#a report from like... a week or two ago? basically even said like... no work is really being done

[ramp-it-up]

FMK

Summary: Bucky takes you for a ride, extending the game you introduced him to.

Word count: 2.8 K

Pairing: Thunderbolts* Bucky Barnes x Reader

A/N: Even though I've done Congressman Bucky, I feel like this is my first Thunderbolts* Bucky Barnes. I think I love him. Give me all the feedback, good, bad, or ugly! Reblog, comment, and like.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Read at your own risk. All mistakes my own. Smut! Thunderbolts* Bucky, Bucky on his bike (Y'all know that's a warning), man out of time, Bucky and his staring problem, picnic, semi-public sex, sloppy oral (m receiving) grinding, woman on top, raw p in v, praise kink, SIZE KINK, Doll as a nickname. This is basically porn with plot.

I do not have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

------

Bucky stood in front of the mirror, tugging at the collar of his worn leather jacket for the third time. But it wasn’t the fabric bothering him; it was the twitch in his fingers.

Combat never rattled him like this.

Underneath the black leather and tousled hair, beneath the facade of calm and control, was a man barely holding it together. He was chaos underneath the restraint on the outside.

Because this wasn’t just any day.

He’d been planning this for weeks. Quietly tucking away ideas and perfect details. Not to impress you, not exactly. But because you deserved perfect.

And because for the first time in his life, he wanted to be perfect. For someone.

For you.

Two months. That’s all it took. Two months since he asked you out, and you’d already rewired him. Threaded yourself through his bloodstream. Burned through walls he didn’t even know he’d built.

You saw past the metal, past the missions, past the wreckage of who he used to be. When he was with you, the blood stopped screaming in his ears. You weren’t just his safe place. You were his secret.

The one thing he didn’t report back to Valentina, or anyone.

Even though some of the first words out of your mouth to him were, “.... fuck... me?” you were surprisingly sweet. And good.

He didn’t want to get you dirty.

But lately, when you kissed him, it wasn’t sweet anymore.

It was desperate.

Your sweet mouth had turned to molten honey. Your hands held on to him like you were afraid he’d vanish, the kind of touches that said, I need you. The kind that made him ache to give in.

And every time, he restrained himself. You were worth waiting for. But God, he was unraveling. One touch, one look from you, and he was on fire.

He grabbed the helmet he bought for you, ran a hand through his hair, and said to himself, “You’ve got this, Barnes.”

Then he tried, and failed, to ignore how your needy little sounds haunted him every time he closed his eyes.

The night before was just supposed to be an innocent movie night. But you ended up in his lap, grinding that hot little pussy on his thigh, your jeans soaked through while he sat there hard as a rock, hands clenched around your thighs, jaw tight to keep from begging for mercy. He’d almost snapped.

Almost.

But you deserved more than almost. And today, he was going to take you somewhere no one else could find you. Feed you, hold you, maybe fuck you until you forgot your own name.

—

The low, thunderous purr of his bike echoed down your street, and your pulse picked up before you even saw him. The sound of Bucky on his bike always sent a rush straight between your thighs.

You’d barely made it to the door before he was pulling up, black leather, sinful jeans, and sunglasses hiding those sky-blue eyes made you want to get undressed before a word left your mouth.

You first saw him on that bike two months ago. He pulled up to your neighborhood gas station while you were filling up. You lived quite a ways from the city, and you imagined that he had ridden until he ran out of gas.

You’d imagined quite a few things about Bucky Barnes, as hot as he was, but you never thought you’d actually be in the same space as him. 

You tried not to stare. But when you looked up, he was staring at you. His eyes were locked on you, steady and unblinking. And it wasn’t a passing glance. It was full on distracted, intense staring.

Truth was, Bucky was already gone for you. You just didn’t know it yet.

You swallowed your nervousness and decided to shoot your shot. You tilted your head playfully. 

“Should I be worried? You look like you’re trying to decide whether to fuck, marry, or kill me.”

It short-circuited him. He blinked and stammered as his cheeks flushed.

“Uh… definitely not kill,” he managed, voice rough.

“Maybe marry… one day.”

He’d looked away like he’d said too much. 

You grinned. “So that leaves fuck.”

His throat bobbed.

“Yeah. Probably that too. But I’m gonna need to work for it.”

You’d liked that answer. Liked it too much. You laughed, shaking your head.

“Glad to hear it.”

Bucky looked cool on the surface, but inside he was raw as hell. He was acutely aware of how little he really knew, how much he wanted to catch up, to be able to be with you in every sense. 

It was insane, he just met you, but inside, he thought: I want you to fuck me, marry me, and kill me with your love. He wondered if you would agree to that, one day.

He wondered if you knew who you were talking to.

Bucky opened his mouth like he wanted to say more but settled for a shy smile instead. 

Then, lowering his voice just enough, he murmured, “You know who I am, right?”

You shrugged, not scared of him. “Who doesn’t?”

His smile softened.  

“Still. Thanks for talking to the guy who stared at you for a full minute like a dumbass at a Shell station.”

You leaned against your car, sipping your coffee. 

“Well, dumbass or not... I like the view.”

Bucky chuckled, summoned pre-war James Barnes, then pulled out his phone. 

“Can I have your number, Doll?”

You grinned and took another sip, his sudden panty-dropping look doing something to you.

“Aren’t you a super hero or something with unlimited resources?”

Bucky’s eyes scanned your form, then back up to your face.

“You know what…?”

He narrowed his eyes at you, went around your car and typed in your license plate. Within a minute, his phone buzzed and then turned it to you to show your contact information on his screen.

“Impressive.”

“Yeah. Guess I don’t need to kill or marry you to get your number.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Wait. What about fuck? You just left that one out.”

Bucky blinked.

“Uh... yeah. Forgot that one.”

No he didn't. Not by a longshot.

You grinned and got into your car, rolling down the window before you drove off.

“If you use that number, maybe I’ll remind you of it one day.”

—--

After a week of texting, and two months of dating, along with a night of will he? or won’t he?, Bucky showed up at your front door. The question of if last night affected him was suddenly answered. 

Bucky Barnes was your wet dream. The actual wet dream you had last night after he pulled away yet again. And now, he was leaning against his bike like he owned the world and all your future orgasms.

“Hey, Doll,” he rumbled, voice deep and sexy.

Your smile grew. 

“Hey yourself. What’s the occasion?”

He stepped close, like he couldn’t not touch you.

“Thought I’d steal you for a bit. Got a spot. No one around. Pretty view.” 

He lifted a saddlebag.

“Packed us a picnic.”

Your brow rose.

“A picnic? A ride on your bike? You trying to kill me?”

He gave you that rare laugh that he told you only you could pull from him. 

“No, ma’am. Got you a helmet. You’re safe with me.”

The look he gave you made you think otherwise. 

“I just thought maybe we could use some sunshine, some food, and some time alone.”

The way he said that last word nearly made your knees buckle.

You swallowed.

“I’d like that a lot.”

Bucky’s smile turned soft, but the heat behind his eyes said otherwise. Then he pulled out the helmet. 

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he said, stepping close enough to buckle it for you himself. 

“Let me take you somewhere I don’t gotta share you with the rest of the world.”

—

You clung to Bucky like you'd been riding with him for years, your thighs pressed flush against his hips, your chest pressed to his back. Every bump in the road made your clit pulse. Every lean into a curve made you press tighter, grinding down just enough to feel it where you needed it.

The growl of the bike between your legs had you aching and needy. He wasn’t even touching you, but you were already soaked. When he finally turned off-road into a secluded clearing overlooking a still lake, you were seconds from begging.

The engine cut. Silence fell. He turned to you, voice husky.

“Still with me?”

You nodded, breathless.

“Definitely.”

He helped you off the bike, hands dragging a little longer over your hips. You felt the heat in his touch, the restraint in his muscles. Then he grabbed the basket and blanket, heading toward the overlook.

“Promise it’s worth it,” he said over his shoulder, but his eyes were already locked on you, not the view.

You sat close. Too close. His thigh against yours. His fingers brushing yours as he handed over a drink. His knuckles grazed your knee. Every contact was a tease and a promise.

“This really is perfect,” you murmured. “You’ve been holding out on me.”

“Was saving it for you.”

Your heart flipped. The air thickened. 

“So what now? You charm me with snacks and sunlight? Then kill me?”

“Why do you keep going with that option?” he asked with another low laugh.

His eyes dropped  to your lips, then back up to your eyes.

“What about the other two?”

You had thoroughly explained the game to Bucky using him, Walker, and Bob, and Bucky hadn’t seemed to like those examples. You’d said Fuck Walker, Marry Bob and kill Bucky, just so you could say you defeated the Winter Soldier. You were teasing, but Bucky hadn’t thought it was funny.

Especially the part about Walker. You had to kiss him for a half hour before he forgave you.

But now you smiled at him angelically.

“You wanna marry me, Bucky?”

Bucky got serious. 

“Yeah, but that’s beside the point.”

He reached for you and pulled you onto his lap and kissed you as your mouth dropped open in surprise. He didn’t let you dwell on his statement for long.

“Let’s stop pretendin’ we haven’t been thinkin’ the same damn thing for weeks, Doll.”

And what’s that?” you whispered, already knowing.

His hand came up to trace your jaw and draw you even closer.

“You. Me.” 

His lips brushed your throat. 

“The way you sound when I touch you…” 

A kiss, lower now. 

“...the way you taste when I get my tongue in your mouth...” 

Another kiss, higher. 

“...and the way you ride my thigh like you’re tryin’ to make me lose my fuckin’ mind.”

You whimpered and rolled your hips instinctively against the solid ridge under you. He felt massive.

“Bucky…” 

The way you said his name broke him.

When he laid back, you climbed over him, his cock thick and hard beneath his jeans, throbbing under you. You ground against it, chasing friction, and Bucky growled.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “You feel that, Doll? That’s what you do to me.”

His hands found your waist, sliding under your shirt. When he cupped your breasts, thumbs brushing your nipples, you arched into him with a broken gasp.

“All those nights,” he rasped, “I went home and fucked my fist thinking about the way you sound.”

You whimpered. 

“I did worse.”

He stopped moving, your words were getting him close and he didn’t want to cum in his pants like a schoolboy.

“I touched myself the second the door closed. Couldn’t wait. I was dripping for you, Bucky.”

He groaned like it hurt. “Jesus, Doll.

Your fingers shook as you freed him, thick and leaking, the head flushed. You lowered your head, kissed the thick, hot tip, and licked slowly up his shaft.

He cursed, hand flying to your hair.

“Fuck. You're gonna kill me.”

You took him deeper, sucked harder and watched him lose composure with every flick of your tongue.

Bucky watched you with hooded eyes.

“Been a long time, Doll. ‘M sensitive. If you dont want- fuckkkk!”

When you gagged just a little, he growled and came hard, jerking in your mouth, spilling super soldier cum on your tongue, your lips, and down your chin.

His body trembled beneath you and his chest heaved. He looked up at you, eyes glassy.

“Oh, you’re so getting fucked.”

He pulled you up, wiped your chin, and kissed you deeply, tasting himself on your tongue. Then he slid his hand into your leggings and cupped your soaked pussy. 

“You’re fuckin’ drenched, Doll,” he rasped. “Is this all for me?”

“Yes, Bucky,” you gasped. “Please.”

His fingers played, skating in your warm, slick folds. Bucky groaned, his cock waking up again. He looked down at you and chuckled. 

“Apparently, there’s no down time with you. You’re gonna be the death of me, Doll.”

You got each other naked, not rushing now. 

“You’re so beautiful,” you whispered.

He flushed, but his hands found your waist again.

Golden hour spilled across the clearing as he lay back and pulled you over him.

And when you started to move, he murmured, “Ride me, sweetheart. Don’t hold back.”

You started writhing softly, teasing your slick folds over the hard line of him, letting your arousal coat him as your hips rolled. It wasn't exactly where he wanted to be, which was buried deep inside you, but just feeling your wet pussy lips slide over his cock caused Bucky’s breath to leave him. His hands gripped your waist like he needed something to anchor him, like he might float away if he didn’t hold you tight.

