#dumb fanfic idea

[justaz]

merthur marriage of convenience. arthur is complaining that his council is on his ass about marrying and siring an heir and they keep trying to arrange marriages but arthur doesn't fucking want any of them. merlin knows that arthur would like to marry someone he loves but he also knows that arthur has shown no interest in like anyone except when he was enchanted so like...who tf is he gonna marry? he needs to marry someone to get the council off his ass so he's just like "why not marry a friend? ik it wouldn't be a marriage of love but at least you'd have some control and choice in this." and arthur is like "hm. but who tho?"

anyways they make a list of everyone they know who can bear children (bc arthur will need an heir eventually). then they narrow it down, crossing off names like gwen bc she is happily married to lancelot and in a loving relationship with morgana (she has two hands and i love morgwencelot) and morgana (she's literally arthur's sister but they were just putting every name they could think of down first) and elyan (he may be able to bear children but they know he wouldn't be happy going through it bc of medieval dysphoria). eventually it's down to two names, mithian and merlin and arthur looks at merlin's name then up at him and is like "you're literally a trained physician so you should know this but you were literally born a man...how tf are you gonna bear children?" and my beloved genderfluid magic incarnate emrys just shifts her form to female and is like "don't be an idiot. anyways, mithian or me?"

dumb idiot whipped and in love arthur is like "you" and dumb idiot whipped and in love merlin is like "bet". anyways they marry but they're very insistent it's just as friends. lol they have to consummate the marriage the losers. they insist they did that as friends too. the entire round table has way too much fun with this. anyways they remain married "as friends" as they slowly morph into a very loving and touchy relationship "as friends" until they're like casually kissing as greetings and farewells and have that moment of "oh shit we're like actually married and in love" bc they're stupid dumb idiots.

anyways they unite albion and are recognized as high king arthur and high queen merlin and finally have an heir - the high prince/princess whatever you prefer. uhhhh anyways merthur happy ending bc i'm a sucker for it.

[overwhelmed-alien]

Jake’s Truck Chicken Saga: The Beginning

“Where’d you get this ugly thing?” Bradley asked as he hoisted himself into the passenger seat of Jake’s truck, knocking the fuzzy little stuffed chicken out of the way.

“What do you mean,” Jake said from the driver’s seat, “he looks just like you.” He looked affronted as he picked the little red rooster up from the floorboard and perched it gingerly back on the cup holders between them. “Sounds just like you, too.” He squeezed the plushie and it let out an ungodly screeching groan that sounded nothing like a real chicken, or a pilot called Rooster. Bradley huffed, but couldn’t help the exasperated grin that stole across his face as Jake backed out of the driveway.

“Where do you think we should eat, Roo?” Jake asked a while later.

“Hmm, I was thinking we could go t-“

“Wasn’t talking to you, babe.”

“…what?”

“I wasn’t talking to you. I was asking Roo.” Jake nodded down to the plushie.

Dumbfounded, Bradley looked down at the chicken, then up to the love of his life, who had apparently gotten a little too much sun at the beach yesterday. “…sooo. This is gonna be a thing now, huh?”

Jake grinned. He’d seen the little rooster in the sparse toy section of a convenience store last weekend, shoved precariously between a purple octopus and a…well, a whale with the unicorn horn, whatever it’s called -Jake wasn’t a marine biologist, he was from Texas. He’d picked it up and it had immediately screamed at him, startling him with its intensity, its whiskey brown eyes seemingly staring into his soul. Jake couldn’t help but smile. “Hey little fella. You remind me of someone. Wanna go for a ride?” An absurd sixteen dollars and seventy two cents later, the little rooster was perched happily on the cup holder beside him. Jake had procured himself a new wingman.

“Yeah, sugar. It’s definitely gonna be a thing now.”

Jake’s wingman:

[fishfission-dc]

Batfamily Powerpoint Night! (Part 10: Alfred)

<<Part 9: Barbara 

[Masterlist]

Alfred: Actually, I have prepared something I would like you all to see.

Bruce: Oh lord...

[collective sigh]

Alfred: I have noticed that many of you are electing not to return used dishes to their proper location to be washed. 

Barbara: Oooh... that one’s on me, sorry Alfred.

Alfred: Miss Gordon, I trust you not to spill anything on the computer console, but I still think it best not to have open beverages in the presence of... other company.

Dick: Is he talking about-

Tim: Yeah he’s talking about us.

Bruce: Hn.

Steph: Only Bruce does this, Alfred, I promise.

Alfred: I am well aware, Miss Brown. 

Bruce: ...sorry.

Duke: How do you not spill anything using mugs in the Batmobile?

Cass: (signing) Impressive.

Jason: Okay, this one has to be Dick.

Dick: ...That’s probably me.

Tim: A teacup? A teacup and its saucer??

Dick: I was already drinking it at the time-

Alfred: Just bring it back next time.

Steph: HA

Damian: ...They like the-

Alfred: I highly doubt the dogs have a preference of plates.

Damian: ...understood.

Jason: WHICH ONE OF YOU-

Tim: STEPH. STEPH THAT IS YOUR BELT.

Steph: I CAN EXPLAIN

Barbara: Steph why is a mug in your-

Steph: I BRING THE MUGS HOME AND I PUT THEM IN MY BELT TO REMEMBER TO BRING THEM BACK TO ALFRED BUT THEN I FORGET

Duke: How many mugs are in your belt right now? 

Steph: ...

Dick: Steph.

Steph: A couple...

Alfred: Three. I checked twenty minutes ago.

Steph: ...Sorry Alfred.

Tim: ...Okay-

Dick: Tim. How on Earth-

Steph: HOW IS THIS ANY WORSE THAN ME KEEPING MUGS IN MY BELT

Tim: Sometimes I save time by eating in the shower!

Jason: That is like... a family sized tupperware container.

Damian: Drake, this is no longer efficiency, it is insanity. 

Tim: ...Sorry Alfred.

Bruce: ...how-

Barbara: Cass... Cass this has to be you.

Cass: (signing) ...Sorry.

Steph: Honestly I’m not surprised by this.

Duke: Are we not concerned that Alfred’s been repeatedly climbing into the rafters to collect these dishes?

Alfred: Oh it’s not the furthest length I’ve gone for you all...

Bruce: I may have left a serving dish at the Kents’ apartment in Metropolis, I apologize.

Tim: I don’t think I left anything in San Francisco... or Nanda Parbat.

Dick: TAMARAN?! I’m probably responsible for New York and Bludhaven, but that one was NOT me.

Jason: Ooooh, yeah... uh... that was probably me...

Steph: You left a tupperware container on Tamaran?!

Jason: And maybe... other places... I keep forgetting to bring them home.

Damian: How many of these locations are you responsible for, Todd?

