#heroic leap

[rad-roche]

this is the plot of death shroud

[butleroftoast]

The beautiful moment in BG3 multiplayer when my teammates assumed picking up the bombs Yurgir scatters deactivates them and gives you free ammunition

It does not

My guys crammed twenty live grenades into their pockets and then wondered why we TPK'd after all the enemies were already dead

I laughed so hard I was sobbing

[metalfeather]

This is sappy and dumb af but going from being so painfully shy to a point where I tended to avoid social interactions in games to doing progression content in voice chat and socializing?

Love to see the character development

[magnusmodig]

questions for characters / @brokeassgoing / accepting !

╰┈➤ gimmie thor's fave toy as a child besides his baby bro

||. absolutely all of the various possible weapons that are in the Einherjar barracks. And the Vault. ...It didn't matter to Thor whether they were for training, or the real deal, Thor would find the weapons absolutely INCREDIBLE and want to master them himself. ESPECIALLY the swords, axes, and hammers.

Contrary to most popular depictions, though, I don't think that Thor would have been innately drawn to Mjolnir. At least, not enough to attempt to lift it. (People often forget, too, that Mjolnir was only enchanted to be unable to lift after Odin banished Thor. Prior to that moment in 2011, Thor would've been able to lift the hammer, for all we know.) I think he would marvel at it, and find its history - or rather, its apparent lack of history - to be utterly fascinating to him. And thus it would compel him to learn more about urdu and Nidavellir and King Eitri of the Dwarves. Eventually it became the weapon gifted to him as Crown Prince of Asgard, but before then he had his trusty asgardian-forged axe, Jarnbjorn.

I think besides play weapons, he might have indulged in some small toys like the magnetic propulsion ball or perhaps a top, alongside various other small toys that are hands-on in application. But other than that, I don't think Thor would have played with toys so much as engaging himself with Loki's company, and their active imaginations. After all, a palace has a great many halls to explore, and hidden rooms and long corridors, and great lush gardens that come especially alive during Thor's rains. Secret passageways and hundreds of ways to escape their nannies, tutors and parents absolutely outweigh any toy. ALTHOUGH playing pretend and reenacting stories that Frigga told, or read from books comes as a close third.

[ghoulodont]

i think in world of warcraft rain would be a healer and the type of healer to be complaining about dps doing dumb shit and saying like i dont care if you go get yourself killed from preventable damage but actually he heals them every time anyway. maybe druid because he wants to turn into a kittycat even though he would realistically be much happier as a class with fewer hots and more big heals. he makes dew do recruit a friend and be a tank for him so they can queue together which dew likes at first because he wants to hit things but actually hes not good at tanking because he doesnt know his limits and pulls too big and doesnt use his mitigations. rain carries him around in travel form

[reasonsforhope]

"An endangered bird famous for its elaborate leaping courtship displays is being reared in a special facility where the animals are able to develop their wild instincts.

With less than 600 individuals left in the wilds of Cambodia, conservationists have shown that the Bengal florican can successfully grow up in semi-captivity, raising hope that a safe and stable population can be reintroduced to prevent further declines.

A large facility inside the 144 square miles of forest comprising Phnom Kulen National Park is the world’s first assurance colony of this florican’s Indo-Chinese subspecies. As the name implies, it’s native to Bangladesh and India, where it is also endangered.

Amid waist-high grass, soft mesh netting divides areas for these members of the bustard family to grow up in seclusion. Minimal visual contact with their keepers ensures that these birds have room to practice all the important skills they’ll need for wild living—like foraging, keeping a lookout for predators, but most importantly for a florican, how to find a mate.

All species of floricans look to dazzle prospective mates with a remarkable courtship display. Standing in high grass, they will leap between 6 and 9 feet off the ground whilst striking a heroic pose that involves tucking their legs up and leaning back.

Hardly flightless, their goal isn’t to take to the wing, but to stay airborne enough to attract the attention of a female, before falling back to the ground and disappearing among the grasses.

Unfortunately, these birds need grasslands to live in, but grasslands in their native range are rapidly being turned into agricultural land by a developing South Asian population.

Leaping into action

The Angkor Centre for Conservation of Biodiversity (ACCB) established the captive colony in 2019. Cambodia has a high degree of threatened biodiversity, with over 400 species listed as Endangered or Vulnerable on the IUCN Red List, and 56 considered Critically Endangered.

