i think i can fix that. @acommonfairy - Tumblr Blog

a dependent rp blog for @godscobhhq

James was all but certain that Tinley was just kidding herself about all this "loyalty" nonsense. The Crocs weren't loyal to him because of some frivolous, imaginary sense of brotherhood—they were loyal because they knew what the price would be if they weren't.

"My crew is loyal to me because I give a damn about them. I give a damn about surviving. I don't have them all sticking their necks out like idiots."

Hook demanded the kind of respect that came about under threat of going to war, he did not care one bit if his crew actually liked or trusted him. He cared that they lived as long as Nauticus would live. No one could trust anyone in this business. Hook clearly made that mistake trusting Tinley, and he wouldn't come close to it again.

"They'll use you. Just like they use each other. The moment you stop being useful, you’re out," Hook seethed through his teeth. Clearly the Lost Boys didn't value their tinkerer if they'd put her and everyone else in the gang in harm's way. In the way of James Hook.

"You know I'm right. Some people are just one bad day away from throwing each other under the bus. A lot of people, Bell," He does recognize the irony in asking her to do the same, "The moment the cops catch up? Or when someone more dangerous than me comes sniffing around? They obviously have no qualms throwing you to the wolves if it saves their skin. You won’t even get a second thought. Is that the kind of loyalty you want?"

acommonfairy

Instead of making her question the Lost Boys, Hook's words brought a wave of clarity over Tinley. It gave her a window into his warped worldview, where everyone was out for themselves. She knew his brand of loyalty really came from threats and having power over others, and that wasn't true loyalty to her.

She might have been annoyed with the Boys, she might sometimes worry about how much they really appreciated her, but she knew them. The kind of loyalty Peter had built, the camaraderie they shared, wasn't the kind that went away because things got hard. They'd sooner throw themselves to the wolves than each other, and she'd witnessed it time and time again.

"What I want is for you to stop lecturing me about loyalty and tell me if you have any work for me today," she grouched.

#☆ // thread #☆ // james hook

spendfcrever

Elinor almost stops the car completely when they hear Tinley's orders. They'd already been so focused on driving, driving, driving that they didn't question it when their body instinctively took the next exit. Elinor always did as they were told.

"What? No!" The teacher felt their voice raising along with their already sky-high anxiety, and yet despite their protests, Elinor's body followed Tinley's instructions precisely. What were they even doing? Obviously they can't just drop their friend off on the side of the road! But it's what Tinley told them to do... "I can't do that!"

Their control of the situation is already lost, though. Maybe Elinor never really had it in the first place. In seconds, they're off the highway and following small backroads into some sort of shopping center Elinor's never seen before. Fuck, they must be miles from Godscobh now. It's not even a road with a sidewalk, just a paved area where shipping trucks might drop things off. Fuck.

It's as if all power drains from Elinor's fingers that were gripping the wheel tightly moments ago. The car stops, and they just unlock the doors.

acommonfairy

Tinley checks their pursuer's progress over her shoulder as Elinor slows the car, mentally scouting out the route she'll take to lose him. She's relieved that despite their protests, Elinor's still going along with her plan.

As the car stops, she pauses with her hand on the door handle for a second, regret eating away at her. Stepping out this door will likely mark the end of the tenuous friendship they've been building; another person to add to the list of people she's lost.

"I'm sorry, Elinor," she says quietly, before bolting out of the car and toward the buildings, only looking back to confirm that her pursuer is slowing down. At least Elinor would be safe.

#☆ // thread #☆ // elinor frell

Godscobh Task 02: Tinley's Style

For Tinley, style is about expression and creativity and impressing those around you. She loves the idea of creating something new out of the old, playing around with interesting textures and patterns and fabrics, adding flair to even the most basic of items, and repurposing pieces. She favors lots of layering, a color scheme of greens, yellows, and browns, and gold jewelry. Her wardrobe consists entirely of clothes handmade by her or thrifted pieces she modified.