Bucky was so close, so soon. He could so easily position you to slide his hot cock right on into that juicy nirvana that was your cunt and which was leaking deliciously all over him. 

“Doll,” he warned, voice hoarse, barely tethered. “You keep that up, I’m gonna lose it.”

You smirked down at him and leaned in to whisper against his mouth, “That’s the point.”

Then you shifted, one slow, aching glide down, taking him inside inch by thick inch. His jaw locked. His eyes rolled back. And then they snapped open to watch you, stunned.

“Fuck me,” he gasped, hands sliding to your hips, desperate now. 

“You feel…Christ…you feel like heaven.”

You rocked your hips, just enough to test the stretch, which was glorious, and Bucky groaned, head dropping back as his metal hand flexed, then clutched your hip with bruising pressure. The veins in his neck stood out. His thighs trembled under you.

He was gorgeous.

You moved slowly at first, watching him come undone beneath you, every stuttered breath, every low, broken sound, your reward. His cock throbbed inside you, thick and heavy, and the friction was maddening. You braced your hands on his chest and rode him, grinding down until your clit brushed the coarse hair at the base of him, until the pressure coiled sharp and tight in your belly.

“Look at me,” he rasped, and when you met his eyes, wild and so blue and so wrecked, something inside you shattered.

Because it wasn’t just lust. It was everything. Want and need and wonder mixed with a little desperation. 

And something like love.

His voice dropped to a whisper, “Been dreamin’ about this. Every night. You on top of me, takin’ what you want. Drippin’ all over me.”

You whimpered, angling your hips to take him deeper, and when he felt it, he grunted like he’d been punched in the gut.

“Just like that, baby. That’s it.”

The praise made you clench around him. You moved faster, chasing it, and Bucky met your rhythm, fucking up into you, hard and deep. The slap of skin on skin echoed in the quiet clearing and neither of you cared if anyone heard.

Your orgasm hit fast and hard, curling your spine as your cunt fluttered around him, and Bucky cursed, holding you through it, grounding you with one hand on the small of your back and the other tangled in your hair as he sat up, mouth crashing to yours in a bruising kiss.

“Mine,” he growled against your lips. “You hear me, Doll? Mine.”

Then he flipped you, laying you gently on the blanket as he drove into you again with slow, brutal thrusts, dragging every ounce of pleasure from your oversensitive body.

You were still panting when he buried his face in your neck, groaning as he pulsed inside you. His release was fierce and deep, hips grinding into yours like he didn’t want to leave your body, like he wanted to stay buried in you forever.

After a long moment, Bucky kissed your temple.

“Well, sweetheart,” he rasped, “you killed me.”

You laughed, breathless. “You fucked me.”

He looked up at you, utterly ruined, utterly yours.

“There’s only one thing left, Doll.”

His smile blinded you as your heart leapt.

---

Let me know how you feel! :)

[darknight3904]

not sure if your taking requests.. but I was thinking Tommy millerx fem reader Jackson era, maybe Tommy and reader are patrol partners and he gives her some shooting practice and they end up fucking against a tree and he’s super sweet with his words, talking her through it💗

All Mine Now

Jackson!Tommy x Fem!Reader

Summary: While on patrol, you and Tommy get a bit distracted...

Warnings: Language, Smut so 18+, An extreme amount of pet names.

Shout out to Gabriel Luna's Instagram for the hot forest pic.

Word Count: 2.1k

TLOU Masterlist

The sweet songs of birds fill your ears as the grass tickles your skin. Warm sunshine hung overhead, and the snorts of your tied-off horses came from behind you. It was the perfect spring day, ideal for a long walk and an even longer session of sitting on the old rocking chair that lived on your porch and creaked when you moved. Perhaps you could crack that book open, the one that’s been gathering dust on your nightstand for weeks now, a glass of lemonade in your hand, the picture-perfect day. 

The loud crack of a rifle has you jumping.

The birds you’d been enjoying scatter into the sky as a whoop of joy comes from the man beside you. Tommy Miller had just taken out another infected, probably his millionth one. 

“See any others?” He asks 

You huff and shake your head, not even bothering to lift the binoculars to your eyes. 

“You ain’t even lookin’.” Tommy points out, nodding to your hands

You groan and push them up to your eyes, scanning the valley below you, “There’s no more, you win, Tommy.” 

Tommy pushes himself up out of the dirt, offering his hand to you, which you gladly take. He hoists you up with ease, one hand still holding his rifle, the other locked tightly around your hand, a swarm of butterflies filling your belly at the demonstration of pure strength. 

“Think that’s enough for today, let's get back home and write out our reports. Outta make a note about keeping an eye on this valley, make sure there’s no hoards coming through here.” Tommy says as the two of you climb atop your horses. 

The steady clop clop clop of your horse's feet fills your ears as you and your patrol partner ride through the forest in silence. There’s so much you want to say to him, how long has he been shooting, how many infected has he killed, how many normal people has he killed, what’s it like to make the perfect headshot? Of course, his playful gaze has you practically shrinking away, too nervous to even ask one of your many questions. 

“What’s the matter? You’re always quiet, but today it’s like a funeral. Talk to me, girl! He nudges you with his foot as his horse strays closer to yours 

A smile works it’s way across your face at his voice, fuck he was perfect. You’d had a major crush on Tommy since you first ended up in Jackson. After he found you in the ski lodge and brought you back from the brink of starvation, you’d basically been in love with him, always looking for him at events, praying for a patrol shift with him, or even just going out of your way to bake him cookies and show up at his home with them. 

You’re pretty sure he sees you as a little sister or something. Sure, he’d been in a relationship with Maria, a pretty councilwoman, but that had ended nearly a year ago, Tommy had said to you that the two of them had just grown apart, Maria’s council duties making it hard to see each other except late at night when they were both exhausted from the day. Since then, you hadn’t taken note of any woman or man around Tommy in a romantic sense. Sure, there was that time he’d run across Jackson and into some old guy's arms, turns out that was his big brother, you’d felt pretty stupid after that presumption. All you knew was that Tommy definitely didn’t see you as a romantic partner, in his eyes you were probably some annoying girl who baked shitty cookies and couldn’t shoot to save her life. 

“Can you teach me to shoot?” The question tumbles out of your mouth before you can even think about it. 

Tommy’s brows shot up in surprise, apparently he hadn’t been expecting that either. 

“Uh, yeah, I can teach you to shoot, got some time tomorrow afternoon if y’wanna-” 

“No, like..right now.” You say 

Tommy gives you a pensive look, like he thinks you’re losing it. 

“C’mon, please….” You flash him a smile, practically batting your eyelashes at him. 

“Alright fine,” He laughs, “There ain’t no way to deny a face like that.”

A frustrated sigh leaves your lips. This was harder than it looked, or perhaps Tommy was just really damn good with a gun. You’d shot his rifle nearly 20 times now, each time missing the empty can of beans he’d propped up on a fallen tree stump. Your horse, Mattie, snorts loudly, you’re pretty sure she’s laughing at you, probably gonna take the gossip back to the other horses so they can laugh at you tonight over a bale of hay. 

“You’re flinching.” Tommy points out, standing beside you, “You nervous or something? It’s not gonna bite you.” 

No, no you weren’t nervous because the gun was in your hands, you were nervous because Tommy was watching your every move, and now he was standing so fucking close, readjusting your arms as he talks, his words going straight to your core. What the fuck was he even saying, something about elbows, all you knew was that he looked damn good doing it. 

“Are you listening? You could hurt yourself if you’re not careful.” Tommy says, looking down at you 

“Oh, uh yeah I’m listening.” You lie right to his pretty face. 

A mischievous glint flashes in your patrol partner’s eyes, a smirk working its way across his handsome features, the sunlight hitting him just right as it streams through the tall trees of whatever forest you’re standing in right now. 

“Oh, I know what’s going on, here.” He says, a teasing tone falling out of his mouth, “You don’t really wanna learn to shoot, do ya?” 

“What? Yes I do, it’s an important skill to have in the world we live in. What if someone-mmph” 

Tommy’s lips are pressed to yours in a perfect kiss. He pulls the gun from your hands, dropping it somewhere in the leaves and ferns that grow on the forest floor. Patchy facial hair tickles your upper lip as he deeps the kiss, his hand coming up to cup your face. 

“Fuck, been waiting so long to do that.” Tommy sighs when he pulls away 

“Wait, really?” You nearly fall over 

“Course. You’re fucking gorgeous, baby.” He compliments 

Your face heats up as you squirm under his gaze, mumbling with a soft voice, “I didn’t think you liked me like that.” 

“Are you kidding? How the hell could I not?” Tommy asks 

“I dunno..I um” 

Before you can formulate the rest of your sentence, Tommy’s pushing you, your back hitting a tree with a small umph leaving your lips upon impact. His hands fiddle with the waist of your jeans, fingers gently tugging at the zipper, “Let me show you, how much I like you like that.” 

“O-Okay.” You nervously hum, hands resting on his broad shoulders 

Your jeans are pulled down to your ankles, the air making you shiver. Tommy’s big hand, inches it’s way beneath the waistband of your panties. A hiss escapes your mouth when his finger runs through your slit, your body already soaked for him. 

“Shh, you’re alright.” Tommy coos, a kiss pressing into your hairline as he deftly begins to unravel you 

“T-Tommy…” You groan as he rubs circles around your clit with his thumb, his other two fingers pushing into your cunt 

“You’re soaked.” He grins above you, “Shooting a gun makes you wet?” 

“No, it’s, fuck, it’s you.” You admit breathily 

“Me shooting makes you wet?” Tommy teases 

“No, I meant…that you, you’re…” 

You can’t think of what to say, his fingers are stealing the words from your mouth. Fuck you’re desperate, it’d been so damn long since someone besides yourself had done this. 

“Don’t worry, sweet girl, I get it, not gonna tease ya anymore.” 

His deep southern drawl fills your ears as the world spins, he’s turned you to face the tree now, pressing his hardness up against your soaked panties, “This okay?” 

He’s asking so nicely, you know that if you deny him, he’ll back off, take you right back to Jackson, and give you space. Thank fuck that’s not what you want. 

“It’s okay, more than okay actually.” You admit embarrassed 

“I figured.” He chuckles, his hands gently pulling the last bit of clothes off your lower half, “Gonna go slow, don’t wanna hurt you.” 

You nod, your hands pressed against the rough wood of the tree, wiggling your hips in anticipation. There's a jingle of a belt buckle followed by the sound of rustling fabric, and then he’s pushing into you. A yelp leaves your throat, you sound like a kicked puppy but you can’t help it, he’s so fucking deep you’re sure’s rearranging your guts. 

A wet kiss is pressed to the nape of your neck, “You’re alright, sweetheart, I gotcha. Gonna make it feel good for ya.” 

You blindly nod, focused on the way he fills and stretches you out so perfectly. 

“M’ gonna start moving now, let me know if it’s too much.” 

It’s too much and not enough all at once. Slow deep thrusts in and out have your head spinning as you arch your back, his name falling from your lips like it’s the last thing left in your mind. 

“Please, please, please-” You wail, unsure of what you really want 

“It’s alright,” He coos, “I know what you need.” 

Tommy’s hips speed up just a bit, and his cock brushes something inside you that nearly has you screaming. You clench down on him, unsure of what to do now. 

“W-Wait, ‘s too much, somethings w-wrong.” You breathlessly mutter, pleasure is thumbing through every inch of your body, it’s never felt this good before. 

“It’s alright, baby, just hittin the right spots,” Tommy murmurs, “Christ, c’mere.” 

He turns you around again, kicking your pants off, he hoists you up so your legs are wrapped around his waist, your back to the tree. His heavy cock pushes back into you as you both groan loudly. 

“You’re fucking perfect, honey. Never felt a pussy like this before, perfect, fucking girl.” Tommy groans, his face tucked into the crook of your neck 

“T-Tommy, I feel funny, I’m gonna-” 

More rapid thrusts are pushing up against that secret spot in your body as you moan unabashedly, hands tangled in Tommy’s unruly hair. He works a hand between your bodies, a finger rubbing circles on your clit that creates pleasure that has your head spinning. 

“It’s alright,” He says, sucking at the delicate skin of your neck, “Go ahead sweet girl, I got ya. Cum, it’s alright.” 