The Bengal florican is just one of 30 such species held at the ACCB for future protection. The florican has just one remaining wild population of fewer than 600 individuals among the Tonle Sap Floodplains.

Conservationists from the ACCB work mainly to educate community members, especially Buddhist communities and students, about the plight of these ground-nesting birds.

“By engaging with diverse groups, we hope to bridge the conservation gap across generations,” Christel Griffioen, ACCB’s Country Director, told the IUCN.

These connections with the community have proved vital to the ACCB’s work. During the florican breeding season, the ACCB is notified where and when a wild florican nest is located. Depending on the timing in the season and the placement of the nest, ACCB biologists may choose to leave the eggs alone, but if the conditions aren’t optimal for chick mortality, they will safeguard the eggs, hatch them in their facility, and rear the birds in captivity for eventual reintroduction into the wild.

So far, the 11 surviving birds hatched at ACCB from eggs laid in the wild, along with four wild-hatched birds that have been taken in for one reason or another, are living and developing well.

“A full-time team at ACCB is dedicated to hand-rearing newly hatched chicks until they’re old enough to feed alone. They’re then moved into a facility that mimics their habitat where they remain, with limited to no human contact, safely cocooned in taller grass and soft ceilings that allow the males to practice their mating display,” writes the IUCN, noting that Christel and her team are always trying to transfer what they know about these birds in the wild to their conditions at the facility.

The conservationists hope to form a captive breeding program to further stabilize the animal’s numbers."

-via World at Large, January 10, 2025

[superbat-love]

Clark was covering a Wayne Enterprises press conference, blending seamlessly into the crowd of journalists, when his super-hearing caught the unmistakable whistle of a bullet cutting through the air. Instinct took over. In an instant, he surged forward, leaping onto the stage and wrapping Bruce in a protective embrace just as the bullet ricocheted harmlessly off his back.

It wasn’t until the chaos subsided that Clark registered the stunned silence of the crowd—and the calm words Bruce had spoken just before Clark had shielded him:

“...which is why Veronica and I have mutually decided to end our relationship. I am, however, seeing someone else.”

Clark froze, his brain struggling to process the situation as thousands of camera flashes exploded around them. The scene of Clark hugging Bruce Wayne on stage became an instant media sensation.

By the next morning, every headline screamed about Bruce Wayne “coming out” with his supposed new lover, complete with incriminating photos of the embrace. Tabloids speculated endlessly about the mysterious man who had swept Gotham’s most eligible billionaire off his feet.

Meanwhile, Bruce found himself forced to rethink his carefully constructed plan. The fake lover he had intended to reveal to the press was now irrelevant, thanks to Clark’s impromptu heroics. Adjusting his strategy, Bruce leaned back in his chair, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips as he read the morning news.

“Well,” he muttered to himself, “I suppose this will be... interesting.”

[gay-dorito-dust]

Would you be willing to write a Miguel x Spider!Reader oneshot where they’re arguing over something the reader did on a mission. And in the heat of an argument, Miguel yells “Because I love you!” at the perfectly wrong time, revealing why he cares about the reader’s safety.

‘What the hell was that back there. You could’ve jeopardised the whole mission with that reckless stunt you pulled back there!’ Miguel barked, ripping off mask the first moment moment he could; Hellfire were setting ablaze to his beautiful scarlet eyes that were zeroed in on you as the anger, the frustration upon his face became prominent the more he closed the distance between you.

‘When will you let this go, Miguel. When we became Spider-Man we knew the risks that we were running with-‘ ‘so you thought it’d be better to take a running head start by taking the leap and then diving headfirst into them?!’ Miguel cuts you off and with an indignant huff he adds, ‘you don’t get extra points for being reckless, this isn’t some little game that you can just come back to when you feel like it. No, what we do is a full time commitment with no room for last minute deviations just because you were feeling more heroic.’

You grit your teeth. You respected Miguel, you truly did and at one point in time you wanted to do right by his little rule book of how to be a great hero. However you soon learned that it’s better to play by your own rules rather then it was to play by those made by others and slowly but surly found a method that worked for you. For no two methods were the same when it came to protecting and saving people but if they both end in the same conclusion, then no one should be able to raise an issue with it. At the end of the day you and Miguel saved people from a much bigger problem if left unchecked; so why was it that all of a sudden he had an issue with your methods?