A basic outfit if she knows she's going to be running around and working would involve her hair in a bun, a pair of denim shorts, scuffed up tennis shoes, a top that's cute but functional, and the gold star necklace she's always wearing.

If she had to describe her style in a few words, she'd say it's eclectic and relaxed, a sort of flowy, whimsical, boho look.

#☆ // musing #godscobhtask #godscobhtask02

spendfcrever

"Something stupid like stalking us?" The biting words are out of Elinor's mouth before they can think better of them. It's not necessarily an anger at the blonde personally, but they were positive this could only end in a car crash or an arrest, and they knew Tinley didn't need that heat right now. Elinor didn't need that heat, well, ever. The teacher's fists gripped the wheel even tighter, speeding up to match highway speeds. Are they going to have to get new tags, a new license plate after this?

"We've been driving for like 30 minutes, Tinley, what is he possibly getting out of this besides scaring the hell out of us?" And how long had he been trailing them? They'd noticed it back near the thrift shop and just kept driving, but had the car been following since Tinley's apartment? Elinor's house?

acommonfairy

Tinley's rising panic made her heart pound at a dangerously fast rate, and her natural instinct to just run from it all was screaming at her the loudest of all her racing thoughts.

Her friendship with Elinor was probably over, a thought that stung too much to linger on, but she deserved it after the danger she'd put them in. The only thing she could do now was make sure Elinor made it out of this safely.

Which meant she needed to remove Elinor from the situation entirely.

"Okay! Okay, maybe I underestimated this guy's level of craziness. Just . . . pull off the highway, get somewhere near buildings, and I'll jump out. He'll stop following you, and I can try to lose him on foot."

#☆ // thread #☆ // elinor frell

allxtted

Leticia would've welcomed Tinley in no matter what, but she's especially quick about it since she doesn't want ice and rain getting into the threshold. Tinley's normally blonde hair is soaked to a dark tone, dripping on the wood floors, so she throws a towel and a blanket at her simultaneously. One for warmth, the other to not make a mess.

"Um, yeah, you're not going back out in that," Leticia kind of read the offer to "catch up" as a lie, but not an important one to pick away at, "Unless it lets up within the hour, you're staying here tonight."

The decision is made with care, but not Tinley's input. It's the sort of direction that comes off cold, but comes from a place of concern and tenderness within Leticia.

"Do you want hot chocolate or tea?"

acommonfairy

Tinley gives Leticia a grateful smile, quickly moving to towel off and wrap herself in the cozy warmth of the blanket. For a moment, she burrows into the fabric, breathing in the familiar scents of Leticia's detergent and her apartment. For a moment, a sense of safety washes over her, not unlike the glimpses of it she'd experienced when Leticia had been her foster sister.

She rolls her eyes good-naturedly at Leticia's familiar overbearance, but doesn't push back against her insistence that she stay. She doesn't particularly want to go back out into the weather, anyways. Or whatever else might be waiting for her.

"Tea, always," she says, her smile lingering. It feels nice to be cared for, even if she won't trust in it lasting. She follows Leticia toward her kitchen, holding the blanket tight around her. "So, if we're having a sleepover, does that mean we're about to break out the face masks and truth or dare?"

#☆ // thread #☆ // leticia moirai

tootleloo-timothy

Tim picks at his ice cream in the silence, trying to calm himself. Just because he worries about Tinley doing this, doesn't mean he can get mad at her about it. Especially if Peter's in on it.

"I know you've got it," he says. "I'm still gonna worry about you. I worry about all the Boys."

He gently kicks her foot as a show of understanding.

acommonfairy

Tinley returns Tootles' kick, and a soft, affectionate smile grows on her lips. The understanding settles in that he's not upset because he doesn't believe in her, but because he cares, and she knows she's lucky to have that. The thought calms her.

"Yeah," she says as she scoops her bowl back up, stirring her spoon through the melting ice cream. "Me too."

