#from the cracks of my brain...

[deep-spacediver577]

[sihbisu]

Did a lil thing :3

[rynli]

just wanted to let you know i do possess a brain. btw.

[mugwot]

someone

[circledwithaheart]

update: now posted to ao3

Buck is a few shots deep (when did he switch to shots?) with his new bar buddy. An attractive older guy who, as it turns out, also used to work at the 118 under Captain Nash.

"You worked with Bobby?" Buck lights up and rambles on before the guy can answer. "That means you must've worked with Hen and Chim, right?"

The guy mumbles a few things that Buck can't hear, and probably doesn't want to, before confirming he worked with Hen and Howie.

"Yeah, right. Howie. You know he married my sister? Gave me the cutest little niece." Buck beams and pulls out his phone to show off the album of Jee Yun photos. And then the other thought strikes again.

They look about the same age. It's possible, he thinks. Well, it's not impossible. Buck goes to pocket his phone again, only he misses his shirt entirely and it clatters on the table.

"Sorry 'bout that, uh, so if you worked with them- did you, uh, work with, uh, T-tommy? Tommy Kinard?"

Why is the name that used to slide off his tongue so easily now trip and stutter like it doesn't belong there?

The guy laughs, not seeming to notice Buck's elocution issues, and takes another shot. “Fuck, I’m getting too old for this shit.”

He spins the empty shot glass like a top. “Kinard? Yep, sure did. One of the best partners I could've asked for. At least he got to leave on his own terms.”

Buck furrows his brow, something familiar scratching at the back of his tequila addled brain. “What, uh, what did you say your name was again?”

“I didn’t,” the guy says matter of factly.

“But, you seem like a nice guy, so I'll tell you," he adds with a wink. "It’s Deluca. Sal Deluca.”

Buck's heard the name, a few stories here and there. Heard he moved to the 122, but doesn't know why.

"You transferred, right?" Buck asks cautiously.

The guy - Sal - shrugs his acknowledgement. "More or less. Anyway, I guess I better amend my introduction then. It's actually Captain Deluca. But Sal is fine. Or just Deluca."

"Buck."

Sal looks at him like he's got three heads. "Is that something new the kids are saying these days or...?"

"No, uh, 's m'name. Buck. Well, Evan Buckley, but you can call me Buck."

Sal studies him for a second before holding a hand out. "Nice to meet you, kid."

They shake hands and Buck thinks about the way Sal called him 'kid'. It's not like when Tommy said it. More like Bobby or Chim. Familial.

"Sorry to drink and run, but I gotta get home," Sal says, pushing out of his chair. "Wife's gonna kill me if I'm home too late."

"Oh, yeah. Sure. Maybe I'll see you around."