It never upset him this much before, so why now. Did he think you as incapable? As unreliable? As untrustworthy to fully let you handle a situation on your own? Whatever it was it only proved in pissing you off despite your semi-injured state; you didn’t care that you’ve gotten hurt, you’ve gotten hurt plenty of times before and he never once batted an eye or exemplified his emotions as he did as of right now. You could barely get a read on the guy as he stood mere feet away, chest heaving even though he wasn’t out of breath, eyes wide and his hair slightly disheveled from the way he had torn off his mask earlier.

And yet you couldn’t help but find him beautiful in his anger, for it was like witnessing the makings of a Greek tragedy; beautifully written, yet so heartbreakingly tragic.

‘Why does it matter?’ You spat, getting up, despite your injured leg’s desire to buckle beneath the weight of not only you but the situation at hand. You saw the briefest movements of Miguel’s arms almost stretch out to instinctively catch you but stopping midway through the motion before going slack at his sides once more; as though remembering why he was mad at you in the first place. ‘It never mattered before, so why does it matter now? You don’t hound the others for doing it so why is it me that’s getting shit on for doing the same when I ain’t the first to do so!’

‘Because I love you!’ Miguel exclaimed.

The silence afterwards was almost deafening. Miguel’s outburst quieted you quickly as a thousand and one thoughts raced in your head; how long? why now? Was this merely a ruse to silence you so he could badger on at you for your supposed mistake? You didn’t know what to make of anything anymore now that he said that. You didn’t want to believe it for starters on the basis that not once had he ever shown interest in you, if anything he made it apparent to push you away or avoid you entirely from any and all interaction, and even when he did it was comprised of short responses that left the attempts at conversation to die as an overwhelming awkwardness forced you into leaving him be.

‘What?’

‘I love you.’ Miguel repeated, softer this time.

‘I get that but why-‘ ‘haven’t I shown it until now? As stupid as it sounds but I didn’t want you to get hurt because of me and look where you are,’ he gestured to your injured state, ‘hurt because of me.’ He adds defeatedly. You were about to open your mouth when Miguel raised a hand, indicating that he wasn’t finished, ‘I know I haven’t given you any reason to believe me when I say that I love you. I avoid you like the plague and I push you away whenever I see you starting to get too close and respond in a clipped tone of voice so that you’d loose interest and move on to talk to someone else.’

He stopped talking to move in closer to you, grasping you by arms with a firm grip as all the anger in his face seemingly having been melted away. The raging hellfire that once consumed his scarlet eyes in their entirety had been diminished to that of dying ambers, unveiling his admiration, his worry, his guilt and most importantly, his love; the sneer now long gone was replaced by a softer more tender expression that didn’t hide away the worry lines that were deeply etched into his skin. ‘I don’t deserve you, I’m not worth having you because sooner or later you’ll see me the way I’ve always seen myself and I’d rather you be as far away as possible when that happens.’ Miguel said, making sure he was maintaining eye contact with you the entire time to prove that he was being wholeheartedly genuine, not wanting to lie to you about something as personal as his feelings; He’s done that for long enough, Miguel knew his breaking point was upon the incline and seeing you act the way you did during the mission only fast forward it.

‘Yet for some inexplicable reason I can’t stop myself for wanting to protect you, to make sure you’re safe, to make sure that you never come to harm. At first I thought it was because I was looking out for a teammate, making sure you didn’t slip up and cause more potential problems for the rest of us, making sure that you didn’t let a single perpetrator slip but soon I learnt it was far more then just simply looking after a teammate...’ Miguel paused to blink away the images regarding of the nightmares he’d get concerning you, which were few and far between but those times were enough to suffocate him with fear. ‘It was something more and I grew scared, I grew scared because I know what it’s like to loose it all but for some reason I also knew that loosing you would just be the nail in the coffin for me.’

