leashybebes

[leashybebes]

U want something and then when u get it it’s like omg………… I’m scared

[leashybebes]

we can be heroes (forever and ever)

|| 9-1-1 fic, bucktommy | superhero AU ||

Things are heating up in Spark City. With a new hero in town, and the fires popping up all over the place getting worse and worse, reporter Evan Buckley thinks he's in line for the scoop of a lifetime. When he and The Pilot team up to find answers, it sets him on a course to not only save the city, but uncover a conspiracy bigger than he ever could have imagined. And if the hot new IT guy in the newsroom happens to be spark some confusing new feelings too? Well maybe love can save the day, too.

*

READ CHAPTER TWO HERE

[leashybebes]

I MISS HIM SO MUCH WTF 😭😭

[leashybebes]

Hello!

If you keep doing the smut prompt, I cannot decides between the 7, 8 and 31!

If you can manage a mix between the three?

Specialy if you make with Sal and Buck, in the configuration with SalBuckTommy, but with Buck drooling about Sal?

Thank you so much 🖤💜

7, 8 and 31 were "try to stay quiet, understand", "we're in public, you know" and "you're so fucking hot when you're mad". slight artistic license taken with all of them lol.

this is effectively an outtake from love in stereo once they've got their shit together that won't fit in the structure i have planned but worked for this prompt. enjoy!

Buck blinks awake, not immediately sure why. The bunk room is dark, he can hear Chim snoring, the sirens are quiet and - and Sal's leaning over him, one hand still on his shoulder, the other holding a finger to Buck's mouth. Reflex has his jaw dropping, tongue sneaking out for a taste. Sal's smirk is bright in the darkness, and he tugs on Buck's arm, tipping his head towards the door.

They slip out of the bunk room together, and Sal closes the door carefully behind them. 

"Hey," Buck whispers. "What're we doing?"

Sal doesn't answer, just grins at Buck and tows him around the corner, through the low light of the station and into one of the supply closets. Buck's pulse picks up a little and as soon as the door is closed he presses into Sal's space, pulling him into a kiss. Sal allows it for a moment, his arms going around Buck's waist to hold him close. Before Buck can really get into it though, Sal pushes him back a little.

"Hey, hold on."

"What, why? C'mon, don't you wanna - "

"Christ, you horny little bastard," Sal laughs. "Settle down. Yes, I wanna. But I told you about the first time I made Tommy cum, huh?"

Buck's brain crashes to a halt and he looks around the little he can see of the supply closet, the only light coming from the pale glow of the security bulb, and the sliver that shines from under the door.

"H-here?" Buck asks, and Sal backs him into the wall.

"Right here. Whaddya say, kid? You wanted a replay?"

"Fuck, yeah," Buck groans, pulling Sal closer and diving in for another kiss.

"Hey, now," Sal says, dodging him. "You gotta stay quiet, understand? We're practically in public, and explaining this isn't a conversation any of us wanna have right now."

"Yeah," Buck promises. "Yeah, I'll be good, just - please - "

"Hold on, c'mere," Sal whispers, and tugs his phone out of his pocket. 

Buck's too turned on to think for long about how the lighting isn't exactly great for photography but that's - that's not what Sal's after, he realizes. Sal shows him the screen, and the voice recorder is running. Buck groans, swallowing down the noise as best as he can.

"Good boy," Sal says, and places the phone on the shelf nearest to Buck's head.

Buck's been in this storage cupboard more times than he can count now, never thought anything of it, but knowing that this is where Sal and Tommy touched each other for the first time is almost unbearably hot. He trusts that Sal's doing this properly, that this is the exact wall he pressed Tommy against all those years ago, that he's going to touch him exactly like he touched Tommy. 

"Show me," he whispers. "Fuck, Sal, please."

"Pushed him up here just like this," Sal says, his hand hard on Buck's chest, the wall at his back seeming only marginally less solid than the bulk of Sal's body. "He tried to pretend like he didn't know what was going on, but as soon as I got my hand in his pants - " He does it in time with his words and Buck practically melts between the wall and his body. "Yeah, just like that. You know how he gets so sweet when you get even a finger on him. Just like you, baby."