#☆ // thread #☆ // timothy leeson

tootleloo-timothy

Tim scowls and pulls the bandage taut. He doesn't look at Tinley for fear that he'll get more angry.

"My recklessness? That's what we're going with? Not the shit plan that got scrambled even more because of something we couldn't have planned for? My recklessness..."

He scoffs and looks over himself in the mirror. He thinks he got his ribs as secured as they can be. He tries to take a deep breath but winces. Not as bad as the laugh but still painful. He sees her pacing in the reflection and his anger deflates a bit. Obviously this is a horrible situation and their coping mechanisms are not compatible in this moment.

"Do I have any bad cuts on my back?" He hopes giving her a task will help her settle and they won't snipe at each other the whole night. They'll have to check in with Peter eventually which is already enough anxiety for them to deal with.

acommonfairy

Tootles' anger pours fuel on the fire burning in Tinley. Part of her wants to shake him by the shoulders, to get him to just understand.

She came so close to losing everyone she cared about tonight, she can feel how close they all came, can see it in their injuries that could have been so much worse, all for some stupid, unnecessary carelessness.

"Yes, your recklessness! The timing of the raid sucked, but we could have been out of there in time if you guys didn't have to go off-script and trash the place! And you, putting yourself at risk by yourself, what were you thinking?" She shakes her head. "Actually, don't answer that, you obviously weren't thinking."

The mention of his cuts makes her pause her pacing. Her anger's still at a simmer, but it doesn't override her concern. Helping him is the distraction she needs right now, something tangible she can do, and he knows it. She looses a long sigh that sounds more like a growl. "Let me see," she says through gritted teeth.

She winces when she takes in the state of his back. Most of the cuts are shallow, but there's a deeper gash on his right side.

Her movements are sharp and jerky from the anger and fear she's holding back. "You have a few cuts," she says as she rips open a pack of sterile wipes. "But nothing too bad."

#☆ // thread #☆ // timothy leeson

pinocchiogc

Whether or not she was being serious about it or just playing with him, the thought that there may actually be a man that runs butt-naked through Olympian Gardens out there is just so comical to him that he cannot help but to laugh about it.

Well, now. The young man may not know where these Olympian Gardens are or how to find them, but he does know that he absolutely has to see that for himself.

When she tells him, next, that he should be okay here if he knows how to protect himself, there is something that crosses his expression. Some manner of unreadable emotion that makes him stand a little taller. More confident. More sure of himself.

“I can. I am,” he answers, and it surprises even himself to hear how certain he had sounded of that.

As soon as she brings up the thought of work, however, he is forced to keep himself from making a face about it. While it may be true that he doesn’t know much about what she might have in mind for him, he knows that it probably involves both effort and diligence on his part — two qualities he knows to be lacking in himself, and that he knows he is utterly uninterested in developing.

But, at the same time… Even he has to admit that he does need the money. Badly.

“That depends…” he bites, cautious, shoving his hands into his pockets and shifting his weight back and forth between his feet. “What did you have in mind?”

@acommonfairy

acommonfairy

P's response—the confidence that overtakes him, something in his expression—makes Tinley still. If she'd seen a kernel of Lost Boy in him before, that, that was full-blown Lost Boy. There's no mistaking it. She nods, more to herself. It's like he wordlessly answered the question she's been turning in her mind: Do you have what it takes?

She senses . . . maybe a hesitance at the mention of work? He's a wanderer. Maybe he doesn't like the idea of a routine, structured job—which she couldn't blame him for.

"Well, it's not your typical work. A friend of mine, Peter, he . . . dapples in a lot of different areas, and sort of takes people in. He could put you on some odd jobs, just to see if you'd like it."

She has to play this carefully—she can't exactly go spouting off about joining a gang, and she's not about to start sounding like some cult member-fanatic gushing about how he would love to join their family.

But she can really see him fitting in with the Boys. And knowing what it was like to go from wandering adrift in the world to having a home and family for the first time, she wants to give P the same.

