#yeah i think water and electricity should be free

[cnmcn]

Wanna know what I think?

Everything on this chart should be a guaranteed human right by law. Full stop. I think the bottom two should even be provided.

"Who would pay?" Billionaires. "Isn't there already 'life, liberty, and the persuit of happiness?" The American Dream isn't real and I'm not American.

This is my sick and twisted socialist world.

[yuan4i]

10. practice

“lynette!!” you shouted, waving to her in the distance. you run up to her, noticing her brother; lyney, standing next to her. “yn! hi-” “hello, yn. how was your morning?” lynette asked, standing in between you and lyney. “i woke up before lumine did!” you said, grinning. 

the three of you guys chatted about the upcoming festival while walking to your school’s building. “oh! yn, you should totally visit lynette and i if you get the chance today!” lyney brought up, arriving at your destinations. “mhm. we’ll maybe even do a magic trick for you.” “oh yeah! i’ll definitely try to visit you guys. i’m gonna go to the music room now, okay? see you guys later!” you smiled, waving goodbye to your two friends. you made your way to the music room, hearing instruments play before opening the door.  

“scara?” 

“oh kuni, they’re here!” a boy with white hair and a red streak called for your boyfriend. kazuha. you knew him, but not to a personal extent. scaramouche would usually talk about him, and you’ve seen kazuha with him from time to time. 

“you must be yn! scara told us about you so much about you!” a short green-haired braided boy came up to you. “i’m venti! and this is kazuha! that’s xiao, that one’s heizou and i’m sure you already know aether! scaramouche is in the back storage room trying to tune the guitar you’ll be using!” 

“oh yn! you’re here. come, sit down with me. i’ll teach you how to use the amplifier.” your boyfriend walks towards you, holding an electric guitar. “there’s not much of a big difference between the acoustic and electric guitar, but the stringers are definitely heavier. try not to press too hard when you slide.” 

you ended up spending around an hour or two practicing songs navia wrote for her new album until aether came up to you. “hey yn! how’s the electric guitar so far? having any problems with it?” 

“aether! hi! it’s fun but my fingers are getting sore haha… it’s really tiring.” you nervously chuckled, looking over to your boyfriend. he was with kazuha. “i totally understand! you’ve been playing for quite some time, feel free to take a break whenever you feel like it!” aether said, handing you a bottle of water. “thank you! um, do you mind if i take a break right now? i think i’m gonna go visit my friend in the auditorium if that’s okay?” you asked the blonde, then you look over to the other side of the room, seeing xiao with venti and heizou. “yes yes! of course, but before you go i think you should tell scara.” “yeah.” 

you walk over to him, telling him that you’re going to go visit your friends. “yeah sure. i’m going back home in after this song, so i may not be able to drive you home. is that good with you?” “mhm! i think i’ll walk home with lynette.” 

ANGEL EYES ✿ prev ❀ masterlist ❀ next

lyney x reader SYNOPSIS you’re at a bar, drinking your heart out after another having a feud with your boyfriend of 2 years. you later stop at your friend’s house to stay the night but… the one who opens the door isn’t her but instead, her brother…?

notes : hii! i haevn't updaed in such a long time omg :( MB GUYS IVE BEEN REALLY BUSY WITH SCHOOL LMFAO i used play with electric guitar (i also used to play acoustic) but then i ended up stopping because my fingers were being cut really badly LOL this and the next chapter will be partially written shshsh happy reading <;3

[konekoling]

Hi hello since the states are gonna get blasted with cold soon I figured I'd shave some Helpful Cold Survival Advice I've absorbed as someone who lives in an area that hits -50C/-58F temperatures periodically

-Starting with a somewhat obvious one, but HOLY SHIT DO NOT BRING BARBECUES, GENERATORS, OR ANY OTHER FORM OF OUTDOOR HEAT SOURCE INSIDE FOR WARMTH. CO poisoning WILL kill you if you don't accidentally start a fire in the process.

-If you wanna stay in your car and turn the heat up for warmth DO NOT do it in the garage. Again. CO poisoning.

-You can turn up your stove/ oven and crack the oven door open in an emergency if you have zero other heat sources available, but only if its electric (Gas stoves will generate carbon mono...yeah you get it already), and even then its going to be much less energy efficient than a normal space heater, and you're gonna want to stay nearby while it's on to make sure you don't start a fire.

-Don't plug a space heater into a power bar or extention cord unless you're 100% sure it has a high quality cord. They need an absurd amount of power to run, and most extention cords in particular aren't insulated enough to handle those levels of power without becoming a fire hazard. And for the love of God, don't run multiple heaters on one power bar.

-Candles don't actually do much to generate heat unless you're ina very small area, but they ARE an excellent light source should power go out

- tragically, the best way to keep warm in the absence of home heating is through boring ol layering, especially on your feet and head. Avoid jeans, as they're somehow terrible at heat retention despite how thick they are, and throw on a pair of long underwear/leggings if you have some. Also feel free to pile as many blankets as you own on top of yourself, you deserve it.

-Youre gonna want to stay well fed, too. Keeping your body temperature up in the cold is pretty calorically demanding, AND the digestive process tends to heat your body up as well. Its a win/win.

-Also unfortunate: another excellent way to stay warm is through your enemy and mine, physical activity. Every half hour or so, pace around your living space to get the ol blood pumping a bit.

-If you get wet outside while it's substantially cold out, get inside as soon as possible bc that WILL suck the heat from your body. This goes for sweat too, so layer responsibly if you're out shoveling

-Electric blankets are a scam, don't buy them.

-heating pads and heated mattress covers are less of a scam, but don't fall asleep with them on bc once again, fire hazard.

-If you have any faucets in your house that don't see a lot of use/you live somewhere that doesn't usually see cold weather, keep all your faucets on just a bit so your pipes don't freeze and/or explode. This WILL cost thousands of dollars to fix.

-Likewise, if you're traveling for the holidays see if you can have someone come by to turn the faucets on every day or two so you don't come home to find your house sunk into the ground

-ALSO if you're traveling and think "hm, I think I'll turn off the heat while I'm out to save some money that is the devil speaking, do NOT listen. (Heating helps keep the pipes warm and unfrozen)

-Fill your bathtub up with water and/or stock up on bottled water if you're gonna be getting unusually cold temperatures in case your pipes DO freeze, since you're probably not gonna want to hit up the store should this occur

-Stay off the roads if you can help it. Turbocold weather makes cars periodically fail to start, and also the second snow touches the ground people somehow forget how to drive.

-IMO If it's below -38C before windchill, you have a substantial commute, and you have any PTO/can afford to miss a shift at work, don't bother going in. Just lie and say your car wouldn't start.

-If you absolutely need to go to work/go out for whatever reason, take public transit if possible. If thats not possible, keep some blankets, food, candles, and a lighter in your car in case the battery dies on the road so you can stay toasty and Alive until help arrives.

Probably gonna add more as I remember it, but thems the basics! Stay warm!

[chelemlem]

Landoscar flatmates au ? For the au prompts!

OH HELLO. ok this is more neighbours au than flatmates but !

lando moves into his first london apartment trying to get his new streaming company off the ground. it's Not a nice place exactly. the stairwell is a fire hazard and there are water stains wrapped around the smaller-than-he's-used-to kitchen and he's pretty sure his downstairs neighbours are serial killers with the odd hours they keep & passive aggressive notes they leave around (wdym "kindly refrain from yelling when ppl are trying to sleep" who goes to bed at 7pm m8? but ok FINE he can schedule his cod streams for earlier in the day 🙄)

but that's what you get for wanting to "make it on ur own". so to speak

one sultry summer afternoon his doorbell rings and oh worm? it's the fabled downstairs neighbour who he's never met before. he's got floppy hair and bags under his eyes and apparently he's going to be late on rent this month bc he lost his second job. internally lando's like uh ok sure? what's that got to do with me but then Floppy Hair gives him a slow once-over and says: "or i could maybe. blow you?"

and that's??? fuck, why not. the guy's fit. what the hell

he figures out what that was all about later: oscar the downstairs bloke thinks LANDO owns the apartment bc he coincidentally shares a last name with their landlord ?

which brings up like: The Ethical Conundrum. on one hand: honesty, yeah? but lando's morals are fluid at the best of times and tbh the convenience of having dick that good only a floor down is nothing to sneeze at‼️ besides, between his delivery job and engineering coursework, oscar seems to have enough on his plate without adding apartment-hunting to the mix. it's win-win, really? what oscar doesn't know won't hurt him. lando can cover his share

cue 3-5 months of some of the best sex lando's ever had, partly for the normal reasons and partly bc of how Down oscar is to try all the weird kinky shit lando is into (which he chalks up to the fact that in oscar's mind he's essentially selling his body for shelter...... insert vague guilt)

and the problem is lando's growing fond of oscar's like dry sense of humor and his surprisingly good cooking (when he's got the time) and ends up doing all sorts of throat-constrictingly domestic stuff like dropping oscar off at class and ordering extra groceries for him and one day when they're sat in oscar's apartment waiting for the kettle (a shmancy new one lando bought) to boil, oscar jokes "oh am i officially a sugar baby now... a rentboy if u will" lando has a mild (read: severe) crisis about it and just. blurts out the truth

oscar's quiet for a bit. and then he's like: yeah i know

and hi what? the? fuck? but oscar's like uh so i ran into our real landlord a couple of weeks after we started shagging and i know i should have said something when u began paying a third of my rent but. shrugs. i looked u up and it seems like you can afford it (pure electric advert). also i... like hanging out with you. i like cooking for you. i like having sex and enough free time to sleep. i wanna keep doing it if you... (he's blushing now) don't mind

and lando's lowkey like youuu son of a bitch but he recognises he doesn't have a leg to stand on and hey does this mean oscar can actually spend nights at his place instead of walking back to his own apartment ? cut to future oscar cameoing in the background of lando's streams as Anonymous Boyfriend and maxf being like why the hell do you still have him saved in ur phone as "rentboy 💕"

[theamityelf]

You made a post a while back on the Hajime and Makoto being boyfriends and the reserve course students thinking Hajime is going to end up dead sooner or later but in he's also batshit crazy. PLEASE! I need to see more instances of this.

