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half-bakedboy · 24 days

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Number 2 from the 50 cliché tropes and prompts

Your shirt/jumper was in the laundry pile and I couldn't help but steal it

Buck never understood why he had lost so many sweatshirts and button-downs to past girlfriends. Nine times out of ten, they didn't even remotely fit their figure and they were only worn in the comfort of Buck's home anyways.

Then he started staying over Tommy's house more and more. He'd always come prepared–an overnight bag filled with an extra LAFD shirt, a pair of jeans, a pair of chinos, and two shirts, one with a collar and one without–just in case he needed to rush out in the morning.

This morning, he isn’t quite as prepared as he wishes he had been. Tommy’s in the shower after sleepily kissing Buck good morning and Buck promised he’d run Hercules–Tommy’s ten-year-old retired racing greyhound–outside before Tommy dropped Buck off at work. Thunder crashes outside and rain pounds on the roof, and Buck didn’t even think to bring a jacket.

He looks around the bedroom closet, careful not to invade the private space too much, but he doesn’t see anything that might help. He knows there’s an umbrella waiting beside the door, but he’s already shivering from the chill sneaking in through the closed windows and Buck knows he’ll need something to protect his skin.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a pullover laid neatly on top of the laundry pile. It’s similar to his LAFD one, but a lighter blue that matches Tommy’s on-duty uniform. It won’t keep him dry, but it’ll keep him warm and keep the water off of his skin which is all he has time to care about. He snatches it up and shouts to Tommy that he’s taking the dog outside even though he’s not sure he’s heard.

Before he gets too far, Buck pauses to get the pullover on. The first thing he notices is how much bigger it is on him. He’s not a small guy by any means, and he’s not much smaller than Tommy–at least he thinks–but there’s so much extra fabric that he has to bundle it up at his waist. He can also tell that the back doesn’t stretch taut against his shoulder blades and that the neckline slouches a little in the front.

It’s strange to wear something so unfit for him, but at the same time, Buck can’t help but feel giddy. He glances at himself in the mirror and feels small, but not in the way he usually does. It doesn’t make him feel inconsequential or overlooked, but like he’s protected and well-loved. It stirs inside of his stomach until the joy begins to bubble in his chest.

He notices that Tommy’s name is embroidered just over his heart, and he brings his fingers there to trace over the lettering. It takes everything in him not to whisper his name combined with Tommy’s last and he wonders if this was how his old girlfriends felt when they stole his LAFD shirts that had his name brazen on the back.

Where he expected to be a bit embarrassed at the claiming nature of it all, he can’t help but feel… powerful. Yeah, there’s something powerful about wearing someone else's name, like he’s screaming to the world that Tommy is off-limits because he’s Buck’s.

He’s Buck’s.

He’s too busy thinking about what exactly that means for him to hear the bathroom door open and a freshly showered and shaved Tommy emerge. Another figure beside Buck’s reflection startles him but Tommy’s reassuring hands slide around his waist. It’s strange how normal it feels to have strong, long arms wrapped around him and a broad chest waiting to hold him up as he leans back against it.

“You’re wet,” Buck says, feeling the dampness on Tommy’s unclothed chest. He’s in sweatpants like he’s ready to lounge around for the day, but the bare skin of his upper body is clearly on display where Buck’s body isn’t hiding it. He wants to pull away just so he can take another peek.

Tommy doesn’t seem to notice nor care that Buck is analyzing them because he’s too busy doing the same. There’s something in his eyes, though, that sends an eruption of warmth to Buck’s face. Tommy tugs at the extra fabric at Buck’s waist like he’s having the same realization as Buck did, and then he slides one hand up Buck’s chest to trace his name. He whispers each letter like a secret into Buck’s ear, piercing eyes never leaving Buck’s in the mirror.

Buck shivers, pressing back against Tommy and leaning his head back so that it plops on Tommy’s shoulder comfortably. Tommy finishes his name before dragging a finger to the neckline of the pullover and letting it hang there like a weight that keeps Buck grounded.