"I could talk to him, set you guys up with a meeting. You'd have a lot of freedom. What you do would depend on where what you want to do and your skills meet."

#☆ // thread #☆ // p

peterpevensiegc

“I may not know what you have been told about me before or what your experiences have led you to expect from a man in my position, Miss Bell, but I assure you: You have not met my like before. As far as I am concerned, you are a citizen of Godscobh as any other, therefore it is my responsibility to be certain that you are well taken care of when in my custody — regardless of what you may or may not have done.”

Peter allows these words to linger in the air between them for a moment before politely averting his gaze, granting her a respite from his gaze so that she, hopefully, may come to feel less watched and scrutinized. If she does not wish to accept the olive branches that he has offered her, he will not insist upon it any further and will proceed with the interrogation as intended — that does not mean he wishes her to be uncomfortable, however.

“I would like to begin my questioning by asking you to state your full name and your whereabouts on the night of the New Year, if you please.”

@acommonfairy

acommonfairy

Tinley takes in the sheriff's words, watching him with narrowed eyes. She can hear the conviction in his tone—he seems to genuinely believe what he's saying. She doesn't believe it, but whatever helps you sleep at night, and all that . . .

It's a nice sentiment, though, the claim that he'd treat her no differently than any other Godscobh citizen.

When he looks away, she breathes out a quiet sigh, rubbing at her temples for a moment, grateful for a moment free of scrutinization before the true interrogation.

As Peter begins his questioning, the seriousness of it lands on her, feeling almost like a tangible weight. She ignores it, not letting a hint of nerves show.

"Now, Sheriff, I thought it was your job to know these things." She tsks, shaking her head. "Tinley Bell, pleasure to make your acquaintance. I was at home on New Year's Eve with a bottle of champagne. You know they didn't even show the ball drop this year? So disappointing."

#☆ // thread #☆ // peter pevensie

theuglyducklinggc

Hannah half-stumbles before she catches herself as Tinley tugs her along. A laugh, unexpected and unbidden, bubbles out of her throat as she does so. It felt so familiar. Like putting on a pair of old shoes and finding that they fit better than anything she'd ever worn before in her life. Broken in in all the right places.

She's still worried, of course she is, because this behavior could get dangerous quickly. This could escalate. But if it does, it's better for Hannah to be there to catch Tinley if she falls. And it's not like Hannah is above a little petty crime. Breaking and entering used to be one of her best skills. This was nothing but a little harmless fun.

"Now that sounds perfect." She grabs her keys with her free hand on her way out, sliding them into the pocket of her coat. "Though I'm not sure it'll be much of a picnic if the food is late night Taco Bell instead of a fancy charcuterie board."

acommonfairy

Tinley gasps in mock offense. "Now Hannah, you should know late night Taco Bell hits better than anything else. That's fine dining."

The thrill of a night full of possible adventures courses through her veins as they step outside, breathing in the crisp air that smells like rain on pavement from the earlier storm. It makes her want to run down the street, to scream at the sky. It's the wildness she felt as a kid, that not-quite-human feeling after a day of running loose outside, like she was just another creature of the forest, made of earth and open skies. It brings to mind scraped knees and tangled hair and muddied clothes, all often earned with Hannah by her side.

The thought sparks an idea in her, and she stops, whirling to face Hannah. "What if we drop by the old playground first? I think it would be a perfect night to go swinging."

#☆ // thread #☆ // hannah fowl

allxtted

"Not allowed?" Sloane's voice comes out in an exclamation at first, then she remembers that she should probably be quiet. Can't have them getting caught so soon! Tinley was being so cool about it!

"No, no, it's fine, I can be cool about it. It's just weird to be out so late, I'm usually in bed by 8, unless I have homework," She replies, then realizes it makes her sound super lame. Didn't she have any kind of social life before moving here? Sort of, but she's already putting so much trust in Tinley to even bring her out here. It's hard to talk about anything more when they're still just getting to know each other.