Miguel admits as he presses his forehead against your own, his hands trailing from up your arms until they’re caressing the skin of either side of your neck between calloused thumbs. He closing his eyes and allows himself to breath you in, reminding himself that you were here and that he managed to get to you before anything else could, that he kept you safe, not from all harm but at least from some of it and that was good enough but he knew deep down that he needed the do better. ‘Don’t make me imagine a life without you,’ he whispers, pressing his forehead against yours just that tiny bit harder as his fingertips found their home where your pulse points were to remind him that you weren’t gone completely from his grasp, ‘for I don’t think I’m strong enough to withstand that reality.’

‘You don’t have to.’ You told him softly, lifting your hands to caresses the skin of his cheeks and feeling him effectively melt within your hold. ‘Not anymore.’

[but-a-humble-goon]

Dick: Anyone got any inspirational words to share before we all go leaping once more into the jaws of almost certain death? Cass: Yeah. If one of you tries for a heroic sacrifice I will save you then I will hurt you. Badly. Everyone: ... Steph: Go team.

[smokestarrules]

there’s a really interesting phenomenon going on that I've seen mostly on twitter in which people are pretending The Last Jedi and the other Sequel movies is and was always good, actually.

it seems to me as if there's a new consensus that the people who did and still do dislike that movie are those mad about Rey being a woman, Finn being a black man, etc, and while I'm a thousand-percent sure that's true, that some people hate that movie for stupid and bigoted reasons, it doesn't change the fact that The Last Jedi (and truly, the entire Sequel Trilogy) is just flat-out a bad movie.

All three of those films suffer hugely because all three are fundamentally different at a ground level. They are inherently disconnected in a way that a trilogy should not be, leaping from idea to idea that the next film inevitably squanders. There is no consistent storyline other than 'First Empire Bad'; there is barely any buildup to to the reveal of Palpatine, Kylo Ren as a character flip-flops between tortured badboy to Maybe Redemption Arc and back. It's not because he's conflicted, it's because everything is simply inconsistent.

Finn and Poe are done huge disgraces by the end of it all, Kylo Ren having been deemed more important and heroic than they are, and The Love Story is just terrible. The end of The Last Jedi sees Kylo Ren successfully assassinate Snoke, which is a pretty cool fucking thing to happen, but Rise of Skywalker squanders the aftermath of that idea with the rushed redemption.

These are movies that feel like each one was supposed to have its own subsequent trilogy; put together, they're a mess.

[rebelliousmuse]

Camera Malfunction – C.B.

For the Sam and Colby fans.

Warning: oral (female receiving), unprotected sex (use condoms).

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

"What's up guys, it's Sam and Colby!" the boys boomed, a mischievous glint in their eyes.

Colby continued "And today, we're dragging y/n and Kris along on another terrifying adventure!" The camera cut to you in the back, holding some ghost hunting equipment. A shiver ran down your spine as the imposing iron gates of Blackwood Manor loomed into view.

"Guys," you said, "This place already feels creepy."

Sam snorted. "It's just an old house."

Colby nudged you with his elbow. "Yeah, y/n. Besides, even if there are ghosts, they probably wouldn't mess with someone as awesome as you." You rolled your eyes, a playful smile tugging at your lips.

Inside, the mansion was a labyrinth of dusty hallways and old portraits. Their guide, Mr. Grimshaw, started talking about a brutal family massacre that had stained the very walls.

"They say the spirits here are restless," Mr. Grimshaw rasped, his voice echoing in the cavernous hall. "They leave scratches on visitors, sometimes they also push or pull their hair."

You rubbed your arms, goosebumps erupting. "Okay, maybe it is a little chilly in here," you mumbled, pulling your well-worn XPLR hoodie out of your backpack.

"Good call, y/n!" Sam said, winking at the camera. "Don't want the viewers to think you're a coward, right?"

"Exactly," you said, throwing your arms wide and giving the camera a mock-heroic pose. "shopxplr.com, where comfort meets courage. Go shop, guys!"

Sam and Colby erupted in cheers. Mr. Grimshaw, however, remained stoic.

After all the story about the place was told, the investigation started. The camera cut back to Sam; a mischievous grin plastered on his face. "Alright guys," he said, "Let's see if we can stir up some of those spirits!"

The EMF reader in Colby's hand whined, the light jumping wildly to red.

"Whoa, guys," Kris said, her voice barely a whisper. "This is intense."