“You’re wearing my jumper,” Tommy points out like he doesn’t already know. Buck suddenly feels anxious, like he’s made a horrible mistake, and stands back up straight. He turns to look at Tommy as he speaks.

“Is that okay? I didn’t bring a jacket so I figured—”

Tommy kisses him before he can finish, and Buck can only hope it becomes a pattern.

It’s just as soft as their first kiss and every kiss they’ve shared since then, but it grows in passion second by second. Tommy is gripping the fabric at Buck’s waist like he’s deciding whether he wants to pull it over Buck’s head or leave it on his forever. Buck holds his naked shoulders, palms sliding down the hard planes of his chest then his abs, before sliding underneath the waistband of his sweatpants.

When a cold nose hits his hand, Buck jumps back, out of breath and startled. Hercules is staring up at them like he’s let them have their fun and he’s done waiting to go outside. Tommy swipes at his face as he chuckles and Buck leans down to pat Herc’s head.

“I’m sorry, Buddy. Am I stealing all of your dad’s attention?” Buck coos, and he can almost hear Tommy’s good-natured eye roll.

“Well, if Evan here is done distracting me, I’m sure he’d be more than happy to take you outside, huh?”

“Oh, if Evan is done distracting you? Like you didn’t just walk out of the shower half-naked and damp and looking like you wanted to drop to your kn–” Buck inhales deeply when Tommy glances down then back up and raises his eyebrows. “Alright, I’m out of here. Be right back,” he promises, pressing one last kiss to Tommy’s reddened lips.

“Mhm,” Tommy hums, watching him start to walk away.

“Do you want your pullover back?” Buck asks, because he figures that’s what he would’ve wanted to be asked.

“As far as I’m concerned, it’s yours now.”

It sounds a lot like I’m yours now, but Buck doesn’t dare ask. Instead, he takes Hercules out, ignoring the storm rumbling above him, and strokes his thumb distractingly against Tommy’s name over his heart. He guesses he’s Tommy’s now, too.

(now on ao3)

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mlmxreader · 2 years

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Guys Like You & Guys Like Me | Sierra Six x m!reader

Anonymous asked: So we're both bored and the second heatwave is getting to us so how about some Six comfort fics. I've picked a few prompts that I like the look off, so have fun.

"My bedsheets smell of you and I can't... I don't think I can go back to sleeping alone"

summary: You take Six and Claire in to keep them both safe, but although you and Six try to hide it, there's no denying that guys like you definitely feel for guys like him.

tws: swearing, smoking

A very well respected and admired bounty hunter had offered Six and Claire safety and refuge, giving up part of his own home and possibly putting his own neck on the chopping block for them; but while you were happy to do such a thing, Six couldn't thank you enough for it. He had always had a soft spot for you, if there was ever a bounty hunter he would have been quite eager to date, it would have been you, but to know that you would offer him just a little bit of help meant so much more than what he ever felt for you. Sure, Claire was happy when she met the dogs, an old elderly mongrel and an old racing greyhound who acted like a puppy, just as she was when she met the snakes, a garter, a corn, a ball python, a bull, but what was more important was that when Six asked her, she admitted that she felt safe; his baby sister felt safe in such a place, and Six couldn't have been more relieved at that. Soft spot be damned, if she had said she didn't feel safe, he would have packed up their shit and immediately left.

At first, Six took up the spare master bedroom, the one between your bedroom and the small spare bedroom where Claire was, but when he couldn't sleep, you had offered him refuge in your room, and who was he to deny such a thing?

At first, it was just sleeping together. At first, it was nothing, he would help with changing the water for the snakes and he would hold them, taking great care of the bull snake especially; that one seemed to be his favourite, all five feet and five inches of predatory carnivore, and he was always the first to offer to feed him, too. At first, it was nothing. But the more Six slept in your bed with you, the more he left his scent on it, and the more comfortable you got used to it. The more Six spent cuddled into your side, the more you wished to be his, the more you wished that he would ask you to be his boyfriend. The more you started to realise that you didn't exactly want to be strictly platonic.

