#tommy begins snippets

[setmeatopthepyre]

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[@118dailydrabble day 1] [part of my tommy begins snippets]

Tommy Kinard does not keep skeletons in closets, but he does keep their ghosts in the back of his sock drawer: his dog tags, a house key, an engraved lighter.

To this day, he doesn't know how Eli had managed it. Only remembers how he'd pressed its familiar weight into Tommy's hand as they'd stood side by side in their dress blues. How tracing the words had kept his hands from shaking.

B.E. to bad habits T.K.

He'd found the probie smoking on the roof after his first bad call. It became their thing for each one after.

Now, Tommy tries to remember only the friendly flame that lit their shared cigarettes, and not the inferno that had followed.

[wolvesofinnistrad]

Buck is so fucking tired. Its been months, months trapped in this godforsaken day.

Hes tried everything to get out, he tried making up with his exes (except Tommy), hes tried talking to everyone he knows (except Tommy), hes even tried many implausible and at times downright stupid things (only half of those were based on ideas from Chimney and Eddie.)

Today was a break day. Hed needed a few to recover after his last attempt. At least the airtime had been nice for a few seconds before the pain cut straight to the next day. No strategizing either, not that he was getting much of anywhere since he had to remind whoever he was with that day, (usually Eddie, sometimes Hen or Chim, occassionally Maddie, rarely anyone else after the first few times) of every scheme hed already tried.

No today he was doing the only mildly interesting part of this living prison, exploring the city. He'd found a new farmer's market, went to the beach, and now he was stopping to get coffee.

As he exited the building he ran directly into someone, spilling his coffee all over himself. The burn honestly didnt much phase him anymore. Not after day 87 anyway. Still.

"Dang, watch it man," he said, none of the usual fawning apologies he'd have given before the loop.

"No it was my... fault," came a voice he knew so well yet hadnt heard in almsot a year now.

Well, for him almsot a year, for Tommy Kinnard standing in front of him it was only like 2 months.

"Oh this is fucking great," he said to himself before pulling out his phone. "Hildy make a not not to come here next loop I'm not doing this again," he said as he turned and started to walk away.

Then a hand grabbed his wrist and tugged, he tried to wrench his arm away but Tommy was just as strong as he was.

"Evan, what did you just say?"

Buck shook himself loose after another jolt of his arm before looking at Tommy. It still hurt, fuck it did, but he had worse things to deal with. "Don't worry about it Tommy. You don't ever have to worry about me again, you made that clear." Again hes about to turn away when Tommy calls out to him.

"Are you in a time loop?"

That was a new record. Chim had been the fastest to ever get it at 2 hours. Slowly he turned around, despite his better judgment.

"Considering you won't rmemeber this tomorrow, and we wont see each other, yes Tommy Ive been stuck in a time loop for months now. Its getting pretty fucking old actually." Despite the fact he was definitely being a bit bitchy, Tommys face was doing some confusing journey between surprise, relief and then happiness. By the time he stopped talking the man seemed to be vibrating before he pounced, hugging Buck so hard he thought he might crack a rib.

As much as Buck might have missed this, he was pretty fucking confused. "To-mmy..."

Tommy let go, pulling back and laughing a bit hysterically. "Evan," oh, his name sounded so good on Tommys tongue how had he forgotten "i thought i was going crazy."

"What?"

Tommy shook his head. "I mean, i didnt believe it at first. Obviously you know my skepticism, even after the Billy Boils thing." Tommy gave him a softer smile then. "But after a while, and a few different trips to the hospital it became clear there wasnt anything physically wrong with me, which meant either i was crazy, or, well, I was stuck in a time loop."

Buck stood there staring at the man he'd once been on the cusp of loving, of spending forever with, and realized they were both stuck, potentially forever, in a single day.

"I cant believe this... have you met anyone else thats on the loop?"

Tommy shook his head again, glancing around before motioning for them to take a seat outside the cafe. He grabbed some napkins, giving them to Buck to wipe at his stained shirt.

"No. Ive talked to a few people, Lucy, Sal, even Howie a few different times but never even considered someone else might be stuck too."

Buck dabbed at his shirt with little actual concern. He was more focused on this trippy development. "And youve tried to get out?"

"Oh boy, yes, tried doing everything right, doing nothing, tried talking to my dad even, that was a big mistake." His head tilted to the side in that way Buck remembered fondly, when Tommy was trying to dodge the severity of something he didnt want to admit hurt. "Heck I even called Abby thinking maybe i needed to apologize or something but... nothing." He held out his empty hands and shrugged.

Buck couldnt help what came out next. "Didnt call to apologize to me. And Id know, considering im also in the loop."

Tommy didnt say anything for a long moment until. "I thought about it. So many times. Talked myself out of it. Didnt think it was right to only contact you to try to free myself."

"Self sacrificing idiot," Buck said, tossing a balled up napkin at his chest.

"Guilty as charged."

That admission actually made Buck smile for the first time. "Dang, only took you a full blown time loop to admit it huh?"

Tommy laughed. "Groundhog day hell has humbled me I guessm"

Buck quirked an eyebrow. "What does any of this have to do with a holiday about a rodent predicting the weather?"

Tommy looked surprised, the expression soon melting into a sort of shocked amusement. "Ill explain it to you later. Looks like we've got the time. A lot of it actually."

"Yeah, I guess we do." Buck looked at him, and it still hurt, but there was camaraderie there, stuck in the same situation with only one person that understood. For the first time since the breakup he felt like things were starting to make sense again. And maybe, just maybe, if they could find a way to move past this day... well maybe they could find a way to move past their own problems too.

[wikiangela]

tease tidbit tuesday/wip wednesday

tagged by @thewolvesof1998 @theotherbuckley @tizniz @diazsdimples @dangerpronebuddie @spotsandsocks @exhuastedpigeon @underwaterninja13 - tagging y'all back for wip wednesday 💖💖

doing two in one bc it's technically wednesday already idc lol - started a new wip I mentioned before (inspired by this video lol) and rn I'm rewriting what I wrote yesterday bc the past two days words were not wording and I hated everything I wrote, but I think I'm happy with it now haha I hope I'll manage to write it like I want to bc it's sooo good in my head istg haha

(wasn't gonna post until i have more but i need validation before i drive myself crazy over this lol)

___

It started as a random idea, more like a throwaway thought, really. Tommy was just checking the weather for the next few days �� his hot pilot boyfriend always likes to be prepared – while they were hanging out, and he casually mentioned that “it’s gonna be nice on Saturday, perfect barbecue weather,” which got Buck to mention how they often have family barbecues at Bobby and Athena’s. Somehow, the conversation spiraled, and Buck’s not sure who threw out a more concrete idea, but here they are now, standing side by side in Tommy’s kitchen, preparing food – Buck’s currently slicing veggies for a salad, while Tommy takes care of the meat – for the barbecue where they invited way too many people than Tommy’s backyard can probably fit. It really is nice weather, the sliding door leading from the kitchen to the backyard open and letting in warm sunshine and a soft breeze that makes the air feel cooler. They work in pleasant silence, the only sound is quiet music playing from the speaker, and Buck can’t help a fond smile when he hears his boyfriend hum along, so off-key Buck’s not sure he even knows the song, but it’s still adorable.

The silence is disrupted by the doorbell ringing, and before Tommy can even move, Buck is dropping the knife on the cutting board, wiping his hands, and sprinting towards the door, shouting an “I got it!” over his shoulder. He’s followed by an echo of Tommy’s fondly amused chuckles. So he’s a little excited, sue him – they haven’t had a family day like this in a while, and there was only one he brought Tommy to, all of their schedules not so easy to align. And today his whole family will be here, including their spouses and children, and Tommy invited a couple of his friends and their families, too, and it’ll be just a big, loud, chaotic get-together that he’s hosting with his boyfriend. Buck never hosted one of these before, and he’s really enjoying it so far, and he just wants everyone to have fun.