Jason: Uh... definitely Star City and Tamaran... and Miami... Paris... and Washington, Hong Kong... maybe also Nanda Parbat. Oh, and I definitely left a cup in San Francisco...

Barbara: Oh my god.

Jason: ...Sorry Alf. Won’t happen again.

Alfred: I’m glad you appreciate the leftovers, Master Jason, but yes, please return the dishware.

Duke: Oh that’s definitely my bad... Sorry Alfred.

Alfred: It’s alright, my dear boy, you didn’t know.

Bruce: ...how long has that been the system?

Dick: Probably not long... I definitely didn’t do that as a kid...

Jason: Definitely changed while I was dead...

Alfred: That has been the system for 42 years, I would appreciate if all of you started adhering to it.

[a chorus of “Sorry, Alfred” as they retrieve their dishes, thus ending Powerpoint Night. The end.]

<<Part 9: Barbara

[Masterlist]

[byhuenii]

Cause you’re hot n you’re cold

Pairing Bucky Barnes x Reader

Synopsis You’re taken. Bucky? “Single.” Except he flirts with you nonstop like a desperate maniac. The team’s losing it Spoiler: it’s your messy, secret love life and Bucky’s terrible flirting that’s the real mission.

Word Count 5k

Tags + Warnings mild swearing, playful flirting, secret relationship, consensual romantic relationship, bucky (yes he is his own warning), light team drama, jealousy mentions, shirtless scenes (no smut). lots of comedy & chaos, reader discretion advised, small usage of Y/N.

— Cause you’re hot n you’re cold just straight messy and entertainment for you and bucky

There were only two kinds of Thunderbolts team meetings.

1) The kind where someone almost died, or 2) The kind where someone almost killed someone else for saying something stupid.

Today’s meeting was flirting with both.

Yelena had her feet up on the table, chewing sunflower seeds like she was watching an execution. Ava sat next to her, arms crossed, watching you. Bob was looking at the ceiling like he wanted God to beam him out of existence. John was muttering into his coffee. And Alexei was eating raw tuna from a Ziploc bag.

In the middle of it all?

Bucky Barnes.

Slouched. Smirking. Staring at you.

And you, bless your soul, were doing everything you could to pretend he wasn’t slowly driving the team into a collective breakdown.

“So,” you said, trying to get the debrief back on track, “we neutralized the target and recovered the tech. Minimal civilian interference—”

Bucky leaned over and murmured, “You looked good out there.”

You blinked. “Excuse me?”

“That left hook? Hot.”

You deadpanned. “I have a boyfriend.”

He leaned back, arm slung across the chair next to him. “Still haven’t seen him.”

John choked on his drink.

Ava looked personally betrayed.

Bob made a sound like a balloon deflating.

Yelena actually spit out her seeds.

You didn’t even flinch. You just turned to face the projector again and muttered under your breath:

“This is why we said no PDA.”

—

FLASHBACK: The PowerPoint

You and Bucky had prepared for this. Or you had.

The moment Val stuck you on the Thunderbolts assignment, you knew things would get complicated. You were good at compartmentalizing. You were smart. Logical.

Bucky was… not those things when it came to you.

So naturally, you made rules.

You’d sat him down with a coffee, a frown, and a tablet that read:

“THE OPSEC PLAN: Keeping Our Relationship Under Wraps (So No One Murders You)”

Slide 1: No hand-holding. Slide 2: No calling you pet names. Slide 3: No post-mission cuddles in visible places. Slide 4: No looking at you like you invented the sun. Slide 5: No making you blush in front of John Walker because he’d die of secondhand embarrassment and Bob would have to resuscitate him.

“Babe,” Bucky had said, arm around your waist, “this is adorable.”

“Stop calling me babe.”

“‘Sweetheart’ better?”

You sighed. “You’re going to get us caught.”

“I’m going to get you flustered,” he said, nuzzling your neck. “The team’s never gonna notice a thing.”

Spoiler alert: the team absolutely noticed.

—

Back in the meeting, you barely got through the mission notes without spontaneous combustion.

As soon as it ended, Yelena stood up, clapped once, and said, “Right. I’m investigating.”

“What?” you asked.

“Whatever’s going on with you and Barnes,” she said. “I’m sick of it.”

“You mean him flirting,” Ava added darkly. “It’s predatory at this point.”

Bob nodded solemnly. “It’s emotional warfare.”

“I’m fine,” you insisted.

Yelena narrowed her eyes. “You have a boyfriend.”

You nodded firmly. “Yes. I do.”

“Name?”

You froze.

Your brain pulled up a blank file labeled “Panicked Lies.”

“Uh… Ben.”

“BEN?” Yelena echoed, like you said Voldemort.

“Ben who?” Ava asked suspiciously.

“…Smith?”

Bob looked like he wanted to die.

John stood up and announced, “I’m filing a report.”

“There’s no HR,” you said again, exasperated.

“And yet this still feels wildly illegal,” Bob muttered.

Alexei raised his tuna. “I like this game. Make up more fake boyfriends! ‘Derek Ice-Biceps!’ ‘Chad Thundercheeks!’”

Everyone stared at him.

“I hate it here,” Ava whispered.

There were conspiracy theories, and then there was whatever Yelena was doing in the laundry room with a corkboard, three pushpins jammed into her mouth, and a very concerned Bob watching her from a safe distance like she might throw detergent at him next.

“So he brought her coffee again today,” Yelena muttered, yanking a red string out of her bag.

Bob blinked. “Maybe he just likes… being helpful?”

Yelena turned slowly. “Bob. He called her ‘trouble with a capital hot.’ Out loud.”

“Maybe he has a stroke problem.”

“Why hasn’t her boyfriend punched him in the face yet, then?”

Bob paused. “…Maybe her boyfriend is very understanding.”

Yelena pinned a polaroid of you and Bucky standing a suspicious three inches apart. “Or imaginary.”

Enter: Ava Starr, deadpan, wielding a USB stick like a weapon.

“I’ve uploaded all video footage from the last 72 hours. All instances of ‘Barnes proximity violations.’” She tossed the USB on the dryer. “There are thirty-seven. In public spaces alone.”

Yelena turned and looked Bob directly in the eye.

“She is being stalked.”

Bob immediately began sweating.

Meanwhile…

You were in the weapons room just trying to polish your knives and mind your business.

Bucky Barnes, unfortunately, had made “minding your business” literally impossible.

He leaned against the doorway like a movie poster. “Whatcha doin’?”

You didn’t look up. “Working.”

He walked in. Picked up a blade. Spun it between his fingers like he had a death wish. “Want help?”

You sighed. “I have a boyfriend.”

“And yet,” he said, sidling closer, “you’re always here. Always alone. Always looking like you miss me.”

“James,” you warned.

He placed the knife down.

“You know,” he whispered, lips near your ear, “if you just admitted you wanted me, we could stop pretending.”