Also works for another post you did with Komahinaegi with Hajime being overly prepared. Imagine if one day Nagito's luck somehow caused a very complex machine to malfunction and everyone is running but Hajime just walks up and deactivate it with ease before it can do serious damage, everyone is confused asf and he's just like "Eh, another thursday." Or him coming in to save Makoto from life threatening situations and shrugging it off with his classmates thinking he's an Ultimate in disguise. Was it dangerous? Yes! Should no sane person attempt to do that? Nope! Would he do it again? Abso-fucking-lutely, no hesitation either!

Ah, thank you for this! Yeah, I love this dynamic for them.

My first thoughts, for this:

A fire or similar disaster befalls the main course building, necessitating an evacuation. Hajime sees that Makoto is missing from his class and runs into the building to find him. The entire school sees a reserve course student run into the flaming main course building and shortly trudge out carrying an injured luckster.

One of Makoto's (or one of his classmates') homework sheets blows away and winds up caught in one of Kazuichi's (unattended) machines. Makoto reaches into the machine to get it out, and his arm ends up stuck, and everyone is like "Oh no, don't move, if that machine does anything right now you might lose an arm. Where's Kazuichi?" Hajime is already pulling olive oil or some similar lubricant out of his backpack with one hand and calling Kazuichi with the other hand. "Kaz? No, shut up, it happened again; you need to get over here and make sure this thing is inactive, before we pull him out. Yes, now! My free period ends in a few minutes and Makoto might lose an arm!" Hangs up and promptly reassures Makoto, "You're not going to lose an arm."

Hajime sees any kind of commotion outside his classroom window and gets up, like, "I have to go." Comes back to class a few minutes later, saying (in the strictly Hinaegi scenario) "False alarm; it was the other one." In the Komahinaegi scenario, his classmates try to guess which of his boyfriends was the problem based on how exasperated he looks.

Hajime has developed an awareness of his surroundings such that he pretty consistently says "Duck," anytime a projectile flies in their vicinity. Makoto's reaction time has not improved quite as much, so about fifty percent of the time it goes like, "Duck." "...Huh?" Whack. Frisbee or ball to the head. Hajime promptly pulls any spare rag or shirt out of his backpack, wets it with his water bottle, and directs Makoto to hold it to his head while he walks him to the clinic. "I'm okay, really." "No, you're going to see Mikan." (Sakakura sends them both a dirty look as they enter the building, which Makoto misses but Hajime doesn't, sending him a dirty look back.) But since Makoto doesn't always duck in time, Hajime takes to just yanking him out of the way of things.

Hajime gets sick and has to spend the day in bed. Makoto visits his room in the morning, to bring him food from the cafeteria and tell him to get well soon, and Hajime hands him a folded note, like, "Give this to Kirigiri. It's her job to cover luck shenanigans today. This should be everything she needs to know." "She will be offended that you think she needs a note." "Give it to her anyway; I'm not taking any chances. And tell Kuwata to take the day off, throwing stuff."

Anytime Hajime is called to the clinic for Makoto, the first word out of his mouth is, "Shoelace?" In fact, he periodically texts Makoto "Shoelace" throughout the day, just in case.

He knows a lot about fire safety. "No, you don't use water on an electrical fire! You don't use that, either! Move over..."

Someone in Hajime's class: Ow, papercut. Who has band-aids? Multpile classmates: Hajime has band-aids.

[hadeantaiga]

Society needs to do a few things to help unhoused people. Firstly, and obviously, those who want to be housed in houses and apartments should be able to get them. Cities should create and enforce rent reduction policies on landlords who let apartments and homes sit vacant - and if they sit vacant too long, the city takes control of the property. Most Airbnbs have to go. Apartments and homes that are foreclosed or owned by banks need to be given to the city to be used for low income or free housing. House selling agencies like Zillow etc who have unsold properties just sitting around should be forced to lower the prices of those homes until someone buys them, and if they are still vacant after a certain amount of time, they too go to the city to manage. You wanna get angry? Google the number of foreclosed homes in your town or city, then Google the estimated homeless population in your area.

But.

I also think society needs to get easier for people who don't have and don't want a permanent house or apartment?? Cities and towns need to ease restrictions on "tiny homes", trailers, campers, mobile homes, live-in-vans, and things like that. They need to provide safe, dry areas for people who want to camp. They need to provide clean places to bathe and shower and clean your clothes. They need to provide water and electricity and plumbing to these places. Because of how job applications work right now, those camps need to have a real address that the people living there can use.

Oh yeah - and of course, hostile architecture needs to be banned WHILE mandating that public spaces must have a minimum mandatory amount of seating.

[emwritesstuff]

DYNAMO | Steve Rogers x Reader | part 2.

HYDRA has made their share of human experiments. You're just one of them. One of the least successful ones. One of the least functional ones. At least your life in the facility gave you a few things: unwavering resilience, cool(ish) superpowers and a great sense of humor. Steve Rogers would strongly disagree with that last one. A single chance encounter with him reluctantly brings you into the Avengers Compound, and you're determined to make his life as miserable as you can. Feeling's mutual.

AO3 | Masterlist | Playlist (coming soon!)

notes: part 2 is up! I've had this written for a while and I didn't want to wait to post hehehe. Not a lot of Steve interaction this time around though, just getting the plot going </3 (warnings: mentions of human experimentation, violence, cursing) (2.5K words)

2: CONDUCTIVE ACCORDS

“So, I’ve been thinking about what that thing you asked me,” Natasha slides on a stool next to Steve, and he raises one eyebrow at her, silently waiting for her to elaborate. He asks her lots of things, all the time. “on the girl with the electric powers. And then I remembered something.”

She opens the laptop she’s brought with her, and Steve feels dizzy by the lack of, well, anything, in her desktop area. He’s aware she has a meticulously crafted system, and that it never fails her, because she is Natasha Romanoff. But come on. There’s not even a Google Chrome on there.

After a couple of clicks a PDF is up on the screen. Medical records, and a picture attached. Yeah, that’s her alright-- he could spot that intense gaze anywhere.

He reads her name on the top of the page and tests it on his tongue.

“Or…A-7463. They refer to her mostly like this, anyway. She was part of an experiment to get people into manipulating energy.”

“Seems like they were successful.” He’d know. His body was still recovering from that.

“Almost…They wanted an army.” Natasha scrolls down, and more pictures come into view. They all have a bright red VERSAGEN stamp over the pages. Failures.

Kids.

That makes Steve grimace. “She was the only one who survived.”

“Yes. And when I came across these for the first time I thought--”

Steve’s head whips to Natasha’s face. His eyebrows meet at the center of his face.

“You knew? You kept this from us?”

“Well, it didn’t seem relevant—"

“An enhanced HYDRA agent walking around free isn’t relevant?”

“She’s not so much an agent – she’s more of a victim, don’t you think?” Natasha sighs, and closes the laptop. Steve perks up in his stool, staring down at her, even though he knew damn well that intimidation tactic wouldn’t work. But he wants her to know that he’s angry.

A victim. She didn’t seem like a victim when he was writhing on the ground like a fish out of water.

But those cries of pain he heard then weren’t his. His jaw was too busy being clenched shut to utter any sound.

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose, trying not to feel sympathy for the girl—woman, actually; from her files she is around 23 something now.

She’s HYDRA, still. And hasn’t turned herself over to justice. There was something off about it, Steve could feel it even though he couldn’t pinpoint it exactly.

“And I figured they’d have eliminated her already.” That brings Steve out of his own thoughts. She had been slipping through everyone’s fingers, then – and that was intriguing.

Maybe they could get her to collaborate. Take down HYDRA once and for all. Smash all the heads, burn all the tentacles to a crisp. From the inside, or at least with an insider on their court.

Even though their first impression was less than positive.

“We should take this to Fury and the others.”

“As if we needed another one of those.”

“Tony—”

“No, no, let ‘im talk, Natasha. Those what?” Bucky plants both hands – one human, one a prototype – on the table in front of him.