"Yeah, maybe." Then he's throwing some cash on the table and walking away.

~~~~~

As soon as he's out of sight, Sal taps on the camera app. It's probably a little unethical to surreptitiously be taking photos of the kid- Buck- but it's for a good cause.

Once upon a time he might have tried to pick him up, something about the kicked puppy look pulls at his heartstrings. Among other things. But now he's a happily married man with a whole brood to think about. Gina really would kill him, decorated fire captain or not.

He swipes over to messages and fires off a quick text.

Met your boy tonight. Christ Kinard he’s as bad as you. Should really put yourselves out of your collective misery.

It doesn't take long before the bubbles appear.

I did, remember? It's better this way.

Sal attaches the picture this time.

Better for who, exactly?

The bubbles appear and disappear again, until his screen eventually goes dark and no more responses come. Sal sighs and gets in the cab of his truck, contemplating another text, but ultimately decides against it. Tommy will talk when he's ready.

He steals another glance through the giant plate glass window where Buck is still sitting, sullen and lost, albeit with what looks like water this time.

"I hope it works out, kid, and he doesn't wait too long." Sal pushes aside the phantom acrid scent of a dinner forgotten in the oven while they fucked on the kitchen floor, the fear in Tommy's eyes when Sal asked when they could tell people about them. Because it had been months of sneaking around to each other's apartments. Of being more than just work partners- or so he thought. "Maybe he'll get his head out of his ass before it's too late this time."

[crystallizsch]

"sweet merciful sands"

i blame this fucking meme

it was so hard drawing this without taking a minute to compose myself omg

[bastardcatthings]

one of the reasons gax compels me is that while all the other ships are stressing over whether their guys are on good terms or not, gax girlies are like: "based on the tearful accounts of one of them, the other one has threatened to kill him. we think they should kiss about it."

[queenie-ofthe-void]

Robin: Hey Eddie, isn't Steve the best?! He's funny in a dingus sorta way, and fills out that sweater nice. Right? Riiiiight??? *nudge nudge* Dustin: Hey Eddie, aren't Robin and Steve such a cute couple?? You should hang out with them more, especially Steve, he talks about you all the time. And honestly he could use a little positive male influence in his life. You'd really like them just give them a chance! Steve: Hey Eddie, would you uh *blushing frantically* want to see a movie sometime? Together? Unless that's weird I mean I could totally invite Robin if that's... cool? If you'd want her there too? The three of us... or just us?? *dying internally* Eddie: ... Eddie: Am I being set up for a three way??

[kwoojii]

brainlayer shenanigans... :(

[fatedroses]

More than just the Demon.

[delineate-creates]

Day 19: Ridge

[quotidianish]

If nobody got me I know ice themed characters got me

[sleepy-steve]

🧠🪱 Wiggly Wednesday Thursday 🧠 🪱

thank you for tagging me @stervrucht 🖤

no pressure tags: @frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe @stevesbipanic and of course anyone else that would like to ♡

thinking about Steve and Eddie who, after going through rounds of physical therapy after everything, continue to work out together because Steve obviously loves it and loves having a friend to work out with. and Eddie notices the difference in his stamina when he gets back to performing on stage. (and if Eddie likes to watch Steve work out a little bit, and likes Steve coming over to help his form more than a little bit, well that’s his business.) but Steve takes a dance class and shakes up his usual warmup, leaving Eddie with some… thoughts.

***

“Okay, Munson,” Steve says, pulling his arm across his body for a shoulder stretch. “You ready?”

“Ready to be tortured? Always,” Eddie jokes. It was their thing. Eddie acts like he hates being there, but he still shows up every other day to their local gym in Indianapolis. And he won’t ever deny the benefits he’s noticed since starting their exercise regime. He's faster on stage, doesn't get winded near as easily, holding those screaming notes without feeling like his lungs will explode. Little did he know that today his joke would come to be true.

Steve liked most kinds of exercise. He was a sporty guy. He liked the pull and stretch of his muscles, the feeling of accomplishment after achieving a new goal, that delicious soreness the day after a really good workout. But mostly he loved trying new things. He’d give anything half a chance if he thought it might be fun. Which is how he ended up at a dance-aerobics class the week prior, finding himself having a lot of fun, blushing furiously when the women in the class complimented how quickly he picks up the steps.

He went back three more times that week. Part of his enjoyment came from the new warmup he was taught in the class. Steve’s usual warmup consisted of basic stretches and a light jog, covering all bases to ensure he didn’t get injured, but not very exciting.

This, however, was far more enjoyable. Steve found himself sinking deep into stretches he didn't know he had flexibility for, and moving his hips to a beat, ultimately just having way more fun with the warmup. And it was about to become a huge problem for Eddie.

Steve pops his headphones over his ears, the tape deck tucked securely in his shorts pocket. He bends over, inhaling deeply as the song starts, rising up with his hands overhead, exhaling as he rolls his wrists, hips moving side to side with the beat. His already short cropped t-shirt rises, showing off a good amount of his chest. He lets his arms come down, bending over again, feeling the pull in his hamstrings. Gripping his elbows, he lets the top half of his body hang, swinging from side to side, his hamstrings fully stretched out.

Eddie looks up from his own basic stretching, shocked to see Steve fully bent over, because hey, since when was he so flexible? With Metallica blaring through his own headphones, Eddie just stares, completely forgetting where he was at in his warmup.

Steve lets his hands drop, moving to one foot, back to the centre, then the other foot. Ass just up in the air, his shorts way too tight. Eddie swallows. He’d been denying his crush for months at this point, and good god this was not helping.