You almost stabbed his foot.

Thunderbolts HQ — Conspiracy Room

“Okay,” Bob said nervously. “So—just to confirm—we think she’s in danger… from Bucky?”

“No,” Ava said, dragging a sticky note across the corkboard. “She’s being emotionally manipulated. Gaslit. Possibly ‘slow-burn seduced.’”

“Is that a clinical term?” he asked weakly.

“Sounds hot,” Alexei added from the corner, eating a carrot like a cigar.

Everyone ignored him.

Yelena pulled out a folder labeled “Evidence.” It included:

4 suspicious glances

2 moments where you touched Bucky’s arm (suspiciously long)

A doodle she found in your notebook that she swore was “clearly his jawline”

Bob squinted. “That might just be a… square.”

“Exactly,” Ava muttered. “A squared jaw.”

Bob buried his face in his hands. “You people need a hobby.”

“We have one,” Yelena said. “It’s protecting our teammate from weaponized flirting.”

Mission Debrief, Day 4 of Suspicion

Val entered the room with a tablet and a headache. “Mission went fine. Nobody died. I don’t care what else happened.”

You tried to take notes.

Bucky sat down next to you—too close again—and whispered: “Want to grab dinner after this?”

You didn’t even look at him. “You’re insufferable.”

He smiled. “You love it.”

From across the room, Yelena stared daggers into his skull.

Bob nudged Ava. “Okay. But maybe they are dating.”

“No,” she whispered. “She has a boyfriend.”

“But I heard Bucky call her ‘sunshine incarnate’ while sparring.”

Ava’s expression turned ice-cold. “That’s not flirting. That’s a psychological operation.”

Bob looked like he wanted to fall into a sinkhole.

—

Time Check: Midnight. You and Bucky were curled up in the surveillance room. You were on his lap. His dog tags were hanging loose, and he was telling you a story about 1943 while tracing lazy circles on your thigh.

“We’re going to get caught,” you whispered, half-asleep against him.

“We’ve been almost caught ten times,” he said, cocky. “You think anyone suspects?”

You laughed bitterly. “Yelena has a red-string board. Bob cried the other day. Ava’s three seconds from stabbing you.”

Bucky kissed your cheek. “They’ll get over it.”

“Babe, we’ve been lying for months.”

He just smiled, and pulled you closer.

That Same Night: Laundry Room Conspiracy Intensifies

Bob, Ava, and Yelena met again.

“She smiled at him today,” Bob whispered, haunted.

Yelena slammed down a folder. “She’s in love with him.”

“Or terrified,” Ava added.

“We have to intervene,” Yelena said. “Soon.”

Bob paled. “Shouldn’t we like… verify with her first? Ask gently? In a hallway?”

Ava shook her head. “She’s compromised.”

Yelena stood, dramatic. “I’m giving it three days. If she doesn’t tell us what’s going on, we go in.”

“Like… kick her door down?” Bob squeaked.

“Exactly.”

Alexei passed by, holding a burrito the size of a toddler. “Ooh, are we doing spy stuff again?”

Yelena and Ava shared a look.

“Get your gloves, big guy,” Yelena said.

“I LIVE FOR THIS.”

It all started because John Walker had been watching Ted Lasso.

He paused the episode mid-monologue, sat up straight on the couch, and said aloud to no one:

“We need to talk this out like emotionally mature adults.”

Unfortunately, the people in question were:

You

Bucky “Shameless Menace” Barnes

And a team of emotionally unstable vigilantes who weaponized Google Docs

Still, John had hope.

—

📱 John W. (ThunderDad) created group “Team Check-In 🧠”

John W.:

Hey everyone! Group wellness chat!! :D

Bob :D :

is this about [Y/N] and the “Ben Smith” situation bc i’m already crying

Ava S.:

If we are doing therapy circles I’m bringing a weapon.

Yelena B.:

I made a presentation. It’s called “Faked Love: The Breakdown of Trust.”

Alexei S.:

Is this a meeting where we punch someone? I am bringing gloves.

John W.:

Guys. No. This is about COMMUNICATION.

Bucky B.:

👀

You:

I have literally done nothing wrong ever in my life

Ava:

Tell that to Ben Smith

You:

YOU DON’T EVEN KNOW HIM

Yelena:

Because HE DOES NOT EXIST

John rented out the mission briefing room. He put out granola bars. There were two chairs facing each other. It looked like a low-budget talk show.

You walked in with arms crossed. Bucky followed, looking smug in a black Henley, sleeves rolled up, because of course.

Ava was already in the corner with a tactical folder labeled “Emotional Evidence.” Bob had brought stress balls. Alexei was asleep in the back with sunglasses on. Yelena was eating pickles and judgmentally staring at you both like a mother owl who just discovered her chicks had lied about their homework.

John stood between you like a referee. “Okay! Let’s open the floor. [Y/N]? Bucky? Want to share anything?”

You smiled sweetly. “I’m dating Ben. Nothing’s going on.”

Bucky smirked. “Yeah. I’m just friendly.”

Ava slammed her fist on the table. “You touched her lower back for five consecutive seconds last Tuesday.”

Bucky shrugged. “Stabilizing her stance.”

Yelena threw a flash drive at him. “I HAVE FOOTAGE.”

Halfway through the meeting, Bob pulled out a homemade scrapbook.

The cover read: “Ben & [Y/N]: A Love Imagined”

He sniffled. “I really thought you two would get married one day. I made fan art.”

You blinked. “You what?”

He turned the page. There was a drawing of you in a wedding dress and a faceless man labeled “Ben.”

Another page had a timeline:

Met in a bookstore

Fell in love over spilled coffee

Adopted a dog named Waffles

“He was the man I wanted to be,” Bob whispered.

You stared at Bucky. “This is your fault.”

Bucky looked weirdly proud.

—

Ava’s Official Report

Ava passed out printed reports titled:

“Case Study: Suspicious Intimacy Levels Between Agent [Y/N] and Sergeant Barnes.”

Page 1 included:

Time-stamped videos of “prolonged eye contact”

A list of quotes including:

Bucky: “You always look good when you lie.”

You: “Stop flirting with me.”

Bucky: “Make me.”

A graph labeled ‘Horniness Over Time’ showing a dramatic upward spike

Page 2 was just a blown-up screenshot of Bucky’s hand on your hip.

Ava folded her arms. “This is a betrayal of trust. And basic decency.”

You: “How is it betrayal if I didn’t do anything?”

Ava: “Because you’re bad at lying.”

Yelena: “And you blush every time he touches you.”

Alexei (waking up): “That’s called hormones! Let the children be!”

John: “Alexei, please—”

Alexei: “NO! In Soviet Russia, you hide relationship until death or suspicious pregnancy! This is normal!”