“Those—”

“Will this ever stop…” Steve shoots a sympathetic look at Wanda, though Tony’s remarks were never directed at her.

“Those what, Stark?”

Since Bucky Barnes had moved into the Avengers compound with the rest of them, his and Tony’s bickering had become a constant. They revel in civility until Tony decides he’s bored and it all begins again.

“Okay, children, you can stop now.” Fury drops a manila folder on the table – theatrics, because he never opens it, and instead uses a controller to turn on a screen behind him right after. It works though, as all of them turn to look at him. Steve rests his chin in his hand.

The face of a young A-7463 is up on the screen, staring right at him once again. A mystery wrapped inside a challenging gaze. Steve’s need to figure out just what she wanted and who she was grew more every time he looked at her.

Wouldn’t you like to know, Cap.

“…so we make her an offer she can’t refuse: freedom in exchange of information. Of course, with the bonus of not letting another superhuman on the loose.”

“Temporary and conditional pardon isn’t really freedom, Fury.”

“Well not everyone is as lucky as you, Barnes.” Bucky clenches his jaw at the same time Steve does his.

But it’s different. Bucky was a prisoner of war. He was forced into it. Who’s to say which side the girl was really on.

And those powers… she could be dangerous. Taking her down would probably need all their forces combined. They all agreed on that, at least.

But the plan was set: find her, convince her to cooperate in exchange of a conditional. Keep the girl and her powers under their watch and their control.

Finding her would be Natasha’s job. Steve and Sam would play the diplomatic part. Or they’d try.

He had a feeling that would be the hard part. Maybe they should cause a power outage in the vicinity just in case.

A-7463.

He thinks about your name again. It’s fitting for a hurricane, and he’s about to walk right into it.

There’s something humorous about having blue hair when you have electric powers.

Your hair is dyed a deep indigo now – and it should make you easier to spot in any normal circumstances, but not in Los Angeles, it doesn’t. This specific shade of blue was sold out in all of the Sally’s you walked in. So, like the sensible person you were, you broke into an apartment and stole a jar of it. You know, as you do.

The good thing about this city is that there were plenty of empty apartments for you to stay in – granted, most of them were just arranged to look livable, but a couch is a couch and for a night, that’s enough for you. 

It’s not like you can rent an AirBnb.

Your mousey life has been going okay so far – since meeting Captain America over a week ago, you managed to stay lowkey, powers included. A blackout in L.A. would be a dead giveaway.

The balmy air of the city fills your lungs and clings to your skin as you munch on the other half of the burrito you got for lunch. You haven’t been able to eat much these days—something about the migraines left you with barely enough energy (ha) to keep yourself alive.

You’d never thought you’d miss the devils in lab coats and gas masks, but you almost do. It’s hard doing it yourself, and you don’t have the access to the drugs they used.

The view is pretty from the top of the building you’re sitting on, all windows and lights and cars going up and down the elevated highways. It’s nice. You wonder what New York would look like, but you don’t have the guts to go up there. Too close.

“Nice view you got there.”

A woman’s voice makes you jump and drop your food on the floor. You groan in frustration, but your breath gets caught up in your throat when the red hair comes into your line of vision.

Natasha Romanoff.

She’s leaning casually against the door that leads to the staircase down, and you know it’s to stop you from getting to it.

“Smart move with the hair. I almost got to three other people before finding you.”

You shrug, but inside you feel a little spark of pride.

“You made me drop my dinner.”

“Sorry about that. Although half a burrito barely sounds like dinner to me. I’ll buy you a decent meal—if you agree to sit and talk to me.”

The offer was tempting, and Romanoff’s face made you want to trust her. You were starving, really, until the realization that she was going through an effort to keep that expression on made you take a step back and your appetite vanish.

“Not hungry. And I’m not really a conversational kind of girl.”

“We have a proposition you might be interested in.”

“An apartment behind bars? Rogers already made that,” Casually averting your eyes back to the skyline, you begin scanning the horizon for the rest of them.

“They’re not here. Relax.”

“Lie.”

“Yes and no. They came with me, but they’re not close enough to ambush you.”

You don’t miss how she skirted around the actual reason she was here – a proposition. Bullshit.

“Right.”

“Not that I think they couldn’t—but they won’t. Trust me.” Her voice sounds much closer than before, and you turn your head to meet her intense gaze as your hairs stand on end. She’s sizing you up; you know her methods.

You had classes on all of them before you got out.

A former field of study standing right in front of you, casually inviting you for dinner. You wonder if she knows you feel like you’re caught in a mousetrap.

“Should I?”

Natasha chuckles lightly. “Not if you’re smart. Now, I am dying for that Pho across the street, so I’m heading there. Offer stands until I walk out that door, and I’m not leaving without you. Noodles or handcuffs, take your pick.” She sighs as you square your shoulders and keep looking ahead. You can hear the creak of the door at the same time your stomach rumbles.

Oh, screw it. Might as well take your chances.

“Wait—” You catch up with her a second before the door closes. When in Rome.

Well, L.A.

Turns out the choice between food or handcuffs wasn’t one. You inhaled the Pho like it was your first meal in days, because it kind of was, and then you got your wrists bound behind you on the next.

There was just a little scuffle in the middle.

Honestly, it wasn’t your fault; Captain America and the Falcon descended on you just as you were leaving the restaurant, your belly still warm from the food.

All you managed was a snarl as you leaped away from the three and gathered the block’s electricity on your body. One by one the lamps were out, and your face was illuminated by the familiar blue glow.

Captain America’s shield deflected your first blast before being hurled in your direction, lodging itself on the wall behind you. The next hit him right on the chest. Your lips curled into a smirk.

And then the energy vanished from your hands. As if evaporated into the air.

Groaning, you concentrated on bringing it back and directing yourself to your second target. Spots filled your vision, and your head felt like it was being split open.

It was a fraction of a second, and the Falcon took it. He knocked you over your middle and handcuffed you. And that was the end of it. You vision was too blurry to react and you had to make an effort to keep yourself conscious. The lights returned to the street. Shit.

Your powers are unreliable, you know as much. And now here you are, being strapped into a high-tech aircraft by none other than Mr. America himself.

“Absolutely fucking not.”

They had finally shared what the proposition was.

You could be arrested. Or you could be arrested, but with a pretty bow on top.

“You don’t have a third choice here. This the most generous we’ve been to anyone ex-hydra.”

“Except for Barnes.” Rogers clenches his jaw, now even more pissed than he was by your swearing. “Pity you and I are not besties then.”

His hairs are still unruly from your energy blast, and it makes you smirk. No hair gel is invincible.

Natasha must have caught a wave of it too, because you notice her usually impeccable hair a little bit frizzy. You almost feel bad – she did buy you dinner, after all.

There’s something almost empathetic to her demeanor, but it must be to break your resistance. Good cop, bad cop, as they say. You’re honestly surprised Rogers is the bad one this time.

He must really hate HYDRA. And so do you.

Thing was, you were kept in the dark on most of their operations. You didn’t even know where your base was until you escaped from it: two days away from civilization across the frozen tundra.

And this felt like walking back to it, except with a government issued name.

“I don’t know all these things about them like you think I do,” You start, and you meet eyes with Sam Wilson.

“We’ll take whatever you got.” He’s frowning, as if he’s undecided about you.

“And then let me go.”

“You will be pardoned. But you’ll stay at the compound for the time being.”

That’s that pretty bow on top.

However long or what would be done with you after said pardon, no one was willing to make that clear.

“That’s a shit deal. Prison or prison! Who did you guys learn to negotiate with, the Russian mob?” You squirm on your seat, but the cuffs on your wrists and ankles are tight. Your powers nowhere to be found. All that lab fuckery for nothing.

“You’ll see the living conditions are pretty good there.” Natasha arguments. “And we have a pretty damn good doctor that can figure out whatever’s going on with you.”

You look at her like a deer caught in the headlights. You’ve always thought she had no special powers, but now you’re wondering if she can read minds.

All three of them are staring at you now.

“Your nose is bleeding.” She explains it, and you hastily wipe it on your shoulder. There goes your last good hoodie. “And I read your file. We did.”

Your file. She has your file, the thing you’ve been looking for, the answers you need.

As if on cue, the pounding on your head returns. You close your eyes, letting your head fall back and knock softly against the wall. All you wanted was to just live. No stupid powers. No running. No Avengers, no HYDRA, no migraines and nosebleeds. The boring life everyone complains about.

You didn’t want to waste away while your own body turned against you, mad someone tampered with it until things went haywire.

The promise of a solution at last makes you go quiet. 

“Fine. The Avenger Disneyland it is.”

[avengerscompound]

The Interview - Chapter 3

The Interview - A Captain America Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Rating:  E

Warnings:  Drinking, sexual innuendo

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Melody Danes

Word Count:   2108

Summary:  Melody Danes gets the break of a lifetime when as a lowly intern, she’s assigned to write a profile piece on Captain America.  Steve Rogers is a hard man not to fall for and as she and Melody get closer and Melody’s career takes off, jealousy leads to sabotage, and the potential to bring her whole world crashing down.

