answers - 232 posts

#buddie - 200 posts

#zee rambles - 127 posts

#fic rec - 98 posts

#bucky barnes - 92 posts

#buck x eddie - 76 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#i don’t even know if this makes sense but the idea of buck not getting to touch eddie and reassure himself that he’s okay after the last tim

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

@tylerhunklin and I put this together by screeching at the discord but:

That little thing Buck does where he hangs up, looks at his phone, smiles, bites his lip, smiles again and looks down????

Ya know where he’s done that?

With Abby and Ali. 

That’s all your honor.

474 notes • Posted 2021-02-02 03:47:43 GMT

#4

us: wanted pain, angst, healing arcs

5x01 synopsis: athena revisits trauma, eddie suffers health scare, maddie’s ppd worsens

us:

514 notes • Posted 2021-09-09 17:19:29 GMT

#3

buck and eddie: true crime geniuses, cagney and lacey, spend all their free time solving mysteries, fight each other on cold case files

also buck and eddie:

712 notes • Posted 2021-02-10 17:02:01 GMT

#2

buck: i’m leaving

eddie: no you’re not. eat your lunch.

buck: no I’m not

768 notes • Posted 2021-10-19 01:04:47 GMT

#1

Josh: the whole city has been hacked

Eddie:

1211 notes • Posted 2021-08-26 17:19:42 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[class-wom]

Tagged by both @haslemere and @mossomness.  So time to go after two birds with one stone! 😁

Okay, here goes...((drumroll))

RULES: answer the following questions! You can only use each movie once:

Favorite movie:      Erm...okay, Casablanca.

Movie that makes you remember your childhood: Ehhhh...Peter Pan. (This “Use only one movie and only once”-thing could pose a problem! Bwahaha!)

Favorite tom hanks movie:  You’ve Got Mail. (Yes, this was previously chosen, lol, but I couldn’t agree more!)

Movie that makes you cry: Well, tbh, I’m not much of a crier when I watch movies, but I’ll go with Sleepless in Seattle.

Favorite 80’s movie:     Back to the Future

Favorite comedy:     Ghostbusters.  The original -- I love quoting it randomly and even prefer it to the sequel!!!

Favorite sports movie:     Chariots of Fire

Favorite war movie:    Sergeant York

Favorite animated movie:  Oh, crap...okay, let’s go with Pinocchio.

Favorite horror movie: Ho-boy, this isn’t exactly a genre to my liking, tbh.  But what the heck, I’ll go with The Guest! 😁

Most overrated movie:    The Conversation.  (Although it was kind of fun to see that it had influenced at least one S1-ep of The X-Files!)

Favorite gangster movie: White Heat.  Mindful that I would go with at least one James Cagney classic for this one, I’m convinced that Tim Burton and Jack Nicholson were more than a little influenced by Cagney’s performance in general and (SPOILER ALERT!!!) the final scene in particular with regard to the 1989 version of Batman and the Joker.

Movie you can watch over and over: Cas-oh, crap.  Okay, The Wizard of Oz.

Movie with the best soundtrack: Ben-Hur

Most embarrassing movie you love: Man of Steel.

Favorite Christmas movie: It’s a Wonderful Life...but boy would I love to list The Man Who Invented Christmas as a runner-up!!!

Favorite sequel:    Um...Jaws 2, I guess?  Not as good as the original, as they say, but you can definitely feel and root for the teens in peril by the inevitable showdown.  (Hey, for a movie about a shark, that’s not exactly a spoiler, let’s face it! 😂)

 Okay, let’s see:  Might be some double-tags, lol, but I’m going with @mademoiseli, @versaphile, @cinemaocd, @autisticmoonchild, and anyone else willing to jump in may!

[unkindnessofone]

5SOS. Monday, Monday, Monday

He didn't have an expansive enough vocabulary at the age of four to properly recite how cheesed off he was, so March Hemmings let his body do the talking while strapped into his car seat in the back seat of his Dad's car. One of them. He pouted beneath his small grey wayfarer sunglasses, his pink bottom lip giving off it's best Elvis Presley impersonation, while his arms were open wide and fallen at both his sides. One reached for the empty car seat on the other side of the car that usually held his twin brother, Miles, and the other was just reaching for the car floor with nothing, but despair to offer. He kicked his small black Velcro shoes with the mightiest force they could offer and let his head fall back. March had stopped blubbering on about how he didn't want to go to the music store with his Dad, but Luke was still drowning out the littlest Hemmings with the sound of the Beastie Boys biggest hits from way back when. It didn't occur to him that one day March would get in trouble at daycare for reciting random lines from the song 'Girls'.

As his Dad pulled a horribly tight turn into the parking lot of his favorite store in the middle of a nothing special strip mall, March squished his two unhappy lips together. He waited until his Dad had parked and turned off the loud music before he started to whine again.

“Why can't I...be...” He breathed in between the words, giving him an extra second to think of which one came next. “home with mum?” It wasn't meant to be a smack at his Dad, but March had learned by this point that his Dad was his disciplinarian. He was in trouble when he was with his Dad and he had to behave and be quiet when he was with his Dad. When he was with his Mom, he could jump on hotel beds and get Popsicle drippings all over his shirt collar.

“You weren't cooperating.” As he unhooked himself out from behind his seat belt, Luke turned in the driver's seat to explain to his son, who looked just like him  (only pint sized) as they wore matching sunglasses. Luke had already explained everything to March three times: once on the way to the car, once while buckling up to into his seat belt, and again while pulling out of the driveway. Cagney was trying to tidy the house before her parents flew in to stay with them, much to Luke's disappointment, so she had the kids occupied with separate tasks. Penelope was cleaning up her disaster zone of a bedroom and the twins were supposed to be sitting in the sun room either playing nicely or watching Ice Age. March had decided climbing on top of tables and pretending to be a very violet police man was more fun. While Luke held the shouting boy under his arm and against his ribs, he offered to just hire a cleaning service for the house, but Cagney retorted through clenched teeth that she could get it all done with Luke just took March with him while running errands.

“We're going to go inside,” Luke began to explain, snapping to keep March's attention on him as it threatened to drift to the ceiling of the car. “you're not going to touch anything and you're going to behave, okay?”

Usually, if he was with his mother, this was the moment where March would try to cut a deal for himself and his brother. He would ask what the chances for a McDonald's ice cream sundae were if they were really good, but he knew better than to work that game on his Dad. It never worked in his favor and usually resulted in a look that only ever led him to bed early. As much as he really didn't want to, March nodded in agreement.

“Good. I know you can do it, bud.” Luke tried to be reassuring. Cagney told him all the time to be patient with March that he was just cut a little more jagged than his siblings. Underneath all the screaming and karate kicking, he was a soft kid who hated being in trouble. Luke figured if he wasn't already feeling stressed about his in-laws visiting that he would be better. He would be swinging around on the play structure with his youngest and seeing who had the better dinosaur roar.