___

no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @thebravebitch @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @watchyourbuck

@eowon @loserdiaz @evanbegins @ladydorian05 @wildlife4life

@diazpatcher @lover-of-mine @monsterrae1 @weewootruck @loveyouanyway

@spagheddiediaz @rainbow-nerdss @epicbuddieficrecs @pirrusstuff @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove

@nmcggg @rogerzsteven @hippolotamus @bidisasterevankinard @giddyupbuck

@sunshinediaz @honestlydarkprincess @911-on-abc @jesuisici33 @steadfastsaturnsrings

@buddieswhvre @fortheloveofbuddie @your-catfish-friend

@daffi-990 @hoodie-buck @aroeddiediaz

[theastrophysicistnextdoor]

The Ineffable Detective Agency presents: Decoding 1941 Hell – The Hidden Morse Messages

The Good Omens team never fails to surprise us: In the Hell scenes set in 1941, there are subtle beeps in the background that many might have missed: morse code messages! 

We took the time to decode these messages from about 5 minutes of the show – some parts are easy to identify, some parts are really hard due to overlying sounds or noises. 

We used the 5.1 audio and selected only the channel with the morse signals. Check out an easy snippet – which line is it? :)

Then, we applied high- and low-pass filters to emphasize the code’s pitch around 1360 Hz. Some of us have pretty sharp ears, some of us worked with the frequency spectra to mark short and long signals as well as pauses in between. 

Here is what we have heard or seen, together with some facts and thoughts on the lines. Let us know what you think!

S2E4 06:19 to 08:23 “Have a miserable eternity”

Here are the pieces we have successfully decoded: 

HAVE A DREADFUL ETERNITY

We are wondering why this is different to the text via loudspeaker as well as Furfur’s “have a miserable eternity”...

TOMMY’S A LEGEND

Do we know a Tommy?

1) There's the Welsh magician/comedian Tommy Cooper (his magical act specialized in magic tricks that appeared to fail), who was the inspiration for the red fez in the magic shop. Cooper died live on television suffering a heart attack. :(

2) There's also the lead character Tommy in Brigadoon, the plot of which feels seriously GO-coded. There is a magic village hidden outside time that only appears in Scotland once every 100 years and is connected to the rest of the world with a bridge, outsiders who find "clues about the village and its people that make no sense", and a plot about unlikely lovers who are separated (because one "can't just leave everything in the real world behind"), and an ending that reunites the lovers against all odds because of the strength of their love ("I told ye, if you love someone deeply enough, anything is possible ... even miracles.")

PAUL’S OUR MIXING HERO

Could that be the Re-Recording Mixer PAUL McFADDEN?

ABANDON ALL HOPE YE WHO ENTER HERE CHEER UP IT’S ONLY ETERNAL DAMNATION ABANDON ALL HOPE YE WHO ENTER HERE CHEER UP IT’S ONLY ETERNAL DAMNATION ABANDON ALL HOPE YE WHO ENTER HERE CHEER UP IT’S ONLY ETERNAL DAMNATION ABAN

The phrase "Abandon all hope, ye who enter here" is a quote from Dante’s Inferno, Prelude to Hell, Canto III, Vestibule of Hell: Dante passes through the gate of Hell, which bears an inscription ending with the phrase "Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch'intrate". So, the minisode is THE place where we get quotes from the two most famous literary accounts of Hell – with Furfur's quotation of Paradise Lost in the dressing room at the Windmill Theater: "In dubious battle on the Plains of Heaven". 

S2E4 09:16 to 10:09 “Processing the Nazis”

ABANDON ALL HOPE YE WHO ENTER HERE CHEER UP IT’S ONLY ETERNAL DAMNATION ABANDON ALL HOPE YE WHO ENTER HERE CHEER UP IT’S ONLY ETERNAL DAMNATION

S2E4 11:07 - 13:12: “The offer to return as Zombies”

These two minutes are very tricky: while in the first half it is ok-ish to identify the signals in the spectrum, the second half is overlaid by so much noise… – yes, we are calling the dialogues and sounds in hell noise now :D – that we chose a different approach. 

It looked as if the sequence starts from the beginning, so we compared both parts, and now we are quite sure that it is the same pattern. 

DO NOT LICK THE WALLS HEAVEN LOOKS DOWN ON YOU BECAUSE YOU ARE PATHETIC ABANDON ALL HOPE YE WHO ENTER HERE CHEER UP IT’S ONLY ETERNAL DAMNATION DO NOT LICK THE WALLS HEAVEN LOOKS DOWN ON YOU BECAUSE YOU ARE PATHETIC ABANDON ALL HOPE YE WHO ENTER HERE CHEER UP IT’S ONLY ETERNAL DAMNATION DO NOT LICK THE WALLS HEAVEN LO …

So those are the sections we are pretty certain we have correct. However, there is one section we are still unsure on - maybe you can help?

Back to S2E4 06:19 to 08:23

We have been fighting hard with the first six seconds, before “HAVE A DREADFUL ETERNITY” and we think it is:

SHE’S IN MA PHONE

Who are we talking about now?

Do you have any other ideas of what this could be? If it is “She’s in ma phone”, what does that mean? Or is the S just noise and it starts with an H? Or even with a B – BE’S IN MA PHONE?

So, what are your thoughts on all of these messages? Why go to the effort of putting morse code here? Is it a fun easter egg, or something more? And why say “dreadful eternity” in morse when the quote used in the show is “miserable eternity”? We have so many questions!

Spoiler: There is more code hidden throughout the series.  Let us know what you see or hear!

-... .    -.- .. -. -..    - ---    . .- -.-. ….    --- - …. . .-. 

An amazing joint effort with @noneorother, @kimberleyjean, @thebluestgreen, and @embracing-the-ineffable at the @ineffable-detective-agency (with the incredible @maufungi, @somehow-a-human, @lookingatacupoftea, @komorezuki, @havemyheartaziraphale, and @dunkthebiscuit)

See more of our posts, plus a collection of Clues and metas from all over the fandom, here.

[cambridge-nps]

I wrote a silly little thing about Tommy hiding the fact he wears glasses from Buck. Unfortunately, since i'm incapable of writing sexy times this is gonna have to stay g :(

Here's a small snippet:

“Be honest with me,” Buck said, arms crossed, “do you think Tommy is seeing someone else?”

Ravi choked. “What?”

“I’m serious. He keeps sneaking off with his phone.”

Ravi wiped his mouth and gave Buck a look. “Buck. Buddy. That man has stolen two helicopters for you.”

Buck waved it off. “Light domestic terrorism aside, I’m just saying something’s up. You think maybe he’s bored? I’ve been working tons of doubles lately so I haven’t had time for my normal gym routine. I think my butt’s gotten flat.”

“Tommy talks about your butt like it’s a religious experience.”

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

If you see any spelling or grammar mistakes, please let me know.