You and Bucky Being the Worst

After the meeting ended in disaster and a mild emotional breakdown (Bob had to be consoled with a cookie), you and Bucky snuck into the weapons bay.

You: “We need to pull back.”

Bucky: “On what? Us? The fun?”

You: “The flirting. They’re unraveling.”

Bucky leaned in, eyes glinting. “Why don’t you tell them?”

You: “Because it’s funny.”

He grinned. “Exactly. And a little hot, right? The whole forbidden thing?”

You shoved him gently. “You’re such a menace.”

He caught your hand, kissed it softly. “You love it.”

You looked away. “I really do.”

Team Chaos Continues

Yelena started building a slideshow titled “Signs Your Friend Is Being Gaslit by a Man with Great Hair.”

Bob was googling support groups for “Emotional Ben-loss.”

Ava began mapping out a military-grade sting operation she called “Operation Truthbomb.”

John, meanwhile, tried to email Val for help and ended up sending her Bob’s fan art by accident.

Val replied with:

“Are you guys okay. Should I send a therapist or a sniper.”

There were few things more terrifying than Yelena Belova in a calm mood.

She didn’t yell. She didn’t slam doors. She simply said:

“Would you like to get pasta with me?”

And when you—foolish, unsuspecting, guilty—said “sure,” she smiled.

Smiled.

That was the trap.

—

You arrived at the Thunderbolts mess hall to find:

A suspiciously clean table

Exactly two chairs

A massive bowl of penne alla vodka

Yelena, already seated, fork in hand, eyes glinting like she was about to read your soul

“Sit,” she said pleasantly.

You sat.

She pushed a bowl toward you. “Eat.”

You blinked. “This is nice…”

“Mhm,” she said, stabbing pasta like it owed her money. “So. Tell me about Ben.”

You choked on a penne.

“Middle name?” Yelena asked.

“…Christopher.”

“Favorite movie?”

“Interstellar.”

She stared. “Wrong. That’s your favorite movie.”

“It’s both our favorites?”

“Convenient.”

She leaned in, elbows on the table.

“Where did you meet?”

You swallowed. “A book fair.”

“Genre?”

“True crime.”

Yelena narrowed her eyes. “Name three books Ben has read.”

Your soul flatlined.

“Uhhh…” you stalled.

Meanwhile—

Bob, whispering into a headset:

“She’s cornered. She’s gonna fold.”

Ava, on the second channel:

“If she says ‘To Kill a Mockingbird’ I swear to god—”

Alexei (not mic’d in, yelling):

“You cannot break her! She is strong! Like Soviet raccoon!”

John (eating a protein bar):

“Are we sure this is legal?”

Bob:

“Ben deserves justice.”

Back to Lunch: You Try Desperately to Lie

You: “Ben… really likes the classics.”

Yelena: “Name one.”

You: “The—uh—Art of War.”

Yelena: “That’s not a novel.”

You: “He… also enjoys poetry?”

Yelena leaned back. Crossed her arms. “You’re lying.”

You sighed. “You’re being dramatic.”

She pointed her fork at you. “You are flirting in front of us every day. You blushed when he held your stapler. You whispered something in his ear and GIGGLED.”

You: “He was making fun of John’s buzzcut.”

Yelena: “So was I, and I didn’t get all swoony about it!”

Just as Yelena opened her mouth to deliver what was definitely the emotional killing blow—

The door burst open.

“Hey,” Bucky panted, shirt slightly untucked, eyes wide. “Emergency. Huge emergency.”

Yelena turned sharply. “What kind of emergency?”

He held up… a small brown ferret. Who was currently chewing on his sleeve.

You blinked. “What the hell—?”

“She got into the armory. She pooped in John’s boot.”

“…What?”

“She’s yours,” Bucky lied smoothly. “She escaped your bag. Remember?”

Yelena looked back and forth. “You own a ferret?”

You nodded, trying not to scream-laugh. “Uh-huh. Rescue ferret. Her name’s… Meryl.”

“Meryl the menace,” Bucky added solemnly. “We need to go. Now.”

You stood up like your life depended on it. “Sorry, Yelena. Gotta—uh—clean up ferret crimes.”

Yelena stared, unblinking, as you fled with Bucky and the mystery creature.

She whispered into her hidden mic: “Abort mission. Target evacuated.”

You both collapsed inside, laughing hysterically.

“Where the hell did you get a ferret?” you gasped.

Bucky grinned, placing Meryl down gently. “Borrowed her from Val’s nephew. She owes me now.”

You were breathless. “We are SO bad at this.”

“We’re incredible at this,” he corrected, flopping onto the couch. “We just survived an international-level interrogation with pasta and a rodent.”

You climbed onto him. “We’re going to get exposed.”

He kissed your shoulder. “Worth it.”

—

Team Breakdown Debrief

Ava, Yelena, Bob, and John all gathered post-failure.

Bob was feeding Meryl tiny cookie crumbs.

“She has a pet ferret,” he whispered. “What kind of woman has a secret boyfriend and a secret rodent?”

Yelena slammed her head on the table. “I was so close.”

Ava glared at the pasta remains. “They’re cocky now. We need a bigger plan.”

John: “Or maybe—hear me out—we just let them date.”

Everyone turned and stared.

John: “What?”

Bob: “She has a BOYFRIEND, JOHN.”

John: “Who we’ve never seen. Or heard. Or… anything. At all.”

Ava: “I’m starting to think Ben Smith is like… Santa. Real in spirit. But fake in logistics.”

Robert ‘Bob’ Reynolds  had officially hit rock bottom.

It was 2:03 a.m., and he was lying awake in bed with a blanket over his head, softly whispering to himself:

“Ben Smith is real. He has to be.”

And when the world offers no answers… Bob becomes the answer.

—

At 2:11 a.m., Bob created a Gmail account: ben.smith.1988@gmail.com

He stared at the blinking cursor, then typed:

“Hi. I’m Ben. I exist. And I am very real.”

Then he cracked his knuckles. And wrote the most emotionally charged, grammatically questionable email of his life.

Bucky was just vibing in the weapons room, sharpening a combat knife while humming Fleetwood Mac, when his Starkpad pinged.

Subject: A Word of Warning From: ben.smith.1988@gmail.com

Hello,

This is Ben.

I know what you’re doing with [Y/N].

Please stop making eyes at my girlfriend. She’s not interested in you. Even though you are muscly and brooding.

Signed,

Ben Smith (her boyfriend)

Bucky blinked.

Then burst out laughing so loud, Meryl the ferret startled and fell off a crate.

You appeared five minutes later.

“What’s so funny?”

He handed you the Starkpad.

You read it. Blinked. Then doubled over, wheezing.

“No. No. He didn’t—”

“He did,” Bucky said, wiping a tear.

You wheezed harder. “He said muscly and brooding.”