“I hate the music store.” March shared with his Dad through a pout as Luke came around to him, helping him with his car seat buckles. “I don't want to go.” For a moment, he forgot about the promise he made to behave himself.

“Too bad, bud.” This was Luke's treat and he had been looking forward to it for a long time. His guitar collection was extensive to say the least and he hadn't added to it in a year, but he made a promise to himself and to his wife that if he could make it to Penelope's first day of pre-school without any more recreational drugs than he could order himself a 1964 Fender Stratocaster, just like the one Bob Dylan used when making the transition out of folk music. He had lusted after one since he was a teen and every time he missed party drugs or even just a hit of a joint, he would go on the internet with a Nicotine patch on and Google his dream instrument. Penelope was in grade one now, he had gone beyond his original goal, but he couldn't just celebrate with any old 1964 Fender. It had to be the right one. He searched with the same kind of dedication he used when looking for a double stroller for the twins. It had to have everything on the wish list. It couldn't just 'do the trick', it had to be the trick. Today was the day, he was going to meet his new baby for the first time, hold it with care in his arms, and see how she played. Luke was pretty sure he was going to name her Delphine, but he had to wait til he saw her in the flesh. March and his grumpy mood were not going to ruin this occasion for him.

Luke pulled his kid out from the car, closed the door with his hip, and then settled March on the ground. Out of habit, March reached for his dad's hand. They were in a parking lot and that was the rule.

“Hey!” Laughing merrily as soon as they entered the shop, walking through a hallway of wall to wall guitars, Luke greeted a very familiar face. “What's up?” He reached for the employee's hand, his smile illuminating the entire spot. His mouth could have been used to plug in an amplifier, Luke was buzzing suddenly.

“We're all very excited.” The place was occupied by talented musicians, but also deep music nerds. When Luke put his order in through them, the place had been on 'Fender Watch' as they called it, waiting for the priceless beauty to arrive.

“God, us too.” Luke shared as he followed the employee known as Otto in. “Well, me. March couldn't give a shit.” He spoke thoughtlessly and then corrected himself to 'damn'. Luckily, March wasn't listening. He was not even taking in the different colour and styles of guitars around him. It looked like his life as he had grown up on his Dad's tour bus or in studios. As they made their way to the back room, sound proofed for moments like this, they passed a room of pianos and then another one for percussion instruments, but March might as well have been in prison. He held his Dad's calloused hand and stifled his temper tantrum inside. Luke noted that his son looked like a clinically depressed four year old and, for a moment, he considered waiting til tomorrow to pick up his guitar. Still, he continued leading his kid deeper into the store.

Once in the room, Luke toyed with the amp nearby, setting it up properly while Otto went to fetch his order. He had placed March in a chair by the window, but didn't scold him when he stood up on it, peering out the window that was allowing bright light to pour in. Out in the parking lot, a group of teenagers were rolling around on skateboards and trying to use the sidewalks edge for tricks. March was fascinated. While Luke was occupied, he kept his peripheral vision sharp enough to make sure his kid didn't slip right off of the chair. As long as he wasn't causing a scene or lying on the floor in the shape of the letter 'X', Luke was happy.

He would never say it to his friends, especially not Ashton, and he would certainly never share it with his wife, but playing his new guitar for the first time felt just as wonderful and wild as the birth of his children. It was something he worked for, waited for, and sometimes thought he wasn't going to make, and once it made the first sound, his building anxiety left and made room for relief and joy. His heart was beating fast inside his chest, but firm as his fingers fiddled with strings. The only thing Luke would change was March. He wished his son would turn and pay attention, he wanted him to be interested in what was going on so he could share something he loved dearly with his youngest, but March had climbed into the window sill somewhat carefully and was still watching the teenagers outside. He had his knees tucked up to his chin as he marvelled at their attempts to land a rail stand. The music in the background was just static and noise to the kid who had been attending concerts since his third month on Earth.

“Yeah, she's gorgeous.” Luke finally stopped wailing on the guitar, jamming along with another employee who had plugged in a different and far less superior axe. “Pack her up.” He handed his guitar, now christened Bianca. He moved out of the room to join his friend at the counter, needing to watch his new guitar as she was packed up for him, but Luke made sure to glance behind him every now and again to keep an eye on March. He had never seen the kid so well behaved when they were out in public except for the one time when he had a brutal cold and was just falling asleep all over the Tim Hortons they were grabbing breakfast in.

“Hey March,” He whistled at his kid from outside of the room. “Let's go.” He had the guitar case hanging by his knee as he waited for March to emerge, running at full force. Instead, Luke was greeted by nothing, just a little light laughter from the two guys behind the counter. Luke furrowed up his face and went back into the room he had just been playing in. March was still tucked in the window sill, his legs now stretched out before him as he pretended his hand was a skateboard riding over them. “March, I said let's go.” He moved closer to his kid while speaking to him with strength in his voice. It wasn't until he was reaching for March's hand to help him down that he noted what March was so hypnotized by. “You think they're pretty cool?”

March only nodded, not interested in looking away for a single second.

“Let's go. We got what we came for.” Luke spoke simply to his boy as he patted his knee, a signal he was using to get him moving. He knew back at home that Cagney would want a hand whether it was just with vacuuming or moving furniture around completely in a desperate attempt to impress others. Luke had told her not to invite everyone and their significant over for a dinner on the first night they were in. He knew it would drive her crazy, but she had still gone ahead and made a guest list of fourteen adults and eight children and that was not including any of the Hemmings family, immediate and or extended that were also coming.

Luke turned down his music when he noted through his mirror that March had fallen asleep in his  car seat. They were stuck in traffic, rush hour on a Monday, and it made the fifteen minute drive twice as long. With the volume low enough, Luke could hear March's soft stirring. It wasn't quite a snore, but it wasn't a peaceful slumber either. It was a lot how he sounded when he slept when he was younger before his snoring really grew out of control. Luke was concentrating on March when a loud honk that went on longer than most shook him out of his gaze. It even woke March up in a panic. The little boy shot up with his blue eyes and looked from side to side with fear presented honestly on his face.

“Sorry, bud. It's okay. Just an angry driver.” Luke half-lied. He wasn't about to tell his son that he had made a mistake on the road or was too busy staring at the cuddly face in the backseat that he didn't notice the lights change. “You okay?”

March only yawned and nodded as his response, leaning back into his cushioned seat. He pulled down his sunglasses from the top of his head and put them over his eyes as if that would cancel out the surprising sounds. Luke was just about over the bridge that would lead him right to his gated community, the custom home that he and Cagney dreamed of together, when he decided to just keep driving. March didn't know enough about the world around him to not realize they weren't going the right way. He was playing with the loose strings from his green shirt and not looking around at the window he could barely see out anyway. It wasn't until the car stopped that he stretched his neck and peered out another brick building, not his house – his personal play castle.

“We've got one more stop to make. Come on, bud.” Luke shrugged like it was nothing, picking his cell phone up from the change holder by his stick shift. He pushed open the door smoothly, but didn't slam it in time. He caught just the beginning of his son's sleepy or annoyed sigh.