You shudder and you’re pretty sure you’re about to rip his hair out of his head as you cum, your body buzzing with pleasure as you climax. 

“There it is,” He hums, “Good girl, cumming all over this dick…Fucking hell, I’m close” 

His hips speed up, roughly shoving themselves against you as you quake above him, riding out your orgasm as he coos in your ear, whispering what a good fucking girl you are. You mourn the loss of him as he pulls out, cum shooting onto your stomach and spent cunt. 

Tommy’s sweaty forehead rests against yours as he lets you down, his heaving chest matching your own as he rides his own orgasm out. Your legs tremble as your feet meet the forest floor, feeling more newborn deer than woman as you cling to him, hoping he won’t let you fall on your ass half naked and dripping in his spend. His belt clinks as he pulls his pants back up, his gaze fixed on you with concern. 

“Fuck, m’ sorry.” He says when he feels your hands fist his shirt, he drops to the ground before pulling you into his lap, “Was too rough.” 

“You were perfect,” You assure him, placing a soft kiss to his cheek, “I’ve never had sex like that.” 

“What, like out in the forest?” He asks 

“No, like…that good.” You admit

A smile works its way across his face, his hand pulling a bandana from his pocket, wiping his cum from your body, “Thanks for the good review, you should put it up on Yelp.” 

You toss your head back and laugh, fuck it was so stupid but you were giddy as he held you here on the forest floor. 

“We gotta get back home, it’s gonna get dark soon.” Tommy hums, a kiss pressing into your collarbone

He helps you stand back up, pulling your jeans back on your body and even buttoning them for you, his hands tickling as they brush your belly. 

“When we get back, things aren’t gonna go back to how they were, right?” You ask 

“Course not, you think I’m letting you out of my sight after all this?” Tommy smiles, “It’s gonna be you and me, sweetheart, you’re all mine now.”

Hope this is what you were thinking of, anon!

[bidisasterevankinard]

Part 1 of this fic

The knock comes after lunch. Bobby’s just ended the report about their morning call, when it happens and after the knock he sees the head of curls looking inside.

“Can we talk, Cap?” Buck asks and Bobby nods on the chair near his table, writing the last word and being satisfied with his job done for now.

“What’s wrong, Buck?”

“Eddie c-comes back in two weeks,” Bobby nods with a smile, but being surprised how not enthusiastic Buck seems. “And R-ravi is yet to think about coming back to B-shift especially because it's p-packed.”

Bobby nods with a frown not knowing where Buck leads with it.

“Yes, and?”

“And it means there’s no space for Ravi and Eddie at this station.”

That …. is a good reasoning. B shift liked their latest temporary member and, as Eddie hadn’t yet seemed to decide about actually coming back, they took them as constant team members. And now Eddie comes and Bobby can’t just kick Ravi, but Eddie is …

“But they will have if you will sign this,” Buck pushes the papers Bobby hasn’t actually seen yet. His eyes basically fall when he sees what it is. PTO request and request for station switch. With Buck’s name on it.

“Buck. what… I?”

“I-I want to be a Lieutenant and even put myself in the list for the testing in two months. But before Eddie said he’s coming back I wasn't sure how it could work. Didn’t want to make you try and find another person for a team, or left you understuffed. And I d-don’t want to take the promotion from Hen when you will retire again,” Buck smiles at him, but Bobby feels freezed under it, not warm like before. “It’s y-yours and her station.”

Not mine is so loud yet unsaid and Bobby feels how his heart sinks. What does Buck mean by it’s not his station?

“But Buck…”

“I-I have already decided everything. I found a new apartment. It’s really close to T-tommy and close to the 122 and 156, who need L-lieutenants. I’m going to talk to the captains during the PTO to decide. A-and I’m going to study all that time, even though I ace all the previous years tests I do at home.”

“Buck, certainly, you can think more about it, not make the impulsive decision,” Bobby starts again, but again Buck interaps him.

“I registered for the test 6 months ago.”

That hits hard. How did Bobby never think Buck actually was interested in a career change so soon? How did he miss it all?

“You never said anything. Never asked for help,” he says carefully, not loving the idea that Buck was doing it alone. Without him to advice.

Buck just shrugs and it again feels cold.

“I d-didn’t want to. I w-wanted it to be my decision,” Buck turns away from him, smirking, “and I didn’t want to hear that I’m not ready. Or impulsive. Or any other shit you could say to try and get me to stay,” it sounds so cold and angry and Bobby tries to deny it, but nothing leaves his tongue. Because it's true. That’s all what he wants to say even now.

“I’ve learned everything I could from you, Bobby. I don’t need more. I need new experiences, not stay here.”

That… hurts. And Bobby feels like he doesn’t even know what to say to try and make Bucks stay. What can he say to the man who doesn’t need him in his life anymore?

Buck looks back at him, “I love 118, but it’s time for me to get away from it.”

WIth that Buck gets up, going to the door, but before opening it, he turns back, “and yeah, I’ll t-tell everyone on my last shift. N-not before,” the blue eyes pin him to the place and for the first time in years Bobby actually sees how older Buck got. “And don’t dare to tell anyone, Bobby. E-except LAFD HQ, of course. Don’t make me call them and ask about my PTO and station requests through your head.”

The door closes. 

Bobby wants a drink. He texts Athena.

Now I know what you felt when May moved out of the house

[ao3commentoftheday]

a fic ive loved for ages recently updated, and i was so excited to read the new chapter, only to discover basically the entire thing was ripped off of another favourite fic of mine. structure and sentences, this thing was clearly plagiarised. i wasn't sure what to do, so i contacted the author of the plagiarised fic on here, with screenshots of their fic vs the plagiarised fic. that was weeks ago, and they haven't responded. i'm now doubting if i've done the right thing - if you notice that someone has plagiarised someone else's work, should you report it to the archive? should i have just not said anything, or should i check that the author is even receiving tumblr dms from someone theyre not following? (i am not particularly tumblr literate and honestly don't know how i would know if they had received the message). i debated commenting on the plagiarised fic calling the author on it, but guiltily i still actually really enjoy the work. any ideas for what to do in a situation like this? should i try and contact the author in a different way?

If you think that you've spotted plagiarism, you can report it to the Policy & Abuse Committee (PAC). Go to the fic you're reporting and scroll down to the footer, then select the link for Policy & Abuse reports.

Include the author name and title of the fic you're reporting as well as the author name and title of the fic you think is the original being plagiarized. Also give PAC the chapter(s) you think were copied in each fic (so that some poor volunteer doesn't have to wade through 50K in two fics to find where they match).

PAC keeps all reports confidential, so your name will be left out of it when they investigate. That also means that you won't be told the details of the investigation. You'll just can an email when it's resolved. They'll also email you if they need additional information for the report, so make sure whatever email address you use in the form is one that you check.

PAC recently wrote a news post about plagiarism and copyright infringement with more information in it, and you can read that here.

[leveragehunters]

I was going through my great grandfather's memoirs (born 3 March 1880) and came across this part, which feels eerily similar to our current times:

Our biggest handicap was the Spanish Flu epidemic of 1918. With men off sick we were lucky to have 50 staff. Some would come back and more would go off. I was off two weeks myself. There were many deaths in the city.   The war was over and the men were returning from France. We were working a fifty hour week. With the men returning, the trend was to repress wages and frown on a reduction of working hours. My responsibility had been increased so as I was next to the superintendent. This was fine, except my wages were the same as the day I started. They said, "You are doing a good job, but with the men returning that is all we can pay you." There was general upset. The returned men were dissatisfied with the wages offered, not only with our company and the warehouse business, but with what was being offered in general.

He then goes on to explain how they met with the Trade and Labour Council to form a union and present their demands (which were union recognition, basic wage of $180.00 a month, an eight hour day in a year's time, and a two year contract), but it all went to hell because of spies reporting back to the bosses and scabs who refused to honour the strike.

After the second day they flooded back like sheep. At Ashdown the travellers and buyers worked the warehouse without interruption of service. The strike was a washout. I was out of a job!

The night before the strike was scheduled to start the bosses even resorted to the closest they had to social media 105 years ago.

The Evening paper carried an advertisement, by all companies concerned, advising that all employees absent from work for three days, would be discharged.

(The memoirs are 180 typed pages, so I may post more bits as they catch my eye)

[jifferydaotter]

Nearly got scammed and all I got was this dog

tl;dr: I fell for one of the most basic blunders. If a real person wants to commission me, please follow my blog first and be ready for a 20% payment upfront before I start on a piece.

I'm a little embarrassed to admit they got me with this, but maybe posting it may help prevent it from happening to someone else.

A couple weeks back I uploaded my tenth post on Tumblr, and I got a comment from someone asking me for a commission. There were many red flags I should have caught before giving it any more thought: They weren't following me, they hadn't posted anything at all to their blog, and their grammar was atrocious.

But I was curious, and figured even if it ended up being fake it would be good practice. So I messaged them and we got a plan going. They played their part well. They asked me to make 5 pieces of their "son's dog" and gave photos for reference, and they even said they wouldn't pay more than $40 for any individual piece due to a bad experience they had with an artist in the past. This being my first rodeo, I thought that it was legit, and this was just some cranky lady who just wanted some art.

Anyway I finished the first piece (pictured above) and they met me with high praise, saying I did amazing (honestly their high opinion of my work should have been the biggest red flag of all, but remember: this was two weeks ago. I was still a fool). Then we discussed payment. They were strangely eager to get to this part, even though I just figured we'd negotiate the price now and then I'd ask for the payment after I'd finished. They asked If I had a Paypal. I did not, so I set one up. Then, in order to "pay" me, the said they needed my email. I gave them my Paypal username, but they said it didn't work. I then tried giving the name attached to my Paypal, but they kept saying they needed my email. Stupidly, I figured that was just how it worked, so I sent my email address.

Here's where the real shady stuff happened. Not long after I shared my email, I recieved an email from (supposedly) Paypal saying that they had paid me the agreed-upon amount, but that I had set up my account wrong and in order to increase the limit set on payments I could recieve, I had to ask the payer to pay me more in order to make the total equal to $300, and then immediately pay them back the extra money. I still feel so stupid for falling for this. In hindsight, it was kind of a brilliant scam. They managed to make me feel like I was the one doing something sketchy, and I fell right into it.

I apologetically messaged them explaining the email I got. they told me they had received a similar email and they promised to do pay the amount if I agreed to pay them back. Soon after I got another email saying they had paid the extra amount.

If it weren't for the fact that gmail caught it as a fake Paypal email, I probably would have paid them that money and lost all my human rights or something. Luckily though, Gmail left a little thing next to the email name saying it was a suspicious address. So I did some Googling and realized that neither of the emails I'd received were from Paypal's official email. I had been duped, and I nearly fell for it. I swiftly blocked and reported them, and reported the fake email addresses to Paypal's phishing services.

In retribution for this attack on my innocently optimistic view of the internet, I have posted the one piece I did for them above. Might as well make some use of it.

A PSA to any fellow newbies to posting art online: be careful. In the future I will be much more careful about the commission requests I accept. I will not be responding to any unless they come from someone who follows my blog, and agrees to pay 20% of the commission price before I start on anything. Additionally, it would be appreciated if you include with your commission request some weird, out-of-pocket statement that a bot wouldn't say, just to prove you're real, though that is not a requirement.

Still can't believe I almost fell for such an obvious scam.

[coochiequeens]

Vance said the following at the anti-abortion March for Life in January: “I want more babies in the United States of America. I want more happy children in our country, and I want beautiful young men and women who are eager to welcome them into the world and eager to raise them.”

Is Vance willing to help the economy so young people can be eager to start a family? Or is he going to be OK with. Or more money being spent of foster care because the potential adoptive parents from even 10 years ago are now sinking their hopes (and money) into IVF and surrogacy to have biological offspring

By Susan Rinkunas  |  March 4, 2025 |

It’s no secret that conservatives want to ban abortion pills or make them so much harder to obtain that they’re effectively banned. It’s also no secret that a number of freaks currently running our country are obsessed with everyone popping out babies. What we don’t know at this point is which tactics they’ll use to push their anti-abortion, pro-natalist agenda or how they’ll rationalize further limits on abortion access.