Chapter 3

“Rough night?”

Melody blinked up bleary-eyed and foggy-headed, right into the smiling face of Steve Rogers.  She was mortified.  Now on top of the killer hangover, she was nursing, she also had the supreme embarrassment of Captain America seeing her like this.  It was completely unprofessional given that she was on your way to interview him right now.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” she groaned.  “You weren’t supposed to see me like this.” 

Steve chuckled and shook his head.  “Don’t worry about it.  We’ve all been there.  And I’m friends with Tony Stark.  I’m not thrown off by someone struggling after a night on the town.” 

“I know but - oh god - it’s so unprofessional.  It wasn’t planned.  My cousin wanted to take me out to congratulate me for the interview and then she served me absinthe…”

Steve immediately started laughing.  “Well, that was your first mistake.”

“You’ve had absinthe?” she asked, a little surprised. 

“Well - no.  I mean - yes.  Okay, it’s complicated,” he said.

“We have a train ride to Brooklyn to talk,” she said.  “It doesn’t have to be on the record.”

“No, it can be,” he said.  “I’ve tried it.  I know the whole process.  But I was a super soldier by then, which means I metabolize things fast so I didn’t experience the effects, but I did get to witness how it affected the soldiers I was drinking with.”

“Was that during the war?” she asked.

“Yeah, we were in France, having some time off.  It was - well - soldiers, you know?” Steve said.

The thought of the war and soldiers drinking hallucinogenic cocktails made another thing pop into her head.  “Hey, when you were a kid did they still have cocaine in Coke?”

“Trace amounts from memory.  Not enough that you could feel it.  I’d have to look that up though.  But if you’re asking because you’re wondering if Captain America has consumed cocaine, yeah - I have.  They used it as pain relief.  Heroin too.  And those asthma cigarettes you talked about last time often had cannabis in them.  Things were different back then, but we’ve spoken about that.”

She shook her head.  “And how…” she laughed.

“I am just a guy.  I’m not perfect. I try to do the right thing, but I can’t pretend I always know what that is.  I have a moral compass, and sometimes when I learn more information that compass changes.  I’ve always believed consenting adults should be able to love each other freely and without interference.  I have always believed that people should have a minimum standard of living that’s met even if they’re unable to work.  That means homes, food, electricity, running water, and medical care.  I have always believed that people should be free to worship whatever god they choose - or not - as long as that worship doesn’t interfere with others or harm them.  But the nuances of those things - they’re not always clear.  Things aren’t black and white.  And I’m not an altar boy.  I drink.  I go to parties with my friends.  I even swear.” 

“And you talk about circumcision with strangers,” she said.

He started laughing and his cheeks flushed pink.  “That too.”

“Does it bother you that people see you as some kind of perfect angel?” she asked.

Steve paused to think about the question.  “No.  Generally, I don’t mind how people see me.  They can love me or hate me.  They can think I’m secretly a complete deviant.  What bothers me is when they do that and corrupt the message.  I don’t like when they think I’d be against immigrants because I wear a flag.  Or worse, they think that because they believe I wouldn’t do something, it means I would stop other people from doing it.  Does that make sense?”

“I think so,” she said.  “Like say them decided you wouldn’t have an abortion, and therefore others can’t get an abortion…”

“When I’m pro-choice,” he said.  “Exactly,”

“And are you pro-choice?” she asked.

“I am.  We have body autonomy in this country.  It extends to that too,” he said.

Melody smiled up at him, the conversation had gone a long way to alleviate the hangover.  It was like taking a two-dimensional picture and having it fill out into three-dimensional space.  She liked how the full picture looked.  It was funny, she hadn’t realized that she had formed her own biases toward the man that carried the shield.  The fact he was pro-choice surprised her, but if she thought about it, she wasn't even sure why.

She wondered if there were any other biases she was holding about him.

Melody and Steve switched to more casual banter for the remainder of the trip and got out together when they reached Brooklyn.  “So what’s the plan?” Steve asked as they headed up the stairs and into the sunshine.

“We’re meeting the staff photographer at a bagel place a few blocks down.  He wants to take some photos of you in places you recognize.  I don’t know if the building you grew up in is still here or your school maybe?  Anything that gives you strong feelings of nostalgia I guess?  As for the interview - well you’re welcome to just tell me stories or I’ll ask questions to prod you.  I’m looking for the story of Steve Rogers before he became Captain America and what led you to sign up for the program.”

Steve nodded.  “That’s doable,” he said.  “I’ve got plenty of stories to tell.  I should have brought Bucky with me.  Maybe he’d have helped.”

“You’re more than welcome to bring him along to one of these if you want to,” she said.

“I’ll let him know,” Steve said.  “Well - the first thing you should probably know is I got into a lot of fights.  You point to a spot and I probably started something I couldn’t finish there.”

“Don’t tell me Steve Rogers was a bully?” she said.

Steve laughed and shook his head.  He had shoved his hands in his pockets and hunched forward a little like he was trying to make himself smaller and less noticeable.  Up until now, he’d done things to disguise his features.  He’d put on a hat or glasses, but he walked tall.  This was the first time he seemed to want to hide his size.  “No.  Not at all.  I didn’t like bullies so I was always stepping in when I saw something that didn’t seem right.  Bullying.  Harassment.  That kind of thing.  But I also got bullied a lot.  You know being the little runt that I was, my parents had me selling newspapers when I was only very young.  And kids from the neighborhood would often jump me for them and the money I was making.”

“Why were you selling papers when you were so young?” she asked, knowing full well the larger overarching answer but wanting him to tell the story without being led.

“My parents moved here from Ireland after my dad served in World War I.  They both had work and things were going well, so they had me.  Then later they had another son.”

She pulled a file out of your messenger bag and flicked through it.  “I don’t remember you having any siblings.”

“Ah - only the really big Captain America fans know that little tidbit.  My folks didn’t even get a chance to name him officially.  He died after a couple of days.  It hit Dad hard.  He was already disappointed by how sick I was, and then to have another son die so soon - it destroyed him.  He started drinking.  Then the depression hit and he was the first to lose his job.  There wasn’t much work going for people like him and so he spiralled.  He was angry all the time.  He hit my mom regularly.  So I tried selling papers to take the burden off her.  He died in 1926 from the flu.  I was eight.”

Melody put her hand on his arm, forgetting for a moment she was interviewing him, and seeing him just a man who’d had a violent childhood that was opening up to her.  “I’m so sorry, Steve,” she said.

He turned his head and smiled at her.  There was sadness in it, but there was more than that too.  Gratitude maybe?  Hope?  “That’s something I wish I could help more with.  I want to help people trapped in abusive family situations by making it safe and easy for them to leave.  The way things are now, that’s not often the case.  I feel like America has come forward so much since I was born, and yet I also feel like there are people who are trying to push it back into the dark ages again, and in many ways, they seem to be winning.”

“Yeah.  Two steps forward one step back.  People rail against change,” Melody agreed.  “And the more accepting one part of society gets, the more closed off and angry the other side gets.” 

They arrived at the bagel shop and looked around for Peter Parker, the kid who’d be taking photos of Steve today.  True to form, he came running around the corner and down some steps he had no reason to be on in the first place and was pulling on his clothes like he forgot to dress on the way out of his house that day.  “Hey!” he called. “I’m here! I’m here!  Sorry!”

“It’s okay, Pete,” Melody assured the mousey teen.  “We just got here.”  She turned to Steve.  “Steve Rogers, this is Peter Parker, our photographer.  Pete, this is Steve…”

“I know,” Peter said, holding out his hand to shake Steve’s.  “Of course.  It’s such an honor, sir.  I’m Peter.  Peter Parker.”

“Yes,” Steve said, stifling a laugh as he shook Peter’s hand.  “She said.”

“Oh right.  Of course.  Sorry.”  Peter was making no move to stop shaking Steve’s hand and Steve looked at him, bemused.

“Peter.  Are you ready?” Melody asked.

Peter looked down at his hands and then up at Steve before quickly dropping them.  “Right.  Sorry.  Yep.  Where do we want to do this?”

“Well right down there is where I met Bucky,” Steve suggested.

“That’s a great idea,” she agreed.  “Lead the way.”

Steve led them down to a small alley.  “I was getting beaten up by some bullies who wanted me to pay them for crossing the street.  Bucky came in swinging and we have been friends ever since.”

“You two are very close.  The two of you have to be so different from when you first met.  Was rebuilding that relationship hard when you found him again after all those years?” Melody asked as Peter snapped some candids of Steve.

Steve frowned and his hand went to his hair.  “It was.  You’re right.  We both have changed so much.  People often say he’s a different person now, but so am I. But deep down we have those core things that made us who we are.  He sometimes thinks he doesn’t have it, but he does.”  He paused and looked down the alley.  “He still steps in and saves those little guys who are being picked on by people much bigger than them.”

Peter guided Steve into some posed shots by the alley and then both men looked at Melody.  “Where to now?” Peter asked.

“What do you think, Steve?  What about where you went to school?” you asked. 