Still holding his father's hand tightly once they were inside, March took in the room. There wasn't a guitar in sight even though his dad's newest single was playing from the speakers around the room. March didn't know what to make of the place, so he pushed he kept his sunglasses on to keep himself safe and just waited for Luke to tell him what to do.

“Hey, uh....” Feeling a bit out of place himself, Luke stopped the first greasy haired kid that passed by him even though his hands were full with an open box. “Can I get someone's assistance?” He asked feeling very much his age and not younger like he usually did. Luke hadn't ever felt like a cool kid growing up and being surrounded by teenagers that looked like the ones who annoyed him in school made him feel very uncomfortable. March let go of his dad's hand once he had heard the voice he was using. It was deeper than usual, but sounded firm like the one he used before picking him up and carrying him down a hotel hallway to bed.

The messy teen, stoned out of his mind, directed Luke and March to a small bench in the room and called over a pink haired girl that looked strangely just like a girl Michael dated right before he met Grace. It made Luke feel very uncomfortable.

“What are you in for?” She asked Luke, but only looked at March. Grinning at how cute the little boy was, his head on a swivel as he took in all the contents of the place. “Nice glasses.”

“Thank you.” March mumbled, standing up for a moment before Luke pulled him back down onto the bench.

“He is getting his first skateboard today. We really don't know what we need.” Luke didn't want to be taken advantage of, but he had enough confidence in himself that a bunch of high school kids couldn't bleed him dry.  They already had knee pads and helmets at home with their bikes in the shed, but Luke assumed there would be other must have items that would make his wife feel better about their youngest and craziest playing on a board with wheels.

March's brows lifted so quickly that his sunglasses fell off and onto the floor in front of Luke. This was a most pleasant surprise for the four year old.

“I'll be right back with a couple suggestions.” The girl moved past them going deeper into the store. They didn't have a lot of kid's boards, but she knew she could find one or two.

“You were awesome today. I know you didn't want to come with me, but you were really great and I appreciate it.” Luke leaned his head down and shared with March, nodding at him and explaining what was going on. In his mind, Luke saw this day as a milestone for both of them. He had accomplished something that seemed impossible and rewarded himself with a guitar, something he longed for. It might have been on a smaller scale, but for March, sitting still and being quiet was as hard as quitting a bad habit was for Luke. The kid deserved something nice that he wanted too. “I’m proud of you.” Quietly, he shared.

“I get a board?!” March stared at Luke's chest excitedly, his teeth tight together and his hands out in front of him, ready to clap.

“Yeah, we're getting a skateboard.”

“Yeah!!!” At the top of his lungs, something like a small lion might release, March roared and jumped to his feet in order to properly celebrate by bouncing with his arms above his head. “I'm going to sit still forever!” Fumbling over his pie in the sky promise, March proclaimed. Luke laughed at the declaration and shook his head.

“That would be worth bouncing over.” Luke chuckled and took his son by the hips to pull him back onto the bench. He was surprised when March's arms were wrapped around his neck, pulling him down to his height.

“I love it, Dad.” He said into his ear like a secret he wasn't trying his best to keep.

“We haven't even got it yet.” Patting his son's back, Luke chuckled.

“But I'm going to love it and I'm going tell 'Nel-o-pee that she can't touch it, no....” He ranted with a head shake before letting go of his Dad's neck and allowing him to sit up straight again. The girl was mere steps away from them now. “Thank you, Dad. I love it.” March said again, not knowing he was making Luke feel better than picking up his new guitar or being sober.

[vampireadamooc]

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Direct Links to A-P (August 4th 2017)

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Al Capone Animal Mutilation Ali Hasan Al-Majid Al-Tikriti (Chemical Ali) Albert Anastasia ACLU Aristotle Onassis American Friends Service Committee Aryan Nation Anna Nicole Smith Anthony Blunt Alfred Kinsey Abner Zwillman Albert Einstein Anthony Spilotro ABSCAM Arthur Flegenheimer (Dutch Schultz) Alcatraz Escape Alcoholics Anonymous Al Gore, Sr. Amerithrax Anwar Nasser Aulaqi Amelia Boynton Abbie Hoffman Adolf Hitler Asian American Political Alliance Amelia Mary Earhart Andrew Phillip Cunanan Anthony Salerno All American Anti Imperialist League American Nazi Party Arthur Rudolph Aryan Brotherhood Atlanta Child Murders Aryan Circle Almighty Latin Kings Abe Fortas Arthur R. "Doc" Barker Arnold Palmer Armando Florez Ibarra Alvin Francis Karpis Attempted Assassination of President Ronald Reagan Alger Hiss Ariel Sharon Art Modell

Black September Bertolt Brecht Billy Carter Bishop Fulton Sheen Bonus March Barker-Karpis Gang Summary Bloods and Crips Gang Bonnie and Clyde Black Dahlia (Elizabeth Short) Basque Intelligence Service Bugsy Siegel Bayard Rustin Benjamin Hooks Benjamin Crowninshield Bradlee Black Guerilla Family Black Mafia Family Bernard Baruch Black Panther Party BOMBROB Betty Shabazz Bureau Aviation Regulations Policy Directive and Policy Guide Bernard Julius Otto Kuehn Bettie Page Billy Martin Barker/Karpis Gang

Caryl Chessman Cardinal Francis Spellman Cambridge Five Spy Ring Carmine John Persico, Jr. Custodial Detention Clyde A. Tolson Clark Gable Charles Manson Council on Foreign Relations Charles Lindbergh Clarence Smith (aka 13x) Clarence Darrow Carl Sagan Carmine Galante Conference Cost Reporting and Approvals to Use Nonfederal Facilities Policy Directive 0927D Charlie Chaplin Casey Kasem Cartha DeLoach Christopher (Biggie Smalls) Wallace Charles "Chuck" Wendell Colson Contract for Assistance Regarding Syed Farooks iPhone Charlie Wilson Courtney Allen Evans Claudia Johnson Carlo Gambino Christic Institute Cesar Chavez Clergy and Laity Concerned about Vietnam Charles Rebozo Charles Kettering Claudia Jones Christian Identity Movement Carl Sandburg Charles (Sonny) Liston Columbine High School Criminal Profiling Coretta Scott King Charles Arthur (Pretty Boy) Floyd Custodial Detention Headquarters Carlos Fuentes COINTELPRO Custodial Detention Security Index

Danny Kaye David Koresh Daily Worker Dinah Shore Dorothy Dandridge Duquesne Spy Ring Director Comey Letter to Congress Dated October 28, 2016 Diversity and Inclusion Program Policy Guide Policy Directive 0842D Daniel David "Dan" Rostenkowski Daniel Inouye Daniel Schorr Demonstrations against Lyndon B. Johnson Desi Arnaz Diana, Princess of Wales D. Milton Ladd Dr. Samuel Sheppard Dwight David "Ike" Eisenhower Director Comey Letter to Congress Dated November 6, 2016 David Hahn Debbie Reynolds David Howell Petraeus Daniel Patrick Moynihan D. B. Cooper