You can read the whole thing below or on A03 -> Clearly Into You

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Buck wasn't usually a jealous guy. Okay. That was a lie. It had all started early one morning, Buck was balancing a banana nut muffin in one hand and a mug of coffee in the other when he noticed Tommy ducking back into the bedroom with his phone. Again. It was the third time that morning. This was after the incident yesterday—Tommy had disappeared into the garage just to “check a message,” and when Buck rounded the corner with a fresh cup of coffee to surprise him, Tommy had nearly jumped out of his skin. Buck's gut had churned then. Now it was practically staging a rebellion. He didn’t want to be that guy, the paranoid boyfriend, the clingy one, but when your long-term, ruggedly hot firefighter boyfriend starts acting like he's guarding the Missing Link every time his phone buzzes, you begin to worry. And Tommy? Tommy was the definition of sketchy lately. Buck had mentioned it casually to Tommy that night in bed. “You’ve been kind of... phone-private lately, huh?” Tommy had just snorted and rolled over, kissing Buck’s shoulder like that was an answer.

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The next day, Buck strolled into the living room with a dish towel slung over his shoulder and a faint whistle on his lips, just in time to catch Tommy snapping his phone screen off like he’d been caught looking up something deeply illicit. The speed of it was unnatural. Almost Olympic-level. Buck stopped mid-step, eyebrow lifting. “...Was that the nuclear launch codes, or…?” Tommy, sprawled on the couch with an exaggerated air of innocence, blinked up at him. “What?” “You just closed your phone like I walked in on you sexting a senator.” Tommy made a face, scoffing. “Don’t be ridiculous. I was—watching a video.” “Uh-huh,” Buck said, folding his arms. “Why’d you practically throw it across the room like it bit you?” Tommy shifted, “Reflexes. I’ve got cat-like reflexes.” “Oh, is that what we’re calling ‘panic’ now?” Tommy sniffed, nose tilted. “You startled me.” Buck peered at Tommy suspiciously. “What are you hiding?” “Nothing.” “Is it porn? “What? No!” Tommy didn’t even look up. “It was an educational video on new fire safety procedures.” Buck snorted. “Is that what we’re calling it now?” Tommy grinned. “Hey, I know “movie night” is a shared activity and I take our joint research sessions very seriously.” “Oh, joint research, huh?” Buck said, crossing his arms. “Because I distinctly remember you fast-forwarding through the plot last night.” “There was a plot?” Buck rolled his eyes but couldn’t stop the laugh that slipped out. “You know for a guy who claims he likes character development, you sure skipped a lot of dialogue.” “I’m just efficient,” Tommy said, smug. “Besides, I already know how it ends.” “Oh yeah?” Buck asked, stepping closer with a teasing smirk. “And how’s that?” “With both of us hitting pause because it got us a little too inspired.” “You know,” Buck murmured, eyes soft but sharp, “you’re very good at distracting me.” Tommy blinked, doing his best innocent face. “Am I?” “Mhm. Suspiciously good.” Buck kissed the corner of Tommy’s mouth, then pulled back just enough to look at him. “Almost like you’re trying to steer me away from asking what was going on with your phone earlier.” Tommy froze—just a flicker, just for a second—but Buck caught it. “It’s nothing, Evan. I promise.” And with that Tommy got up and walked into the kitchen.

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A few days later, another incident occurred when Buck showed up unannounced to Harbour Station to surprise Tommy with a sandwich from their favourite deli shop, which was the romantic equivalent of a bouquet of roses in firefighter terms. He spotted Tommy sitting alone in his truck in the back lot, hunched over his phone like it owed him money. Buck tapped on the window. Tommy jumped so hard he dropped the phone into the footwell. “Hey,” Buck said, peeking in. “What’re you doing out here?” Tommy looked mildly panicked. “Nothing! Just... decompressing.” Buck leaned into the window. “You know, when most people decompress, they don’t clutch their phone like it’s a cursed artifact.” Tommy fake-laughed, and kissed him on the cheek. “You're cute when you're nosy,” while casually sliding his phone back into his pocket. Suspicious. Very suspicious.

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

After another non-answer from Tommy regarding his secretive phone use, Buck finally cornered Ravi in the kitchen of the 118, where Ravi was busy shoveling pasta into his mouth between calls. “Be honest with me,” Buck said, arms crossed, “do you think Tommy is seeing someone else?” Ravi choked. “What?” “I’m serious. He keeps sneaking off with his phone.” Ravi wiped his mouth and gave Buck a look. “Buck. Buddy. That man has stolen two helicopters for you.” Buck waved it off. “Light domestic terrorism aside, I’m just saying something’s up. You think maybe he’s bored? I’ve been working tons of doubles lately so I haven’t had time for my normal gym routine. I think my butt’s gotten flat.” “Tommy talks about your butt like it’s a religious experience.” Buck blushed. “Well. Still.” Since Buck’s falling out with Eddie—that argument in the kitchen that had left more than just words simmering—his friendship with Ravi had unexpectedly deepened. What started as casual conversation and shared beers had turned into real camaraderie, with Ravi naturally folding into Buck’s life outside the station. That meant spending time with Tommy too, and to Buck’s quiet delight, Ravi and Tommy hit it off effortlessly. The two shared an easy banter, trading dry humour and obscure movie references like they'd been friends for years. Ravi rolled his eyes. “Tommy’s not cheating. He’s obsessed with you. He just—sometimes he gets weird when something’s wrong with him. He doesn’t like looking vulnerable.” Buck narrowed his eyes. “So you do think something’s wrong.” Ravi shrugged. “Probably, but not something scandalous. He’s just not good at asking for help, you know that. Remember he tried to splint his own ankle last month with a clipboard and duct tape.” “…Yeah, okay. That tracks.” Ravi pointed a tomato sauce covered spoon at Buck’s chest. “If Tommy is hiding something, it’s probably because he’s the one embarrassed. You ever think of that?” Buck frowned. “I don’t like it when you’re right. It’s bad for our power dynamic.”

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

The truth broke open like a scene from a soap opera. Buck walked into the kitchen one evening after a shortened shift to find Tommy squinting at his phone, held at arm’s length. Then—he reached into the drawer. Pulled out a sleek pair of reading glasses: Slim, black-rimmed, very distinguished. And slipped them on. Buck gasped like a Victorian man seeing a naked ankle. Tommy spun around, glasses in hand, caught red-handed. “Don’t say anything,” he muttered. “Please. I know. It’s awful.” Buck stared. “That’s what all this has been? The secret phone stuff? The whispering? The disappearing acts?” Tommy looked sheepish. “I didn’t want you to see me like this.” “Like what? Sexy librarian-core? Because it’s working.” Tommy groaned and sank into a chair. “No, I didn’t want you to see this version of me. I’m officially ancient. Glasses for the phone. Next it’ll be pill organizers and orthopedic sandals. You’re going to realize I’m some tragic, washed-up old man and run off with someone who can read a menu without squinting.” Buck blinked. “…You think I’m going to stop loving you because you need reading glasses?” Tommy looked truly miserable. “You’re still in your thirties. I’m—well, not. And look at me. The greys, a back that makes that clicking noise when I get out of bed. And I didn’t want you to—” Buck took a step forward. “Didn’t want me to what?” Tommy rubbed the back of his neck. “Realize how much older I am than you.” Buck stared at him, heart lurching. Then he stepped in, gently took the glasses, and placed them back on Tommy’s face. “You look like a sexy professor who teaches Advanced Fire Tactics at the Academy. Honestly, I’d enroll twice.” Tommy snorted. “And for the record?” Buck continued. “Yeah, your body’s incredible. You’re all tall and muscly, with those ridiculous forearms and muscles on top of muscles in your biceps that’s not even fair. And the flecks of grey in your hair? I’ve been trying to act normal about it, but it makes me want to climb you like a rope ladder.” Tommy laughed, the tension cracking at last. “But even if you didn’t look like that,” Buck added, quieter now, “I’d still love you. Because of how you show up. Because of how you make me feel like I matter, even when I’m being annoying or insecure or irrational.” He cupped Tommy’s face. “You’re smart. Snarky. Kind. You give a crap about people, even when it costs you something. That’s what I fell for. And that’s not going away.” Tommy looked at him for a beat, the barest shine in his eyes. “So... you’re okay with the glasses?” “Like you wouldn’t believe,” Buck whispered. “Want me to keep wearing them?” Buck said, grinning. “You might wanna bring them to bed. Just saying.” Tommy kissed him — slow, smiling against his lips. “You’re a menace.” “But I’m your menace,” Buck said.