“Sure.  George Washington High is here but I’m not sure about Auburndale Art School,” Steve said.  Peter got out his phone and started googling it right away. 

“You went to art school?” she asked.

“Oh yeah,” he said.  “Besides getting my ass kicked, art was my real passion.  I still draw.”

“Really?  Do you think I could see some of your art?” she asked.

“Sure,” Steve said.  “I’ll bring some next time.  Though you need to be nice.  I don’t show too many people.”

“Don’t worry,” she said.  “I don’t want James Barnes to come kick my ass for bullying his friend.”

Steve started laughing and he nudged her arm.  “Thanks.  I appreciate that.”

He paused for a second and looked between Melody and Peter.  “I just had an idea,” he said.  “I might be able to find the spot where they gave me the serum in the first place.  What about that for more photos?”

Peter looked as excited as Melody felt.  She did still want to go to the building he grew up in and his school, but if the secret headquarters for the Strategic Scientific Reserve was still there - it was too good to pass up.  She grinned at Steve. “Let’s do it.”

// NEXT

[ran-orimoto]

If you could give the frontier kids a different spirit what would it be and if you could change the designs how would they be

Among the asks I’ve received in a month ,this feels so connected to my mood and I’m happy it gave me a kick-start for a new asks row!

Takuya: THUNDER⚡️. Face it: Junpei and Takuya are two sides of the same coin and have been given the most explosive elements matching that bursting bomb of personality they have got. There’s no other element I can see for someone as impulsive as Takuya ahahah. He also ends up in the Thunder circle when they land in Sephirotmon. HHHHH MY THUNDER-FIRE WISH CONNECTION. Due to ATLA, it works so perfectly to me, idk HHHHHHHH. And also imagine an Agnimon with electric hair… He already has got a mane similar to mine when my freaking hair gets messy.

Kouji: Wind🍃. Besides the fact he also ends up in the sphere of the Wind in the Sephirotmon, I think he has always had some sort of connection with the wind? Like, in ep 2 he comments about Digiworld’s wind, he is often represented with his long hair in this wind and he’s a free spirit. Wolfmon couldn’t be absolutely called such any more ahahhahah. But tbh he could also be a sort of ninja moving as fast as the gusts of wind? Kouji can use things such as steel bars (again, ep 2) and climbs mountains, can hide pretty well (the tickle scene episode), can survive to falls. He should take on kendo imo.

Izumi: Fire🔥. The concept of the phoenix, I beg? Imagine the arc of the stolen spirit being handled much better with not only Junpei caring about her own well-being, but also with her coming to terms with a little depression about being the weakest and going through a symbolic rebirth? I’m so obsessed with Izumi’s stolen spirit arc and how dirty it has made her because it barely focused on how she felt FROM HER PERSPECTIVE It’s not right Junpei had to be the vehicle of her emotions? And do things for her while she sat there?????? Izumi???? Moreover, if she got Fire, she would be the mc and I would love it; we would, wouldn’t we?

Junpei: Water💦. To be honest, Junpei would fit Wind as well and it would be hilarious because he wouldn’t go along with his element at all, a bit what I can see Izumi x Water to be, since she always drowns in lakes and seas. Junpei has got a little funny scene featuring him wanting to understand how to orientate through the wind and failing miserably (ep 2). Then, you also have got the EXHILARATING, well-known moment from ep 4, where he tries getting Izumi’s spirit and Fairymon just surpasses him at high speed🤣 (even if Junpei being attacked and Izumi yelling his name is what wakes Fairymon up). EHM, yeah, I could joke about that and also about someone heavy getting an element making him feel as light as a feather yet still retaining his weight. Again, funny, I’d be into it, I have got my hcs about a bond between Fairymon and Junpei, but I prefer imagining Thunder and Wind bonding with each other.

So I’m giving Junpei Water because he sings like a merman tempestous boy can get an element making it rain, generating storms but in another kind of form, in a more active fashion. No, I don’t want Junpei to completely part from his element because that’s an amazing part of his writing, despite how little attention it has got: his fear of thunders, which in a similar rewrite could become fear of storms in general. I don’t think Junpei has got that great relationship with rain, either, if I have to be sincere. That day he forgot the umbrella mustn’t have been that nice on his body. Moreover , do not forget his Beast spirit was found in the sea like Ranamon’s and Fairymon’s and I have always found it so fascinating. Wind x Thunder x Water, my beloved *cough* *cough*. Idk his spirit could be based on a whale and its chants. Kill me.

And now the same suffering point to overcome: Kouichi and Tomoki, whom I don’t think about that much and I always show it. I’m sorry, guys. I’m sorry. Junpei gets two paragraphs and he balances this miserable last part.

Tomoki🪨: Earth. And don’t ask me why Train of Hope has given me this idea of Tomoki ending up being so strict and determined and kinda “I’m a person with my feet firmly pressed against Earth”. In truth, in the anime he kinda was peetty determined and down to Earth (lmao), despite being such a baby? He had his values and held onto it during the Asuramon episode, showing how much he cared about them. Idk? This is my half-assed idea and I hate it, thank you. He could still be a bear, if you ask me. Something similar to Ursaluna.

Kouichi❄️: Because Kouichi can’t be parted from his near-to-death experience in any rewrite, if you ask me, and the only thing I can connect with death is ice and cold. Do I need to explain it…? No idea how he would look like. Something closer to Duskmon than Loweemon.

Thank you for the ask~💕

[scratchandplaster]

FEBUWHUMP DAY 21 - Lightning strike

CW: parental Whumper, conditioned Whumpee, hypnosis, betrayal

Previous | [Masterlist] | Next

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The storm raging outside had been no surprise. Otis helped to upgrade the tents beforehand, so the aftermath would be predictable enough to not resow any doubts. In barely half a week, everyone who dared to saw Reuben's efforts to settle in as a smooth success.

His "other one" was still writhing aimlessly.

Nothing more than a few clicks and a hopeless fight against the sluggish Wi-Fi were necessary, after nearly two years in the dark, Shepard was awarded with the address of Luke's shelter. 427 Parkway drive - the brick front was virtually smiling at him, a half turn away from the international house of pre-diabetes and Red 40. Birdie would get an aneurysm if she every caught her children in there.

A shy knock at the door, nearly inaudibly through the gusts of wind and its rumble, ripped Shepard from his thoughts. Ben slipped through and latched it tightly shut.

Perfect timing, as if appointed. The laptop screen was preventively closed down to a bright slit.

"Hey, Dad," he carefully draped his raincoat over a rack, "I brought the kids over, they are a bit restless." Over to their guardians, as it should be. Handling even two children felt like a Herculean task to Shepard, five would go beyond any reasonable cat herding.

"Well done, sweetheart." He grabbed a spare blanket from the couch to wrap around Ben's wet self. Little droplets fell from the short curls he hopefully planned to grow out again. All bundled up, Ben was pulled in closer for a hug: "We can have a sleepover too."

"Yeah, well, I'm not stepping out there again!" He, too, felt nervous about the storm and winced at every flash of lightning shining through the windows.

"Me neither," his dad huffed skeptically, "Let's hope this shed doesn't turn into a houseboat overnight!"

Nature continued to let its fury whip through the fields, twisting and turning every loose object to its pleasure. Cradling his son and arranging him so sit comfortably on his knees was Shepard's first priority, the second quickly followed suit.

"Do you know how lightning comes to be?" he spoke and let his voice offset the wild howling behind the glass, "Far up in the clouds, thousands and thousands of little raindrops grate against each other. Imagine the tension between them, the electric current jumping from every water bead to the other, over and over and over and over, never stopping, never resting. But the tension doesn't fade. It builds up by a tenfold, over and over and over, until it has no choice but to - release."

Exhaling deep on the last word, or rather command, Ben once again found himself relaxing. Any escape from the storm was welcome.

Shepard's restless scientific speech was finally interrupted by another harsh flash that pulled his son out of the comfort surrounding them. A loud boom quickly followed.

"What do you think, Ben: is it close above or already drifting further away from us? Check this for me, please."

Ben, trying his best to stay calm and secure, began to count the seconds between lighting and thunder. This skill had been a lot more important when they used to live in the old camper: just Shepard, Luke and he.

A flash.

"One...two...three-"

Thunder rumbled.

Waiting for the next one didn't take long. Shepard kept himself busy by warming his son's freezing hands with his own.

"One...two...three...four..."

Ben lulled his brain into mindlessness at his own free will, dragging himself up and down the states of consciousness without Shepard even needing to lift a finger. Every new thunderclap brought him back up, though the lingering relaxation continued to twist into itself with every new count-up.

"...sixteen...seventeen..." The tiny thoughts got swallowed halfway between his lips and ears as Ben sunk further into Shepard's embrace.

Another round, and then another. Just as nature above, Ben stared to let go of all tension that sparked up inside his gray matter.

"...twenty-two...twenty-three..." At last, the telltale soft voice, slack face and distant gaze surrounding his son made Shepard reach out for the laptop and interrupt the peaceful counting.

"Believe it or not, I found something really interesting. Be a gem and help me for a second, starshine."