Bob, feeling the high of digital justice, forwarded the email to Ava.

Except he forgot to delete the signature at the bottom that said:

Sent from the desk of Bob :D , Assistant Intelligence Analyst

Ava read the email. Then the signature.

Then she stood up so hard her chair hit the wall.

Ava (texting Yelena):

You need to come here NOW Bob has officially lost his entire mind

Yelena:

I’ve been waiting for this day.

Team Emergency Meeting #3 was held in the storage closet because Val kicked them out of the conference room for “excessive dramatics.”

Ava: “Bob. You catfished Bucky. As Ben.”

Bob: “I didn’t catfish! I defended [Y/N]’s honor!”

John: “You used your real name in the email.”

Bob: “I panicked!”

Yelena: “You’re spiraling.”

Alexei: “You are like my cousin Dimitri. He pretended to be own wife to win Facebook argument. Now he is married to himself in three countries.”

Bob: “I JUST WANTED PROOF HE’S REAL.”

Ava: “So you became him?!”

Bob: softly “It felt right.”

Yelena, determined to end this mess, pulled out her phone.

“Fine. If Ben is real, FaceTime him.”

You blinked. “He’s in Canada. No signal.”

“He emailed Bucky from Gmail, he has signal.”

You floundered. “He… doesn’t like video chats?”

“He’s a grown man, not Bigfoot!”

You made a wild grab for your phone to stall, but it was too late.

Yelena hit “FaceTime.”

The screen rang once.

Twice.

Then—someone picked up.

A man appeared.

Early 30s. Flannel shirt. Confused as hell.

“…Hello?”

Yelena blinked. “Is this Ben?”

The man squinted. “Uh. Yeah?”

BOB HAD HIRED A GUY FROM THE PET STORE.

He mouthed frantically behind the screen: “Please help, I’ll Venmo you $20.”

Yelena narrowed her eyes. “What’s [Y/N]’s favorite snack?”

The man panicked. “…Granola bars?”

You gasped. “OH MY GOD HE’S GOOD.”

Yelena nearly screamed.

—

Later that night, Bucky made you reenact the email in a dramatic reading.

You: “She’s not interested in you.”

Bucky, hands on his heart: “Devastating.”

You: “Even though you are muscly and brooding.”

Bucky: “That’s… my Tinder bio now.”

You: “I can’t believe he dragged the pet store guy into this.”

Bucky smirked. “Should we send ‘Ben’ a thank-you basket?”

You kissed his cheek. “We should send Bob therapy.”

—

Bob was sitting alone in his room. Lights off. Hoodie up.

He opened his email again. Drafted another:

“Dear Bucky,

I have reconsidered. You are very handsome.

Please treat her right.

Sincerely,

Ben Smith. Who is now at peace.”

He hit send. Then whispered: “Goodbye, my love.”

Behind him, Meryl crawled onto his lap and squeaked.

There were three certainties in life:

Death

Taxes

Ava Starr’s hyperfixation once she opened Google Slides

It started with a simple title:

"This Is Why [Y/N] Is Lying: A Multimedia Breakdown" By: Ava Starr, Ph.D. (Not really, but emotionally)

Slide 1:

A graph titled “Flirtation Trajectory” It showed a 600% increase in eyebrow raises between Bucky and you since Month 1

Slide 2:

A quote: “No, Bucky, I have a boyfriend.” Followed by Bucky’s reply: “Well, I don’t see him.” Caption: GUILTLESS MENACE BEHAVIOR

Slide 3:

Security cam footage of Bucky tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear With slow-motion and emotional violin music overlayed

Slide 4:

A side-by-side photo comparison of Bob’s fan art of Ben Smith vs. the fake pet store guy Caption: THE LIES RUN DEEP

Fueled by the presentation and six espresso shots, Yelena initiated her next plan:

“Operation: Ransack Room (For Justice)”

John: “Maybe we should ask for consent—”

Yelena: “NO TIME.”

She broke into your room with a lock pick, flashlight, and an unhealthy amount of emotional vengeance.

Bob followed, muttering: “He probably smells like cedar and betrayal.”

Inside, they found:

A toothbrush (unlabeled)

A hoodie that was very much not yours (gray, smells like pine soap and sin)

Two mugs. One said “Bucky.” The other said “Still not Ben.”

Yelena held up the hoodie. “This is proof.”

Bob sniffed it. Immediately burst into tears.

Back at the gym, you and Bucky were in full gremlin mode.

You: “Okay, today I’ll dramatically drop my phone and Bucky will catch it midair and call me sweetheart.”

Bucky: “And I’ll give you my water bottle after a workout like it’s a rom-com.”

You: “They’ll combust.”

Bucky: “They deserve it.”

You pulled him into a corner, giggling. “God, we’re awful.”

He pressed his forehead to yours. “Awfully good at this.”

Bob, emotionally hanging on by one last ferret thread, received a voicemail while hiding behind a ficus.

Voicemail from Unknown Number:

“Hey. This is Ben. Just wanted to say… I know you’ve been looking out for her. That’s cool. But I’ve got it from here. You can let go now, buddy.”

Bob stared at his phone.

Yelena: “Are you okay?”

Bob: whispers “He sounds perfect.”

Ava, from behind a laptop: “This is psychological warfare.”

John: “Honestly, I’m kind of rooting for them now?”

Ava: “TRAITOR.”

Yelena finally snapped when Bucky handed you a protein bar mid-mission and you said:

“Aww. Just how I like it—nutty and a little intense.”

Ava SCREAMED into a pillow.

Bob started writing Ben fanfiction to cope.

Yelena stood up, eyes wild. “NO. I am DONE. We’re confronting her. NOW.”

John: “Should we call Val—”

Yelena: “NO TIME FOR RULES.”

There are many ways to go down in history. Some people discover cures. Some climb Everest. Some invent time travel.

Yelena Belova kicks down doors at 6:02 p.m. on a Wednesday.

And that… is how legends are born.

Yelena didn’t knock.

Ava didn’t hesitate.

John didn’t breathe.

Bob was holding a foam baseball bat labeled “Justice.”

They were ready.

This was it.

This was the confrontation.

Yelena: “[Y/N]! We need to—”

But she stopped.

Because…

Your hands were in Bucky’s hair. Your legs were around his waist. His shirt was somewhere on the floor. He was kissing you like the world was ending.

And you were definitely kissing him back.

Ava: Absolutely SCREECHES like a crow discovering Wi-Fi. Throws her arms up and yells, “I KNEW IT. I KNEW IT!” Points at Bucky like she just caught her boyfriend cheating on Jeopardy.

Yelena: Full Russian betrayal. Hands on hips. Squinting like you personally stabbed her. Shouts, “YOU HOME-WRECKING ENIGMA.”