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

Tommy had been hesitant at first—wearing the glasses only when he was home alone, taking them off the second someone knocked at the door, and absolutely refusing to wear them during social gatherings. But Buck noticed. Of course he did. And over time, with quiet compliments and casual sincere praise, Buck chipped away at whatever insecurity was holding Tommy back. Now, Tommy wore them without flinching. Still a little self-conscious, maybe, still adjusting to the feel of them on his face—but the difference was noticeable. He didn’t hide anymore. Buck noticed that, too. Tommy adjusted his new glasses on the bridge of his nose, squinting at the mirror like the frames might suddenly shapeshift into something more flattering. “You keep looking at yourself like you’re trying to figure out who you are,” Buck said from the doorway, arms crossed, leaning just enough to make it obvious he’d been watching for a while. “I look like a dad trying to figure out how to work his own thermostat,” Tommy muttered. “You look like a sexy professor who could ruin my life in under ten seconds,” Buck said, dead serious. Tommy turned, raising an eyebrow over the rim of the glasses. “Ruin your life, huh?” “Oh yeah,” Buck said, pushing off the doorway and walking closer. “Like, ‘talk sternly to me in a quiet voice while handing me back my overdue essay face down’ kind of ruin.” Tommy smirked. “You have a whole fantasy worked out already?” Buck shrugged. “Not my fault you put those on and suddenly I want to sin in a public classroom.” Tommy laughed, cheeks a little pink. “You’re ridiculous.” “You’re hot,” Buck shot back, stopping just in front of him. “I mean—you were already hot. But now? Now I want to make bad choices with you in a very well-lit, academic environment.” Tommy leaned in slightly, eyes glinting. “So what you’re saying is… I should wear these more often.” Buck grinned, voice low and warm. “I’m saying if you don’t, I might start leaving textbooks around the house just to tempt you.” Tommy reached up, slowly removing the glasses and setting them aside. “Well. That sounds like dangerous encouragement.” Buck stepped closer, practically nose to nose now. “Good. I like a little danger.”

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[rcmclachlan]

#not me glancing at this photo as i write the super!tommy au sequel

(loud_glass_shattering.sfx as i dive through the window)

REALLY???? YIPPEE!!!!!

JUST FOR THAT, YOU'RE GETTING A SNIPPET WHETHER YOU LIKE IT OR NOT

+

Evan flicks his eyes from Tommy's outstretched hand to the 10,000-foot drop below and says slowly, "So, when I said I wanted to make good on those flying lessons, this isn't what I meant."

Even if Tommy couldn't smell the serotonin and norepinephrine currently being dumped into Evan's bloodstream, he wouldn't believe for a second that this is the moment when Evan finally decides to err on the side of safety and choose to not do the risky thing. He's heard all about the various dumbass stunts Evan's pulled over the last eight years, including the one with the SUV rigged to explode.

Standing at the edge of a mountain summit without any gear and being asked to step off? That's the kind of shit Evan Buckley volunteers for by raising not one but both hands, and possibly one leg. 

But there is more norepinephrine than there is serotonin and whatever endorphins are cycling around Evan's body, and Evan's wild, almost erratic heartbeat drowns out every other sound in the world.

Tommy can't help but think of the little dormouse he'd found in the pantry last month. He ended up coaxing it into a cup and then released it beneath the rhododendron bush in the backyard, and even flicked a little gust of wind to keep his neighbor's cat from getting too curious. 

The mouse had been perfectly safe with him, but it had only looked at him with wide-eyed terror—with norepinephrine flooding its system, and with a heartbeat so loud it drowned out the world.

Slowly, he lowers his hand. 

The summit glows pink with the first blush of dawn, and when Tommy floats over and puts his feet back on solid ground, Evan blows out a shaky breath.

Mortified horror twists his guts into a square knot. "Shit, Evan, I—"

But before Tommy can choke out the beginnings of an apology, Evan takes a running leap off the edge.

The stunned hush that falls over the summit has nothing to do with Evan literally jumping off a cliff and everything to do with the fact that Tommy absolutely should've seen this coming. 

With a put-upon sigh, Tommy drops his head back and grumbles out loud to the universe at large, "This is what Superman must've felt like when he first learned about fucking kryptonite." 

Then he follows Evan right over the edge.

[emphasisonthehomo]

Fic Snippet!

Some Ryan POV of the comedy of errors where he doesn't realize that Tommy's gay. Related to Misperception.

•

“How’d you meet your partner?” Ryan asks politely when he and Tommy are sitting around at Harbor.  

Ryan’s just finished re-making fake flight plans for the umpteenth time under Tommy’s watchful eye, and he’d like to talk about something not work related. Now that they’re on a break of sorts Tommy keeps distractedly smiling at his phone. It’s not difficult to guess why. Apparently their anniversary is coming up and they’ve been planning a big trip.

“We met on a call, actually,” Tommy says, looking a little bashful.

“Ooh, a dramatic rescue?” Ryan knows this probably isn’t what happened, but he’s imagining Tommy carrying a beautiful, faceless woman out of a burning building.

“It’s not what you’re thinking,” Tommy says with a laugh, as if he’s read Ryan’s mind, “So, actually Ev-"

The alarms go off, and Tommy stops midsentence, shoving his phone into one of the pockets on his flight suit as he stands. Ryan wonders for a second what Tommy’s girlfriend’s name is. Evalyn? Eva? But then he has no time to wonder, because they’re prepping to take off.

��

“The 118 is in the news again,” Sylvia says later on, pointing in the direction of the TV. She sounds simultaneously bored and amused.  

Ryan’s in the middle of watering his flowers in Animal Crossing and he glances up at the TV. The breaking news declares LAFD LEFT STRANDED DUE TO EQUIPMENT MALFUNCTION almost gleefully. Sylvia’s statement must have also caught Tommy’s attention, because he wanders closer and squints at the screen. 

“–sources say ladder fully extended during a routine rescue of a cat in a tree–” Tommy says, slowly reading the closed captioning.

Sure enough, at that point the footage swings upwards to show two figures in the basket, the ladder stretched up into a cloudless sky. The camera zooms in shakily, before focusing on a pair of unamused men holding an even more unamused orange cat.

“Oh my god, it’s Eddie and Evan” Tommy starts to laugh, and pulls his phone out and snaps a picture of the TV screen.

“I’m gonna text Lucy and tell her to get her ass over here,” Sylvia says, before turning to Ryan and saying sotto voce, “They both used to work out of that station.”

“I can’t believe it was an actual tree rescue,” Ryan complains, “I never got to rescue any cats from trees.”

All of his pet rescue experiences have been fire related which tends to be… fraught, to say the least. Carrying a terrified and wriggling goldendoodle out of a burning building and almost getting bit for his trouble, for example. The news footage keeps cutting between the scowling firefighters and, thankfully in this case, a very unhappy but very unharmed orange tabby. A cute trio, Ryan will admit. The cat visibly hisses at the white guy holding it. In response the man proceeds to, by all appearances, start lecturing the cat while the other firefighter bursts into laughter.