Oh. Ben could always help his dad out, it was his special talent. He sat up straight, surely this hot new project was nothing more than a breed of zucchini he wanted to cultivate or a plan to cobble a different beehive blueprint together.

Shepard, cautious and at his limit, had to be play it safe. One mistake and Lukas would slip from his grasp once again; an unforgivable error.

"I need someone to greenlight the info I've collected."

Instantly, as Ben recognized the house on the screen, his expression turned from calm to startled. Brow furrowed in confusion, he began to twist uncomfortably out of the blanket, verifying everything Shepard had to know.

"Thank you, Reuben." His father's apologetic smile didn't help a bit. Ben was shocked, more at himself than the situation he was stuck in.

"I never-"

Thunder rolled through the fields, but Ben couldn't care less. Looking away in panic, he struggled to push the gentle presence in his mind away, to resist the urge to agree with every single of Dad's words. Shepard, for one, didn't appreciate the sudden antipathy. A hand sneaked to the small of Ben's neck.

He had to ignore the soothing gestures, for Luke's sake. Ben had kept his mouth shut, he knew that he did! He was so relieved that Shepard didn't even ask once, so how was this possible? 

Should he lie to his father? They both knew he was horrible at it.

"I-I don't understand!" A single finger under his chin made Ben's face turn around to witness his helplessness mirrored in honey-brown eyes. They were studying him intently.

"I don't want you to understand, Ben," Shepard said gently, only the murmur of rain withstanding his words, "I want you to follow."

The world was pulled out from under Ben like a rug.

An all too loved force spread through his body at rapid pace, forcing his pupils to blow wide. Like a deer in the headlights, only the shock let his last thought hang by a threat of resistance.

"Don't fight it, you're going to give yourself a headache again. Just listen and follow."

Eventually, Ben's heavy eyelids fluttered until they were simply too heavy to do so anymore. Weak against any command, he collapsed into his father, arms hanging numb at the sides.

Hours of persuasive assurance were now ingrained as absolute truth into the most delicate part of his mind, the one that wailed for fatherly attention. It listened without protest. In return, Shepard would always take care of it, finally making a pledge in earnest. 

There was lightning at the end of the valley.

This time, Shepard counted for his son, pressing his mind deeper into docility. Ben was safe, loved and a traitor; gone completely as he slipped down the shortcut which Shepard had whittled into the twirls of his cerebral cortex. 

The chances to twist away from him again were just as lost. The storm had moved on.

"Secrets will only eat you up, it's better to share them. I absolve you from my and Luke's complicated arguments. I swear I will never make you do something like this again," Shepard assured and carefully stroked along his son's back, allowing the fatigue to catch on, "It's an emergency, you surely agree. We need Luke, just as he needs us."

Acceptance popped up in his son's face: he was an open book you could rip newly written pages out of and blacken to your whim. Reuben would've never survived out there, nothing to be ashamed of.

Shepard warily carried him to the cot and turned the heater on high. Electricity was the office's main perk. One day, Ben's mind would explode because of all his contradictory feelings. For now, it was kept safe in capable hands.

Shepard needed to pack his essentials, yet before setting out he made sure no sting of guilt would bother Reuben in the morning.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Thanks for reading 🤍 [Febuwhump 2024 Masterlist]

@febuwhump

[azurefishnets]

Personal Demons

I thank you, as always, @arbuthnotblob, for you to have indulged me yet again with your prompts for my most beloved FFVI/GT AU for @fyeahghosttrick's Ghost Swap 2023. Four years we've been doing this (Really???!) and I still owe you my life every time!

AO3 Profile Fandom: Ghost Trick: Phantom Detective Words: 1139 Summary: PREVIOUSLY: Cabanela, Pigeon Man (Cidgeon in the AU), & Jowd have made their way overland to find the abandoned ruins of Mobliz, along with their old friend, the esper Sissel. Sissel has thrown himself into raising and caring for a litter of kittens; reluctantly the rest of the group agrees to leave him there and move on.

But, before they go, does Sissel need a little help getting food for the kids? Cabanela knows a few tricks of his own that can help.

Cabanela walked out of what had once been the Mobliz post office, looking for Sissel. The esper had made it clear already he wasn’t coming; Cabanela couldn’t blame him seeing who Sissel had become in order to protect the last fragile children of Mobliz. Kittens were small, vulnerable, too easy to overlook in world where monsters roamed free. It would have been nice, though, Cabanela conceded, if only to himself, to have had a little more time to talk with the esper before the world had come to this. They really had never gotten to know each other despite their short time travelling to Narshe over a year prior.

It wasn’t a way to convince Sissel to join them that Cabanela sought, not really. It was more a feeling, an odd kinship with a being utterly alone and unique in the way he experienced the world. And, hard as it was to admit, even to himself, Cabanela longed to explore, even for a short time, that kinship. Cidgeon was taciturn at the best of times. Jowd barely spoke, and that mostly to the Professor. Cabanela was ready to talk, to anyone, just to hear the sound of a conversation that wasn’t built on regrets, unwillingly broken promises, or the remembrance of mutual sacrifices made both willingly and under duress.

For now, there was an odd feeling in the air, like ozone or static electricity, just waiting to shock the unwary soul. Cabanela looked toward the river, and walked carefully down the muddy bank to the edge where Sissel sat in his feline form, ears swiveling to catch any unusual sounds. “Hey there, baby,” he said. “Miiind if I join you?”

“Sure,” Sissel said, and returned to his human form. “Did you need something?”

“I belieeeve that’s my line,” Cabanela said. “We’ll be headin’ out soon—thanks for the tip about the chocobo stables, we’ll be stoppin’ by for sure—but I wanted to make sure you had what you needed for the kids before we go.”

“Yeah.” Sissel pointed at the river. “As long as I’m careful, the fish here are decent and there’s lots.”

Cabanela grinned at him. “And you’re OK with gettin’ a little wet, baby?”

Sissel waved a dismissive hand. “I’m not the kind of guy who’s going to let them go hungry when I can catch food easy.”

“Sure, sure.” Cabanela peered out at the river. “Lots of fish out there at the moment, huuuh?”

“Mmm.” Sissel looked at the water. “I slow them down so they get bunched up. It’s easier to catch them that way.”

“Ah! How about I give you a haaand with that, and we can help you set them up to dry so you have a stockpile. Fish for daaays, baby! What do you say?”

“What’s your plan?” Sissel looked Cabanela up and down. “I ‘m pretty sure I remember you don’t care to get messy either.”

“No muss, no fuss!” Cabanela pointed at the river. “Little localized lightning, float ‘em on up to the bank. Easy-peasy.”

“Uh…” Sissel looked back and forth from him to the river. “I don’t know. That sounds…risky.”

“Whaaat’s the risk?” Cabanela said. “You need food for lots of hungry mouths in there.”

“I suppose. It’d be nice to have the help.” Sissel still sounded dubious. “But I don’t think we should be out here for long. Let’s make it a little quicker at least”

He cast a spell and Cabanela found the movements of his limbs sped up, arms and legs blurring into double their usual speed.

“That’s the way!” he said, grinning, and cast a weak lightning bolt at the surface of the river. Fish began to float to the surface, and together Cabanela and Sissel cast Float to bring them up to the shore. Just as the pile began to grow, a roar echoed through the air.

“Crap!” Sissel hissed and morphed back into a cat. “Get back! Phunbaba’s coming!”

“Eh?” Cabanela had just enough time to hear Sissel’s threatening yowl before the Esper leapt in a blur towards a large green creature that rose from the water. Sissel hissed and scratched, biting at the thing and leaping away.

“I can help!” Cabanela cried, and began to call the lightning.

“No!” Sissel yelled, and left off the attack to knock Cabanela out of the way of a spray of needles that shot from the thing’s back in reaction to the thunder magic gathering in the air. “He’s too strong for you! I can drive him away, just... stop helping.”

He turned back to the thing, the demon of the river, and hissed one more time, baring his fangs and tearing at it as he blurred in and out of the thing’s reach. Finally, it let out a kind of burbling grumble and jumped back into the river, kicking at the pile of fish as it went in a fit of petty malice.

Sissel stayed on the river bank, back in his human form in order to better catch his breath. “You see why I have to stay?” he said. “That demon takes everything I can throw at it and keeps coming back. I can’t beat it; I think it’s being powered by the guy in the tower somehow.”

Cabanela made a noise that sounded rather like an inelegant grunt but let it go. “Sorry, baby,” he said instead, ruefully looking over the mess that had been made of their operation. “Didn’t get nearly as many as I thought we would.”

“It’s plenty,” Sissel said. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate it. I just think you’d better go before you call it back. It always comes during storms… I don’t know why I thought magic would make it act any different. I should have known better.”

“Nothin’s the way it should be,” Cabanela agreed, and turned back to the fish. “…Guess I can’t use magic to get them away from the water, huh.”

“Nope.” Sissel bent down and grabbed an armful. “But it should only take a couple of loads.”

“You know what, baby, I’ll just go grab Jowd,” Cabanela said with even more alacrity than he would have had he been Hasted. “He’s got… bigger arms. For bigger armfuls. Of fish.”