Bob: GASPS. Clutches chest. Drops his foam bat. Falls to his knees. Meryl the ferret dramatically leaps out of his pocket like it, too, has been emotionally compromised.

John Walker: Mouth wide open. Whispers, “Bro… seriously?” like he just watched his buddy kiss his ex on live TV.

Alexei (from hallway with popcorn): “GET ‘EM, BUCKY! YOU DOG!” Everyone screams at him to SHUT UP.

You and Bucky pull apart mid-kiss, lips swollen, hair mussed.

You: “Okay, wait, I can explain—”

Bob: “YOU HAVE A BOYFRIEND!”

You: “I—”

Ava: “BEN SMITH DESERVES BETTER.”

You: “There IS NO BEN—”

Yelena: “LIAR. I MET HIM ON FACETIME.”

You: “THAT WAS A PET STORE EMPLOYEE BOB PAID $20—”

John: “Wait, what?”

Bob: “He had kind eyes…”

Bucky (still shirtless, smug): “She’s my girlfriend. Has been. For like, months.”

Dead silence.

You: “I told you I had a boyfriend—”

Yelena: “You didn’t say it was HIM!”

You: “I didn’t think I needed to clarify!”

Ava: “But—he flirts with you like he has NO morals!”

Bucky: “I do it to mess with you.”

Alexei (from the couch): “Ahahaha! He’s trolling you! Like the meme goblin!”

Bob (devastated): “...So Ben Smith… was never real?”

You gently shake your head.

Bob curls up on the floor.

Meryl sits on his chest like a mourning widow.

Ava sits on your floor with her head in her hands. “You let us think you were cheating on Ben Smith.”

You sit next to her. “You made up Ben Smith.”

She pauses. “Okay, yes. But still.”

Yelena paces the room. “You mean to tell me we went through eight levels of emotional breakdowns—PowerPoints, voicemails, hoodie sniffing—for nothing?!”

Bucky raises an eyebrow. “Wait. Hoodie sniffing?”

John deadpans, “Bob did it. Not me.”

Bob mumbles from the floor, “I just needed a sense of closure.”

You: “We didn’t mean to hide it to hurt you guys. We just liked having something for ourselves. A secret. In this chaos.”

Bucky: “And it was fun watching you all spiral.”

Yelena: “I feel… so stupid.”

You: “You made a literal CIA board in the kitchen. With red string.”

Ava: “…We still have it up. It’s titled ‘Operation Homewrecker.’”

Bob: “I wrote poems.”

John: “I didn’t do anything. Can I have a cookie?”

Alexei walks in and hands him one. No one questions it.

Yelena drinks an entire bottle of sparkling water angrily.

Ava mutters “homewrecker” under her breath like it’s a religious chant.

Bob makes a new mug that says “Justice For Ben.”

John eats four more cookies and watches everyone lose it like he’s at a zoo.

Alexei wants to re-enact the moment as a play. Nobody allows this.

You and Bucky just sit on the couch, holding hands, smugly.

—

BONUS LITTLE ADDITION !!

It begins with a single whisper. From the depths of the mission van, Bob mutters:

“I think… I think they broke up.”

You and Bucky had been too quiet lately. No stolen kisses. No obnoxious flirting. No shared water bottles or smirking hand-holds.

Instead? Cold. Distant. Professional.

Yelena immediately noticed.

Ava made a new slide deck titled “The Decline of Love: A Relationship Post-Mortem”

John called Val to ask if he should “send a card or something.”

Bob cried.

Meryl wore a black ribbon.

Mission: Accomplished.

Bucky played it up like a telenovela.

He sat in the corner of the Quinjet with a far-off stare, dramatically whispering things like:

“Love is a battlefield… and I lost.”

“She’s happier without me. I must let her fly.”

“I saw her smile at the microwave this morning. She’s moved on.”

You?

You sighed wistfully at your phone. Typed random things like:

“Sometimes people grow apart.” “Maybe we were too intense.” “He never liked oatmeal anyway.”

You even teared up ON PURPOSE when Alexei asked if you wanted his extra soup dumpling.

Bob passed you a tissue. “Ben would’ve never let this happen.”

You didn’t correct him.

Eventually, the team couldn’t take it.

Yelena cornered you in the kitchen, eyes blazing. “YOU CAN’T LET LOVE DIE LIKE THIS.”

Ava stood behind her holding a literal pamphlet titled: “Getting Back Your Ex: A Thunderbolts Guide to Love and Vengeance”

Bob was already mid-sob, curled in Meryl’s tiny ferret hammock.

John showed up with a Spotify playlist called “Sad But Hot.”

You tried not to laugh. Bucky was upstairs texting you:

"Bob just slipped me a note that says 'you deserve happiness.'"

You:

"Ava just offered me her VPN so I can stalk your socials without judgment."

Bucky:

"I miss us 😔💔"

You:

"Meet me in 5. Closet. Let’s kiss dramatically again."

—

Yelena and Ava followed you.

John and Bob snuck behind them. (John held Meryl like a tiny emotional support therapist.)

They rounded the corner…

...and caught you.

AGAIN.

Bucky had you pinned to the closet wall, hands on your hips, your mouth on his, laughing mid-kiss.

You both froze like two kids caught sneaking cookies.

Yelena: “ARE YOU—AGAIN!?!?”

Ava: “SO THE BREAKUP—”

You: “FAKE.”

Bucky: “Flawless.”

Bob: aggressively gasps “YOU PLAYED US?!”

John: (quietly, with awe) “They’re menaces.”

The team, fully betrayed a second time in less than a week, sat in the kitchen like war veterans.

Yelena chugged an energy drink with tears in her eyes.

Ava deleted the breakup slide deck and replaced it with one titled: “Love Is Dead: AND SO IS MY TRUST.”

Bob threw the “Welcome Back Ben” balloon out the window.

Meryl chewed through the ribbon on it first.

John updated the team Spotify to include “Lovers Lying (Acoustic Version).”

You and Bucky? Cackling in your shared room, wrapped in blankets and each other.

Bucky: “We’re terrible people.”

You: “Terrible, hot, deeply in love people.”

He kisses your nose. “We should fake break up again next week.”

You laugh. “I’ll cry in front of Bob this time. Really sell it.”

Outside the door, Bob drops a mug that says “Teamwork Makes the Dream Hurt.”

He runs.

Meryl follows.

Bucky raises an eyebrow. “Should we stop?”

You shake your head. “Never.”

(You've got mail!) AAAAAAAAAAA.

Tags @bbsbrina

[tagarilaghost]

After Pmd:Eos Postgame Darkrai thinks he's smart and goes for his darkness shenanigans again. Only to get captured for good this time.

Can you guess where he is :D?

The following comic reveals it nontheless, but not the exact location.

Imagine you swim all this way just for Mister Darkness to throw a tantrum.