“It looks like that’s for the best,” Sylvia says, putting her phone down, “When the universe throws you a stereotype, it throws you trouble as well.”

Lucy chooses that moment to arrive and she starts cackling. Tommy’s just standing in front of the TV now, watching as another ladder truck pulls up along side the malfunctioning one. Ryan gets distracted by his video game again. Lucy and Sylvia start talking about their off-shift plans, half paying attention. When Ryan glances up, Tommy’s eyes are still fixed on the screen intently. His arms are crossed. It reminds Ryan of how he looks in the air sometimes. The second ladder basket raises up, and comes to a stop next to the two men. It isn’t until they’ve stepped into it and are slowly lowered back down, that Tommy’s shoulders relax.

“I’m going to give them so much shit for this,” Tommy says, taking his phone back out, and beginning to type away.   

[beardedjoel]

pretty little wife | masterlist

status: ongoing one shot collection pairing: husband!joel x f!reader summary: chronicles the daily life, past and present, of husband!joel and his pretty little wife. warnings: 18+ MDNI, sub/dom relationship, large age gap (20+ years), free use kink, each chapter is smut heavy with sprinklings of domestic fluff, praise kink, heavy on the pet names for reader, chapters are individually tagged with warnings! 🌹 main masterlist | ao3 | kofi | fic tag 🌹

✦ = smut ✩ = fluff

main chapters: ♡ better now ✦ 3.9k — a snippet in the seemingly perfect daily life of husband!joel and his lovely housewife. ♡ morning glory ✦✩ 4.3k — saturday mornings are for his wife, joel claims, so he spends this one making his wife come as many times as he damn well pleases. ♡ generous ✦ 10.5k — tommy stops by to see you and joel in the evening, and the night takes a turn that you never could have expected. joel x f!reader x tommy for this chapter. ♡ sit tight ✦ 6.5k — you're hosting a dinner party in the miller household, and as usual, joel can't help but turn it into a chance to tease his pretty little wife. ♡ do you have an appointment? ✦✩ 11.2k — pretty wife visits joel at work when he forgets his lunch, and he wants to show everyone there just how good you are to him. and when you're good, you get a reward. ♡ meet cute, part one , part two ✦✩ 8.3k, 9.5k — a flashback to the night joel and pretty wife meet, and the beginnings of their relationship. ♡ sorry, baby ✦✩ 4k — joel is stressed and busy with a big project at work lately. his pretty little wife makes it all better. ♡ crazy 4 u ✦✩ 9k — joel has historically made sure that valentine's day is special for his pretty little wife, but this year he's gone above and beyond.

ficlets: ♡ butt dial ✩ 2.3k — you're home alone while joel is out with his brother. he butt dials you, and you hear some very interesting things.

[chimneyz]

several sentences sun monday

tagged by @ambernotember thank you <3

a small little snippet of the tommy coma dream fic i have been slowly chipping away at

“I’m surprised you can still stand on your two feet,” a familiar voice called out. 

Tommy whips his head round searching around the loft, his eyes landing on the stairs. On them, Evn descended with a fond smile painted across his face, his eyes almost sparkled. As he slowly walked down the stairs, Evan was tugging on the sleeve of his blue hoodie. That blue hoodie, Tommy knew that hoodie. Where did he know it from? 

“What do you mean?” Tommy tilted his head, his mind still spinning. 

Evan reached the bottom of the stairs, huffing out a laugh, “You fought off a fire for hours.” Evan stepped closer, biting down on his bottom lip, his eyes wandering up and down. “And instead of going back to your station to get some rest, you headed straight for the wedding,” Evan grinned, “You realized you didn’t have to do that, right? And yet, you did.” 

Confused, Tommy looked down to find himself wearing turnouts, covered head to toe in grimy soot. Overwhelming exhaustion crashed into him in a thick, heavy wave. 

Tommy doesn’t remember getting here, he doesn’t remember the wedding, the fire, nothing. At one moment Tommy was running from the busy New Years Eve streets, through the bitter winter air, to get to Evan’s side as quickly as he could. The next he was in an apartment that seemed all too slick and modern from what he was staying in not too long ago, from suit to turnouts, his body now aching, his eyelids growing heavy taunting him for sleep. 

None of this made any sense. Now that he was thinking about it, not many things have as of late. 

“You still owe me that dance,” Evan reached out his hand, a small blush spreading through his cheeks. 

“Right,” Tommy whispered. 

Evan gently took his hand guiding Tommy into place, wrapping his other hand around Tommy’s waist holding him close. Tommy melted into the warmth of Evan’s touch following Evan’s movements step by step dancing around the loft. The beginning of soft music startled Tommy, it was becoming increasingly difficult to relax.

At last, my love has come along 

Something wasn’t right.

My lonely days are over

This was too perfect, too good to be true, it was as if ... as if this was all just a dream. 

“Hey Tommy,” Evan pressed his forehead against Tommy’s, bringing himself closer, “Are you ok?"

no pressure tags: @wikiangela @loucifersbitch @exhaustedpirate @pilot-kinard @firehose118 @lovetommyactually @panikkarscurls @setmeatopthepyre

[mustlovetommy]

I absolutely adore your shifter Evan snippets, poor Tommy being stalked by an adorable little fox, lmao, can I please have some more? 🌩️

Hi, nonnie! Thank you so much! I'm so happy you're enjoying it so far.

Here's another snippet for you!

Also, this is for @sadieb798, who commented on the Make Me Write post for a snippet of this as well!

Refusing to take a no for an answer –and not wanting to spend the night outside– he grabs the hoodie again and awkwardly makes his way towards the back of the house. He makes quite the picture: a fox trotting along, with a hoodie clutched in his mouth. 

He almost loses the hoodie while squeezing through a bush, and he’s pretty sure there are still some leaves stuck in his fur, despite the full-body shake he did right after, but he manages to go through.

When he finally reaches the back door, he sighs at not seeing a dog door, even though the chances of Tommy having one were slim to begin with. Resigned but determined, he rises on his hind legs and begins scratching the door while letting out a series of yips.

“Oh my god,” Tommy’s voice comes from inside. “Are you kidding me?” 

If he could smile, he would be doing it right now. He doubles down, scratching harder and being even louder. 

A thud sounds from behind the door. Tommy’s probably just smacked his head against the door in frustration. In reply, he lets out a shrill bark.

“I will call animal control, I swear to God,” Tommy snaps, yanking the door open. 

Tommy’s frustration melts from his expression the moment he sees him sitting there, with the leaves in his fur and the hoodie beside him. 

Sighing, Tommy mutters, “Why are you so damn cute?”

[for-a-longlongtime]

Good lord what is the young Joel and Marcus wip 😏

ANON come here and let me kiss you on the forehead!! This one is special to me 😍

First of all... young!Joel Miller x young!MarcusMoreno is not a pairing that comes completely out of nowhere. As a matter of fact, they're lurking in my masterlist, tucked into a story, but I don't want to spoiler it for other people who may not have read some of the fics I wrote last year.

However, if you know - you know. 😏

Let's get into it:

This is probably one of the heftiest WIPs that I haven't posted anything from yet, as the doc clocks in at about 5K so far - and it's actually going to be a series! I'd say a tentative 9 to 10 (not super long, hopefully LOL) chapters at this point. And I'm actually going to try to have most of this written, or at the very least have half of it done before I post the first chapter, just to make things a little more manageable for myself.