"Aren't we going to get our fingers pinched?"

acommonfairy

Tinley laughs at the initial alarm in Sloane's response. She's enjoying this, pushing at Sloane to find out what makes her tick, digging for cracks in her facade.

She raises a brow. "Not much of a partier, are we?" Maybe it's a false front, something she tells people to cover up her nighttime activities. Or maybe she is that . . . wholesome. She snorts at that thought.

"If you're careful, and pick them up from the back, maybe not. But no risk, no reward, right?"

#☆ // thread #☆ // sloane white

allxtted

When Hook had invited Tinley to work under him, he had expected to get a little pushback from the Lost Boys. If they knew anything about him trying to poach her, he could be certain to be their next target. He just didn't think it'd be at the very same time he was a police's target. How could he have missed this, or not been prepared?

It's not Tinley's fault, but someone needed to take the brunt of Hook's rage.

"You're not wrong. I knew about the crew you ran with. They got sloppy with this one, didn't they though? Not really your style."

There's a tick in his jaw as he thinks through the conversation. Usually he planned ahead, liked to be one step ahead in the conversation so that Tinley couldn't snap back. He wasn't about to let a little girl talk down to him.

"You know what that little spectacle cost me? Ships out of commission. Product ruined. Paperwork that will keep the wrong eyes on my docks for weeks. And this is reckless damage that put your crew at risk too," He spits out "crew" like venom, disdain on his lips, "It left us both in bad shape, that much is clear, but Nauticus will recover. Your gang is just endangering each other left and right, they couldn't give a fuck about which ones got picked off by the cops. If they did, they wouldn't have messed with me."

acommonfairy

They got sloppy with this one, didn't they though? Not really your style. Tinley dug her nails into her arm, and she flicked her eyes away, not wanting him to catch the annoyance that traveled through her, both at him pinpointing the truth that he knew would most bother her, and at the reminder of that truth.

"Oh boo hoo. Cry me a river," she said with an eye roll. Usually, she'd try to handle her interactions with Hook more carefully than this, knowing there was a balance between being snarky and pushing too many of his buttons. But she was running on low sleep, and her emotions felt like a bubbling mess, all at the surface where she couldn't control how they spilled out.

He was right. They'd only managed to endanger each other, meanwhile Hook would brush this off. Though it did give her a flare of smug satisfaction to hear him admit that they had cost him, in the end. It wouldn't be an easy recovery, and for that, at least, she could be happy.

That satisfaction was quickly chased down by burning anger again. She might have hated how the Boys' stunt played out, but she knew the one thing that would never change: they did care about each other. They were family first and foremost, and family sometimes made stupid decisions, but that didn't stop them from being family.

"That's rich coming from you. Your Crocs are only loyal to you for the money," she snapped. "It's not like they give a damn about each other."

#☆ // thread #☆ // james hook

Godscobh Task 01: Tinley's Social Media

Tinley doesn't care much for social media—except as a place to share her designs and chronicle her outfits via her fashion account. She loves the validation it brings, and having a larger platform for sharing her creations. Other than that, she holds a disdain for the rest of social media and really only uses her phone as a source of music, setting reminders, a notes app for jotting down all her random ideas, and a digital scrapbook of pieces of her life (though she's careful about what pieces of her life she saves). If you looked through her camera roll, you'd find that maybe she's a bit more sentimental than she'd ever admit.

#☆ // musing #godscobhtask #godscobhtask01

spendfcrever

Although Elinor's mind was racing with possibilities, the certainty with which Tinley spoke did give them some comfort. Or maybe it was the direct order to just keep driving - a command Elinor was in no place to refuse, but also gave some structure to what their options were. There weren't options, they just had to keep driving. Another right, another left, speeding up when they could justify it. Someone on the outside had to notice their crazy driving pattern soon, right? A bystander surely would notice the cars circling the same blocks in a small town.

Not if they went on the highway though. Elinor sped off on the closest entrance, hoping the further away from town they went, the less the other driver would be interested in following.