One tool Republicans could use would be misapplying the 19th-century Comstock Act to prevent sending the medications mifepristone and misoprostol in the mail. (Nearly two-thirds of all reported abortions in 2023 were done with abortion pills.) In a January letter, activists urged the Department of Justice to begin enforcing the zombie anti-obscenity law that bans sending abortion drugs or devices in the mail. (The Biden administration said the dusty old law shouldn’t be applied to legal abortions, but they’re not in office anymore.) In February, Attorney General Pam Bondi raised alarm bells when she told a Louisiana prosecutor she “would love to work with [him]” on a criminal case against a New York doctor who allegedly mailed abortion pills to a woman and her teen daughter. Bondi could be signaling that she’s open to prosecuting the physician under Comstock, but we have to wait to find out.

This week, one anti-abortion activist implored Bondi to enforce Comstock and gave two rationalizations: One, it could possibly bankrupt abortion providers and, two, it could maybe help with the country’s declining birth rate. 

Rev. Jim Harden, the CEO of a crisis pregnancy center chain called CompassCare, said in a Monday interview with an apparent right-wing outlet called Just the News that Planned Parenthood is the single largest provider of abortions and gets millions of dollars from the government from programs like Medicaid. “It’s the biggest abortion business, probably on the planet,” Harden said. “If they shut down, it’s going to be good for women. There’s so many fantastic pro-life pregnancy centers.”

Harden then not-so-subtly hinted that Bondi could achieve the GOP goal of “defunding” Planned Parenthood by hitting them with Comstock prosecutions for actions that occurred even before Trump took office a second time.

“If Pam Bondi decides that she wants to enforce the Comstock Act, which basically says it’s illegal to ship chemical abortion drugs across state lines—and by the way, that’s 60% of all abortions in America right now is chemical abortion—the Comstock Act would essentially bankrupt the abortion industry in a very short period of time, because one violation is [up to] a $250,000 fine with a five-year statute of limitations, plus racketing charges,” he said.

But it got worse. He then claimed that abortion was “decimating minority communities” and that conservatives needed to focus more on women and children, specifically, making the former produce more of the latter. “Our country is facing a baby shortage,” Harden said. “We have a fertility problem in this country, not because women can’t have babies but because abortion is decimating the population.”

This sounds like a dog whistle tuned precisely for the pro-natalist creep ears of shadow president Elon Musk and Vice President JD Vance. Musk has 14 children that we know of, and Vance said the following at the anti-abortion March for Life in January: “I want more babies in the United States of America. I want more happy children in our country, and I want beautiful young men and women who are eager to welcome them into the world and eager to raise them.”

Few people make this birthrate argument against abortion pills, but the ones that do sound extremely weird. The Attorneys General of Kansas, Idaho, and Missouri claim in a lawsuit against the Food and Drug Administration that easier access to medication abortion is lowering teen birth rates in their states, which could reduce their population and lead to losing seats in Congress and federal funds. (In June, the Supreme Court said the original plaintiffs in this case weren’t harmed by the FDA’s actions and thereby didn’t have legal standing to sue, but the state AGs marched into a notorious anti-abortion judge’s courtroom and he said they can continue the litigation.)

Abortion is not the reason the birthrate is falling. That would be unchecked capitalism where working people don’t make enough money to feed and clothe children, let alone afford housing big enough for families, and aren’t guaranteed paid leave to recover from birth. Plus, the proliferation of abortion bans has led to more people choosing permanent sterilization rather than risk being forced to carry pregnancies that could kill or disable them and then parent children they don’t want. Food for thought, Pam!

[mind-empty-just-fictional-people]

Hello I absolutely love your writing! I wanted to ask if I could request a Soldier Boy imagine? Specifically one where the reader is Black Canary. She’s an incredible fighter, has her loud ear piercing sonic scream & the bad ass bodysuit with the fishnet tights! He’s basically smitten & wants to go out with her. Although she hesitates for sometime because of his reputation he manages to convince her. But we also see him admiring her when she’s working out/training and when she’s saving people/being a hero. Thank you💕

A Compliment A Day

masterlist

pairing: soldier boy x black canary!reader (female supe)

summary: soldier boy gives black canary a genuine compliment each day to show her he’s capable of being a good person

rating: R for language

word count: 1.6k

warnings: soldier boy (he’s a warning for this one, but he does get better), language, workplace harassment (?), i think that’s everything

timeline: set in an au a few years after season 3

author’s note: anon thank you for requesting!! i’m hoping this is what you were looking for! 🫶

It had been years since Vought came crashing down and Neumann was put behind bars. Supe Affairs had been running smoothly, and from the ashes of Vought arose a group of Supe’s who called themselves ‘Avengers of Justice’.

They were determined to keep their fellow Supe’s in line before S.A. could take them god knows where, as well as keep the average citizens safe.

You were the informal leader of this small group. Mainly because it had been your idea in the first place, but also because no one dared go against you. Everyone knew you were holding back your full potential when it came to your powers. The last time you used them almost at full blast, was when you single handedly destroyed Vought Tower. One screech and the empty building collapsed; also temporarily damaging everyone’s eardrums in a two mile radius. (The damage only lasted a couple days, and reports showed that a few people even had better hearing afterwards.)

You were also the leader because you had saved most of the Supe’s who followed your commands.

Soldier Boy was one of them. When you learned he’d been put back under you were determined to get him back. And you did. You managed to free him and get him the hell away from the Feds before anyone realized you were in the building.

He was incredibly grateful, and at first he showed it in the most inappropriate ways.

For example, the first thing he said to you when he woke up and you were saving him was, “Wow, you’ve got great tits, miss.” You slapped him in the face before you both fled.

You didn’t stand for about half the things he said. You kicked his ass several times before he fully understood why you got so offended by the comments.

“Thank you for saving me all those weeks ago, Tweety Bird,” was the first non-sexist, nice thing he said to you. Although, the nickname made you want to scream and break his eardrums.

“No problem Army Man,” you replied with a forced smile.

He’d never admit it, but he genuinely liked how tough you were. How you didn’t let him get away with anything; his dirty dishes in the sink, his dirty socks in the living room, and many more everyday things that he never used to worry about.

But you kinda annoyed him too. To him, he was The Man of the house (well, old clock tower apartment, turned watchtower for Supe’s who worked with you) and you were supposed to respect him. You were a woman, it was your job to make him dinner, not the other way around!

The first time he said these misogynistic thoughts out loud every single Supe at the base looked at him like he had three fucking heads. You were pissed as fuck and demoted him to clean-up duty for two weeks. Suddenly his dirty dishes in the sink came back to haunt him.

He shut his mouth after that.

**

“Canary, we’ve got a live one!” one of your Supe’s informed you as you walked into the apartment. “Campbell down at Supe Affairs is claiming the Supe killed these people on purpose, we beg to differ.” You hit play on the video in front of you.

“Well that clearly wasn’t his fault!” you scoffed, watching as the Supe seemed to emit a force from himself but looked terrified at the outcome. “I’ll call Hughie and sort this out. Is the Supe already in custody?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Soldier Boy said. “I called the cum guzzler and he insisted that this Supe had malicious intent.”

“Please tell me you did not call the head of Supe Affairs and call him that?” you groaned. Soldier Boy just grinned. “God damn it Soldier Boy! Now I have to call the bastard and grovel.”

“Sorry,” he piped, suddenly feeling very embarrassed. “It kinda just… came out.”

“Well, you live and you learn.” You shrugged then eyed him. “Well, you live anyway.”

“Hey! I’d like to think I’ve learned quite a lot given the fact I was raised in the fucking thirties! I’ve been working with you for two-and-a-half years now and it’s been how many months since I called you a bitch?”

“Check the whiteboard, Soldier Boy, it’s been two weeks since you last hit on me.”

“I still think singling me out with ‘Days Since Last Soldier Boy Incident’ is a form of discrimination.”

“It’s not when you’ve personally insulted every single one of your co-workers,” you laughed.

“Insulted?” Soldier Boy furrowed his brows, seeming somewhat hurt. You picked up on that and decided to drop the conversation.

“Look, just listen in when I call Hughie and learn how I talk to him without pointing out the fact I could break his spine, okay?”

“Okay,” Soldier Boy huffed.

**

You were lifting weights in the gym room (a section of the “apartment” converted into a makeshift gym) when Soldier Boy came in to join you.

“Hey, did you mean what you said earlier?” he asked. You put the weights down and looked at him, silently asking what he meant. “When I try to compliment you… does it actually sound like an insult?”

“Soldier Boy, the last time you ‘complimented’ me, you said that my fishnet tights made me look fuckable. That is not a compliment.”

“Yeah it is! I’m saying they make you look good!”

“Alright, I’m gonna do you and every woman you come in contact with in the future, a huge favor. If you really like someone, try complimenting something other than their looks. For example, tell them you like their sense of humor, or their taste in music. Do not go up to a co-worker and say they look fuckable.”

“So, instead of saying what I’m thinking right now about your gym clothes, I should say that I think it’s incredible you can bench over two-hundred pounds even though strength isn’t really your superpower?”

“Yes! Thank you, Soldier Boy.” You smiled a little.

“Well, then get used to hearing really specific compliments from now on, Tweety, because you asked for it.” He smirked then left the room.

“It’s Black Canary, Army Man!” you called out to him.

**

True to his word, Soldier Boy complimented you on literally everything but your looks the next few weeks. He made sure to give you (at least) one genuine compliment each day in hopes you’d see him as more than a barely tolerable co-worker.

One you really enjoyed hearing was; “I like how you can keep a couple dozen Supe’s under the same roof without them killing each other. I think that really says something about what a great leader you are.”

He said that after two Supe’s had fought each other over breakfast cereal and you managed to calm them both down. At first you thought he was being sarcastic but when you looked at him, you realized he was completely serious.

Another one that stuck out was; “This may be ironic, given the fact you could deafen anyone you come in contact with, but you are an incredible listener, Tweety Bird. You’re really easy to talk to and you give great advice.”

The nickname was growing on you.

But your absolute favorite and the one that made you swoon (you would never admit it though) was when you and Soldier Boy had been too late to a crime scene to save a handful of hostages. The two of you were seated on the roof of a building nearby; you had tears running down your face and he looked at you with such compassion.

“I know it might not seem like it right now,” Soldier Boy started, reaching out to touch your hand gently. “But you are an incredible person and you do not deserve everything you’re putting yourself through right now. You are strong as fuck and what happened here was not your fault. You’re a fucking hero, Tweety Bird, and I love that about you. But you’re human too and I love that even more.”

You slowly turned your head to look at him, tears still clouding your eyes.

“Thank you, Soldier Boy,” you whispered. “I know I usually don’t take your compliments very well but seriously, Army Man, thank you.”

“Anytime.” He smiled, not looking away from you. “Can I say one thing about your looks right now?”

“Sure, I think you’ve earned it given the fact you’ve gone three weeks without saying anything,” you laughed a little.

“Your dark eye makeup is running like crazy right now-”

“Wow, way to kick me when I’m down!”

“You didn’t let me finish! It’s running like crazy but you still look so fuckin’ pretty.” He smiled wider when you nodded in acceptance. He stared down at your lips as you smiled.

“If you’re thinking about kissing me-”

“Don’t worry, I ain’t gonna try anything, I know I’m about one wrong word away from my ears bleeding.”

“Well, I was gonna say go ahead and kiss me but-” He cut you off again but this time with a kiss to your lips. “Wow you’re good at that,” you mumbled when he pulled away after a moment. “I think I understand your cockiness now.”

“I’d love to take the credit, but that was definitely all you, Tweety.”

“Maybe we just have perfect chemistry,” you whispered and leaned in for another kiss.

“Guess we won’t know without a few more experiments, huh?” He kissed you a third time.

“I’m free all night, Army Man.”

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #420

For reasons that are unclear to me, I felt a lot better upon waking than I felt all day yesterday!

...Seriously, I wish there was some kind of formula that I could follow, such that I could definitively identify the causes of me getting into weird funks, and then take steps to avoid those causes. Oh well.