We meet Joel and Marcus in Austin, TX when they're about 20 and 21 years old, and the series will span a period of approximately twenty five years actually, so I'm very excited about that! They meet in a bar - that Joel isn't supposed to be at, because he's not of legal drinking age - when they're trying to break up a fight among their friends, which results into the two of them getting kicked out.

Joel has been working long, long days in construction for a few years in order to support himself and Tommy, as their parents died when Joel was 16/17 years old. One of the reasons why he rolled into that line of work - besides the money - is because the childhood house that they still live in needs so much work done, and the only way he could think about being able to afford that somehow is by learning how to do all the work himself because he'd never be able to afford a contractor.

His life couldn't be any more different than Marcus', who is busy with college and who tries to hide a part of his life for most people - namely that his father is the leader of the Heroics and his mother is a Heroics trainer. There is the expectation that he's going to follow in their footsteps, but his powers haven't shown up yet, so he's trying to focus on blazing his own path.

They end up becoming friends, and music plays an important role in that; the series takes place in the (early/mid) nineties, so get ready for a good amount of grunge / rock / etc. There are a lot of twists and turns in their story (apparantly Little Beast was only the beginning of a whole lot of angst/drama pouring into my fics), so I don't want to reveal too much it, but let's just say that it's a tough ass road and things don't go the way they've planned.

But! I do have enough written so far that I can show you a little snippet of a very rough outline from chapter 2:

Joel and Marcus listening to grunge music and smoking so much pot at Joel's place. Careful first kisses. Giggling about it as they’re so stoned and kind of nervous. (They only smoke pot when Tommy isn’t around/going to be home that night, also to help manage Joels aches as he tends to be sore after a long day at the construction site - that's half of the reason why Marcus brings over weed). They’re both too high to do anything that requires much coordination but Marcus starts grinding against Joel’s dick and they eventually get eachother off that way, clothes still on, sitting on the couch. There are more kisses while they're both still panting, now with a giggle in between breaths every now and then, and the weed just makes them lose track of time - and it's not all that long before Joel finds himself grinding his hips up against Marcus again. "Fuck. Fuck, I…." He can't find the words, especially not when Marcus rocks back against him, just a little slower on his refractory period. "I want…. Fuck. 'm too high. I can't…" Marcus hushing him with another kiss and Joel moans, grabbing Marcus' hips and shifting on the couch, until Marcus is on his back and Joel on top of him. Nudging his hips into Marcus until they line up, still fully dressed, and the little “oh my god” once he gets it right. "Take it, take it, take it," Marcus panting under him, holding onto Joel's broad shoulders, which makes Joel moan against him, and when Marcus' hands grab Joel's ass, something just clicks inside of Joel's brain. And despite that everything is still slow and soft, he just goes feral because he wants it - wants Marcus - so goddamn bad "Wish I was inside you," against Marcus' ear, and Marcus cries out at that, imagining it, and because it feels so good that Joel is fucking his cock against him. "I wish I…" And not all of it is coherent, it's a string of words that fall from his lips, but he kind of talks Marcus through it, what he wants to do to him, and Marcus just loses his shit because holy fuck, Joel's voice is so deep when he's been smoking like this, and nobody has ever talked to him like this while getting off, and he loves it.

Thanks again for asking, Anon!! I honestly can't wait to write more on them and to eventually share these boys with all of you.

Want to know more about fics in my WIP folder? Check out the original post!

pssst, this is me looking innocent and tagging y'all for no reason whatsoever except for that you might be interested to see this WIP that's in the making 😇😘 thank you all so much for the support you gave to GP! @oliveksmoked @ohforficsake @wannab-urs @baronessvonglitter @angiewatson

@iknowisoundcrazyreads @gruaig-rua @thebeldroramscal @milla-frenchy @reallyrallyauthor

@jessthebaker @littleredpandanaps @bitchesuntitled @avastrasposts @almostempty

@almostfoxglove @rebel-held @magpiepills @legendary-pink-dot @mysterious-moonstruck-musings

@din-cognito @penvisions @alltheglitterandtheroar

[setmeatopthepyre]

Mustache

[ @118dailydrabble day 67] [tommy begins snippets] [118 words]

“What the hell got into Cap today?” Sal mutters, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder.

Howie shrugs. “Pissed that he has to find someone to replace Eli?”

“I don’t know,” Tommy says, keeping his voice low. “He didn’t exactly put in the effort to find a second paramedic until Eli trained you for it.”

“So he just doesn’t trust me to do it alone, what a shocker.”

“Well, whatever it is, he’s walking around like a man on a mission,” Sal says.

Howie sighs. “And we can only wonder what that mission is.”

“To boldly go where no mustache has gone before?” Tommy suggests, earning him a bright laugh from Howie.

Sal groans. “You two gotta boldly get out.”

[diazsdimples]

Fuck It Friday/ Inspiration Saturday

Tagged by @wikiangela @actuallyitsellie @jesuisici33 @hippolotamus @wildlife4life @exhuastedpigeon @neverevan @spotsandsocks @theotherbuckley @cal-daisies-and-briars for Friday, tagging you all back for Saturday (sorry if I missed anyone, I am SO behind on my notifications)

Okay it's Saturday here but I'm sure it's still Friday somewhere right?? HAPPY BI BUCK TO EVERYONE!!!! This fic is inspired entirely by That Kiss, and it sparked me to make a 7x06 spec fic. So, please enjoy what will hopefully be the only snippet (godwilling) of the Why Are Buck and Eddie So Dirty At Madney's Wedding fic. This snippet is from the very beginning and yes, it is Bucktommy (for now), no I will not apologise for it. Enjoy!

“You-you’ve never called me that before” he breathes. Tommy brushes the pad of his thumb over Buck’s bottom lip, releasing it from his teeth. He brushes his other hand through Buck’s hair, fingers threading through his yet-to-be-tamed curls. “What, baby?” he asks, grinning as Buck’s eyes flutter shut at the utterance of the name once again. “Is that okay?” ‘Y-yeah,” Buck nods, leaning forwards to brush their noses together again, angling his face up in an implicit request for a kiss. “I kinda liked it.” Tommy hums out a laugh and Buck feels it reverberate deep in his chest. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he says softly, and he hooks his finger under Buck’s chin, just like he did the first time they kissed, and captures Buck’s lips with his. Every time he’s kissed by Tommy, Buck is introduced to a whole other side of the word “soft”. He’s had the feminine “soft” plenty of times, with the way Abby would curl into him after a long shift, or how Ali would brush his hair from his forehead with her nimble fingers, and even on the rare occasion with Taylor, when she was sleepy and would crawl into his arms and fall asleep in seconds.  With Tommy, it’s different. Tommy holds Buck like he’s a fragile egg, smoothing his thumbs over the cracks and balancing him in his palm. He’s soft in the way he holds Buck to his chest, or the way he kisses Buck’s hair while they’re watching a movie, or how he knows when Buck’s had a bad shift and needs to get out of his head for a bit, and will come over with pizza and beer and promises of kisses.  He’s soft in the way he presses his palm to the small of Buck’s back when they’re out together, but not as if he’s pushing Buck in a certain direction. More like he’s grounding Buck, showing him that he’s allowed to be out, happy, with a man.

tagging @watchyourbuck @daffi-990 @bidisasterbuckdiaz @rainbow-nerdss @babybibuck @evanbegins @fortheloveofbuddie @spagheddiediaz @loserdiaz @giddyupbuck @aroeddiediaz @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @kitteneddiediaz @elvensorceress @thekristen999 @smilingbuckley @epicbuddieficrecs @underwater-ninja-13 @shortsighted-owl @loveyouanyway (also sorry if I've missed anyone, so many have changed urls and I can't keep up sksksks)

[kidvoodoo]

Jeest Mafia AU, snippet under the cut 💚💙

Joost tried not to make eye contact with anyone at the airport, though the stares he received at his battered face were inevitable. How many tall, blond, bandaged, bruised and bloody men were in a hurried rush to the terminal? Odds say: not many.