"You didn't tell me you had a stalker," The teacher pursed their lips, breathing deeply through their nose and staring blankly at the road ahead. Tinley's command rang in their head: just keep driving, just keep driving. They didn't want to accuse her of anything, but it wasn't unreasonable to smell bullshit given the situation, "This has happened before?"

acommonfairy

Tinley kept checking over her shoulder again and again, worrying at her lip until she could taste the metallic tang of blood. This whole situation was spiraling into very not ideal territory.

Further alarm spiked through her at hearing what she thought might be a hint of suspicion in Elinor's voice. Maybe she should just tuck and roll out of the car? It wouldn't be the worst of her options.

Calm, deflect, and deny, she told herself, the words becoming a mantra in the back of her mind.

"Oh, no. I don't have a stalker. It just looks like it might be that client's truck, and I put two and two together given his weird behavior. If it's him, he's pretty harmless. I just don't want to risk him doing something stupid."

#☆ // thread #☆ // elinor frell

blvewdnsdys

"why are you lying to me?" || @acommonfairy

"i'm not lying-!"

wendy's eyes would've been wider, if she had not been blinking so dumbfoundedly. she knew that the other woman found her to be a bit of a thorn for some odd reason. the circumstances in which wendy made such a grave error to get tinley's ire still eluded her, despite time and time again trying to parse together what she did wrong.

but wendy had always put her best foot forward and brushed off tinley's sharpness, not wanting any more bad blood (one sided) between the two. the brunette admired the young blond wholeheartedly.

which made the accusation of being a liar so gobsmacking. "i genuinely am asking how your day has been because i want to know. there isn't any other ulterior motive, tinley-"

acommonfairy

Of course she couldn't even grocery shop in peace, Tinley thought with an eye roll sent to the heavens when she heard Wendy's soft voice behind her.

No matter how much wide-eyed innocence Wendy poured into her demeanor, Tinley didn't buy it. It just grated on her nerves more.

There isn't any other ulterior motive. Tinley snorted, giving Wendy a once-over. Most people had ulterior motives for their actions, whether they admitted it to themselves or not, and Wendy more than likely had several.

"Sure, Wendy," she said dryly, reaching past her to grab a bag of popcorn to add to her basket. "I totally believe you."

She pasted on a bright smile and said with all the faux pep of a cheerleader, "My day's been so good! And it's even better now that you're here!" It was clear from her delivery she meant the opposite.

#☆ // thread #☆ // wendy darling

allxtted

Location and Time: 9 pm, the threshold of an apartment, knocking to be let out of the hailstorm. with @acommonfairy

Leticia had walked into the threshold of her apartment moments earlier, throwing her work bag onto her counter and shaking off her raincoat. She would've loved to just throw herself onto the couch afterwards, but the doorbell started ringing like crazy! Did she order food and forget about it?

"Tin?" Leticia opened the door to find the blonde completely soaked. She beckoned Tinley in quickly, though few coin-sized balls of ice ended up getting in too, bouncing and melting on the hardwood floors.

"What were you doing on this side of town? You look like a mess!" It sounds mean, but Leticia's intentions are caring, "Here, I'll get you a blanket."

acommonfairy

Tinley couldn't shop shivering, not just from the the wet clothes clinging to her skin, but from lingering adrenaline and nerves.

"I was supposed to meet someone over here, but they cancelled because of the hail. Since I was already in the area, I figured why not drop in and catch up?"

It's not the whole story. She was supposed to meet someone: to give a client pixie dust. Usually, she stuck to the Lost Things front for orders, but she was picking up this one for one of the Boys who was still recovering from an injury from the raid.

But she'd noticed someone following her, someone who was decidedly not the client she was supposed to meet. And then it had started hailing. Both signs Tinley needed to get out of there. She didn't want to bike across town in the hail, so stopping by Leticia's had been her best bet.

#☆ // thread #☆ // leticia moirai

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i think i can fix that.