Erich Fromm Emmett Till E. B. (William) Dubois Extra-Sensory Perception Eliot Ness Electronic Recordkeeping Certification Policy Guide 0800PG Edward Irving "Ed" Koch Elizabeth Taylor Everette Hunt Edward Abbey Elizabeth Arden Edward Kennedy (Duke) Ellington Elvis Presley Eugene McCarthy Eddie Cantor Eleanor Roosevelt Evelyn Frechette Eric Wright (Eazy-E, EZ E) El Rukns Elijah Muhammad Ernest Hemingway Eugene “Gene” Curran Kelly Explanation of Exemptions

FBI Miami Shooting, April 11, 1986 Frances Perkins Fred Hampton Frank Capone FBI History Francis Gary Powers Frank Sinatra FBI Technical Surveillance Countermeasures Classification Guide Fred W. Phelps, Sr FBI Ethics and Integrity Program Policy Directive Policy Guide FBI Student Programs Policy Guide 0805 PG Fannie Lou Hammer Frank Rosenthal FBI Domestic Investigations and Operations Guide (DIOG) FBI Undercover Operations FBI Terrorist Photo Album Five Percenters Frank Wortman FBI Use of Global Positioning System (GPS) Tracking Frank Malina FDPS FBI Sign Language Interpreting and Reading Program 0889D FBI Seal Name Initials and Special Agent Gold Badge 0625D FOIA DISCLAIMER Fidel Castro Freedom Riders FBI Assistance Provided to Local Law Enforcement During the Black Lives Matter Movement FBI Recreational Association(s) 0465D FOIA Requests Containing the Word Trump Fritz Julius Kuhn Fred G. Randaccio Fred C. Trump

George (Bugs) Moran Greenlease Kidnapping George (Machine Gun) Kelly Groucho Marx Guy Hottel Gov. Edmund Gerald (Pat) Brown, Sr. Gene Siskel German American Federation/Bund Geraldine Ferraro Gangster Disciples Grace Kelly Greenpeace George Jackson Brigade Guantanamo (GTMO) George Burns George Lester Jackson General Douglas MacArthur General Telecommunications Policy 0862D George S. Patton, Jr. Gay Activist Alliance Ghost Stories: Russian Foreign Intelligence Service (SVR) Illegals Gamergate Gregory Scarpa, Sr George Orson Welles George Steinbrenner

Hugo Black Henry Louis (H.L.) Mencken Henry A Wallace Herbert Khaury (Tiny Tim) Highlander Folk School Hanns Eisler Henry Miller Howard Zinn Huey Percy Newton HEARNAP Honoraria Policy 0867D Herman Barker Harold Glasser Hubert H. Humphrey Helen Keller Harland David "Colonel" Sanders Hindenburg Harry S. Truman Hillary R. Clinton Howard Robard Hughes, Jr

Interpol Irgun Zvai Leumi Irving Berlin Impersonation of Bhumibol Adulyadej Imperial Gangsters I Was a Communist for the FBI (Motion Picture) Irwin Allen Ginsberg Ian Fleming Irving Resnick

Jack Soble Jefferson Airplane Jack Benny Jack the Ripper Jesse James James Cagney John F. Kennedy Jr. John Murtha Joseph Aiuppa Jonestown (RYMUR) Summary Joseph Lash John Ehrlichman John L. Lewis John (Jake the Barber) Factor Joseph P. (Joe) Kennedy, Sr. John Steinbeck John Arthur (Jack) Johnson Janis Joplin Jimmy Hoffa Jessica Mitford Jeffrey Lionel Dahmer Jack Anderson John Wilkes Booth Joe Paterno Jay David Whittaker Chambers John Joseph Gotti, Jr James Marshall "Jimi" Hendrix James Baldwin Joseph Losey John Siegenthaler Jeannette Rankin Jack Roosevelt Robinson Judith Coplon James Joseph Brown John Wayne (Marion Robert Morrison) Jerry Garcia Jane Addams John Chancellor John Wayne Gacy Jack Roosevelt (Jackie) Robinson John D. Rockefeller, III John Dillinger John (Handsome Johnny) Roselli John Profumo (Bowtie) J. Edgar Hoover Julius and Ethel Rosenberg J. Edgar Hoover Appointment and Phone Logs Jesse Helms Jonestown J. Edgar Hoover Official and Confidential (O&C) Files Joe Louis Joan Alexandra Rivers Jack Dempsey John Denver James Farmer James McDougal John Updike Jerry Heller Josephine Baker Joseph Paul "Joe" DiMaggio John Winston Lennon

Kent State Katherine Oppenheimer Kent State Shooting Ken Eto Kansas City Massacre Kiss

Lady Bird Johnson Louis Allen Leander Perez, Sr. Legal Handbook for FBI Special Agents Louis (Lepke) Buchalter Liberace Lyndon B. Johnson Laboratory Reference Firearms Collection Policy LD0020D Louie Louie (The Song) Louis Francis Costello Lucia Stepp Lewis F. Powell, Jr. Lillie Belle Allen League of Women Voters Lillian (Lily) Hellman Lester Joseph Gillis (Baby Face Nelson) Lenny Bruce Lucille Ball Luis Buñuel Louis Terkel Langston Hughes Leonid Ilyich Brezhnev Leon Trotsky Leonard Bernstein Lloyd William Barker

Marilyn Monroe Motion Picture Copyright Infringement Mississippi Burning (MIBURN) Case Michael (Mike) Royko Martin Luther King, Jr. Melvin Purvis Malcolm X Muriel Rukeyser Marilyn Sheppard Madalyn Murray OHair Mack Charles Parker Mexican Mafia Mafia Monograph Morris and Lona Cohen Medgar Evers Moorish Science Temple of America Mary Jo Kopechne (Chappaquiddick) Majestic 12 Marian Anderson Michael Jackson Machine Gun Kelly Murray Humphreys Michael Hastings Michael Whitney Straight Melvin Belli Marvin Gaye Marlene Dietrich Malcolm Little (Malcolm X) Meir Kahane Mario Savio Mohammed Khalifa MAOP Margaret H. Thatcher Myron Leon "Mike" Wallace Miami Boys Mario M. Cuomo Muammar Qadhafi Mattachine Society Meyer Lansky Mickey Mantle MIOG Mark Felt Martin Dies, Jr. Muhammad Ali Marcus Garvey

Nikola Tesla Norman Mailer Neil Armstrong National Rifle Association (NRA) New Alliance Party Nuestra Familia National Security Letters (NSL) National States Rights Party NAACP National Investigations Committee on Aerial Phenomena (NICAP) National Organization for Women (NOW) Nation of Islam Nelson Mandela National Gang Threat Assessment Next Generation Identification Monthly Fact Sheets Non-Retaliation for Reporting Compliance Risks Naming and Commemorating FBI Buildings and Spaces 0910D

Osage Indian Murders Owen Lattimore OKBOMB Original Knights of the KKK

Pearl Buck People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals (PETA) President Richard Nixon's FBI Application Purple Gang (aka Sugar House Gang) Project Blue Book (UFO) Philip Ochs Protests in Baltimore, Maryland, 2015 Pablo Escobar Patriot Act Paul Harvey Paul Robeson, Sr. Pulse Nightclub Shooting Personal Services Contracts Policy Directive 0957D Percy Sutton Pentagon Spy Case Policy: Custodial Interrogation for Public Safety Policy Directive 0481D Physical Fitness Program Policy Directive and Policy Guide 0676PG

[gvreamer]

2017 Movie list

Star Wars Rogue One - everybody dies, but the rebels get hope. Princess Leia lives!