Rolling his shoulders as he stands up, Steve lets his hands travel down his bare thighs, sinking into a squat with his back arched and head tilted back. Eddie's eyes are wide as he watches those tight little shorts with the little cut-ins on the sides ride up, showing far more of Steve's glorious hairy thighs than Eddie can handle. Steve drops his head forward, hunching his shoulders as he moves back to standing. He repeats the motions, and Eddie wishes he had the strength to pull his stare away from Steve's ass.

Seeing Steve's head tilted back and his back arched is sending Eddie insane. Like, he geninely thinks he might evaporate on the spot if he keeps watching. But he just can't look away.

Turning himself sideways, Steve has one foot stepped out in front of the other, legs perfectly straightened into a triangle shape, bent over his front leg. Just when Eddie thinks he’s about to get up and end his suffering, Steve lowers himself down into a lunge. His little shorts definitely way too small and tight for the movement, Steve lunges back and forth, fingertips resting on the ground on either side of his front foot. Eddie watches as the t-shirt rides up with each lunge, the desire to get his lips and tongue all over Steve's chest overwhelming him.

Shaking himself, Eddie tries to remember which shoulder stretch he was up to. He attempts something close to a stretch, but he can’t be sure he's doing it right, because Steve has lowered himself to the ground, front leg bent and back leg perfectly straight, and is fucking thrusting into the ground. If he were to ask Steve, he’d find out this was a hip flexor stretch. But Eddie’s forgotten how to form words entirely, suddenly imagining nineteen different ways he wants to get dicked down by the man before him.

Eddie suffers in silence, heart racing in his chest, watching as Steve repeats the movements on his other side. He prays that the torture ends soon, that they can just get to the workout, and Eddie can go back to pretending he doesn't want to ride Steve until his thighs give out. But Eddie gets no such luck.

Steve has moved into some kind of triangle position, hands on the ground, legs straight, and of fucking course, his ass in the air. Eddie marvels at how straight the shape is, only for a moment, because then Steve is lifting his heels up and down in turn, and jesus christ those tiny little shorts are just riding up, and Eddie can see a hint of Steve's ass peeking out. His jaw drops. He may actually explode.

Just when Eddie's thinking he can't take much more of this, Steve lowers himself down, knees spread wide, arms stretched out in front of him and head tucked down. A wild and rushed series of thoughts fly across Eddie's mind, all centred around Steve kneeling down in front of him. Eddie needs to get it together quickly.

As Steve brings himself back up to the triangle position, walking his feet to meet his hands and rolling his spine up, shoulders and head rolling back last, he sees Eddie taking off for his warmup jog. Assuming that he probably just took too long with his new warmup, Steve shrugs it off and starts his jog shortly after.

Eddie hits his personal best in several weights that day, desperately trying to expend his excess energy in some way. He barely registers the wins, mind still stuck on Steve and his perfect ass in all those new positions. He almost dissolves on the spot when Steve claps him on the shoulder in congratuations.

At the end of their session, Eddie takes a freezing cold shower and prays for the sweet release of death.

[astracora]

Sylus tender holding. Sylus tender holding.

The arm around your back as he lays you down and kisses you.

The hand around your shoulder to keep you close.

The hand on the waist while you sit on his lap.

HAS TO BE TOUCHING YOU CONSTANTLY. HAS TO BE HOLDING ON.

[yashley]

Say something true!

[ideasloading]

 Xianxia Google was a Mistake

The public spiritual array search function is a miraculous invention from the palace of Ling Wen that had been installed just days before His Highness of Xianle´s third ascension: A way for all heavenly officials to bring their less urgent questions to an automated deliverer of answers anywhere and anywhere without piling Ling Wen and her junior officials with frankly unnecessary inquiries unrelated to their missions or their palace’s bureaucracy. It basically functions like a spiritual tool that picks up on key words inside the user´s uttered question and then scours Ling Wen´s available scriptures and books for a fitting answer, delivering it within seconds and at most minutes.

This delay of a few minutes is normally due to something unusual or downright forbidden being asked, which is hence then brought to Ling Wen for her to decide whether or not the answer should be denied from reaching the official or if it was a false system alarm and the process can go ahead.

Today - the day His Highness had been sent to Ghost City to rescue the Earth Master - she receives the..."unusual" kind.

In front of her pops up a cyan screen made of spiritual energy, displaying the words: Question from: His Highness of Xianle, Martial God Xie Lian Asked from: Ghost City, Gambler´s Den; At 22:54 o´clock.

Posed question (quoted): "Is Hua Cheng (System Note: Hua Cheng = Crimson Rain Sought Flower, Ghost King; highly dangerous - avoid if possible) single? (⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)"

Ling Wen drops her brush in shock, yet her face remains too frozen in shock to show more than a dead-pan openly. After a moment of tense silence, she asks no one in particular: "Huh?"

That´s when another question - from the same person pops up on a different system screen: "If not, do Ghost Kings typically accept concubines? o.O"

"Your Highness?!"

And then /another/ screen pops up, all slowly surrounding Ling Wen from every side. This one asks: "How to apply to be Hua Cheng´s concubine? Is there a test I have to pass? (・・?"

She can´t even let out a tired breath before the final question arrives, popping up right in front of her face: "Does softly touching my hand and teaching me how to roll dice in a rather sensual manner mean he accepts my proposal even though I haven´t said anything yet? San Lang is so smart: He could tell right away! (＾ｖ＾)"

Without hesitation, Ling Wen disables the entire search engine, unwillingly to risk being potentially asked intercourse related question by the virgin Highness before the current shichen stick smouldering away at the edge of her desk is burned out.

She lets her head fall into her hands and sighs deeply. His Highness sure is something.