‘Not that I should be thinking about odds right now’ chided his conscience, ‘that’s how I got into this mess in the first place…’

His pace didn’t falter despite the looks from the other passengers lining up in their respective lines. All of them with bags and luggage alike underarm or trailing behind them, his own, suspiciously absent.

No time to pack, clothes on his back, phone, wallet and a little vial of two small white pills. Security checkpoint nearly put an end to those, but a desperate, puppy-eyed look and his disheveled state made the officer roll her eyes and wave him through, for all she knew, or anyone knew, it was aspirin.

‘Fix more than a headache’ his inner thoughts sneered, ‘steady on Joost, for emergencies only’.

He kept his eyes on the gate numbers, briefly glancing at the destinations. Cabo, Shanghai, Johannesburg, each a far flung place he could have potentially laid low in for months, relax on some resort beach or in a high class penthouse…

But that’s not where he’s headed.

He spies the glowing gate number, the destination? Helsinki, Finland. He got the ticket the same day he got the phone call telling him to leave as fast as possible, his usually calm and monotone source had an edge of panic to their voice, Joost trashed the burner after that and shredded the last of his books and burned them. He left his apartment as the ashes were still smoldering.

Finland eh? The only clue of what was happening next was the note in the ticket envelope, hurried scrawling in broken Dutch gave him simple instructions:

Taxi to the airport, pay in cash. Get on the plane. Make sure you are in the camera view the whole time, locate the Air Marshal and watch him. Once you are off the plane, head to the pick up zone in the parking lot and look for the black limo. Tap on the driver’s side window and give the password.

“Here for Tommy’s boy” he mutters under his breath. The magic words that’ll guarantee his safety and freedom, or will land him a bullet between the brows…

Better than the alternative.

He’s on time for the early boarding and hands the Steward his ticket, eyeing the Air Marshal at the doors to the plane’s walkway. He’s given a smile and some well wishes for his flight and finally, for the first time in several days, he feels a little sliver of calm wash over him.

‘Can’t cut me up on the plane you fuckers’

He finds his seat, window view and close to the front of the plane and plops down, the ache in his joints and back starting to flare up since the adrenaline begins to wear off.

Finland…he’s uncertain exactly what is waiting for him there, he regrets not grabbing a translation booklet at the terminal kiosk but there was simply no time. His new phone is IP hidden for the time being till he can get a VPN to bounce his signal, so no using Google’s underwhelming translation system…

He thinks back to a conversation he overheard at a conference last year. The big guys were all there, each of them with a meaty bodyguard in tow and a pistol or two brandished in plain sight.

He was there on happenstance, just finishing up the numbers to hand to his boss for the last fiscal year when his curiosity got the best of him.

“Baltic’s are at it again,” his boss sneers, tapping his cigar onto the floor, “think they’ll hide behind the Nordic cunts so they don’t have to play anymore”.

“Hm.” Another well dressed older man hums in response. He’s the police liaison, a former Captain who’s been working with the mob for 40 years. “Not much to be done about it Albert, the Fins have the advantage now, I hear they’ve even brought Estonia into the fold now.”

Albert snorts, getting to his feet and giving a couple other well-dressed people a farewell wave.

“Cuz of that little shit,” he grumbles, motioning his bodyguard to get a move on. “What’s his name? Kät-something? The Union fucker.”

“Käärijä,” the former Police Captain supplies, “his Union is very bold for an upstart, cutting off the trade in the Baltic’s disrupts everything. Heard he’s in talks of making a deal with the Norwegians as well. That’s the case? Say goodbye to the big money”.

Joost tried to linger as long as possible to catch the last bit of conversation, tucking himself against the wall and listening close.

“Damn idiot, Norway doesn’t play with the new players, even if the young lady is supposedly running things over there now. He’s a fucking lunatic to think the Baltic’s will stay loyal, he’ll be done by the end of the year, mark my words-“

A dinging noise jolts him awake from his daze, the Flight Attendants are doing their safety check. The doors to the plane are closed and for the first time in weeks, months even, Joost’s tense shoulders drop with exhaustion.

He is safe. For now.

<><><>

Roughly three hours later, he startles awake.

The voice over the intercom of the plane cabin announces in several languages that they have arrived at Helsinki Airport and will begin the landing process momentarily.

He spares a glance around the cabin out of paranoia, nothing out of the ordinary and no unwanted eyes in his direction.

Twenty minutes later and he’s heading out of the plane and into the airport terminal. The weather outside is gray and snowy, the sky a mass of colorless clouds and the sun choked somewhere behind. He shivers just looking at the weather, his cheap suit jacket will definitely not suffice.

He heads down the walkways and tried not to get too overwhelmed with the directions, mostly in Finnish but thankfully also in English.

He’s only a hundred feet from the parking lot when he feels eyes on his back. He tries subtly to peak behind and catch if he’s being followed.

Two men, both in dark blue suits and expensive leather shoes, each sporting a grim, intense expression. They have their hands in their pockets.

Joost picks up his pace, eyes focused on the automatic doors that swing open and shut.

He can hear them closing behind him, their shoes loud against the tiles. He starts to jog.

He doesn’t stop to apologize to the people he pushes past to get out of the door, ignoring the scowls and curses thrown his way. His heart is hammering in his chest, he has but a minute to locate the car before he’s dragged off and butchered in a dark corner…

A car horn blares loudly as he flinches and freezes, he had walked right out in front of a pair of high beams, his eyes don’t have time to adjust as he hurriedly runs around to look.

Black limousine, tinted windows with triple thick bulletproof glass and chrome trimming. The driver’s side window rolls down, a bald man with sunglasses and a mustache regards him blankly.

“P-please,” he stammers, eyes catching the two suited men finally breaching the threshold. “I-I’m being followed-“

“What is phrase?” The driver interrupts, not at all phased by the situation in the slightest.

“Th-the wha-oh yes yes, it’s uh…” he swallows takes a breath and speaks the words softly enough for the man to hear him.

“I’m here for Tommy’s boy.”

The door at the back of the limo clicks open, beckoning him inside.

He all but dives into the car and slams the door shut just as the two men make a dash towards the vehicle, only to stop dead in their tracks mere feet away.

Joost doesn’t have the time to take in his surroundings as he sees what has halted his stalkers. In the split second before the limo peels out with a loud screeching of tires, the window on the opposite side is down just enough to see the startled and blanched faces of the two men, who find themselves held in place by a man aiming a 45 caliber handgun at them.

Were it to fire at point blank range, one of the two men would have nearly had his torso blown open. More than a lethal shot, truly overkill at that point.

The car peels out of the lot and before he knows it, Joost is tossed back into he seat as the limo put some speedy distance between him and the danger.

A loud curse and sound of a window being rolled up. Joost finally levels his eyes behind his cracked glasses to see his savior.

Sitting across from him now with the gun held loosely in his grip is a dark haired man with pale skin. He sports a blunted bowl cut and his facial hair is trimmed and tidy. He wears a long black coat with a layered polo necked jumper and a couple silver chains around his neck. The jewelry matches his pierced ears and nose rings, the whole of his attire is expensive and modern looking.

Joost is drawn into the man’s piercing eyes, blue like his own but with an edge of silver steel, made more intimidating and entrancing by the heavy makeup that lines them.

The man is staring at him, Joost’s palms immediately start to sweat.