Manchester by the Sea - heartbreaking portrait of a man crushed by loss and unable to do more than sleepwalk through a meaningless existence. When he inherits guardianship of his teenage nephew, the stereotypical healing and recovery does not ensue, but life becomes a little less meaningless. Moana - More Disney gold. A strong, independent teenage princess determined to be true to herself and become a good leader is wrapped up in the gorgeous trappings of Lin-Manuel Miranda’s infectious music, rap and drums.

Night and Day - Cary Grant miscast as Cole Porter, but charming to the last

Hidden Figures - three women bring dignity and determination to fighting racism and segregation at NASA

Fences - Broadway dream cast brings August Wilson’s masterpiece to the screen. A fascination counterpoint to Hidden Figures, with women who are forging ahead to the future instead of staying trapped in the past with the Troys of the 1950s. Father Goose - A favorite classic comedy because of its witty writing and fabulous chemistry between stars Cary Grant and Leslie Caron, as well as the tropical location. Much quoted in our house: “My coconut is empty. ” Captain Fantastic - In spite of a lack of character development in the script, Viggo Mortenson manages to create a rich and sympathetic character who isolates his six children from the evils of society and engages them in rigorous physical and intellectual training. A crisis brings them back to society and tests the strength of family ties. One, Two, Three - a family favorite vintage film that gets watched at least once a year James Cagney came out of retirement to create a compelling performance in this fast-paced Cold War farce. Logan - it is all about Sir Patrick Stewart and his indelible portrayal of Professor X in the final installment if the Hugh Jackman Wolverine franchise. Too gory and violent, especially with the kids in it, but great bad guys. Ex Machina - science fiction about AI developing emotions and independence is a rehash of Star Trek’s Requiem for Methusala, which was an adaptation of Shakespeare’s The Tempest. But great CG effects for the android. Why We Fight - documentary about the history and psychology of warfare is fascinating and well researched, although not long enough to cover the entire topic. Grand Day In - loving documentary about the people and history of Aardman animation. Kedi - beautiful documentary about the cats of Istanbul and the people devoted to caring the the community kitties. Cinematography from the cat'a point of view is unforgettable. Proof - Gwyneth Paltrow and Hope Davis are the perfect sisters, similar but opposite, to play the daughters of a math genius gone but still haunting the house. Ghostbusters 2016 - the female remake of the comedy classic lacks the snappy dialogue and chemistry among the cast of the original. Best part about it is the music, with several updated versions of the catchy theme song. All About Eve - A friend recently gave me an autographed picture of a young Bette Davis, and that reminded me of her best picture. It has several distinctions such as being tied for most Oscar nominations at 14 with Titanic and La La Land. It also was one of just five films that had two nominations for best actress, but neither she nor Anne Baxter won. An incredible portrait of the addiction of fame. Bridge of Spies - Tim Hanks is the sensible glue that holds together the far-flung true events of this Cold War spy thriller. The Paper Chase - It’s all about the indelible performance of John Houseman as the quintessential gruff professor, but ultimately is unsatisfying as he never learns that his daughter is in love with one of his promising law students. Crossfire Hurricane - compelling interviews under early film clips of the rising Rolling Stones. Finding Nemo - this story never gets old. Just keep swimming! The Three Musketeers, 1974 - this viewing was part of our project to see if favorite films from our youth hold up over time. Michael York is just as yummy as I remember, and the French Court just as sumptuous, but the frivolity has dimmed a bit with time. So fun to see Christopher Lee's bad-guy persona through the lens of the Ring trilogy.

[jaeame-blog]

iPhone X, iPhone 8 and iPhone 8 Plus launch LIVE: Apple to unveil most expensive iPhone yet at September 2017 event | iPhone 8

The iPhone 8, iPhone 8 Plus, and iPhone X launch event is just a few hours away, where Apple CEO Tim Cook will take the stage to unveil the next-generation iPhones. Apple will launch its latest range of devices today at one of its biggest launch events in years. The iPhone 8 will be unveiled today at 10am PT / 6pm BST, with Apple CEO Tim Cook hosting a special launch event from the Steve Jobs Theater at Apple Park. Along with iPhone, the company will also launch a new campus called the Apple Park.

Customers who try to visit the site reach a blank page with the message: "We'll be back. "We're busy updating the Apple Store for you. While it's possible analysts are simply waiting to increase their stock targets after they've seen the event Tuesday, it's also highly likely that they've already priced in the iPhone 8. Smartphone giant Apple is all set to launch the new iPhone in its September 12 event at the Steve Jobs Theater.The CEO of Social Finance, Mike Cagney, is stepping down. Additionally, the iPhone maker is expected to unveil new emojis based on users' expressions.

We expect Apple to take the covers off a number of handsets, along with a new smartwatch and possibly a new Apple TV as well. To watch Apple's iPhone 8 announcement, you can tune into the live-stream here.Apple will unveil three new iPhones later today: The iPhone X, iPhone 8 and iPhone 8 Plus. The new iPhone model will run on the all new iOS 11 that Apple had rolled-out at the World Wide Developers Conference in June. The Apple Store is always shut down before the launch of a major new product. Apple has taken its store offline ahead of today's iPhone 8 launch event as of 4am PT / 12pm BST today. Is there anything to discuss in techland this morning other than the Apple iPhone launch in Cupertino, Calif.? Well, sure. The wait for the iPhone 8 is almost over, with Apple expected to reveal an entirely new smartphone line-up at a major event today. Apple has already taken down the online Apple Store in anticipation of new products. "We'll be back. The new iPhone has not even been unveiled yet, but that hasn't deterred one iPhone super fan from already getting in line for one. New iPhone 8 launch event LIVE - all the news and updates as Apple releases latest devices.

[trulybetty]

dec' x 25 x family

Prompt: family Pairing: tim x reader Word Count: 1,245 Warnings: family christmas dinners, interfering family, talk about children, one cute baby and Tim making my ovaries explode, just fluff. Summary: Your second annual Christmas dinner with the Rockfords. AO3: Linked

x. masterlist

“Wait! Nell, where are you going?”

Tim’s sister brushed him off, already across the room as she gave him reassurance, “You’ll be fine Tim, I’ll be right back!”