At first, it was nothing. But then he started to pull you into his lap when he was sat down, then he started to let you sit between his legs when you read, turning the pages for you, then he started to join you and Claire when you walked the dogs together - "Just in case anything happens. I should be there." - even though he knew that your skills were almost as good as his own. Six started to act like... like you were his boyfriend, although he never once asked the question or brought the subject up, as much as you had hoped that he would; fuck, you hoped he would ask you already, but he never seemed to bother.

The days and the nights started to get hotter and far more humid than normal, and although everything had been put into place, it didn't seem like nearly enough; fans on full blast, windows open, curtains drawn, inner doors open and the back doors put on bungees to keep them open, ice in every drink, water bottles filling the fridge more than anything else, beds stripped down to just sheets, pillows and duvet covers, damp towels on the floor for the dogs, ice cubes in their water dishes, paddling pools if they wanted to jump in. Everything was in place, and yet it didn't seem to cool down at all. Nothing worked. Nothing.

Nights started to get longer and more sleepless, as Claire took to sleeping downstairs on the sofa where it was cooler, you and Six were finding it hard to cope; you tried moving to what was supposed to be his bedroom, thinking that the snake tanks obviously had something to do with the lack of temperature adjustment, but that didn't work. You considered buying a tent and sleeping out in the garden, but you couldn't risk leaving the back doors unlocked and open all night; if you and Six had fallen asleep, and someone had seen that you were camping outside, they might have tried something. Even with the dogs there.

Sleep seemed like a luxury that neither you nor Six could afford anymore, and although you tried everything to cool down, nothing would work except passing out from nothing but being so fucking tired; which was what brought you there. Six had disappeared at around two o'clock, and you could hear the gentle hum of the kitchen fan, a pool of sweat on your back made your shirt cling to you as you sat up, groaning a little with more than disgust; you couldn't be bothered to take it off, too hot and too sweaty and too fucking tired. You rubbed your eyes, although the sweat seemed to cling to your eyelids when you stood up, and you winced a little before daring to make your way to the kitchen.

Six wasn't there, but one of the back doors was open, so you dared to creep outside; sat on the little step, Six smoked a cigarette. You smiled a little, coming to sit beside him as you cleared your throat.

"I, uh, y'know, my bedsheets smell of you and I can't... I don't think I can go back to sleeping alone anymore."

He stole a look at you, and offered you the cigarette as he dared to smile. "Sorry."

You took a drag from the cigarette, humming softly as you looked up at the dark night sky; navy blue with splatters of silver. "It's a nice night, at least. Could be fucking chucking it down with rain."

Daring to laugh quietly, Six nodded. "Yeah."

He couldn't help it, stealing another look at you; sure, he knew you would never think twice about him, you would never want to be his boyfriend in a million years but... but it was a nice thought. He looked away when you noticed his staring.

"What? Have I got something on my face?" You chuckled, such a sound was like the chriping of birds of the first day of spring to him.

But he shook his head, clearing his throat. "No, just, uh... y'know, you're really handsome."

"I get told that a lot," you teased, nudging his shoulder and flicking ash into the nearby plant pot. "I'm sure you do, too, though."

Six scoffed, running a hand through his hair and swallowing thickly; his throat started to feel clogged when he looked at you again, as if some cat had gone halfway down his throat and gotten itself stuck, all fur and claws digging into the soft flesh. He licked his lips, sighing a little as he looked away again. "Not as often as you'd think."

"Well, you are," you told him. "Any guy would be lucky to have you."

He smiled, thinking about how nice it would have been if you were that guy, if you were the guy calling him handsome and kissing him when he got home, if you were the guy saying you loved him and that you needed him and that you wanted him... but Six wasn't an idiot. He knew guys like you, handsome and smart, would never look twice at a guy like him. Guys like you never did.

"We should go back inside. It's late."

"Yeah," you sighed, chucking the cigarette away. "Yeah, n-no, you're right."