“I uh,”

“You are the Dutchman we take in?” The man interrupts, his voice has an hint of annoyance, Joost nods politely and holds out his hand to shake.

“Yes, I mean to say, thank you,” he tries to muster a charming smile but finds himself pinned under the man’s gaze like a deer being watched through a hunter’s scope.

“I’m sure this is a bit of trouble for you-“

“Trouble? I say it is bigger trouble for you and not me. You need a drink yes? I have gin and brandy here.” The man all but ignores whatever Joost was trying to say and busies himself with pouring a drink from a side bar containing glasses and some bottles. “Brandy since the gin is warm, I not have a lot of time to get it ready.”

Joost wants to say something, anything to this stranger but finds himself at an utter loss for words. The man looks at him expectantly, pushing the glass of amber liquor into his hands.

“There you drink that, feel better afterwards. You say you looking for Tommy’s boy? That is what he tell you to say? He think he is funny man, he gonna have to explain to me…” the man trails off, eyes now scanning and taking in Joost’s disheveled appearance. “You have injury? I have some bandage here and some other things uh,” the man stops and searches for a word. “you know, doctor supplies?”

“First aid kit?” Joost supplies.

“Ah yes yes! That is it,” the man grins and digs around a bit before huffing in annoyance and opening the little sliding window to the driver’s compartment. He asks for something in Finnish and the bald man replies. Information gathered, he opens a compartment and fishes out a nondescript black case.

“Okei here it is. Let me see your hand, you have blood on your palm.” He does? Joost was in such a mad dash to get away from the goons who had jumped him back in the Netherlands he didn’t have time to take stock of his injuries. He holds out his hand timidly and the man yanks it none too gently to inspect.

“No stitches I think,” he hums, grabbing supplies to clean and patch the gash on Joost’s palm.

The man’s grip is firm and steady, there is warm radiating from beneath the leather gloves he wears.

“You are Mr. Klein eh?” The man says absentmindedly as he cleans the wound. “I hear you screw your boss out two million euros, not bad.” The man smirks, eyes flickering up to Joost’s face. “I like someone who disrupts the status quo. When Tommy say you in trouble, I had to do something about it. Would be a waste for you ending up in concrete.”

Joost cringes a little at the mention of his dilemma, taking a long gulp of his drink and reveling in the burn.

“I don’t know about disruption, I just did what I thought was right is all. Didn’t think it would go this far…” he wishes he could be more proud, he did take a chunk of money from the hands of the worst men in Europe. Now, he’s a marked man, possibly forever.

The dark haired man seems to sense his discomfort and finishes dressing his hand, grabbing a gauze patch and passing it over.

“What is done is done, you think it is bad thing now, but you make a big move, and now you have a big advantage for the war that is coming.”

Joost finishes placing the gauze over the gash on his cheek, looking at the man puzzlingly.

“What war? And what advantage are you talking about?”

The man leans back against his seat and smiles, his sharp canines peak over his lips and his expression is one of amusement and vicious excitement.

“The war between the Union and the Old Men, tear down their ruined kingdom and make our own. The advantage? That’s easy,”

The man chuckles darkly.

“You have Käärijä in your corner now.”

[bigfootsmom]

Seven(ish) sentence Sunday

Thank you to everyone who keeps tagging me in tag games (I’m sorry if I’ve missed snippets that you’ve posted i lose everything in my notes) i was tagged by @tizniz and @diazsdimples for sss thank you beloveds <3 <3 <3

Here is some helicopter crash fic (which is actually getting pretty close to being done?? I think??)

Tommy takes a faltering step forward, knees buckling and sending him back toward the hard earth. But before he can reach it, strong hands grab him. Briefly, he panics as Evan’s weight begins to slide off his shoulders and he tightens his grip, a frantic noise rising in the back of his throat.

“Tommy, Tommy— I’ve got him! You’ve gotta let him go— I’ve got Buck.” That’s Howie’s voice in his ear. He tries to listen to him, forces his stiff fingers to uncurl from their death grip on Evan.

It feels wrong to let go, panic fluttering in his chest even as relief continues to surge through him. Evan is going to be okay. Help is here, Evan is going to be okay!

Tagging @usersiren @honestlydarkprincess @devirnis @underwaterninja13 @father-salmon

@giddyupbuck @monsterrae1 @lonelychicago @maygrantgf @bisexual-buck

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[fairytalegonewronga03]

New BuckTommy Fic!

Love Bites, Love Bleeds (It's Bringin' Me To My Knees)

RATED E Read full story here. 🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇

After Buck is pulled from a burning building, he wakes in the care of Dr. Kinard—a trauma surgeon with a calm voice, cold hands, and a secret centuries deep. Tommy knows better than to get close, but something about Buck pulls him in. Something alive. Dangerous. Irresistible. As Buck heals, their lives begin to intertwine—through blood, fire, and the quiet pull of something neither of them can name.

Snippet below

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As he navigated the crowded hallways, an unexpected scent caught him off-guard, cinnamon and vanilla with an unmistakable copper undertone. It pulled him forward, impossible to ignore. He rounded a corner just as a gurney burst through from the emergency bay, paramedics rattling off information to waiting staff.

"Thirty-two-year-old male—multiple contusions, possible broken ribs!"

Tommy barely registered their words as his focus locked onto the unconscious man they wheeled past. The scent was overwhelming now, emanating from this battered patient who looked fresh from disaster. Both curious and strangely drawn, Tommy followed them into a trauma room where nurses converged on the injured man.

"Oxygen's doing its job," one of the nurses reported, adjusting the mask as they settled Buck onto the bed.

"Get fluids going, wide open," Tommy commanded, stepping in with the natural authority of years in the ER. He bent over Buck, eyes quickly cataloging the blistered skin and darkening bruises visible through the tattered uniform.

"Blood pressure's tanking," called a nurse from the monitor.

Tommy's gaze narrowed. "Two large bore IVs and have blood standing by."

His orders came without hesitation, each directive born from practiced expertise and an unusual urgency he couldn't quite place. He remained fixed at Buck's side, tracking every subtle change in vitals while the trauma team worked around him with practiced precision.

The typical ER chaos continued unabated—ringing phones, beeping machines, staff calls—but Tommy heard none of it. His entire focus had collapsed to this single patient and the inexplicable scent emanating from him. Something that demanded his complete attention.

"Stay with us," he said under his breath as Buck shifted slightly beneath the sedation, the movement sending a jolt of something primal through Tommy's system. That slight response spurred Tommy to action. He adjusted oxygen flow, checked the IV sites, and ordered additional fluid boluses, all while fighting against the distracting pull of that strange, intoxicating scent. The light-headedness it caused was maddening, but he forced himself to concentrate.

"Need chest films, stat," he ordered, voice clipped as he fought to keep his professional focus.

Machines beeped and numbers fluctuated around them as Tommy worked, refusing to leave Buck's side until he'd personally overseen every treatment—stabilizing broken ribs, debriding and dressing burns with meticulous attention that surprised even the veteran nurses around him. When Buck's vitals finally stabilized and his breathing evened out, Tommy stepped back to survey their handiwork. The firefighter looked peaceful now amid the medical equipment, his battered body momentarily at rest.

Tommy jotted down notes with practiced efficiency—treatment protocols and follow-up orders—before tucking the clipboard under his arm and heading for the door.

He strode through the harsh fluorescent hallway toward the waiting room, driven equally by professional obligation and an unexplainable curiosity about who might be waiting for this particular patient.

🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇 @xtarmanderx @fand0mfancies @jamieroyjamieroy @loulou-land @winterbuckwild

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