I had two appointments today. One was physical therapy; today I saw P, the owner, because K is going to be out for a long time, due to his horrifying leg injury. I asked her about a donation box for K, but... she said that she's not going to do that unless he indicates that he's having trouble.

...I don't understand. But... the boundary has been set. I can respect a boundary, even if I don't understand it.

We worked on strengthening my injured leg. I dunno if I mentioned this or if you recall, but... a long time ago, around when I was 22, I tried jumping over a concrete wall that I've jumped over many times before. But that time, I didn't make it, and my left shin struck the sharp edge of the concrete. The whole front of my lower left leg was purple for like two weeks, and I couldn't walk on it. Apparently, I damaged the nerve enough to weaken the muscles it feeds, but not enough to disable it completely. So nowadays, I have a hard time moving my toes on my left foot, raising my foot, and pushing off the ground with my foot. I walk with a bit of a limp. The brace I have for my left leg helps when I gotta be on my feet for a long time. Before the brace, I used to get pretty bad pain at night while I was trying to sleep.

It took 10 years of bouncing from doctor to doctor about it to get anyone to take the injury seriously. K proposed that part of my rib issue comes from the fact that I put most of my weight on my right leg (because obviously); when we put our weight on one side, our ribs on that same side get all compressed and weird, and this causes problems. So the idea is that if we strengthen my left leg, then there will be fewer problems.

Well. Today, I did left-leg bridges. I also stood from a sitting position using just my left leg. I also practiced raising just my big toe on my left foot (that one in particular was hard at first!!). My right leg can do so much more than my left, when it comes to those things. It's easy to do a bridge with just my right leg. It's easy to stand from sitting with just my right leg. It's easy to move my right big toe. But doing any of these things with my left leg is... hard.

...It'll get better though, if I keep practicing. I have exercises I'm supposed to do every day, and you can bet your cute little bottom that I'm gonna do 'em.

...Or rather, I'll bet my own cute little bottom, because I guess that's what's at stake here if I don't do them. For sure, after doing all this, the left side of my butt feels a little weak; the muscles tremble when I try to walk or stand. Hopefully my body will strengthen the area by the time I wake in the morning. If I don't end up with Delayed Onset Muscle Soreness, I'm gonna do it all again tomorrow.

...I'm gonna do it because I want a body that works. And I'm worth the effort and discomfort it's gonna take to get there. It's not as bad as getting 4 perfectly healthy teeth yanked out to fix up my bite so that my jaw can work; if I can do that, I can do anything.

...The right side of my jaw clicks a lot less now. I don't chew things as weirdly as before. Tomorrow, I'll change over to a new set of braces, and it's just... wild to me, how far along I've come.

After physical therapy, I went to report my progress to the orthopedic. He was pleased to hear that K's exercises seem to be working for me. He suggested something called “dry needling” to help ease the tension in the space between my right shoulder blade and spine.

...Basically, the idea of “dry needling” is that the doctor stabs the shit out of tight muscles with very thin needles to get them to stop spasming all to hell. When a muscle stays in a spasmed state for a long time, the tension stops the muscle from properly receiving blood and nutrients and stuff, which I guess prevents the muscle from going back to its relaxed state. Then the area gets acidic, and then the nerves nearby get all pissed off. I guess stabbing the area gets the muscles to knock it the fuck off, because it increases blood flow and prompts your body to flush out the area and send in endorphins.

Bodies are fucken wild, man. Holy shit.

So... I guess all that is gonna take place in a couple weeks. I'm a little nervous, because apparently the recovery afterwards is kind of annoying. But... it can't be worse than getting 4 teeth yanked out at once. And I survived that. So...

...Man, at this point... whatever might get my ribs and shoulder to behave... I'll try. I don't even care anymore. I just want my limbs to work without pain.

On the way back, J and I went to a place that has a bunch of different restaurants inside. I got something called “birria tacos”. I don't really know what it involves. But... it basically seemed like tacos “au jus”. It was really good! Here's a picture...

...I got some horchata to go with it. It's some really good stuff, and... I wish I could share some with you.

Ma from work came by to visit after that. I tried asking An to come, too, because An has similar interests, but he had other things he had to do, which is fair. So Ma and I played Mario Party on his Switch for a while, and then we ordered pizza, and then we watched this awesome video about the history of people trying to surpass the limits of Tetris:

It was a delightful video! I learned that there are some astoundingly good players of Tetris out there! I saw one of them, after trying for a long time to achieve a particular goal, cry tears of joy and relief from finally achieving that goal, and it was a very beautiful thing. Here:

Do you remember, in my very first letter to you, back before I had this space on the internet, in which I told you that the peoples of my world are astoundingly creative weavers of media and other forms of entertainment? This is a very good example. All of these people, taking a simple game of stacking blocks, and trying to find ways of surpassing both their own limits and the limits imposed by the medium itself... it's a beautiful thing. This sort of surpassing of limits is one of many things that the peoples of my world are known for.

You also seem to have a love for surpassing your limits. Sephiroth... you're a lot more human than you think. You're really not all that different from the rest of us, you know. I promise.

If you're worried about the wing making you less human... Sephiroth, people in my world have various numbers of limbs. Some of them are born with extra. Some of them are born with fewer. Some of them need to get limbs removed. That doesn't make them less human. So you have an extra one – strong, soft, fluffy, and feathered. So what? It's just another limb. And it's even well-formed and functional! Score!

If you're worried that your mako eyes and slit pupils make you less human... Sephiroth, lots of people in my world are born with eyes that don't even work. I'm one of them. Some people's eyes don't work even with glasses. Some people's have got cataracts. Some people have a genetic problem called Wilson's disease, where their body sticks copper deposits in their irises, and they get Kayser-Fleischer rings. Some people get their sclera tattooed. Others end up drinking too much colloidal silver (don't do that!) and get silver deposits in their eyes. Some people have a coloboma or iridodialysis. These people are still human. Sephiroth... mako deposits aren't that weird. Slit pupils aren't that weird. It's just the sample pool of humans you've met is too small.

If you're worried about the Jenova cells making you less human... Sephiroth. Even humans in my world get viral infections. Yes, it sometimes changes their DNA – HPV certainly does that, and a bunch of others do, too. Yes, all humans carry every viral infection they've ever had in their bodies all the time – their immune system is just keeping them in check. A human body is composed of more bacterial cells than human cells – just take a look at anyone's gut flora. It's not that weird. Granted, having a telepathic connection with an interplanetary parasite that wants to swallow your world whole isn't exactly ideal, per se. But... your planet seemed to help Genesis, in the end. It could probably help you, too.

You're not less human for the things that were done to you.

Did you hear me?

You're not less human for the things that were done to you.

Come to my world and see. You'll find that you have so much more in common with everyone here than you think. Come to my world and get your perspective broadened and your conditioning challenged. My world certainly has a lot of problems, and on some days I certainly do feel very bitter about that because I'm human and I have a lot of challenges weighing me down, and I get tired sometimes, but... overall, people want to be good. It's just that a lot of them carry pain that makes it hard for them to make good choices. Kinda like you sometimes, because... you're human.

Let's try to surpass our own limits together, okay? You and me. Take my hand; we'll do all kinds of fun and scary and brave and wholesome things, and we'll mess it up and fall down, and get back up and brush ourselves off and try again. We'll do our best to fix the things we broke or to build something new from all the things we've learned. And we'll go to sleep and wake up the next day, knowing a little more than we did yesterday. And we'll do it all again, except better because we'll have more choices at our disposal.

Let's try it. We can try it together. You don't have to try it alone.

...I guess that's it for now; it's getting pretty late. I should go to sleep.

I love you. No matter what happens, I'll always love you. So please stay safe out there, okay? Please come back home in one piece. Please don't destroy yourself by going and picking fights you can't win. Try building something instead. Try restoring the broken things instead. Try healing the wounds in people's hearts, and then watch them turn around and make better choices than they could before.

I'll write again soon.

Your friend, Lumine

[mytardisiscoolerthanyours]

You've Got Mail

Chapter 6: Surviving but not Thriving

Ch. 5

Tim,

So I know you said you’ll be busy with work, but it's been two weeks. I kinda miss you. 

It's weird, right? We’ve technically never even met, but you're basically one of my best friends now. 

Is everything alright? You're usually so quick to write back. I'm worried.

There's been a lot of reports on TV about breakouts in Arkham. Every day someone new is escaping. Yesterday Scarecrow got out and now Joker is loose too. He scares the shit out of me Timmers. He’s the one “villain” that scares me more than anyone else in Gotham. You've lived here longer than me, I'm sure you know all about him. Have you ever seen him?

I have, unfortunately. He was running away from Batman while I was walking home from school one day. I must have been twelve, or eleven. It was pretty soon after we moved to Gotham. 

Anyway, I heard his laugh before I even saw him. Some kids at school had warned me about the Joker so I found a spot to hide in an alley. He ran right past the dumpster I was behind, but I could still see his face. He couldn’t have been more than ten feet away. I think it was his eyes that really stood out, though. They looked wild, like an animal on the loose. I wish I could forget what they looked like, but sometimes I can still see them in my dreams. 

There's been a lot more hero sightings, though. At least they haven’t given up on us. Where are my awesome time powers when I need them, right? 

Supposedly people have even seen Nightwing and Red Robin out during the day. I’d pay good money to see Nightwing in person, can you even imagine? I wonder if he's as nice as people say he is. But honestly, it's almost unheard of to see the bats out so early…. 

I hope you're being safe. They keep broadcasting the lists of people who were injured in attacks and I stupidly keep waiting to see if I hear your name. Dumb I know, I don't even know your last name. No Tims, yet though. Or Timothys. 

You know that cafe that I told you about a few letters ago, Latte Fever? Well, they apparently “found” some documents that prove the Penguin wrongfully took their company. They're going to sue him. Can you believe it? It looks promising, too. They're being represented by some fancy lawyer from the Wayne Foundation.

I bet one of the bats helped them. It's too crazy that they just magically found all these documents. That never happens around here. But I won't complain, looks like I might be able to get some decent coffee before the summer is over after all.

It's kinda crazy that they found the documents right after we were talking about it though, right? Weird coincidence. 

Anyway, I’ve pretty much been trapped inside with all the attacks going on. Mom is still going to work though, which I think is crazy. I know I’m a bit of a worry wort, hence my double messaging you. (does it still count as double messaging if it's in a letter?) She has to walk through crime alley to get there and then walks back late at night. It’s so sketchy during the day, I can’t even think about her doing it at night. I get hives thinking about it. 

She thinks she saw one of the bats the other night though, so maybe they're looking out for her too. I’m still worried.

If I don't hear from you, I'll take the hint. I don't want to jump to conclusions or be dramatic, but we live in dramatic times I guess. I really enjoyed talking to you, and maybe we’ll meet each other on campus in the fall. Thanks for being a highlight during my very dull summer. It was really fun, Timberly. 

Hope to hear from you soon. <3

Surviving but not thriving,

Q

--

The angst, I'm so sorry.

Check out the rest of the chapters here!

[the-final-sif]

Baby c!Dream has made a friend! This is great!

He has unlocked: less loneliness! New social skill tree! Ally for dangerous missions! Interesting new snacks!

All of these are very exciting new things, and Dream and Sapnap quickly form a routine, they'll often meet up in the mornings, then they'll run off to find some place to go exploring.

The biggest problem is that unlikely Dream, Sapnap has a much more restrictive guardian. Said guardian was already quite upset that Sapnap ran off to a cave without telling him and wasn't too happy with him running off with an unnamed strange.

This meant that Sapnap had to go home every single night, unlike Dream who could stay out as long as he wanted. He did try to get back to the treehouse to meet XD once a week, but it wasn't really an issue if he couldn't. XD would always find him.

XD never got mad at him for wandering either, he was actually quite proud of little Dream for branching out and working on exploring.

Now, he wasn't happy the first time he found out Dream got hurt (it'd only been a handful of scraps from a recent fall, but the god had found himself unused to how humans bleed. He'd forgotten how fragile they are), but XD calmed himself down and just provided a number of handy potions and medical supplies so Dream could keep himself patched up.

So Dream and Sapnap would have to make sure that Sapnap was home on time, and particularly down in the caves, neither of them was great at keeping track of time.