Sissel gave him a jaded look. “Mhm. I’ll be here.”

Cabanela backed up the bank and fled, but not before Sissel called out to him one more time.

“Hey, Cabanela,” he said, and smiled. “You’re not a bad guy. Thanks.”

Cabanela blinked at him, oddly touched. How long had it been since someone had thanked him, sincerely, without seeing someone else? Too long, he decided. He needed to work even harder to make sure he was the only Cabanela people looked for.

He nodded at Sissel and sped away, wings on his feet and just a little lighter of heart too.

[afterdarkprincess]

Aftershocks Part 7

Happy Raw Night everyone!!

We’re getting teasy and flirty ;)

Samijey endgame

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Tags for @feelschicken @southerngirl41 and @whumpypunk

Cold water ran down Sami’s body, a welcome relief to his flushed skin. He was doing his best to not think about the singular bed in the other room and the beautiful Samoan waiting there.

The beautiful Samoan that had been betrayed and beat down by his entire family today.

What was wrong with him?

He pushed the temperature dial deeper to cold and let the shock of cold water break his thought patterns. He washes his hair and beard, rubbing away the sweat and anxiety of the day, relishing in the sensations of his minty soap against the cool water.

It’s a herculean effort to leave the shower, but eventually he shuts the water off and steps out to dry off.

He’d grabbed some sleep clothes before his shower, a life on the road and free shirts keeps him stocked in comfy attire. He dons some loose basketball shorts and one of his old “Honorary Uce” shirts. Jey will get a kick out of that.

Sami throws his toiletries back into his travel bag and takes a deep breath.

He’s going to go out there and get into his side of the bed like everything is totally normal. Very simple. He can’t mess this up.

Or so he thinks.

Sami exits the bathroom and rounds the corner to find Jey kneeling on the bed, facing away from him toward the headboard, his thick thighs barely covered by a tight pair of boxer briefs, seemingly adjusting the pillows.

Jey, seemingly satisfied with his pillow arrangement or just hearing Sami approach, twists around to reveal that the too short crop top he’s wearing is none other than the “Feeling Ucey” shirt.

How appropriate.

Jey is making a comment about their matching shirts, but Sami is lost in the sight of a good 4 or 5 inches of the other man’s back and stomach, the tattoos he’d gotten recently, and the healthy glow of his skin.

Realistically this isn’t an out of the ordinary outfit for Jey to be sleeping in. When he shared hotel rooms with the rest of the bloodline, the brothers were naturally comfortable with one another, often wearing just boxers or boxers and shirts.

But Jey looked like he’d been served up for Sami on a silver platter and it had thrown Sami’s plan to just lay down right out the window.

His mouth is suddenly dry, but he tries for a casual tone. “You look good, I mean- uh the new tattoos? On your back I mean, they look good. Nice.”

Nailed it.

Jey grins and it’s a thing of beauty. Cheesy and with a familiar twinkle of mischief in his eyes.

“Thanks man, wanna see?” He immediately starts yanking off the crop top, much to Sami’s delight and horror.

Sami feels his face flush again, does his best to avert his eyes.

“Oh- uh thanks but, I think I just wanna wind down, watch some TV, yeah?” Sami is trying desperately to look anywhere but at the delicious tan skin now on display. His reply was quick but Jey was faster.

Jey now sits on his side of the bed, bare from the waist up. His face seems to fall at Sami’s reply, but he settles back into his pillows all the same. “Yeah, Uce, thats fine. No biggie.”

Sami sits himself up against the headboard, adjusting some pillows to prop his back up.

He grabs the remote off the nightstand, turning the TV on to some late night game show and tries to relax.

Silence hangs heavy between them.

Sami doesn’t know what to say that isn’t going to come out an incoherent mess. He had been tired, he should be tired for the late hour that it is, but between the cold shower and the electric air, sleep is the last thing on his mind.

He watches Jey shift out of the corner of his eye, still shirtless and wiggling his hips to sink further into the bed.

It should be illegal how good he looks.

Jey almost puts him in mind of the dog he had as child; rolling around to get comfortable and not satisfied until its just so.

At one point, the Samoan twists his shoulders, attempting to turn on his side, when a groan escapes his lips.

It sounded pretty painful, finally pulling Sami’s eyes over to Jey to look at him fully again.

He’s laying on his side now, facing Sami. He’s resting on top of the sheets, head propped up on one hand, face wincing in tension.

“You okay over there?” Sami asks, concern overriding his dirty mind.

Jey nods his head, “Yeah, uh jus’ tight, you know? Sore.”

“Makes sense,” Sami nods, the match had been brutal. He was honestly surprised Jey didn’t have more complaints than some tight muscles.

Silence falls between them again and Sami’s gaze turns back to the TV.

“You know,” Jey says, his tone light. “A massage sounds pretty good right now..”

Just an observation. A statement of fact. But Sami is reeling.

“A massage?”

Jey sighs, grinning. “Yeet, it’d help.”

Sami could feel his face burning. “You… you want me to give you a massage?”

Surely this was a joke.

“Uh, yeah, Sami!” Jey is acting like this is normal, and it very much is not.

“Are you fucking with me?” Sami had to ask, his voice strained and sincere. He hoped he didn’t come off as offended but this felt like a dream.

Jey locked eyes with him, expression serious. “M’not fuckin’ with you. You don’ have to if you don’ wanna.”

“No!” He definitely says it too fast, arm shooting out to touch Jey’s shoulder before he can roll over and away from him. “I mean, no, I don’t mind. I-if you’re sure?”

Jey grins again, “Yeah man, lemme just get on my front here.” He flops onto his stomach with relative ease and stretches out.

Sami’s sure his jaw is on the floor.

Jey looks like a feast set out before him, and despite passing up on checking out the new tattoos earlier, they’re all he can look at now.

Sami’s a little bit at a loss for how to approach this, maybe go around and stand on the other side of the bed? Or kneel on the bed on the side he’s already on?

Maybe straddle and sit on Jey’s legs?

His face flushes even further. He’ll start with kneeling.

-—

WE’RE GETTING SPICY

[grilledcheeseat3am]

I’m learning to like summer again

The heat on my skin

The happiness of everyone around me

But it took a long time to get there.

That’s the thing about mental illness

It takes away the things you like

And it leaves behind a prickling

Unease

Like something’s been misplaced

Like the most important things you’ve ever had are stuck in your couch cushions.

And it should be so easy, but you can’t lift them up.

I used to walk around feeling like danger was on the tip of my tongue

The wind would shift, the shoe would drop,

The electric charge of near hysteria waiting to hiss its way up my chest

and burrow into my lungs.

I was ten when I decided I hated summer.

And not for the heat or anything so mundane as that.

It was how bright everything was. The way you were expected to want to have fun.

It was the pools. Always the pools.

Even when my drowning obsession was at its peak.

I would stand in my rainbow swimsuit and stare at the crystal blue water I used to love and wish with all my heart it was winter.

The thing about obsessions is they twist and change. The electric charge fizzles. The shoe never drops.

(It never will. That’s the thing about OCD. You’re stuck in midair, waiting.)

And you realize.

Halfway through a beer, floating lazily on a tube in the lake, right as your friend laughs

Bright and free and clear

The sun hasn’t felt this good in ages

And water doesn’t scare you anymore.

So yeah, I like summer again. It only took sixteen years of wishing for rain. I think it was people that healed it for me. Made my lungs stop burning their way through August.

Made me laugh in July.

[morganski-19]

A Movie I’ve Seen Before

It was cold. The trees rustled behind Steve, the breeze making him shiver. Pinks and Oranges painted the sky as the sun started to set. It was peaceful, Steve felt peaceful. He doesn’t always quite remember what it’s like to be, so he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, letting his feet dangle over the edge of the cliff.

“I don’t think that’s exactly safe, Harrington,” a voice teases from behind him. Steve can’t help but be confused as to who it is. Suddenly, there is a cold beer being placed in his hands and a person sitting down next to him. Legs adorned in black jeans join his over the cliff's edge. “I mean, wouldn't want you accidentally falling off now would we?”

Steve turns his head to find Eddie Munson taking a long sip from a beer bottle, something in him making him turn away fast. “If it’s so dangerous then why are you here sitting next to me?” he finds himself responding.

Eddie snorts as his face breaks out into a wide smile. “Maybe I like dangerous.” Steve can’t find himself disagreeing. He lets them fall back in silence, looking back out over the quarry, only hearing the soft clinking of Eddie’s rings on his beer bottle. “So,” Eddie starts slowly, “bring all your dates out here, Harrington?”

“Is this a date?” Steve looks back over at Eddie, his brows knitting together in confusion.

“Well, isn’t it?” There is a softness in Eddie’s eyes that Steve doesn’t think he’s ever seen before.

Steve finds himself staring at Eddie, thinking about the question. It does seem like a date, not one he’d choose for a girl, but maybe one he’d choose for Eddie. Seems like something he would enjoy. Nothing big or romantic, but small and thoughtful. Away from the noise of the town and the wandering eyes of gossip. Just the two of them, together, alone. Steve can’t find a reason as to why it wouldn’t be one, or why he actually quite likes the idea.