Buck nods and swallows hard, spreads his legs a little wider to give Sal better access, to let him stroke Buck the rest of the way to full hardness, to let him dig his thumb in just under the head of his cock.

"Sal," he moans.

"Yeah," Sal says, pressing his face to Buck's throat so he can keep it quiet but still be heard. "Yeah, he said my name just like that. You both beg so fucking pretty, baby."

The noise that pulls out of Buck is high and shaky and Sal squeezes him tighter in warning.

"Quiet," he says sternly, like that tone of voice is going to do anything to calm Buck down. It's a crazy feedback loop - the way Sal is touching him, the idea of him touching Tommy just like this, the knowledge that it's being recorded, the image of Tommy with headphones in, turning the sound up full, getting frustrated and horny at the poor quality of the recording. Buck turns his head to pant in the direction of the phone, hoping Tommy will be able to hear it when Sal sends the recording over to him.

"You're - you're so hot when you're b-bossy," he says.

Sal laughs, low and just the right side of mean. "Tell me something I don't know," he says.

I love you, Buck thinks, but he doesn't want to say it to one of them for the first time when the other one isn't around. 

"Thought about this ev-every shift since you told me," he says and then, partly to prove he was paying attention, partly because he wants exactly what Tommy got that first time, partly because it feels so good he wants to scream, and partly because he just wants it, he reaches out for Sal's free hand, grabs him by the wrist and tugs until Sal gets the hint and presses his hand over Buck's mouth.

Sal strokes him faster, like it's a reward and Buck doesn't even have it in him to be embarrassed at the way his eyes roll back in his head. It's so fucking good, and it's going to be over way too quick, but the secrecy, the forced quiet, the way Sal told him to be good, the way he can already imagine how Tommy's gonna react when they're all off shift and he gets to show Sal and Buck just how much he liked their little game.

"Yeah, that's it," Sal says. "So easy for me, huh? You're gonna blow even faster than he did, aren't you?"

Buck nods, moans yeah against Sal's hand, loves the way it comes out muffled and desperate. 

"Fuck, that's so good," Sal says, leaning in to mouth at Buck's throat, dangerously high. Buck's gonna have to spend what's left of their shift buttoned all the way up if they don't want to answer some extremely awkward questions, but he doesn't care, doesn't care, lets his head thud back against the wall to give Sal better access.

"That's it, beautiful," Sal tells him. "I gotcha. Let go, kid, make a mess for me. Show me how much you - "

The rest of Sal's sentence disappears into the wash of static through Buck's brain as he cums, Sal's hand pressing harder against his mouth to keep him quiet. Buck breathes hard through his nose, clings to Sal, gradually tunes back in to the sound of Sal showering him with praise, calling him a good boy, whispering about how hard Buck came, how much he gave him.

When Sal seems convinced he's going to keep quiet, he lowers his hand and Buck surges in for a kiss. They make out for long, breathless moments before Buck can't help laughing.

"Fuck, that was so hot."

"You're so fuckin' cute, kid. This isn't how it went, you know?"

"Yeah, I know," Buck says. "But you're not gonna make me wait, are you? Not gonna…make me make you wait? You know what I mean."

"Yeah, I know what you mean, doll." Sal pauses for a second, tilting his head towards the door, checking for noise from the rest of the station. Buck holds his breath, hoping against hope, and then Sal's nodding, pushing at Buck's shoulders to get him on his knees. 

Buck drags at the waistband of the sweats Sal's wearing to sleep in before a thought strikes him and he looks up.

"Hey," he whispers.

"What's up?"

"Bring the phone closer?" Buck requests.

Sal grins and reaches for the phone. "You're a fuckin' menace, kid. C'mon. Give us a show."

[leashybebes]

Motivation Monday

Tagged by the amazing @beanarie and @ambernotember ✨

This is the opening to my S3 au where Buck and Tommy meet during the tsunami arc.

+

When Tommy was eleven, Bill Tunstall's mom took him and Bill to go see Waterworld at Sack Cinema City, and for weeks afterward he spent every waking moment daydreaming about the ocean swallowing the entire planet. While his English teacher, Mrs. Reynolds, hadn't been thrilled that he kept forgetting to do his homework on sentence structure trees, she had been grudgingly impressed with his blueprints for the awesome catamaran he was going to build, so it evened out.