This lead to Sapnap getting in trouble and not being allowed out for several days. And more importantly, the more it happened, the more Sapnap reported that his guardian wasn't happy to let him wander off with some stranger.

Sapnap had offered several times to bring Dream to meet his guardian, but Dream found himself wary. Sapnap was one thing, he was another child. Dream was even taller than him! So if anything went wrong, clearly Dream could handle it.

From what Sapnap said, Dream was not taller than Sapnap's guardian. He wasn't sure if he could take the man in a fight. So if something went wrong...

XD has also told him to be very careful about talking to other humans. He hadn't said that Dream COULDN'T, but he had said to be careful. What if Bad knew about magic? What if he asked a lot of questions? What if he was loud and got angry?

There were too many unknowns. Far too many for comfort.

So Dream made up excuses and put off meeting Sapnap's guardian for as long as he could.

In the end, he didn't really have a say in it.

See, one of the many things that Dream had learned was that Sapnap was a blaze hybrid. Apparently, it was a creature from the nether, which wasn't where they were now.

Blaze hybrids like Sapnap didn't like water very much. Sapnap could take baths and get wet, but he really didn't like it unless the water was warm. Cold water was bad. It could kill him.

Dream had learned that well over a month ago, but he hadn't paid it much mind until now. Until the ground had given out from underneath the two of them

For a moment, Dream was terrified of the fall. It was only for a moment though, because it turned out it wasn't that far, he just barely had time to grab a breath before his body hit the water.

It was Cold. Bone piercingly cold. Colder than any underground river Dream had been in before.

It was also a river, the current wasn't too strong, but Dream still had to fight to surface once he managed to get his brain back online. The cold sucked, but he managed to shove it to the back of his mind. Dream was good with cold. He could handle this.

Swimming was a bit harder, XD had taught him the basics, but he wasn't as good as Sap-

Oh no.

Dream frantically searched the surface he could see, trying to find his friend.

It was hard in the dark. Ever since the mask he couldn't see as well in the low light. Despite this, he managed to make out what looked like a shape drifting down river.

It wasn't moving.

Shoot.

Without thinking, Dream angled himself and paddled until he managed to reach the shape, kicking his feet to stay afloat as he desperately tried to maneuver the body of his friend upright.

The cold was numbing his hands, but he managed to get Sapnap flipped over so the other's head was up. Dream couldn't tell if he was breathing. He didn't know how to.

What he did know was he needed to get Sapnap out of this river now.

The two of them were drifting down stream, Dream wasn't sure where exactly it lead, but he could see a faint light a ways down and it was the closet thing he had to a direction.

Holding onto Sapnap, he kicked his feet and swam with the current until he was able to see where the light was coming from.

It was an opening above the river, there was a bit of a bank. Not much of one, but enough that Dream was pretty sure he could scrabble up it.

Getting up it with Sapnap would be harder, but Dream needed to. There wasn't another option.

As they came up on the bank, Dream gathered his strength and used one hand to pull himself out of the river and onto the shore.

He was almost pulled right back in as he tried to hold onto Sapnap, but with a tremendous amount of effort he managed to hold on and pull Sapnap up out of the water.

There wasn't enough space to lay Sapnap out or check on him here. So Dream was forced to suppress his shivering, pull Sapnap onto his back and slowly start up the steep bank towards the opening. He used one hand to keep his friend stable and the other to half crawl, half climb up.

As he climbed, he was acutely aware of the fact he couldn't feel any breathing from the figure on his back.

Although in fairness he also couldn't feel his hands anymore and those were bleeding.

It took ages, but he managed to crest the edge of the cave and pull them both out into the crisp autumn air. As soon as he was out, he fell to the ground. Taking deep breaths in as shakes wracked his body.

He needed to get up. Sapnap needed him.

Summoning what will he had left, Dream opened his inventory and pulled out a few of the potions that XD had given him.

Regen was best for anything that wasn't a gash. XD had even given him strength just in case.

Dream got two of the regen potions, one regular and one topical. Sapnap very clearly couldn't drink the potion so it'd need to do.

Breaking the topical potion's bottle, Dream spread it over his friend's face and neck like he'd been taught. The magic pulsed and fizzled, and for a moment Dream was scared it wouldn't take-

But it did. It glowed a bright pink and then absorbed into his skin.

That meant he was still alive. Okay.

Once that was done, Dream quickly chugged the second regen potion and followed it up with the strength.

The regen stopped the blood and while it didn't erase the cold, it did ease the numbness. The strength tore into the exhaustion eating at him and gave him enough strength to push himself to his feet and pick Sapnap back up.

The regen might've saved Sapnap for now, but he wasn't waking up. He needed to get warm again.

They were close to the entrance of the cave, which wasn't too far from Sapnap's nest. Dream could get him there. He had to.

The journey was a slog, even with the potions boosting him, Sapnap was heavy and Dream was tired and cold.

But he did it!!

Dream managed to get to the edge of the clearing where he and Sapnap usually parted, and after a moment. he pushed towards where Sapnap usually went. Down a little trail, he saw a house.

Relief hit him instantly, and then he saw a figure in the window.

The figure- a man? A demon? (He looked like one from Dream's books, but Dream couldn't be sure), saw him and-

Oh. They were coming outside. They looked upset.

XD had given Dream an invisibility potion, and if his fingers weren't numb and tired, Dream would've probably tried to use it in order to escape. But he couldn't.

The demon was out the door and rushing over and talking and it was way too much. All Dream could do was brace himself and hope that he would at least make sure that Sapnap was okay before he got angry.

[stevetonyweekly]

SteveTony Weekly - December 10th

Here’s a very short list because it’s been a very busy week. Enjoy and be sure to leave your author comment and kudos. 

Triple-A Rated by iam93percentstardust 

Three assassination attempts in two weeks. That's gotta be some kind of record. Three attempts - and that doesn't even count the Ten Rings. Tony's pretty sure that Stane's trying to kill him again. Fury's pretty sure of the same thing, which is why he starts sending agents to protect him. It's just that Tony doesn't like any of his new bodyguards - except one.

Do-Over by gottalovev 

Steve woke up six months ago into a future that leaves him indifferent. There is work, and not much else. His current mission is a basic search and rescue operation to retrieve an American who was kidnapped by a terrorist group ten days ago. He won't let the fact that the hostage is Howard's son be a distraction.

From The Ground Up by thatsweetmysteryoflife 

The first time Steve had seen Tony Stark since SHIELD had fallen, he was on TV.

Or, how a team became a family, and friendship became love.

Unsaid words by Herogers 

And he was moving on.. well, he was getting on with it. It was fine, really.

Well, at least he felt fine, until he saw Tony for the first time in years and the words felt like they were scraping their way up from his chest, begging to be let out.. He was fine. This is work, this is for something more than him, more than both of them. So if the sight of those honey brown eyes piercing through his blues were almost nauseating.. It had to be fine.

Zero to One by magicasen 

Steve returns the Stones, comes back to 2023, names Sam the successor to Captain America, and sets off on his bike. Life is transient, and grief is all-encompassing, until Steve starts dreaming of Tony every night.

Truths and Roses Have Thorns About Them by FestiveFerret 

Steve has a secret. And then he makes a poorly-timed joke to a reporter, and suddenly he has two secrets.

One: He's in love with his best friend.

Two: Despite what the press thinks, they're not actually dating.

and you think love is to pray by StevieVixxen

It’s a betrayal that cuts deep…

Soft Skills by Lady_Ganesh

"So," Bruce said carefully. "You're saying that your tower became a big target for an alien army, so you're going to rebuild it as an even bigger target?"

"Well, when you put it like that, it sounds stupid," Tony said.

The team tries to bring Steve Rogers into the 21st Century. It mostly works.

As my beta CaptainBlue said: Also I love how you did a fic about Avengers team building and still managed to make it 100% about Cap. You have a gift. This is why I love her. Any remaining mistakes are mine.

Think Again by KandiSheek 

Tony doesn't understand why Steve always makes him run laps or do push-ups before sex. Steve doesn't know why Tony doesn't like his kind of foreplay. After all, everyone gets turned on by exercise. Right?

Cat's in the Cradle by Last_Chance_Anna

Steve starts thinking about his father and the affect he had on his life. Tony is there to offer support and comfort.

Santa Claus is Coming to Town by Last_Chance_Anna

Steve and Tony throw a Christmas party, and Steve rediscovers his jealous streak when it comes to Tony. Luckily Tony knows the cure for that. Spoiler alert: It's sex.

Not a Perfect Man by Neverever

Steve and Tony are back on track as friends and spending a lot of time together as they form a new Avengers team. But Steve is again in a rocky relationship with Sharon and Tony is dating a new woman. Steve struggles as his long-dormant crush on Tony comes back with a vengeance because he's supposed to be a good man and he doesn't want to lose Tony as a friend. What is he supposed to do as a friend when Tony's new girlfriend turns out to be not good for Tony?

Running out of Time by Lenalena 

Prompt: "After the events of IM 1, Tony joins the expedition searching for Captain America as a holiday to get away from all the media speculation and stock value crash hate he was getting from the board. He's testing out new kit, working up a new portfolio of technology to boost the company back up, when he finds a plane wreck, buried halfway under the Greenland ice sheet."

That is how he ends up hiding Captain America in plain sight, while the man gets adjusted to the 21st century. He is just doing him a favor, okay?

What could possibly go wrong?

[thewiz9062]

Sleepover Melodies:

Hi this is a oneshot based on my au enjoy

NOTE: THIS IS NOT RELATED TO CANON IN THE SLIGHTEST. An accurate description of this au is that I took every playtime.co poster art and promotional material from the game and lit up the rest of canon in a bonfire. Meaning that EVERY character is part of one big cartoon. Thats it. No bigger bodies project, no child souls, no experiments, just a depiction of a cartoon. PLEASE do not ask me to do anything suggestive with anyone.

Now, a week ago, this would have sent chills down Catnap's spine. Boxy usually wouldn't be around for another three days, and Bobby stopped by earlier, not that she even knew where he lived. No one should have known his location.

There was a knock on the door.

But alot can happen in a week.

"Catnap, whew! I almost thought there was another cabin I should be looking for out here!" The excitable dog greeted him once he opened the door. Catnap stepped out of the way and gestured inside, inviting him in.

After a short moment, Dogday got himself settled and sat on the floor with catnap. "So....uhhh..." Dogday started, "what now?"

Catnap gave him a stare similar that clearly meant 'really?'

Dogday scratched the back of his head, embarrassed. "Okay, I know, I know, I set this up so I should know what to do, but I only asked Kickin what a sleepover was!"

"You guys look a lot less energetic." Dogday stated. Bubba gave him a small 'mhm' in response while Kickin just groaned with his face flat on the table. "What happened?"

"We were supposed to have a sleepover, but SOMEONE decided it be such a great idea to pull an all-nighter." Bubba said, giving the most passive-aggressive side eye to Kickin.

"HEY! YOU STAYED UP TOO!"

"Well, one of us were gonna have to be the sane one, and with the way you were acting, my role was obvious."

They looked like they were about to go on another friendly snark-off, but dogday cut them off with a sentence straight from hell.

"Uh, guys? What's a sleepover?"

"All they did was tell me that you stay over at a friend's house for the night. It slipped my mind!" Dogday defended himself, but Catnap looked unimpressed.

Dogday deflated at his expression, and Catnap was quick to shoot him a look that could be described as an apology to rectify his mistake.

"No no, it's okay, we can fix this!" Dogday scanned the room. "We can just, uh, make our own rules! Yeah! That'll work!" He got up and started to take a closer look at the things Catnap had.

...There wasn't much.

Maybe a stray plate or something similar, but other than that, Catnap's cabin was just barely filled with the necessities to live.

Time passed, and eventually, it got dark. A single candle lit up the room. Dogday was still trying to find something to do while Catnap sat in the middle of the room, tired. Dogday was about to go report and possibly apologize to Catnap for the uneventful evening, but stopped in his tracks when he heard... singing?

He turned to see where the source was coming from, and lo and behold, it was Catnap. Dogday quietly went over to where Catnap was seated and sat next to him. Catnap seemed to be in his own world at the moment. Dogday listened until the end before complimenting him. "That was amazing!!"