[noobiestnoober]

Last Minute Leon (Leon X Reader)

When it comes to love, some people write poems. You? You dive headfirst into bioweapon-infested nightmares just to see if Leon S. Kennedy will show up with his signature smirk and a terrible pun. In this hilariously chaotic comedy/crack one-shot, you keep testing fate—and Leon’s patience—by staging the dumbest, most dangerous stunts imaginable. Will he always come to the rescue? Can one survive love and Umbrella’s traps at the same time? With flying kicks, fake kidnappings, and sushi plans on the line, one thing’s for sure: it’s never just another day with you.

There were a lot of things you could say about yourself. Bold. Daring. Maybe even slightly unhinged, depending on who you asked. But above all else, you were consistent—consistently putting yourself in the most absurdly dangerous situations just to see if Leon would actually show up every time like some gun-toting, government-issued Disney prince with an arsenal and perfectly timed slow-motion entrances. Today? Oh, today was no different.

You dangled upside down from a rope trap—again—in the middle of what looked like a half-collapsed, Umbrella-owned abandoned science lab. The place was straight out of a post-apocalyptic fever dream: flickering lights, ominous sirens, and several suspiciously intact glass tubes filled with questionable goo. Because of course it was.

"Note to self," you muttered aloud, blood rushing to your head as a loose wrench clanged to the floor. "Next time, skip Reddit threads titled '10 Toxic Ways to Test His Love.'"

From somewhere deep in the facility, you heard the click of tactical boots, followed by the unmistakable swoosh of a door being kicked open. Leon S. Kennedy stormed in like a leading man who showed up late but insisted it was all part of the act.

Wind—there was always wind when Leon arrived, somehow—blew in dramatically, tousling his hair like he was auditioning for a shampoo commercial.

"Heard you were in a bit of a bind," he announced with a smirk that could probably be weaponized.

You groaned. "That pun hurt more than the rope burn."

With one smooth motion, he unsheathed his knife and cut the rope like it was warm butter. You landed on the ground with an unceremonious grunt, arms flailing.

"You alright?" he asked, arching an eyebrow, clearly used to this by now.

You dusted yourself off and gave a casual thumbs up. "Physically? Mostly. Mentally? I've had healthier coping mechanisms."

This wasn’t even the first incident this week. On Tuesday, you infiltrated a Plaga-infested chicken coop wearing feathers strapped to your back because, quote, “Leon needs to witness me in my avian prime.” On Thursday, you sold your own location to a black-market merchant under the condition that he reenact a hostage scenario—complete with rope, duct tape, and fake demands. Leon showed up with two pistols and one-liner energy to spare.

"You know, there are easier ways to get my attention," he said now, sliding a flash grenade into his jacket pocket purely for dramatic effect.

You gave him a deadpan stare. "Yeah, but where’s the fun in not risking tetanus every time I flirt with you?"

He blinked. Once. Twice. Then gave that tired little smile—the one that screamed, “I should report you to HR but I’d probably follow you into a volcano first.”

You scooped up your slightly-burnt backpack and peeked through a cracked window.

"So… sushi after this?"

Leon tilted his head. "You just got nearly decapitated by a ceiling saw blade."

"Exactly," you said. "Nothing says ‘date night’ like dodging death and then drowning our trauma in soy sauce."

He sighed and checked his ammo. "Fine. But if I have to dive across a sushi conveyor belt to tackle a guy in a hazmat suit again, I swear I’m charging you hazard pay."

You saluted him with two fingers and a wink. "Deal. And I’ll even throw in a free wasabi dare. Bonus points if you don't cry."

As you both headed down yet another hallway littered with debris, flickering lights, and probably radioactive vending machines, you mentally mapped out your next big stunt. Helicopter ride. No doors. Just vibes. And maybe a flying kick for good measure. And, if he was lucky, you’d let him make another cheesy one-liner.

[filialdisciple]

a stressed out, old man firelord zuko time travels and ends up back in ba sing se during his tea shop days.

Zuko: Ah, finally, some peace...

iroh is quick to figure out that zuko is not the same zuko as yesterday. he's torn between being thankful—relieved, really—that zuko grew up as wonderfully as he did and worried about the current whereabouts of his actual nephew. Zuko waves away his worries, saying that he's likely in the future and there's nothing you need to worry about, Uncle, my daughter will take care of him.

((Iroh: A reliable granddaughter? How delightful🥰))

Zuko's tea making skills have only improved over time. After his Uncle's passing in the future, he had taken it up as a passing hobby in his honor.

Zuko, freeing Appa: There you go, Appa. *sighs despondently* I miss Druk.

Appa perks up and licks Zuko and nudges at him familiarly.

"No way."

%%%

Zuko bumps into the Gaang while he delivers tea to the Upper Ring. They are immediately tense. Momo chitters excitedly and flies around Zuko before comfortably perching on his shoulder.

"Huh. I guess you talked to Appa."

"Anyway, goodbye, Gaang."

"...did Zuko just kidnap Momo?"

[rainforestakiie]

Adam: Because I am an OMEGA! DUH! They both were Omegas too! What did you think would happen when the first three humans were fucking Omegas?!

Lucifer: ...

Adam: ...

Lucifer: ...wait...

Adam: Shouldn't have said that.

Lucifer: All this fucking time, you were an Omega?!

Adam: ...surprise?

Lucifer: No surprise, Adam! Why didn't you say anything?!

Adam: What was I suppose to say?! Hey guys, I'm struggling to have sex with you because I want to be a fucking pillow princess?! Yeah, that would have ended well!

Lucifer: It would have ended much better then you think!

Adam: What's that supposed to mean?

Lucifer: Adam! I'm an Alpha!

Adam: O...kay?

Lucifer: Holy shit, Adam! Come on, we had SO MUCH sexural tension back then! We definitely would have had something going on! The only reason I didn't purse you was because I thought you were an ALPHA TOO!

Adam: ...are....are you butt hurt over this?

Lucifer: A little bit. Not gonna lie. I need a moment.

Adam: ....

[zukkaturtleduck]

Been thinking about this a lot

While Zuko’s motivation to help Katara find her mom’s murder might be to be besties with her, I think there’s a huge version of him that was crazy excited to be a vigilante again 😂

Zuko is literally Batman and he’s just been waiting for an excuse to wear black and go on a mission to beat up a bad guy

[patolemus]

AU where Stiles and Derek are both in high school and they have this long standing rivalry that started years ago back when they were still in elementary school and they hate each other, absolutely despise each other. Do they remember why? Not really, but they do know they must beat the other at all costs.

Derek is captain of the basketball team and Stiles does track. They both have trophies and awards, Derek has won the state championship ever since he started playing, and Stiles gets gold or silver in all of his events during competitions. Their GPA is exactly the same, Stiles is a History genius and Derek always aces English. They both suck at Chemistry, and they hate Harris. It's the only thing they ever agree on.