The plan was to launch from Tuck Point and sail down past Stellwagen Bank into open blue, fishing stranded people out of the deep or saving them from raiders along the way. He'd toss the name 'Thomas Andrew Kinard' into the sea like chum for the sharks that hung out off the coast of Chatham and forge a legacy where he was known only as The Mariner.

The furthest he got into actually building the catamaran was gathering some fallen tree branches in the wooded area behind his house and tying them together with old fishing twine he'd found in the basement to make the frame. Things came to a screeching halt about two hours later when his dad discovered that Tommy had taken out his toolbox without asking permission.

Tommy spent the next week assuring Mrs. Reynolds that his black eye was the result of catching a foul baseball with his face, but she didn't seem to buy it.

Almost thirty years later, he's hovering above where the intersection of 4th and Broadway used to be when the next surge current hits, and his childhood dream of setting sail in a great flood drowns. So to speak.

+

No pressure tags: @screamlet, @geddyqueer, @setmeatopthepyre, @apollabarnes, @firehose118, @liminalmemories21, @station18908, and @leashybebes

[leashybebes]

mildly-late motivation monday

tagged by a few people recently - @trombonechurchill, @rcmclachlan, @apollabarnes, thanks gang

this is a longer-than-usual snippet from cherry blossoms/summer project picking up from the snippet in this post and for non-discworld pals - confusing in an intriguing way, or just straight up annoying?

because it's longer than usual i'm tagging above the read-more for...two or more sentences tuesday (i am bad at this) for @setmeatopthepyre, @ambernotember and @liminalmemories21

"What is it?" Buck asks, bringing the cylinder closer to his face. The symbols almost seem like they're moving, trying to get around to the other side of the cylinder every time he almost manages to focus on one.

"That's…a little hard to explain," Jamie says. "I call it the Pro-2. Second generation procrastinator."

"Uh…"

"Procrastinators are - you know spools on a sewing machine?"

"I mean…broadly," Buck says. 

"Well, imagine the thread is time. That's a procrastinator. They wind time back and forth, help the monks keep history on course."

"That's…" Buck can't really say crazy after he's just walked through the streets of Los Angeles frozen in time, but…it's pretty fucking crazy.

"That's our job," Jamie says. "It's what we do. Well, not me personally. The drivers run the hall of procrastinators at home. In the monastery. I work - worked with Qu, the Master of Devices. He said - he used to say I had a knack for things like this. Not - not time as such, but the Devices we use to manage it."

"You - you change history?" Buck asks, thinking of losses big and small throughout his own life, throughout all of history.

"We mend it," Jamie corrects him. "Humans do things all the time that shouldn't be done. Shouldn't be possible yet. They make time, they waste time, they break it in a hundred little ways every single day. It's our job to mend it."

Buck's not sure he's ever going to understand any of this, but there's something there he can cling onto. 

"And he's not supposed to be dead."

"Well…" Jamie says, with a shrug.

"I'm not asking you," Buck says, tightening his hold on the Pro-2. "I'm telling you. There is no way that he is supposed to be dead. Now tell me how this helps."

Jamie looks at him for long enough that Buck starts to feel uncomfortable. To his eyes, Jamie's a kid, only a handful of years older than Christopher, but something about the intensity of his stare as he studies Buck's face is unsettling.

"What?" he asks.

"You reminded me of someone," Jamie says. "Not someone I met, but someone we helped. I heard Qu talking about him with - with someone. And they said, there was no universe, anywhere, where this man would give in on this, because if he did, he wouldn't be him anymore."

"Oh," Buck says, and he has to look away. "Yeah. Okay. Jamie, please. How does it work?"

Jamie points to the base of the Pro-2, where a tiny button is almost hidden, it sits so flush with the rest of the device. "Push that when I tell you to. A little needle will prick your finger. And then - well. So I said a procrastinator winds time back and forth around you? The Pro-2 winds you back and forth around time."

Holy fucking time travel, Buck thinks, and for the first time since they arrived on the scene and he saw the mangled mess of Tommy's truck, he feels like maybe the world isn't ending after all.