Before Tim could protest any further his sister was gone and out of the room and he swore she didn’t even look back. Sighing he looked down at his tiny niece, Emma. Barely three months old, her matching deep brown eyes to his looking back at him as she sucked away at her pacifier.

You stood at the threshold of the living room, a smile tugging at your lips. It was your second christmas with the Rockford family. Last year had been about you getting acquainted with his family after the two of you had been dating for a good year and a half. This year was a little different, you were now officially a member of the family as decreed by Tim’s father, and to top things off, the arrival of the newest member of the family, baby Emma. 

As usual, Tim’s parents' house was decked out in festive decor, including the tree twinkling in the corner with an obscene amount of presents piled beneath it. The air was thick with the smell of not one but two turkeys still being cooked. A testament to the number of family members that filled the house.

Tim shot you a look that was part exasperation and half a plea for help.

“Uncle Tim’s got the magic touch, huh?” you teased.

“She won’t settle for anyone else,” he said, his voice a mix of both resignation and pride. “Nell is convinced I’m a baby whisperer.”

You moved closer, smiling down at the tiny baby and reaching out gently to adjust the little cap that adorned her head, “Maybe you are.”

“You’re not too overwhelmed, are you?” Tim asked, concern flickering in his eyes. “I know my family can be a lot to handle.”

“Are you kidding?” you responded with a chuckle. “This is great, your family is a hoot.”

“You say this now.”

“Tim, if I didn’t go running when your Uncle Tom cornered me last year with his long-winded conspiracy theories, I think I can handle anything your family throws at me.”

Tim relaxed a little and you moved even closer, your arm brushing against his. He leaned into you, the two of you watching Emma sleep. 

“Do you ever think about changing your mind? About kids, I mean,” he asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

You took a sip of your wine giving him a side glance, “Nope, I’m still good.”

“You sure?” he asked, a playful eyebrow cocked as if this hadn’t been a topic of discussion the two of you hadn’t already agreed on multiple times.

Looking down at Tim’s niece you felt your heart flutter in warmth at the sight of the child who you had already been referred to multiple times as aunt to, but it stirred no maternal need for one of your own.

“I’m good,” you smiled, “she is lovely though.”

Tim's gaze softened as he looked down at his niece. “Yeah, she is,” he admitted. 

Tim’s parents, true to their traditional roots, had always spoken fondly of grandkids if either of their children chose to have them. The arrival of Tim’s niece had been a highlight of their year, and the joy was palpable in the household across the extended family. 

“Cagney, dear,” Tim’s aunt Shirley called out from the dining room, his family had quickly adopted his nickname for you much to your amusement. “When will we see you with one of these?”

You glanced at Tim, who was already preparing his ‘let’s not start this conversation’ face. You squeezed his shoulder reassuringly and before you could open your mouth, Tim’s mother, Maggie, walked in from the kitchen.

“Shirley,” she chided, “leave them be, not everyone needs to have kids,” she ushered her sister to follow her back to the kitchen, “anyway, aren’t your kids taking care of it enough for the rest of us? What is it now, six grandkids? I’ve lost count.”

“Seven,” Shirley exclaimed, “and number eight on the way!”

Maggie rolled her eyes behind her sister's back at you and Tim, both of you staving off a laugh as she led her sister out of the room, the two of them bickering as they went.

Around you, the house was filled with the sounds of a close family Christmas. The chatter of distant relatives in the dining room discussing the latest football scores, the clink of cutlery as the table was being set, and above it all, the faint strains of holiday music playing in the background.

You looked around at the photographs on the mantelpiece, snapshots of Tim's life before you. There was one of him in his police academy uniform, young and perhaps a bit naive about what the future held for him.

Tim’s previous marriage was a topic rarely broached. It was a closed and sealed chapter. He had been fresh and naive out of the police academy he’d told you, late one night as the two of you laid in the quiet of what had once been his home, now your home too. The marriage had dissolved as quickly as it had begun—his workload was too much, and they wanted different things, soon realizing they both had incompatible dreams for their future. It wasn't the right match no matter how hard he tried to make it work. 

But with you, it was different. You complemented each other, your strengths and weaknesses meshing in a way that felt effortless. A silent understanding of each other's needs, and a mutual respect for the lives you'd chosen to lead. 

You turned back to Tim, only to find him watching you, his gaze lingering on your face with an affection that didn’t need words. The baby, who decided the only place to settle now was laid across Tim’s forearm, her head in the palm of his large hand tucked against his chest, had dozed off. Her little chest rising and falling with each peaceful breath.

Before anything could be said, shouts from the dining room confirmed that the food was ready.

As dinner was being served, it became clear that Tim's niece was not going to allow herself to be put down, or taken from her uncle's arms. Nell, already overwhelmed and upset that her husband was at work—a paramedic and couldn't get out of the holiday shift—had looked like she was on the verge of tears.

“Go eat,” Tim told her gently, a softness in his eyes that you knew he reserved for the few he cared deeply about. “I've got her. We'll be fine.”

His sister gave him a grateful smile before taking a seat at the table. Tim adjusted the baby in his arms, as you pulled out your chair next to him with your foot, a plate of food in each hand for the both of you.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of food, laughter, and the occasional group ‘aw’ when Emma would stretch and yawn. Insisting Tim sit and enjoy the company of his family, knowing how much he missed it with his work scheduled, you helped where you could, bringing dishes from the table, pouring wine, washing dishes and sharing in the toasts. 

Then every so often you’d catch Tim’s eye from across the room, him giving you a wink, a private moment amidst the chaos.

[trulybetty]

dec' x 05 - music

Prompt: music Pairing: tim rockford x gn!reader (tim x cagney) Word Count: 555 Warnings: mention of alcohol, nothing but more fluff - which is the theme for the month it seems! Summary: Christmas morning with Tim 🎄 the song playing is Sam Cooke ' Bring it On Home to Me' - which is one of my favourite songs ever and I think would be a favourite of Tim's too! AO3: Linked

x. masterlist

“I can’t believe this! How did you even find it?” Tim exclaimed as he inspected the vinyl’s paper-thin delicate sleeve. 

It was Christmas morning and you’d managed to drag Tim from your bed downstairs to the living room. Neither one of you was hugely fussed on the festivities of the season, but would always exchange gifts over hot coffee with a generous pouring of Baileys.

“I did have to pull in some favours.” You smiled, watching his eyes light up, “but I think it’s safe to say it was worth it.”

“Jesus Cags,” he breathed as he pulled the record out and delicately placed the sleeve up and out of the way, “this, this is something else. This is an original pressing?” he asked looking up at you for confirmation and you nodded, “Jesus, I don’t know what to say.”

You watched him inspect it again, turning it delicately in his hands, in awe that you would go to the trouble of getting him something so rare and so thoughtful. 

He jumped up from the floor to the record player on the other side of the room. Carefully placing the vinyl on the turntable, the anticipation in his movements almost palpable. As the needle dropped and the warm, crackling tones of Sam Cooke's voice filled the room, Tim's face broke into a broad grin.