You were an idiot to think it, to think that Six would ever want you to be his boyfriend; guys like him never liked guys like you, even if you wished he did. Even if he acted like a boyfriend, he would never be one. At least, not to you.

if you liked this fic, REBLOG IT - you SHOULD reblog it; spam likers WILL be blocked. as will blogs that refuse to reblog or to give feedback. if you don't wanna reblog, then you'll get blocked; reblogging is the BARE MINIMUM. don't just "like", REBLOG

#mlem writes #sierra six #sierra six imagine #sierra six x reader #court gentry imagine #court gentry x reader #court gentry #courtland gentry x reader #courtland gentry imagine #courtland gentry #netflix the gray man #the gray man netflix #the gray man imagine #the gray man #the grey man imagine #the grey man #ryan gosling #ryan gosling imagine #ryan gosling x reader

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dontwanttobeasexyvampire · 2 years

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Brassic 4 Episode Descriptions

(x)

Series 4, Episode 1 - Getting There

It's Ringo and Babs's wedding - in deepest Wales! Erin is still in hiding, but on discovering her whereabouts, Vinnie uses the road trip as an excuse to go and get her. He also gets roped into helping Bride-to-be Babs bag a final extra-marital fling. As the gang set off on their road trip, it's soon clear that if things can go wrong, they most certainly will. A car crash, a tense encounter with the MacDonagh brothers, and a dinner of roadkill with a creepy farmer keep one half of the gang busy.

Meanwhile the other half travel in Tommo's newly converted mobile sex dungeon attempting to babysit an out-of-control Babs...

Series 4, Episode 2 - Day At The Dogs

Chinese Dan agrees to give Cardi his retired racing greyhound, "Arson Fire". Cardi is delighted with his newfound friend and promptly christens him Martin, while the gang see a cash opportunity and hatch a plan to get the dog racing again. But training is interrupted when Martin runs off into the woods and returns with a human foot. Who on earth could've lost a foot? Vin goes to Gary the undertaker for some help.

Meanwhile, Martin starts to have some success at the races when the gang realise he'll run faster when it's Cardi's scent involved.

Series 4, Episode 3 - Lost In The Woods

What should have been a fun, lads-only camping trip to the local woods, turns out to be a nightmare when the gang end up horrendously lost.

As night falls, Tommo suffers the violent effects of eating wild berries, Dylan is consumed by paranoia after a few lines of coke and Cardi is limping with an injured ankle. As the lads turn against each other, they start to hear strange noises and panic that they might not be alone. And then they glimpse hooded figures with torches moving through the trees...

Series 4, Episode 4 - Exotic Zoo

Davey McDonagh invites Vinnie, Dylan and Tommo to a lavish party at the home of his distributor, an eccentric animal-lover called Manolito. But when Manolito offends Vinnie, the gang decide to get revenge by raiding his cherished exotic zoo. It's less than straightforward as they try to shift a load of squawking beasts, but things get really hairy when Davey McDonagh realises what's happened and quickly points the finger at Vinnie.

Series 4, Episode 5 - Amy

Erin is determined to raise some cash for the struggling local community centre by organising a charity fete. But then a young woman called Amy turns up in Hawley, announcing that she is Erin's half-sister.

Reeling from the bombshell, Erin welcomes Amy in as they plan the fete together and go on a girl's night out, but is Amy everything that she claims to be?

Meanwhile, Vinnie and the lads plan a heist of the botanical gardens to steal a rare and valuable rose.

Series 4, Episode 6 - Murder Mystery

After a tip-off from Dr Chris, Vinnie and the gang don some fancy dress and join a posh murder mystery evening at a stately home to gain access to its cellars stocked with valuable vintage wine.

While Vinnie and Jim break into the cellars and steal the wine, the rest of the gang are meant to be distracting the guests upstairs. But things don't go to plan when they get a little too drawn into the game!

Series 4, Episode 7 - An Unexpected Guest

Vinnie discovers an elderly woman hiding in the woods near his shack and takes her under his wing, but things get complicated when it turns out that malicious Davey MacDonagh is looking for her with ill intent.