[leashybebes]

Any idiot can like something thats good. It takes a real genius to like things that suck ass

[leashybebes]

[leashybebes]

mutuals always making masterpieces and I think wow. and you're following me too. wild stuff

[leashybebes]

Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine. — "Wild Geese," Mary Oliver

bucktommy hiatus event week 2: quote(s)

[leashybebes]

LOU FERRIGNO JR. as Tommy Kinard

[leashybebes]

u know what im gonna ask?

🌸

but also a bit of 🩸to clench a thirst? 👉🏼👈🏼🥺

🌸 first - as ever, apologies to pterry and anyone who's not up on their discworld knowledge. this will make approximately zero sense.

"The abbot wanted to kick me out, you know," Jamie says. "He said I didn't respect the flow of history. Qu only sent me here to keep me out of trouble."

"If you can help someone, you should," Buck urges him. "That's - that's how I live. That's how he lived. Please."

Jamie frowns, worrying at his lower lip, but the job has taught Buck to read people, and he can see his face softening.

"I can't - I can't promise anything," he says. "I don't even know if this will work."

"Okay," Buck says, nodding quickly. "That's okay. I just - I just want a chance to put things right."

Jamie reaches into the branches of the cherry tree and holds something out to Buck. It's a cylinder on a leather cord, about the length of his thumb, maybe a couple of times as thick. There are tiny symbols carved into its white-silver surface, too small for Buck to really make out.

"This is experimental tech," he stresses. "You might get stuck. You might not go anywhere. You might make things worse."

"He's dead," Buck says flatly. "It doesn't get worse than that."

aaaaand 🩸 - fanon throughline: whatever the universe and whatever the context, sal deluca exists to be a pain in tommy kinard's ass.

Tommy hangs back in the waiting room when Sal goes through to meet his donor. He could go without feeding for a week or more now, especially with the frequency with which he's been meeting Evan recently, but even if he did need it, he'd rather push it and wait. The idea of feeding from anyone else, the idea of that nauseating flavor that he resigned himself to before Evan is enough to turn his stomach.

Sal's in and out quickly, and it just drives home to Tommy how embarrassingly long he spends after each feeding with Evan, delighting in his company. Sal hangs around the welcome desk for a few minutes, flirting up a storm with Lucy who rolls her eyes at him and snarks back in a way Tommy knows Sal has never been immune to in the past.

"So," Sal says, as soon as they leave the bank. "Buck, huh?"

"Nope," Tommy says.

[leashybebes]

🌸 because this one has all my attention 🌸

*blows dust off the draft* thank you!

Buck follows the man through frozen streets. It's not just the site of the accident, it seems like the whole city is at a standstill, people and cars and even - when he looks up at the sky - planes just hanging there, suspended in a single moment.

The man leads him into a street lined by warehouses, and through the dented metal blue door of the third one along. If it wasn't for the fact he thinks it might already have happened, Buck would think he's lost his mind when he steps inside.

Instead of the pallets and shelves and abandoned equipment he was expecting, the space is dominated by a beautiful cherry tree. The branches are heavy with pink blossoms, and the area underneath it is scattered with petals in a way that reminds Buck with a sharp spike of pain of handfuls of wedding confetti.

[leashybebes]

For the good of you keeping you awake on your train and no ulterior motive... 🩸 or 📻, dealers choice <3

ooooor...both?

first up, incredibly normal (in)human man behaviour as per usual.

Lucy's manning the welcome desk tonight and she gives them a grin. Sal also gets a quick up-and-down look that makes Tommy feel distinctly uncomfortable.

"Oh, hey, Tommy," she says. And then, because Tommy's cursed in ways other than the vampirism, adds, "You know Buck won't be here for a few days, right?"

"Not here for me," Tommy says, hoping against hope that he can just override where this is inevitably going.

"What's a Buck?" Sal asks.

"Nothing, not important," Tommy starts to say.

At the same time, Lucy says, "Tommy's go-to donor."

"Wait, since when are you a repeat offender?" Sal asks him.

"Not important," Tommy says firmly. "Luce, my friend's from out of town, doesn't have local documents. Can you help us out?"

