@earnmysong asked me to share what I’m currently working on. Thanks, E! 💓 Tagging @interstellarbeams @dayas @dogmetaphors @goingfullpogue @bobsfic @broadwaybaggins
Blood on her hands, caked on her cuticles and under her nails, blood in the crease of her lifeline that she had cut so long and deep so long ago because it wasn’t going to determine her fate.
Loud and furious, the fizz and pop of hammer catching flint, and a ball leaving the muzzle of a flintlock pistol.
The roar of a tiger in the distant jungle tore through the silence but no it was her, the anger and despair burning in her throat, the stickiness of blood and tears coating her cheeks and throat, her nails scrabbling there as if to rip the pain away.
chenford + 'how the hell are we getting ourselves out of this one?'
Tim swallows and glances over at her, his lips twitching into a scowl for a moment before he neutralizes his expression. He can’t frown at her when she’s bleeding like that.
He sighs, crouching down next to her and adjusting her hands, pressing them down over the wound so she’s got actual pressure on it. He doesn’t allow himself to notice just how hard his hands are shaking. Doesn’t allow himself to notice how hard hers are, either. “Look at me,” she whispers, her tone harsh. “Right now, Tim.”
He listens, looks down at her face and feels his throat go tight. "Hi, baby."
Lucy furrows her brow at him and he can tell she's trying to fight a smile. "Hi," she returns, her voice clearly a little shakier than she wants him to hear. "Talk to me. What's the plan?"
Tim slides one of his hands over hers lightly, ghosting his palm over her knuckles. They're sticky with blood and he feels a thick, wet swath of it graze along his skin. He presses his lips together. She's bleeding more than he'd like, but not so much that he thinks it's catastrophic.
Still, the ambulance is at least 10 minutes out and they aren't cleared to move, yet. As if on cue, a loud crumbling emanates through the narrow stretch of the hallway they're trapped in and a piece of drywall lands next to Tim's boot, scuffing the side. He pushes it out of the way, away from Lucy.
This was supposed to be a quick stop-off to question a suspect before they grabbed lunch together. He was supposed to be picking french fries off her plate and casually telling her about all the things he had planned for them to do over the weekend in her incredibly empty apartment. Instead, the suspect had fled after pulling a knife on Lucy and his shitty fourth-floor walkup had started to collapse in on them.
The building, which Tim's pretty sure should be condemned, is going to come down any minute now and they need to be out of it by the time it falls. How that's going to happen, Tim has no idea.
"Baby," her voice is light, pulling him from his thoughts. "What's the plan?"
He knows she's asking for him, not for her. Lucy has a plan already, and he's sure it's a decent one. It's not what he's going to go with, because he's also sure it involves him leaving her, but it's probably decent. "The plan," he says softly, trying to keep the rest of his body still as he reaches down and brushes her hair out of her eyes, "is for you to keep up the pressure, and for me to get us out of here." Lucy frowns and he frowns back at her, albeit teasingly. "What?"
"Real plan," she urges, then sucks in a sharp breath, pressing her hands down into her skin further. The wound is just beneath her ribcage which makes the bleeding that much heavier. "Give me the real plan, please. Ambulance is how far out?"
He glances down at his watch. "Nine minutes," he casts his eyes towards the bleeding, then back up at her face. "You think you have nine minutes in you?"
"I'm not the one who can't last," she teases, and his chest tightens. "I have more than nine minutes in me, I promise."
Tim nods, looking back over his shoulder out the half broken window, straining to see if he can catch a glimpse of flashing lights or rescue vehicles. "I could do a lot with nine minutes," he murmurs, grinning when he hears her laugh. "What?"
"You planning on proving that to me later?"
"I've proven it plenty," he huffs, another crackling sending waves through the air and leaving the ground unsteady beneath this feet. He shuts his eyes and feels Lucy's leg tap against his ankle.
"Breathe," she whispers, and as much as he wants to tell her he'll breathe when they're on solid ground, he listens. "There you go."
"When did you become the voice of reason," he sighs, dipping down next to her slowly, so he won't fuck up the equilibriums of the building that he swears to god is swaying beneath them. He wonders if part of it is just his body reacting to hers, his head swimming because she's unsteady, because there's no way they're this unstable.
Lucy hums quietly. "Well, I was born in June of 19-," Tim cuts her off with a laugh and he watches as her face twists up into a smile, a real one. "We're going to be fine. I'm going to be laid up on your couch by this time tomorrow."
"My couch, huh?"
"Don't tell," she looks around conspiratorially, trying not to smile. "Your couch is more comfortable than mine."
He stares down at her, his face hard. "How much blood have you lost," he asks, serious, before cracking a smirk. He peeks out the window, then settles down next to her as carefully as possible, sliding one of his hands over hers and pressing down a bit further on her wound. "Can I tell you something?"
She hooks one of her bloody fingers around his thumb, squeezing it gently. "Anything you want."
He leans down slowly, as careful as he can, brushing his lips against her hairline. "You're the most important person I've got," he murmurs, his free hand slipping into her hair. "Even with your bad taste in furniture."