The gang hide her in their weed grow, and they all settle in and get cosy. But Erin soon reminds them that it isn't safe for her in Hawley. Will they manage to get their new friend to safety without Davey finding out?

Series 4, Episode 8 - Davey's House

Having let their prisoner slip through their fingers the MacDonaghs are on the war path and convinced that the gang had something to do with it.

Vinnie wants out and tries to strike a deal with Manolito to cut out the MacDonaghs. But there's is a snag - Davey has a USB of incriminating evidence against Manolito and has been blackmailing him for years. If Vinnie wants to sell directly to Manolito, he and the gang need to break into Davey's house and steal that USB back...

#brassic #brassic 4 #brassic spoilers

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bitter69uk · 3 years

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Recently watched: The Price of Fear (1956). Tagline: “Hour by hour the net of terror tightens!” I’m using this period of enforced social isolation to explore the weirder corners of YouTube for long forgotten and obscure movies. (My boyfriend is accompanying me only semi-willingly).

The direction is merely efficient. The acting is mostly stilted. The two stars are arguably past their prime. So why is this undistinguished film noir – an examination of cowardice, fatalism and the consequences of bad decisions - so diverting? Opening at a greyhound racing track at night, The Price of Fear concisely establishes a jittery, grubby ambiance. On the soundtrack, a narrator’s voice mansplains – I mean, sets the scene: “This dog track has nothing to do with the story. But without it there wouldn’t be any story. Because a racketeer’s desire to get control of it set forces in motion that caused a man and a woman who’d never met and were not likely ever to meet to converge on each other like an express train – and with the same result.”

The man is David Barrett (Lex Barker). “Half owner of the track. Honest. Altogether a decent guy.” His business partner Lou Belden, though, is less scrupulous – and is in cahoots with local gangster Frankie Edare (Warren Stevens), who’s keen to muscle in on their action. Unwisely, Barrett publicly threatens Belden (“So help me, if I ever lay eyes on you again, I’ll kill you!”) in a restaurant crowded with witnesses. (Conveniently, all conversation hushes just before he says this). When Belden gets murdered that same night, the innocent Barrett inevitably finds himself under suspicion and goes on the run. But things are about to get even worse!

The woman is Jessica Warren (Merle Oberon). “A lovely businesswoman. Desirable. Successful. Above reproach.” We see her glamorously departing a ritzy cocktail lounge in formal attire complete with one of those fox stoles with the heads still attached. “She has devoted her life to her work and the greatest success of her career is within her reach. And tonight, she is celebrating.” Celebrating? Jessica is frankly inebriated when she climbs into her convertible, and within no time she’s involved in a hit and run incident! Panicking, she speeds away from the scene before checking whether her victim – an elderly man walking his dog – is dead or alive.

Guilt-stricken, Jessica begins to anonymously report the accident by payphone. But while she’s in the phone booth, Barrrett jumps out of a taxicab and “borrows” her car to evade Edare’s henchmen on his tail. Seizing this stroke of luck, Jessica instead reports her car as stolen. So now in addition to being wanted for murder, Barrett looks like HE killed the pedestrian, too. And Jessica’s story suddenly overlaps with the world of low-life organized crime. Now being blackmailed by opportunistic sleazebag Edare, the desperate Jessica initially tries to frame Barrett for the hit and run – but they end up falling in love! This can’t end well …

Intrigued? Read more of my musings on this overlooked noir (and diva Merle Oberon’s gloriously stiff, frosty performance) here.

#the price of fear #film noir #merle oberon #lobotomy room #bad movies we love #bad movies for bad people

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gamblepetclinic · 7 years

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January Breed of the Month

The Belgian Sheepdog

Meet our January breed of the month—The Belgian Sheepdog!