Lucy rolls her eyes. "Sure. Here," she says, sliding a form over to Tommy. "You can vouch for him. It's good for three feeds."

"Won't be here that long," Sal says.

"Ain't that a shame," Lucy says, tipping him a wink. Tommy rolls his eyes towards the ceiling and prays for the earth to swallow him up.

aaaaand here's sal doing some sweary introspection. don't hate me lmao, i love fire dad. sal...not so much.

He's stagnating here, Sal comes to realize. Tommy being here was the only reason he went to Nash in that first explosive week, the only reason he fought down wounded pride and (fuck what anyone says, completely fucking justified) irritation and made a pitch to keep his place here. And without Tommy, without shared shifts and the ease that working together brought to their lives, Sal's chafing all over again. He suddenly feels like he's been on pause - not in an awful way, a lot of it has been great - but in a way that's suddenly crystal clear and undeniable.

Back then, he was jockeying for the captain's position because he didn't trust any asshole the brass sent over to keep his people safe. Now though, whatever he thinks of Bobby Nash on a personal level, he trusts him to do that. Now, the drive is personal ambition, not possessive over-protection. Now, seeing Tommy thrive at Harbor, seeing him grow and achieve is making Sal think - hey. Why not me?

So here he is, just like all those years ago, psyching himself up to step into Bobby fuckin' Nash's office and ask him for a favor. He's going to come out in fucking hives.

[leashybebes]

🩸🩸🩸🩸 this vamp tommy au is soooo tasty 😩🫶

thank yooou! 💕

Sal pierces the second blood bag and drinks deeply before wrinkling his nose. Figuring that if he's revived enough to be bitchy about the quality of the provisions, Tommy grabs his free hand and slathers it from the wrist up with the ointment. It has a distinctly iron scent to it, and Tommy knows from experience that it feels cold in an itchy way. Sal snarls again and Tommy squeezes his forearm.

"Don't be a baby. What are you doing here?"

"Looking for someone," Sal says.

"Great," Tommy says. "Excellent detail."

Sal rolls his eyes and finishes the blood, crumpling the bag and tossing it to the floor. Just for that, Tommy adds some more of the ointment before he adds the dressing.

"Better if you don't know," Sal tells him.

"You show up on my doorstep half-dead and ten minutes out from the worst and last sunburn of your life and you think you're getting away with better if you don't know?" Tommy asks.

Sal shrugs and holds out his other hand. Tommy can't believe he managed to forget how damned annoying he could be.

[leashybebes]

🩸🩸🩸 vampire au my beloved!

thank you! picking up from here. sorry to everyone who was anticipating a sal and buck meeting - tommy is currently waaaay way way too territorial/in denial about being territorial for that lol

Leaving Sal on the couch, Tommy steps into the kitchen and pulls out his phone, putting in a call to the VCU to request some emergency supplies. He gives them the code to the garage so he can take delivery without stepping outside, and makes sure the internal doors and windows are all double locked. It wouldn't be the first time Sal has brought trouble to his door.

Back in the living room, he tries waking Sal and gets only a sleepy snarl in response.

"Fine, jesus," Tommy mutters, and settles in the recliner. There's little point in trying harder to wake him until the supplies get here, so he settles in to wait, leafing through the book he's been half-heartedly reading. It's the one on science in space that Evan was reading the first time they met, and Tommy is choosing not to think about why he's gone out and bought every book he's ever seen in Evan's hands. 

He doesn't get more than half a chapter through before his phone chimes with the alert from the VCU and he heads out to the garage to collect the package. He pauses long enough to change the code and double-lock all the doors before returning to Sal. The VCU has sent over a standard pre-feral rescue pack - a couple of blood bags, still warm, a tube of blood-based ointment, a set of plasma-soaked dressings and, if worst comes to worst, a set of silver-lined restraints and a vial of holy water.

Tommy sets those carefully to one side, and shakes Sal more determinedly.

[leashybebes]

You know that Ada Limón poem where she’s like “i can’t help it i love the way men love”? my dad recently confessed to me that he became a shoemaker because they buried my grandma shoeless

oh…………………………………