Lucy exhales a slow breath that hitches into a laugh by the end, another piece of drywall lands too close to her head for his liking. Tim smiles, kissing her gently and letting himself linger before he sits back up, admiring the smile on her lips, her eyes still closed. "You've at least cracked the top five, at this point," she hums up at him as he hears sirens hurdling toward them in the distance.
FRIEND. what're the other two 'psych' episodes apart from 'scary sherry...' that round out your top three? [i've been rewatching, and i adore 'scary sherry...' as well!]
I don't know how unpopular this opinion is, but I could watch Tuesday the 17th and Last Night Gus on repeat. In fact I have, multiple times. Them and Scary Sherry round out my top 3 just because those are my go to episodes when I've had a long day and need to unwind.
And I know you didn't ask this but other episodes in my favorite list include: Bounty Hunters, An Evening With Mr Yang, Shawn Takes a Shot in the Dark, Talk Derby to Me, Gus Walks into a Bank, Lassie Jerky, and Shawn (and Gus) of the Dead.
Sugar's pregnancy cravings are batshit; luckily, crazy food provides her Bear fam with a perfect distraction from the equally insane task of living life.
[Send me the first sentence and a pairing and I'll write the next five.]
Sugar's pregnancy cravings are batshit, but since everyone else is either an experimental chef or a fucking Fak, only Richie seems to be concerned that there might be a serious nutritional deficiency causing them. Honestly, if Sugar hadn't shown him the sonogram last week when he found her crying in the bathroom over impending motherhood ("Natalie, if I can parent a kid without completely fucking her up, you're going to make it so that your kid overcomes Pete's genes and joins Mensa!"), Richie would've driven her to the hospital to get checked for pica right now in the middle of Sugar's tirade about how far up the ass Richie will have to take it from the health inspector if he tries to explain that they didn't hire professionals because "the mold wasn't that black or moldy."
Richie's not trying to judge a pregnant woman's right to eat whatever she wants. Tiff consumed so many bananas when she was pregnant with Eva that he's still mad at himself for not buying stock in Chiquita. She'd have them sliced with her morning oatmeal, baked into bread as a post-prenatal yoga snack, smashed into PB&B sandwiches for lunch, frozen and dipped in chocolate the weekend the AC crapped out while Fak was in Philly for a Fucking Fak Family Reunion, and once even flambéed when Richie made forgive me for missing the anatomy scan because Mikey was on a bender and about to hurl himself off the State Street Bridge apology dessert. At one point, Richie had to google if banana toxicity was a thing and then kept worrying even after Google said that it wasn't.
But there's a difference between eating tons of fruit and whatever the hell is happening with Sugar's taste buds right now. Richie decides that Carmy and Sydney are using her cravings to soft launch their chaos menu once Syd puts down a plate of pickled zucchini coated in Marcus' leftover birthday cake batter, deep fried in ghee, and dusted with confectioners' sugar.
"Bet that would taste so good dipped in Smuckers ice cream topping," Fak suggests because he doesn't need to be pregnant to have the palate of a garbage compactor.
"Please don't eat that with that," Richie begs when Natalie trades Fak a bottle of Pepto for the jar of fudge he just took out of the microwave.
"Fuck off, Richie," Sugar snaps with a glare that makes it clear that she's not above murdering him and pinning it on pregnancy hormones. "I'm growing a human being inside me!"
Debatable, he wants to say because he's not entirely sure that they're in Juno instead of Alien, but Richie bites his tongue because he really doesn't want to have to put his last twenty-dollar bill in the asshole jar again.
E, my darling! Two requests? Twice as delightful! I'll put the Chenford one here, and the RoyKeeley in a separate post. Enjoy!
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26. "When was the last time your head hit a pillow?"
"Today's what ... Tuesday? So, Monday?" Tim pulls an energy drink - another energy drink - from the fridge. It's fruther proof of his exhaustion; Lucy knows he only reaches for the red, white and blue cans when the sleepless nights drag on long enough for him to feel the effects without relief.
top five tv shows that immediately activate your nostalgia?
ohhhh ooooooooooh hmmmm
buffy. always. formative!!
kim possible, because when i was my first year of undergrad and had to live in the dorms and wound up on crutches for six weeks and couldn't go anywhere i watched SO MUCH kim possible between like one and four am every day on the disney channel on my crappy dorm tv
law and order and svu, because when i had monstrous insomnia in high school i would watch them in the middle of the night because at any given point between the hours of six pm and ten am there would be at least three channels airing law and order
gilmore girls. oh how i yearn for the days when i loved this show uncritically because i was a stupid teenager
legend of korra, because i binged the entire show christmas 2014 when i had already accepted a job in nyc and was prepping to move there from los angeles and whenever i needed a break from packing i would watch more korra.
Yeah, I do. 😊 I didn't want to, I wanted to resist any romantic pairings for Skye, because I always want her to be with Ward. But enough time had passed that I had let go of holding canon to that particular wish. They had gone too far away to ever make it happen. And then Daniel Sousa came in and wrecked all my plans. 🎶 take my hand wreck my plans that's my man🎶 He just....got her. He was there to back her up and be what she needed. And if there was ever anything I wanted for Daisy it was to be loved for exactly who she is, and be #1 to someone. Gah, they are cute together. I don't think she would have been ready for someone like him before Season 7, but I am glad that's where she ended up. She deserves all the happiness.