Catnap basically leaped, not having noticed Dogday's presence. He took a moment to recall events and then proceeded to bury his face in his hands due to embarrassment. "No, no, it was really good! Do you do that often?" Catnap shook his head no. "Do you know any more?" Catmap paused for a moment, as if thinking, then nodded.

"Can you sing it?" Catnap looked surprised at the question. "I meant it when I said I liked it!" Catnap thought about it and decided to sing again.

Once the song was finished, he looked over, and Dogday was sound asleep. He got up and grabbed the two blankets he had. He covered Dogday, and after a few moments of difficulty, he fell asleep as well.

When Dogday was about to leave in the morning, he felt the need to apologize, looking down at his feet. "Um, I just wanted to say sorry for, you know, taking you out of routine for something I had no idea how to even do-"

"No."

Dogday looked up at Catnap, who was giving him one of his rare smiles. "I enjoyed it."

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

My children jsysbsisgd I enjoyed writing this even tho tumblr nearly deleted it from my drafts

[starkstruck27]

My next fill for @metalsandwichbingo !! This fic and three of my others are all going to be chapters of the same story, though I don't know yet if I will post them consecutively or with others in between. I'll post the chapter titles too so that you'll know. The story itself is basically supposed to be like a cop drama like Law & Order, and I hope everyone enjoys it as much as I do.

Title: Lights and Sirens, pt. 1

Chapter Title: Songbirds Will Sing

Square + Prompt: C3, "Start at the beginning, and when you come to the end, stop."

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 3231 words

Major Tags: Graphic Depictions of Violence

Additional Tags: Pre-Relationship, Alternate universe, Cop Steve Harrington, Murder, Dixie Mafia, Cop Drama

Summary: As Detective Steve Harrington tries to solve a cold case murder from a few years ago, a curveball is thrown at him in the form of an old acquaintance from high school, Eddie Munson. He says that his friend, Billy Hargrove, has a crime to report, and the three start meeting up to gather evidence on Billy's father, who is part of the Dixie Mafia and has a wealthy with power as well as money. As the trio work together to solve the crime, their lives are put on the line, and they have to decide what is really most important to them; solving the case, or saving each other.

Also on: Ao3

The phones in the police station were ringing off the hook. At this point, it became like a white noise for most of the detectives, and unless they could feel their desks vibrating from the sounds of the machines, none of them could really even hear it anymore. And for some, even the tremors of the wood wasn’t enough to catch their attention, not if they were truly invested in their work. Detective Harrington was one of those detectives, and until his partner, Detective Buckley, pointed it out, he hadn’t even noticed it was still sitting there. He answered his phone, but it was a wrong number, and so he went back to reading over his case file, annoyed at the interruption.

“Hey,” Robin said, walking over with a cup of coffee in hand, “Earth to Steve. What’re you so invested in over there?”

“This case, Robin, it’s bugging me,” he said, not taking his eyes off the papers. “Y’know that shootout that happened the other day at that restaurant downtown?”

“Yeah, it was pretty cut and dry. Those kids got the guns and didn’t know how to use them so of course chaos ensued. What about it?”

“I don’t know. First of all, I don’t think those kids actually did anything, I think they were just the fall guys. There’s no way that they didn’t know how to use those guns, shot up the place by accident, and only managed to injure the mayor and his son. If their story were true, that place would’ve been a bloodbath, but it wasn’t. And not only that, but I just got the ballistics back. The bullets used are rare, only manufactured in some parts of the world, and yet, a cold case from a few years ago turned up with the same bullets. It was only six miles away from where the shooting occurred this week,” Steve explained, finally looking up at her. “That’s not a coincidence, Robin, it can’t be.”

“Okay, so what was the cold case?” Robin asked, scooching closer and trying to read over Steve’s shoulder.

“A woman was murdered a few miles out of town in the middle of the night. Nobody saw anything, and there were absolutely no witnesses. We didn’t have any missing persons reports around that time, but this woman, whoever she was, then turned up dead with two shots to the head and one to the heart. And what’s worse, the killer stayed to cut up and disfigure her face so that nobody could identify her. He burned off her fingerprints, cut out all her teeth, left no ID on her, and unfortunately, she wasn’t in the system so we had no luck with DNA. Jane Doe’s killer is still out there, and we have no idea what happened to her. But I know it has something to do with this shooting, I can feel it in my gut.”

“Is it that, or is the extra pepperoni and sausage pizza you had for dinner not agreeing with you?” Robin said, taking a sip of her coffee. Usually quips like this would make Steve smile and bring him out of whatever kind of funk he was in, but not tonight. He rolled his eyes and went back to staring at his case file, hoping to find some kind of evidence linking the two incidents.

It wasn’t long after he’d gotten back into the files when a man walked into the station and right up to his desk, grinning as he leaned up against it to get his attention.

“Can I help you?” Steve asked, still not looking up.

“God, I sure hope so,” an oddly familiar voice quipped, “Otherwise I just drove thirty-six miles across town in the pouring rain for nothing.”

Steve finally looked up now, and his suspicions were confirmed. The man standing before him was dressed in a black leather jacket, biker gloves, a white t-shirt, and had his hair pulled back into a loose ponytail, and Steve knew the smile on his face. It was Eddie, a guy he’d gone to high school with, and hadn’t seen for years, except in the mugshots that crossed his desk every so often. They never stayed though, Eddie was always bailed out by the company he worked for, Hargrove Industries, and there was never enough evidence to prove he had done anything wrong, so with a fancy corporate lawyer on his side, Eddie almost always got off scot-free. Why a petty criminal had just walked into a police station voluntarily, though, that was a question that made Steve look away from the file on his desk and sigh as he motioned for Eddie to sit down.

“So, Munson, to what do I owe this pleasure? You need someone to stamp your latest desk ticket?” Steve asked, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. 

“Aw, don’t be like that Stevie! What happened to the fun loving guy you used to be? The guy who would throw parties for the entire class and come to me to supply-” Steve nearly jumped out of his chair to cut him off.

“What are you, nuts?! You can’t be saying that kind of stuff in here!” He hissed, his mood souring even more as Eddie just grinned at him.

“Oh, I’m just messing with you,” he said, waving it off. “Actually, I came in here to report a crime.”

“Oh, how the tables have turned…” Steve muttered as he got out the necessary papers and a pen. He didn’t really know what Eddie was playing at yet, but if there really was a crime here, he was going to make damn sure it dealt with. “So, tell me what happened.”

“Don’t worry, Detective, I know the drill,” Eddie was still smiling, but it faltered a bit as he started to go into more detail. “So, I have this… this friend, and he works with me at his dad’s company. He was actually the one who first told me to come in and report this, and I almost didn’t, but he’s a good friend and he needed my help, so here I am. Anyway, he told me-”

“Wait, hold on a second,” Steve cut Eddie off, putting down his pen and folding his hands. “Whatever crime you’re trying to report, were you actually there when it happened?”

“I mean, I’m sure I was there for some of it. A lot goes on at that company, man, nobody can be there for everything, but my friend is trustworthy, I promise. If he says something happened, something happened.”

“I believe you, Eddie, but unless you were there and witnessed a crime being committed, I can’t do anything about it. It’s hearsay otherwise, and it won’t hold up in court. And because of double Jeopardy, we can’t get justice for the crime without new evidence, so if you tell me this now, whatever happened can go unprosecuted,” Steve explained, sighing as Eddie’s face fell. “However, if you can get this friend down here to talk to me, and he was present when the crime took place, then we might have something. Can you get him down here?”

“Probably not,” Eddie sighed, “The whole reason I came is because if he were to come into a police station, his life might be at risk. See, he doesn’t just work for the company, it’s owned by his dad, and he’s not a good dude. He’s done a lot of bad things to a lot of people, and he has no qualms about doing them to his family, either. That’s why my friend asked me to come and report it, because he can’t.”

“Well, unfortunately, you can’t, either,” Steve shook his head, thinking for a minute. “Is there any way that he could meet us at a neutral location, like a coffee shop or something? Somewhere he frequents that nobody would think is odd for him to go? All I need is a statement from him, and then I can start investigating, but I can’t do anything until then, so if he really wants this reported, we need to work something out.”

Eddie looked down for a minute, thinking, but then his face brightened. “There was this diner his Ma liked. He still goes there a lot when he needs a break from being around his old man. I’ll talk to him and see if he’d be willing to go and talk to you there.”

“Alright, good,” Steve said, smiling a bit as he stood and shook Eddie’s hand, then gave him a business card, “Whenever you guys are ready, give me a call and we’ll set up a time to meet.”

It took a couple of days for Steve to hear back from Eddie, apparently it took a lot of convincing for his friend to come and meet up with him, but finally, Steve sat in a booth at a little hole-in-the-wall diner, waiting for them to arrive. He had a recorder in his pocket and a yellow legal pad and pen sitting next to him, and as he sipped his coffee and studied the menu, he finally saw the two he was waiting for walking over to him. 

Eddie was leading the way, followed by a shorter man dressed in a nice tailored suit. He had blonde hair and striking blue eyes, and a nice smile, which he showcased as he waved to a few of the staff members, most of them seeming to know him well. When he and Eddie finally got to the booth, they both slid into the same side, and a waitress immediately came over to take their order.

“Hiya, Billy,” she said, smiling widely as she took out her order pad. Her name tag said ‘Max’ in curly red letters that matched her hair. “How’ve you been?”

“Good enough, I guess. How’re you? How’s your grandma doing?” He asked, picking up a sugar packet and tapping it idly on the table.

“Oh, she’s fine. She’s been complaining non-stop about having to take it easy since she caught that cold, but she should be back down here ordering me around in another day or two, tops. She’d love to see you, though. Maybe stop upstairs and say hi before you leave?” Max said, and Billy promised he’d do just that. After that, she took their orders, and once that was done, she left them alone.

“Jesus, I knew you came here a lot, but I didn’t know you were that close with the staff,” Eddie smiled as he nudged Billy.

“Well, I practically grew up here. Even after my mom died, I still consider most of the staff my family. Max is like the annoying little sister I never had,” Billy explained, tossing the sugar packet at the girl as she passed by again. It hit her in the back, and as she returned with a fresh round of coffee, she teased him and said he didn’t get any until he apologized, sticking her tongue out at him. He said he was sorry and stuck his tongue out, too, then took his coffee from her as she left again. It was only then, as he took his first sip of coffee, that he seemed to remember that Steve was there, and he quickly put his cup down and sat up a bit straighter. 

“So, um, I guess we should get started, shouldn’t we?” He asked, clearing his throat and sticking out his hand. “I apologize for being so rude, I’m Billy Hargrove, it’s nice to meet you, Detective.”

“Likewise,” Steve replied, shaking his hand before reaching into his pocket and getting out the recorder. “So, this isn’t an interrogation, it’s just an interview. I’m only taking your statement, and since you’re not under arrest, I won’t be reading you your rights. With that being said, none of this would be admissible in court, so please, don’t hold anything back because you think you’ll be in trouble for it. Just tell me everything. Start at the beginning, and when you come to the end, stop.”

The little red light on the recorder was switched on, and Steve nodded, waiting for Billy to start talking. Eddie patted his shoulder when he hesitated, and then, after a sigh and another sip of coffee, he finally did.

“It’s been going on for years, before I was even born, probably. My dad was born into money and privilege, so I guess he figured the rules don’t apply to him, and he acts accordingly. He’s done a lot of messed up stuff over the years. Money laundering, tax fraud, and bribery are just the tip of the iceberg. He’s beaten, tortured and killed men right in front of me, ever since I was maybe nine or ten years old. He’s raped women, but none of them ever came forward, because he always bought them off. I can’t prove it, but I’m pretty sure that’s how he met my mother. She worked here at the time and I think he was obsessed with her or something, because he hired her at the company as a secretary or something, and she told me once that she doesn’t remember a lot of that time, only bits and pieces. But he married her when she found out she was pregnant with me, so I guess she didn’t care to know.