The only other highlight of their high school career besides their epic and everlasting hate-hate relationship is the anonymous person they've been talking to through annotated books.

Stiles blames his impulsiveness, because one day in freshman year he picked up a book full of little notes in the margin of the pages in the library and decided to answer all of them with his own little insights. Somehow he ends up having entire conversations made in intervals of a few days, in the form of words written on paper.

Derek? Well, he likes to annotate books and have mini conversations with himself, and he uses a pencil to write them, it’s not like he’s permanently damaging school property or anything! He starts caring less and less about that, though, when someone starts leaving answers to his annotations, much more invested on the conversations than on the preservation of school property.

Now, years later, about eighty percent of the library's books contain little messages and full blown conversations between two complete strangers. Stiles and Derek are about to graduate, and neither of them knows who this other person is. Which is a tragedy because they're pretty sure this mysterious person is the love of their life.

Spoiler alert: they're right.

[schrijverr]

Buck would devolve into calling Eddie Theodorious Maximus and you simply cannot change my mind about that. Like he'd go from calling Eddie, Teddie ("that's not my name, Buck"), to Teddious, to Theodore, to Theodorious to adding the Maximus ("because, Diaz, it adds gravitas, this is me long naming you."), do you all see the vision?

[louiseolivier]

Fic Idea

Post 8x05

Bobby's acting strangely—not overtly, but just enough that everyone is side-eyeing each other. Buck decides to hang back after his shift one morning and catches Bobby still in his office. He asks him what's up, and Bobby admits that even though Gerrard is gone, that doesn't mean the budget cuts also went away. The good news is that with union pushback, instead of firing someone, they've agreed to rotating month-long furloughs, effective Nov 1st.

Buck immediately volunteers for A shift. He'll do Nov and Dec. Bobby says he can't let Buck sacrifice that much of his paycheck. Buck tells him he's got enough stocked away for a couple of months and that he wants to do this. It might even be good for him.

The first month is really good. Tommy works 48/96, so they get four full days off together and it's amazing. They had a mini vacation in Palm Springs where they went stargazing, hung out by the pool, and spent a day in Joshua Tree.

Buck gets in a lot of reading and knocks down his sizable tbr. He fills in as a sitter for Jee-Yun and enjoys the hell out of spending time with his niece (never mind her deep disappoint on the days Tommy isn't there too). He also gives himself a full day of doing nothing but scrolling his phone. He jumps from one Wikipedia article to another and explores exceedingly niche substacks.

And he still gets 118 time. At least once a week he goes in and cooks a filling lunch for them. He does it at the 217 too, where they sing his praises. He even spent two days being a firefighter when Chim came down with a cold. All in all his month off was pretty amazing, and he figures December would be a piece of cake. He's so sure that he tells Bobby he'll take January too.

Except it stops being a piece of cake. Two days in and he's already restless. It doesn't help when Tommy, Chim, and Eddie show up and tell him how they worked together for a rooftop rescue at Nakatomi Tower. Buck doesn't know the building and asks where it's located. The guys are dumbfounded. "Like, Die Hard, man," Eddie tells him. "Come out to the coast, we'll get together, have a few laughs?" Tommy says hopefully. "Die Hard...Yippee-ki-yay, motherfucker?" Chimney prods. "Oh, yeah," Buck says, having it all click together.

After that his aimlessness really takes hold. He keeps himself busy by feeding the 217 breakfast, lunch, and dinner on the days Tommy works. On his second day, one of Tommy's crew tells him, "You know, you should start taking orders. Make some money since they won't let you fight fires.

Buck's surprised at how fast the idea takes hold. He spends all four of his days with Tommy talking about it. He feels like he's vibrating out of his skin, and he falls just a little more in love with Tommy when he tells Buck that his idea is not only good, but that he knows a guy who can help make it happen.

Buck next goes to his team and explains his idea. He's going to open a sandwich service. Nearby fire stations will send in orders the day before, the sandwiches will be made the next morning, and delivered throughout the afternoon. Tommy has a friend who will rent out commercial kitchen space to him, and the employees will be fellow furloughed firefighters. They wouldn't be making the same pay, but they would be making something instead of draining out their savings like Buck. Eddie's all in, but Hen and Chim are a little more hesitant. Whether they come around or not, that's okay. Buck plans on starting small and thinks he can do it with three or four people, and he has multiple firehouses to pull from. But he knows his biggest hurdle is coming up with the start-up cash.

He toys with the idea of asking his parents for a loan. They were willing to fork over money for Chim and Maddie's down payment, and they swear up and down they want to make amends, so if Buck needs to use guilt to get a cut, he will. Before he can work up the nerve to ask, Tommy hands him a card and calls it an early Christmas present. Inside is a check for 10k. Buck's floored and misty eyed. He asks how and why and are you sure? Tommy pulls him in and tells Buck that he's sure. That he believes in Buck and wants to do whatever he can to help him succeed. Including making sandwiches.

And that's it. That's all I've got. Purged from the system.

[bellobambino]

who are you when im not looking

i doubt you even know yourself

despite those lies that took me

when im not looking

you are someone else

[wow-an-unfunny-joke]

If I wrote a time travel au (Jon and Martin go back in time to first season archives after 200) where because of future intervention there’s a lot less trauma, and with less horrors to worry about past Jon begins to question his gender and starts experimenting with it- and it freaks future Jon out because ‘what tf do you mean I’m trans and never figured it out because Trauma????’

Would anyone read it?

[kindaasrikal]

There should be two version of ninjago fanfics that should be popular,

Kai and Nya first meeting the ninja and the og three trying to bond with them

And TIME TRAVEL FICS GUYS PLS PLS I NEED THESE MORE

There obviously time travel fics in the way the ninja go back to meet only the previous masters of their elements, including Wu and Garmadon from before.

Maybe its like a weird time travel situation where they keep jumping around in the past, but somehow they also end up going further back to meet mini Morro and an even younger Wu.

Imagine them going back far enough to meet the first ever elemental masters?

[marshmallowwitharubberband]

Another horrible, terrible, no good SVSSS fic idea:

Cumplane find out there is a new transmigrator in the PIDW universe. But turns out this new guy is the type of person who would unironically enjoy a stallion novel and is now trying to live his own isekai harem fantasy. To make matters worse, he THINKS he reincarnated as the protagonist but he's actually just a generic pretty guy NPC. The problem is, with his stupid antics he keeps coming too close to revealing the existence of transmigration and neither Cucumber bro or Airplane bro are ready to lift the masquerade. Even worse, his idiotic actions are pushing the universe into the unreadable trash it was, but yaoified. The newcomer does not realize all the wife plots he keeps trying to trigger with no success are happening to random guys instead.

Now Cucumber bro and Airplane bro must stop him before he ruins everything.