“You know,” he began, his voice animated with excitement, “so many people have covered this, but nobody even touches the original.”

Walking back Tim reached out his hand to you, you took his hand and allowed him to pull you to your feet his hands finding your waist as the soulful melody wrapped around you both.

As he pulled you into a slow dance, the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you there in the glow of the Christmas lights, with the gentle snowfall as your backdrop. Tim hummed along to the music, leading you in a gentle sway across the living room floor.

Tim's voice grew softer, almost reverent, as he softly sang some of the lyrics into your ear as he pulled you closer.

“If you ever change your mind, about leaving, leaving me behind…”

The warmth of his breath against your ear, he continued, his voice barely above a whisper.

“That ain't all, that ain't all I'll do for you…”

“And what would you do for me handsome?” You inquired as his one hand slipped further around your waist to pull you tighter to him, while the other held your hand, fingers interlaced leading you in a soft sway.

Tim's eyes twinkled with a mix of mischief and affection, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. 

“Well,” he said, matching the rhythm of the song with each step, “I’d start with saying thank you, and this.”

His sway paused, allowing his hand to lift your chin and tilt your head towards him. His gaze brimmed with love and adoration, those chocolate eyes that always felt like home. You felt your breath hitch in your throat as he leaned in to capture your lips in a soft, slow kiss. His lips parted, deepening the kiss and you melted into him, your body pressed tightly against his and neither one of you paid much attention as the record player came to a stop.

[trulybetty]

25 x rainday | tim x reader

prompt: rainday pairing: tim rockford x reader word count: 453 notes: torrential rain, smoking, maybe tim x cagney back in their days before they were a couple and before cagney had the podcast, I'll let you decide! summary: tim offers to share his umbrella with you

x. masterlist

The downtown LA county courthouse steps were slick with rain. The rain had been relentless, record-breaking, for the last four days. The downpour turned the concrete into a canvas of puddles that reflected the dreary sky above.

Tim stood under the meager shelter of the overhang, a cigarette pinched between his fingers, watching as water streamed off the edges in constant rivulets. He lifted his collar against the chill, smoke mingling with the misty rain.

That was when you emerged through the heavy courthouse doors, paperwork tucked under your arm, a look of determination on your face which quickly turned to dismay at the sight of the deluge before you. You’d had a ride into the courthouse earlier that day, but now you were on your own in the realization that you’d left your umbrella in the office.

You let out a groan, resigning yourself to a soaked walk back to the office.

“Forgot your umbrella?” Tim called out over the drumming rain, the tease not lost on his voice.

You gave him a wry smile. “I wasn't expecting the end of days to still be taking place,” you retorted, stepping beside him and looking out at the downpour. You could already feel the moisture seeping into your clothes.

With a sharp intake of nicotine and a flick, Tim's cigarette was lost to the puddles, as he stepped forward, opening the large black umbrella he had tucked under his arm. “Come here,” he beckoned, “I'll share. Can't have you looking like a drowned rat.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh as you stepped under his umbrella, “Such a gentleman Rockford,” you teased, tucking your arm through his as you both descended the steps.

Tim shrugged, a playful spark in his eyes. “I do my best. Speaking of which, how about grabbing some pizza? I think it’s my turn isn’t it?”

It was a familiar dance, the two of you seeking each other's company, whether over case files or a slice of pizza.

“That's a hard offer to pass up,” you admitted, smiling at him. “Lead the way, Detective.”

The two of you navigated the crowded sidewalk, dodging other pedestrians scrambling to stay dry. As you reached the street corner, waiting for the light to change, you nudged him with your elbow. “So, does this mean I get to call you my Valentine since you're not only sharing your umbrella with me but buying me dinner too?”

The blush that crept onto Tim's cheeks was lost to you in the rush to cross the street as the lights changed. His mumbled, “Sure, why not,” was nearly drowned out by the sound of the rain pelting the umbrella and the soundscape of the city around you.

[trulybetty]

dec' x 30 - silence

Prompt: silence Pairing: tim rockford x reader Word Count: 855 Warnings: true crime references, smoking, Christmas traditions, playing fast and loose with facts to make this work Summary: it's a frosty night when you think you hear Tim arrive home, only to met with silence. AO3: Linked

x. masterlist

You padded down the stairs convinced you’d heard the door unlock. You’d paused at your desk, one AirPod out of your ear straining to hear the familiar sounds of Tim emptying the contents of his pockets on the hallway console, but silence filled your ears.

A tentative step off the last of the staircase into further quietude had the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end. Instinct told you to call out Tim’s name. But three years of true crime podcasting and a decade before that in law had your voice caught in the back of your throat.

Stepping further into the hallway, a cold chill whisked around you, eliciting a shiver. It was minus something fierce outside, meaning none of the windows should be open.

Which meant only one thing. 

Turning on your heel in the direction of the kitchen you saw him. Well, you saw the lit end of the cigarette he was smoking first. The glow illuminated through the glass of the sliding doors that let out to the modest deck. 

Grabbing your thick knitted cardigan that you’d left hanging on the back of the kitchen chair, you crossed the now chilled tile floor, pausing only to slip on your shoes reserved for pottering around the garden, and slid the back door open. 

He exhaled smoke and tapped the end of the cigarette before speaking, “I thought you’d be asleep.”

“I was editing.”

While an easy silence fell between you, you could feel the tension coming off of him in waves. 

“Rough day?”

He exhaled a cloud of smoke out of the corner of his mouth and away from you.

“If you can call it that.”

“Talk to me,” you urged, stepping closer, watching as another puff of smoke curled into the night air, mingling with the frost that hung heavy.

He flicked the cigarette, sending a spray of embers cascading to the ground, a stark contrast against the snow. “Just the usual,” he said, but the way he avoided your gaze told you it was anything but usual.

The silence stretched, filled only by the distant sound of a car passing on the street and the occasional rustle of the wind. You wrapped your cardigan tighter around yourself, stepping closer to him and with the hand that wasn’t holding the lit cigarette, he pulled you against him. While he may not have had the words to say it, he was grateful for your presence. 

“Tell me about the case you’re working on for this week's episode,” he said, before you heard him take another drag of his cigarette.

You wrapped your arms around his waist, nuzzling your head against his chest, “It’s about this year's Kentucky Derby.”

“Equine true crime now?” you could hear the smirk in his voice.

“Keeping it light for the holidays,” you responded with a jab to his side, earning you a small laugh and kiss to the top of your head, “there’s been an update on the theft of the purse.”

“Wasn’t it like three mill or something?”

You nodded, “Yup, but it never was missing.”

“No?”

“Nope, seemed like it was just a cover for a more interesting theft. The entire collection of past Derby Trophies, all fifty of them.”

“How does no one notice a whole collection go missing?” Tim asked, and you heard another intake of breath from his cigarette.