“Still, they never got along. She would end up back here with me every six months or so, but she always went back to him for some reason or another. That is, until he eventually got fed up with her leaving so often that he killed her. A couple of years ago, they went out for a date and Mom never came back. Dad said that she got pissed at him, got out of the car and walked away, and he figured she’d just hail a cab back home once she blew off some steam. But she never came back, and when I checked around here to see if anyone had heard from her, nobody had. There was no way that she would’ve left without telling someone. Her best friend Susan still works here, that’s Max’s mom, and we agreed that there wasn’t a chance in Hell that she would leave and not tell at least one of us where she was going. 

“Then, a couple of days later, I turned on the news and saw that the police had found the unidentifiable remains of a woman a few miles away from the restaurant they said they were going to that night, and I knew it was her, and I knew he had killed her. But I couldn’t prove it, and I knew about the double Jeopardy law, so I said to myself that I wouldn’t tell anyone that I knew until I had undeniable proof that it was him. I was just waiting for some kind of slip-up, something that he would do that would finally be solid proof that he did it. And until the other day, I didn’t have any. But then, he sent some of his goons to send the Mayor a message, and they had to be discreet about it, so they went in with pistols instead of machine guns or something like they normally would. 

“One of the pistols was my dad’s personal gun from a few years ago, he always had it on him, but since the night my mom died, he never picked it up again. He said it jammed too often so he got a better one, but I guess he saw this as a perfect opportunity to pin the murder of my mom on a random person by making it look like the gun he used was one that was just circulating around on the street, being bought and sold and somehow ending up with these kids, but I know better. He was waiting for an opportunity to get rid of it, but he shouldn’t have done that, because now I have what I need to come to you and get him locked up for life. He deserves more than that, but I’d rather see him rotting in a cell than going to one myself for giving him exactly what he deserves.”

“And do you have any way of proving that the gun was his? A registration record, a serial number, anything?” Steve asked, hoping for a miracle.

“Nah, he got most of his guns illegally and never registered them. He always wears gloves to handle them and has the serial numbers filed off before he ever even picks them up. But I could get you one of the bullets, if that’d help,” Billy said, tapping another sugar packet on the table.

“Well, first things first, we have to confirm that the body we found was actually that of your mother. Would you be willing to give me a DNA sample to compare to hers?” Steve asked, and Billy nodded quickly. Steve took a cotton swab out of a plastic container and reached across the table to swab the inside of Billy’s mouth, and once he had done it, he resealed the swab in the container and put it into a spare evidence bag. He’d take it down to the lab personally as soon as this little meeting was over. 

“Thank you,” he said as he tucked the evidence bag into his jacket pocket. “Now, if this checks out, we’ll do what we can to reopen the case. In the meantime, is there any way that we can get probable cause for a warrant to search your father’s home and office? I can’t have you bring me any bullets, because if it were to go to trial, the defense would argue that you had done everything, and we don’t want that.”

“What kind of things could I bring you?” Billy asked.

“Anything that proves some other crime took place, as long as you don’t steal anything. If there are records of his finances that are available to anyone working in the company, any kind of public information that would point a finger at him for something, as long as you don’t steal anything private, or it could get thrown out in court and we could lose our chances of getting a warrant. It may take a while to find something like that, but we have plenty of time. There’s no statute of limitations on murder, so no matter what, we can nail him, as long as we take our time,” Steve explained, and Billy and Eddie both nodded. 

He checked his watch then, and realized that the lab would be closing soon, so he took one last sip of his coffee and gathered his things, tossing some cash on the table, as well as another of his business cards. 

“I have to get going, but if you find anything that could help us get a warrant, give me a call, and we’ll set up another time to meet. In the meantime, lie low, and be careful. I’ll be in touch,” Steve said as he stood up. He shook both men’s hands before he left, and then hurried to his car. After nearly four years, he finally had a break in the case, and he just hoped he’d be able to nail the bastard before anyone else got hurt.

[blueflyingturtleontheway]

Streak

Gabe puts himself together and makes a list.

Fandom: Elena of Avalor

Characters: Gabriel Nuñez, others mentioned

Other: rundown of basically the whole show, angst, no happy ending, no resolution, monologue

Word count: 1086

Gabe rubbed the coarse towel on his head, ruffling his still wet hair. He felt a little lighter now, calmer, like he could finally start putting his thoughts in order.

It all started four years ago already. He should've taken a hint when he let himself and Isabel be kidnapped on his very first day on the job. And not long after he let Fiero in to that party where he turned everybody into stone, and then almost made it impossible for Elena to defeat Orizaba, when she first discovered her scepter's powers. He didn't really shine that first year of his service.

He froze for a moment when he realised what he just said sounded like a pun. He pinched the bridge of his nose in shame. He really needed to take a break from both Mateo and Elena.

His most embarrassing failure to this day though, was probably taking El Guapo's sword back when he was competing for his post. It was selfish, it was dangerous, it was breaking the law - and it was just so stupid. And the worst part was that during those two days when Guapo was possessing his body, there were moments when he didn't want him gone. There were moments where he was glad - delighted - that he was stronger, he was faster, he was more confident, and just how difficult it was to decide to actually use Mateo's cure. There were moments back then when he finally felt like a true knight.

His gaze absentmindedly went to the training dummy set aside in the corner and felt the fresh abrasions on his knuckles burn. Nowadays he often wondered if he wasn't too similar to the cursed general. If maybe Mateo's potion didn't work completely and some part of the ghost was left in him. But he always quickly abandoned these thoughts.

His first year as captain wasn't much better than as a lieutenant. He didn't notice anything off about Rita for the weeks that she's been around. He was just as fooled as Mateo and just as dismissive to Naomi as Elena's been. And then he even let Shuriki herself into the palace. Shuriki. The one worst nightmare Avalor had to face in the past half a century and he didn't even notice though he might've passed her himself in the crowd. That would be it, in terms of his security skills.

He reached for his uniform that he's left on the chair earlier and slowly took to buttoning it up.

And what followed - oh stars, what followed. In the weeks after Shuriki returned they all - he, Naomi, Elena, Mateo, even Isa - they all could've died a thousand times over. And during all of that. He. Was. Useless. He lost the scepter piece to Shuriki, he couldn't help Isa when Shuriki set the tower on fire. Magic fire. And he was powerless against magic, against wizards, against scepters.

He squeezed the comb in his hand until its teeth painfully drove into his palm. He took a few breaths in and out before he turned to the mirror.

Then of course he got captured by Fiero during the battle of Nueva Vista and let the Delgados escape. And if he wasn't good at keeping criminals away, he was even worse at finding them. He spent what? Three months? Four? Chasing Delgados all throughout the country, combing through every inch of the jungle and every abandoned house and he would've never found them if they didn't reveal themselves. Not to mention that he couldn't capture them even when they basically served themselves on a silver platter.

He took the report from his desk and skimmed the even lines of text one last time. He let out a sigh before putting it in a file.

He seemed to be getting worse at his job actually. They had them all imprisoned, even the ex chancellor when he turned out to be a criminal too. And finally everything seemed to be over, everything seemed to be well and almost too good to be true. Well, it was definitely too good to last. He let his guard down, he allowed himself a moment to relax and those dangerous criminals escaped, again. And again on his watch. And he wasn't even able to catch Ash and Esteban despite being right behind them. He wouldn't have caught the other two if one of them didn't get turned to stone and the other gave up.

He stopped for a moment before the mirror to make sure he looked presentable. He took a few deep breaths, unfurrowed his brows. He already had to explain himself of one thing, he didn't need any extra attention to his shortcomings.

Doña Paloma's words stung when he heard them, of course. It hurt even more knowing that two of his friends agree with her. But what was probably the worst was that deep down he knew she was right. Why was he still leading the guard? And how long was he still going to? He now saw that the moment someone more skilled, more competent came along, he was going to lose his position. He was replaceable.

He controlled his pace through the palace corridors, even though he wanted to get it over with as soon as possible. He answered with a nod to a salute, when he passes the guard posted before the treasury.

But that's why he was taking action. There were enough fights where he was knocked out, his sword cast away and he was simply useless. But he was going to do better. He had a plan now he just- he just can't make such stupid mistakes as he did today. He has to do better.

He raised his head high as he reached with fist towards the door and took one last deep breath.

Was it really so bad that he finally wanted to show what he's worth?

[breesays]

My son, my sun

Where did my little boo learn to talk to plants? We take plant babies from Gramma Lita's massive yard, recently started propagating them in water. Nothing for the first couple of weeks. Then Des said, "Mama, let me hold them" - and he took the bulb in his hand, looked lovingly at that little would-be-could-be plant and spoke to it in a way that astonished me. "You are so beautiful" he said. "You are doing such a good job. I am so happy to see you." I died, they thrived.

Four nights ago we unwrapped a fragrant bath bomb and I said, "Mmm, rose" and he started serenading me, from the "wonderful roses" part of "Til There Was You" and who can even do that? I feel like if I want to sing something, even casually, I have to start from the top. He vocalizes the percussion part of songs. Chh chh chh. Probably not revolutionary, but something new for my brain.

Some of the moms who got a spot in TK are reporting back that one of their kids "goals" for the year is to count to 20. Oh. Des can count to 100, and in Spanish. The other day he taught me how to say "knees" in Spanish, which is when I found out he can sing "Head Shoulders Knees and Toes" in a second language. He remembers numbers really well, and has a good grasp of time. He can math way more at 4 years old than I could at like, 7 years old - and that's just because it's interesting to him, measurements and doubling things and how old was his friend Felix when he turned 2? Sometimes I just have to say, "That is a calculation I can't do on the fly, buddy."

He's growing his hair out long so he can make it curly, like his friend Vienna and his cousin Emerson. I wish he liked to read books together more, but maybe that will come later. It's OK if that's an interest we don't share. We make up new words until we're too tired, me channeling the IKEA catalog. Sometimes he says, "I have an idea - let's count to the highest number we know" to which I reply, "That does not sound like fun to mama, can we play a word game instead?" He also loves blowing up and popping balloons. Actually, he loves doing a lot of things with balloons - keepy uppy, birdy-flying, inflating then deflating, using them as stamps, talking about them on his imaginary YouTube channel...

He likes to eat seaweed snacks and will basically try any food at least once. He loves tomatoes, so much so that he will eat them like an apple. He steals my sushi and told me the pumpkin seeds needed "more paprika."

He makes funny observations. I took him to my work party recently and I told him Erica was in charge. When we looked back at photos from that night he asked, "Does Erica ever go home?" I said "Yes, of course, she has two kiddos of her own - why do you think that she doesn't?" He said, "Well, she's in charge."

My therapist is retiring at the end of the year, and then I won't have anyone to tell me what's healthy or adjusted anymore. I told her that sometimes Desmond says, "You know, Mama, I love Dada more than you." I respond: "That's OK, my love for you doesn't change." It doesn't hurt me, it makes me curious - what is he trying to accomplish? That non-judgemental curiosity they tried to summon from the depth of my cold being during the "can we save this marriage?" time - there it is! Therapist said: It's remarkable that he even vocalized this. It's called secure attachment.

For awhile I also wondered - does Des need therapy during this transition? He has asked why we don't live together anymore and I said, "not all families live together" - but all the families he knew of, did. So we got a couple books. Representation. Therapist said: Unless he is acting out, or it's disrupting, he is ok. Again, the fact that he's even asking these questions is GREAT. I do a value a good question-asker.

I'm still writing my book of essays and I've recently hit 38K words. I've considered publishing under a pseudonym, because I don't want to FIGHT about asexuality. I just want some previously unlearned people to know that it EXISTS. I publish most of my revelations and feelings about being Ace on my Medium. The blog that upset him was titled "Ace Week 2023" - and posted on Medium. I didn't have the time or mental capacity to react at the time. I just chose not to. Spiral, if you must - I will not add any fuel. But I did feel mad, when I unboxed that compartmentalization --

Sometimes I want to be kind and gentle and empathic because, wow we didn’t know anything, did we? There wasn’t the vocabulary for what I was experiencing. There were no alternate storylines to draw inspiration from. But sometimes I am furious, violated, underestimated. 

If you just light the path, everyone will find their own way there, right? I’m the deer in headlights, then I run towards the inevitable crash. Scampering off into the unlit wild was somehow more intimidating. So, blind yourself. Numb yourself. Anything to get to the other side.