The Belgian Sheepdog is also known as the Groenendael or Chien de Berger Beige in many other parts of the world. This breed can be traced to the late 1800’s when it was listed under the group Continental Shepherds (Chien de Berger de Races Continentales). The Continental Shepherds have now been broken into many different distinct breeds such as the Belgian Shepherds (Groendendael, Malinois, Tervuren, and Laekenois), German Shepherds, Beauceron, Briards, and Hollander Herders.

This elegant and strong breed distinguished itself on the battlefields of World War I. They served as message carriers, ambulance dogs, and even pulled machine guns. Due to this background, it’s no wonder that this breed performs so well in obedience, tracking, and herding. They are also known for being excellent workers as guide dogs, search and rescue, and therapy dogs. Although they were first registered in the U.S. in 1911, they weren’t well known until after the war. They are highly trainable and are well known for their work ethic and versatility. Due to their high drive and intelligence, this breed tends to be happiest when they are given plenty of jobs to do. Owners of this breed have stated that they get along well with gentle children and do best in country or suburban areas.

This breed is generally easy to identify as it only has one or two coat color variations. Most members have sleek black fur while others have limited white patches. Their long black coat does require weekly brushing to help remove mats and tangles. A rubber tipped pin brush and a greyhound comb have been found to work best on the Belgian Sheepdog’s coat. Their large, upright ears should also be checked regularly to avoid the buildup of debris that could cause an infection.

Every breed has health concerns that owners should be aware of when choosing which breed to bring home. For this breed, problems that have been seen include cancer, epilepsy, hip and elbow dysplasia, and cataracts. While these health issues can be found across all pedigree lines, responsible breeders will try to reduce the likelihood of these occurrences by completing health clearances on their breeding stock. Since many of these traits are more complex than the typical dominant or recessive genetic traits, it can be hard to identify them in the breeding stock unless they are showing symptoms. The above genetic issues are rarely unmanageable and are many times more inconvenient to the owners than to the dogs.

Don’t just take our word for it. One of our employees, Kayliana, owns a Belgian Sheepdog named Jergo and has this to say about them:

“A Belgian Sheepdog is intelligent, has high amounts of energy, and is best known for its prancing, horse-like trot! They require frequent physical exercise and plenty of mental stimulation, and can be known to have a bit of a stubborn streak! Jergo is unlike any dog we’ve ever had before, and we have learned a lot from owning him! Sometimes, we feel as if he is two or three steps ahead of us when we are trying to train him!

A Belgian Sheepdog tends to be a one person/family dog. They tend to be a little aloof to strangers, or bark at them to alert their owners. It required frequent socialization as a puppy for Jergo to be around other dogs and he still shows dominant traits when in their presence. However, he is very good with our cats, small children, the elderly, and people who he senses need a delicate touch. One of the major things we have learned about having a Belgian Sheepdog is how much grooming they require. Due to their double coats, they shed little throughout the year but will have a two-four week period when their coat is “blowing out”. While they need frequent brushing year round, during these two shedding periods they lose all the soft, downy fur and can be prone to getting mats. Using a shop vacuum set to reverse helps to blow the under coat out, and a good groomer with the right tools can help facilitate the process!

The most difficult aspect of owning a Belgian Sheepdog, for us, was finding one! We had been in love with the breed for years and ended up on a breeder’s waiting list for two years before being able to get our puppy! They often range in the high hundreds to thousands to purchase a purebred, but a good breeder will screen their problem areas - the eyes, elbows, and hips - among other things to make the price worth it!”

Information courtesy of the American Kennel Club; Pictures courtesy of Kayliana and “Jergo”

#veterinary breedofthemonth dogsoftumblr belgiansheepdog

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bitter69uk · 3 years

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The Price of Fear (1956). Tagline: “Hour by hour the net of terror tightens!” I’m using this period of enforced social isolation to explore the weirder corners of YouTube for long forgotten and obscure movies. (My boyfriend is accompanying me only semi-willingly).

Intrigued? Read the rest on my blog – including my appreciation of screen diva Oberon’s gloriously stiff, ill-at-ease performance.

#the price of fear #film noir #bad movies we love #bad movies for bad people #kitsch #vintage sleaze #merle oberon

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