“Yeah,” Steve says while meeting Eddie’s eyes, a small smile forming on his face. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

Eddie matches Steve’s smile, bumping Steve’s shoulder as he adverts his eyes back to the water. He feels a small warmth build on his face. Steve takes a sip of his beer, the slightly bitter taste lingering on his tongue. Not much is said between them, neither of them wanting to break the peaceful bubble that surrounds them.

Soft rain starts to fall on Steve’s shoulder, but he can’t seem to care. He doesn’t want to move, doesn’t want to have this moment end. It might not be his decision to, as the soft rain picks up, and starts to turn into a downpour.

Eddie stands, reaching out his free hand down to Steve. “Probably should go, don’t want to get too soaked.”

“Probably.” Steve grabs Edddie’s hand, letting himself be pulled off the group. He leads Eddie over to his car when he feels a large splash on his lower legs. Turning around, he finds Eddie looking back at him with a wicked grin. Taking his opportunity, Steve kicks at the puddle forming at his feet, spraying the muddy water all over Eddie’s legs.

A bark comes out of Eddie at the contact. “Playing dirty, are we now, Stevie?”

Steve holds his hands up in defense. “Hey, you started it.”

“That may be true, but that doesn’t mean I won’t finish it.” Eddie bends down and swipes his hand through the puddle, spraying the water up higher at Steve. He responds by kicking at the puddle again, hitting Eddie’s chest this time.

They go back in forth like this for a while, letting the rain fall around them while they splash around like children. The weirdest thing about all of this is how Steve doesn’t want it to stop. He hasn’t had fun like this since he was a kid, barely even allowed to play in puddles then. But something about the way Eddie is laughing is electric, fueling him to keep going even if that means his car seats will get covered in mud. Steve thinks he’d do anything to hear Eddie laugh like this.

Somehow the two of them get close, breaking into uncontrollable laughter. Eddie rests his shoulder on Steve’s, holding onto him while he tries to catch his breath. Steve doesn’t know why, but he has the urge to pull him closer, but he doesn’t.

“Thank you for humoring me, Harrington. This was fun.” Eddie brings his head up to meet Steve’s eyes.

A small line of muddy water runs down Eddie’s cheek, Steve reaches out a hand to wipe it away, leaving it resting there. “It really was,”

It occurs to him how close they are standing, their faces only inches apart. For some reason, Steve finds himself leaning in, brushing his nose against Eddie’s. “Steve, you have to wake up.”

“What.” Steve pulls back confused.

“Steve, wake up.” The figure before him fades.

Continue on ao3

[weaselle]

here’s the real shit:

If you need it to live, it shouldn’t cost you money.

Fancy food? absolutely, get you a job, eat whatever kind of food makes you feel like royalty. Basic sustenance sufficient to be completely healthy? Should be free if you need it. Fancy house? hell yeah, get you a big money job and live in a mansion. Basic housing? Should be free if you need it. Fashionable clothing? Better find an income so you can buy that Gucci. A pair of overalls, shoes, and a jacket so you are covered and warm? Should be free if you need it. Super fancy education? pay up. Good education through college and continued access to information? Should be free to all.

And medical needs? Forget it, listen, if we have the ability to heal someone but we don’t do it, then I know we’re doing the devil’s work, and I’m not even religious.

I know people are gonna have problems so let me get an inb4

First of all, most people won’t just take these basics and then sit on their ass and do nothing, humans are gonna do shit - have you seen what people do in their free time already? Whole huge industries like youtube and hobby stores and shit are based on how much people want to do stuff – you literally cannot sit people in a room with a button labeled “will give you electric shocks” and nothing else to do without them pressing the button (there was an actual study done)

Secondly, most people are generally either not satisfied with the basics, or are only okay with the basics because it allows them to pursue some other worthy goal like school or art or caring for a family member full time or something. So i guarantee most people will still be seeking employment, only jobs will have to pay what people actually feel they are worth instead of paying what desperate people will agree to work for.

All studies of Universal Basic Income experiments and similar have indicated these things are true.

And last, if your undies are still in a bunch over people needing to contribute to “deserve” stuff like food and housing, let me say two things

A: in our earliest groups, humans provably cared for individuals who were not capable of hunting or gathering. Perhaps those individuals contributed in other ways. Perhaps they were loved and their company and presence was considered contribution enough. Or perhaps humanity was such that we just plain wouldn’t let another human in our group starve when we could share our food instead. Whatever the case, we gave up that kind of group to live in this kind of group, and if we can’t maintain that same level of humanity and kindness, then it is a worse group and we should fix it or go back to the other sort.

B: in general, i agree that people should contribute to gain access to things. I think most people WANT to contribute, it seems to me to be hardwired into us as social animals. Personally, i think the artist making do with basic accommodations, eating simple mass foods and wearing government issued clothing so they can spend their time creating music, writing books, practicing dancing or painting or idk, making “how to solve: my computer doesn’t recognize my phone for importing pictures” videos for free on youtube, you know, i think they ARE contributing (shout out to the unsung How To Video heroes, my gods, where would we be without them)

But if you want to talk about really contributing in a targeted societal needs kind of way, then i’m all for that too! So lets talk about some kind of system where, for example, everyone who is physically or mentally able spends 3 years between high-school and college in a National Projects Corps, like the army, but instead they travel to places in our country and are trained and put to work replacing roads, or becoming basic staff in hospitals, or building schools, or doing maintenance on bridges, or doing data entry for public health labs, or, idk, fixing the fucked up water in Flint. Three years seeing other parts of the country, meeting people from other walks of life, and learning valuable skills.

Best of all, a system like this has organic balances. You get a population boom? Well, you’re going to need a lot more public housing, and guess what? you also have enough hands to help build it, because of the population boom. Then, if you’re the kind of person who has a hardline belief about contributing to society, when you see somebody in government-issued overalls living a public apartment complex, you can rest easy knowing they probably fixed roads or built bridges or worked on the sewers or something, just like you.

And by the way, this would ACTUALLY create more of that free market effect people say should fix things. Like, if I have easy free access to food no matter what, i can then choose to only buy sustainably sourced food or whatever.

Anyway, there’s different ways to do it, but basically, if you need something to live a healthy life, a lack of money should never mean you go without it. If you need it to live a healthy life, you should get it. Everything else can cost money, there can still be expensive food and fancy houses, that’s fine, but the basics should be available to all. For free. Because we’re human and in a group together.

[sroloc--elbisivni]

💙 cant believe i forgot to send you one of these. feel free to use this as an opportunity to publically brag about an au i've already heard about if you like :P

thanks space! i've had a long week and a spiked hot chocolate so i'm tempted to go full throttle into the 'beloved pets of the foot clan' au of tmnt 2012 but i don't actually think tumblr at large is ready for that. so instead i am going to think about what i talk about every time we watch bug busters we should watch bug busters again which is an AU of Rise of the TMNT where Leo doesn't quite manage to get to his brothers before Big Mama ships them off to be arena clowns for the Battle Nexus. He's not quite good enough with his portal swords to get there himself yet, and Big Mama is having ALL the entrances watched and besides, him there is what she wants. so he switches tactics.

He starts out by leaving a little note on big mama’s desk that says ‘you have an hour to return my brothers. every hour that goes by after, i will break something else.’ The first something else is the hotel's electrical grid. The second something else is Big Mama's desk chair. Then he starts to get creative.

Meanwhile, over at the arena, Raph is befriending all the gladiators (they're so cool! like if all his favorite wrestlers went armed!), Mikey is explaining to everyone he can find how unions work, and Donnie has gotten distracted by how poorly all of the living quarters are constructed so he's decided to 'improve' them. Structural flaws in the doors, single-reinforced cuffs, NO panopticon efficiency WHATsoever, and you call this a prison, please. It's okay, he's FIXING it. (Raph: Donnie, wait, stop fixing the locks, what if we need to leave--)

Back in the hotel Leo's extended sabotage routine is enhanced by the arrival of Baron Draxum who heard Big Mama stole from him, and since he hasn't thrown Leo off a roof yet Leo actually is willing to do an 'enemy of my enemy is my friend' routine with him, ESPECIALLY after he finds out Draxum created them. Details now please and thank you. Between All Of That, and the chaos the trio of arena clowns have been raising by becoming beloved mascots (Raph and Mikey) and implementing a better water heater system (Donnie) Big Mama throws them all out the doors of the Nexus Hotel and slams everything shut behind them a full forty-nine hours after initial acquisition. It's enough time for the arena clown trio to find out that Lou Jitsu, their personal hero Lou Jitsu, was battle nexus CHAMPION. they go home SO excited to tell Splinter about this.

Splinter was already panicking because it's been two days and April didn't know where they were and none of them would answer their PHONES, just BLUE and he was out of breath. When they go 'YEAH WE WENT TO THE BATTLE NEXUS RAPH GOT TO SLEEP IN LOU JITSU'S BED DID YOU KNOW HE'S OUR DAD' he has to go lie down for a while.