“Fakes,” you yawned, the crisp fresh air filling your lungs, “they only noticed this week that the entire collection had been switched out. 18-karat gold and raw material alone running at ninety thousand dollars a pop.” 

Tim let out a low whistle, “How much is that alone?”

“Four point five mill for the material alone, and that’s nothing on the value in trade for its worth on the collectors market. Pales in comparison to the pitiful three million purse they were running around after.”

Another silence fell between the two of you, taking in the silence of the night that surrounded you. Punctuated only by sounds of far-off traffic and the sway of the tree branches from the neighbours' yard. The chill in the air told you that snow would soon be on its way.

“I have something else that might lighten the mood,” you ventured, a small smile playing on your lips despite the sombre atmosphere.

Tim turned, an eyebrow raised in a silent question.

You gave him a wide grin, “Two words, matching pj’s.”

It caught him off guard, and a small, reluctant smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Matching pyjamas? Really Cagney? You know how I feel about that.”

You chuckled, knowing full well how much he secretly enjoyed the silly tradition you had started since your first Christmas together. “But you love it. Admit it, it's the highlight of your festive season.”

He hung his head reluctantly not wanting to admit that he found the tradition endearing. He stubbed out the remainder of his cigarette. 

You reached out, taking his hand and pulling him back toward the warmth of the house. “Come on, let's go get warm and I'll show you this year's selection.”

[trulybetty]

22 x carousel | tim x reader

prompt: carousel pairing: tim rockford x reader word count: 614 notes: true crime talk, nothing explicit, technically this is tim x cagney, but is written neutral & you don't need to know much about the two to enjoy this summary: you need help from tim for a special valentine's project

x. masterlist

You hopped onto the bed and in a swift move that had you impressed with your own prowess you straddled yourself over Tim’s thighs disrupting his reading.

“If you wanted my attention,” he remarked, removing his glasses and using them as a bookmark for the page he was reading, “you could have simply asked.”

You leant forward and kissed the tip of his nose, “Now where would the fun be in that?”

Tim sighed as he turned to drop his book on the side table, “What do you want?”

You cocked your head to the side, the cheshire grin unavoidable on your face as much as you failed to mask it, “What do you mean?”

Tim ran his hands over your thighs giving you a knowing look, “You only court my attention like this when you want one of two things Cags,” he leant back against the headboard, his hands behind his head, “Sex. Or, given the look on your face, a case you’re researching that you want my help on.”

Rolling your eyes at Tim's astute observation, even though your face was currently an open book, there was no denying the man’s intuition and detective skills. He had always had the ability to see through your facade, no matter how hard you tried to maintain it.

“So what’s the case?” Tim continued, a pointed looked telling you he knew already what it was you were after as soon as you came into the room.

You gave him a wide grin, “The Valentine Carousel Massacre.” 

Tim rolled his eyes as he rolled you off of him, “Eurgh, not the mob stuff Cagney.” 

“I’m with you,” you agreed looking up at him from where you’d landed on the other side of the bed, “not my favourite, but we live in Boston Tim, hard to ignore this stuff.” 

Tim got up from the bed, “Go on, you’ve got ten minutes before the hockey starts,” he stated as he grabbed the TV remote from the dresser.

You scrambled to sit back on your heels, poised with your questions for the detective. 

“You know the basics, right? The Valentine Day Carousel Massacre, a mob hit that went sideways at the height of the mobs' influence here in Boston.”

Tim nodded, a little reluctantly, “Yeah, I know the one.”

“Well, for the podcast, I’m doing a special episode on Valentine's Day, and I thought—”

“Hold on,” Tim interrupted, “You want to talk about a mob massacre on Valentine’s Day? That’s your idea of a theme?” he asked, a frown creasing his forehead.

“It’s compelling. I just need your insight on a few key points.”

“You want my insight on why it’s fascinating, or the case itself?” Tim asked, looking at you with a raised eyebrow.

“Both?” you gave him a big smile, “please?” 

Tim, now standing with the remote in hand, looked less than thrilled. “Why would anyone want to listen to something like this on Valentine's Day?” 

“Well,” you replied, “because it's got everything—crime, history, tragedy, the psychology behind it all.”

He shook his head, his expression softening into a resigned smile. “Well, I know you'd want to know about this, but you're the exception,” he said.

“I think my listeners will really enjoy the extra insight,” before he could even speak, you already knew what he was about to say and interrupted him, “As usual, I won't disclose your identity or where my information came from.”

Tim sighed, resigned now to the fact that the next ten minutes would be spent discussing one of the darker aspects of Boston's history. “Alright, ask away. But after that, we’re watching the game and no more talk of massacres, agreed?”

[trulybetty]

just in my Tim Rockford feels this morning... don't mind me...

[trulybetty]

For the WIP tag game, what can you tell me about Belgium??

🦛💕

Lellen! ❤️ Sat on this one, since the idea you gave me involving Tim & Cagney on this one has been brewing in the back of my mind!

@maggiemayhemnj, asked about the same WIP, so I've decided to join these two ask's together as I'm running out of material to share on this one not expecting so much interest lol.

So thanks to @gnpwdrnwhiskey this one now is in the realm of Tim and Cagney (reader) and what they're doing in Belgium, I haven't quite decided yet - still up in the air. But for now, here's a little visual inspo I'm working with...

Thank you both for playing and asking! Sorry for the delay! 💕 xx

[trulybetty]

wip wednesday | part II

The lovely Becca @sin-djarin tagged me for 'WIP Wednesday', so let's throw out an actual snippet from a future December x 500 one-shot, and because it's Becca, let's go with Tim 😋❤️

You stood at the threshold of the living room, a smile tugging at your lips. It was your second christmas with the Rockford family. Last year had been about you getting acquainted with his family after the two of you had been dating for a good year and a half. This year was a little different, you were now officially a member of the family as decreed by Tim’s father, and to top things off, the arrival of the newest member of the family.  As usual, Tim’s parents' house was decked out in festive decor, including the tree twinkling in the corner with an obscene amount of presents piled beneath it. The air was thick with the smell of not one but two turkeys still being cooked. A testament to the number of family members that filled the house. Tim shot you a look that was part exasperation and half a plea for help.

I tagged some mutuals earlier, and since it's late in the day I don't know who's been tagged and who hasn't been. So consider this your tag to share your WIP and if you post, tag me in to check it out!

[trulybetty]

First sentence: He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

Have fun! 💛

He couldn't believe what he was seeing, “This,” he managed to stutter out, “this is for me?”

You nodded coyly, toying with the thin gold chain that lay around your neck.

A grin broke across his face as he tugged at the tie around his neck which came undone and loose in his hands in three easy tugs and with three easy strides he stood in front of you.

Your breath caught at the back of your throat at the sudden closeness, you could feel the heat of his body radiating against yours, the intensity in his eyes reflecting a mixture of surprise and deep appreciation.

Tim leaned in, his whisper warm against your ear, “You never cease to amaze me, Cagney.”

first sentence game, ask away!