Across the room, Sam held the spirit box device. The screen flickered rapidly, displaying fragmented words: "Alone... helpless... betrayed..." Then, a new word materialized, loud and clear: "SAM."

Sam's eyes widened, his jaw dropping. He whipped the camera towards him. "Did that just say..."

You cut him off, your voice surprisingly steady. "Alright, guys. Looks like things are getting a little too personal." You scanned the darkened hallway.

"We should split up," Colby suggested. "Even better, let the spirits choose the groups."

Colby pulled more equipment from his bag, "Good idea," Sam agreed. "We'll leave one piece of equipment behind each one of us. Whichever two go off, go together".

Kris agreed "Sounds like a plan."

With a shared look of determination, you each placed your chosen equipment on the dusty floor. You opted for the music box, setting it down carefully. The silence stretched, thick with anticipation.

Kris spoke, her voice cracking slightly, "Hey, Luke, could you choose two people to go together so we split up?"

Before she could even finish her sentence, a sombre melody erupted from the music box behind you. You flinched, instinctively covering your face with a groan.

"Oh my god, did you see that?" Sam exclaimed, practically leaping across the room. He pointed at your device, the music box going crazy. "Okay, thank you, that seems clear enough," he continued, his voice a mix of nervous excitement and genuine gratitude. "Could you choose another one, buddy?"

Another agonizing silence stretched on. You peeked through your fingers, watching the other three devices. Then, a faint flicker of light caught your eye. Across the room, Colby's EMF rope lit up.

"Looks like we have our teams!" Kris announced, a nervous smile tugging at Colby’s lips.

Each pair grabbed their ghost hunting equipment, an EMF reader, a spirit box and a camera with a light. Sam and Kris got ready, casting nervous glances towards the door of the basement.

"Basement for us then," Kris said, her voice echoing in the dusty hall.

You and Colby exchanged a look. "Second floor sounds good," you replied, grabbing some equipment and taking the lead towards the stairs. The grand staircase creaked ominously with each step.

Reaching the top floor, you found yourself facing a long hallway lined with closed doors. Colby turned to you, a hesitant smile playing on his lips.

"Which room do you think we should go to first?" he asked.

"Honestly," you mumbled, "I think the kids' room would be a good starting point. The parents' room... well, that's where the bloodiest murder happened, according to Mr. Grimshaw. Maybe we should save that for last?"

Your voice trailed off as you realized you hadn't been paying attention to what you were saying. Instead, your mind was replaying Colby's smile, the way his shirt fit his broad shoulders a little too well tonight.

You reached a door adorned with faded cartoon whales. This had to be the kids' room.

As you pushed the door open, you saw a dusty rocking horse sat frozen in the corner, and a faded floral wallpaper peeled from the walls. You set down the camera and switched on the spirit box.

Suddenly, a clear, childish voice filled the room. "Hi" it said, sending a shiver down your spine.

You began talking to the spirit, obtaining more story. It turned out to be a little girl named Lily, her voice filled with innocence. As you spoke, another voice joined in, deeper and slightly hesitant. It was her brother, William. Together, they painted a picture of a happy childhood cut tragically short.

You documented everything. The sadness of their story mingled with the guilt of being distracted by Colby. You kept asking yourself, 'How can I be thinking about him when these poor kids are trapped here?'

The conversation eventually finished, leaving a heavy silence in the room. It was time to move on. Pushing aside the lingering sadness of the children's story, you forced yourself to focus. There were other rooms to investigate.

Eventually, you reached the parents' room, the centre of the tragedy. The air in the room hung heavy. You stepped on the carpet, fumbling with the familiar weight of the camera.

Colby was beside you, setting up the spirit box. As you reached for the EMF, your hand brushed against his arm, sending electricity through you. You stumbled and before you could react, Colby was there. His hands shot out, instinctively grabbing you by the waist to stop your fall. The sudden contact sent a wave of warmth through you. You could feel the heat of his body through his shirt. “You okay?” he asked.

"Yes, I'm fine, sorry," your answer nervously. You turned around, and your breath hitched. His eyes were on you, a soft smile playing on his lips. His touch remained on your waist.

You felt yourself blushing. The thrilling tension of the investigation was replaced by a nervous flutter in your stomach.

His gaze held yours. A low chuckle rumbled in his chest. "We should get this done already," he said, his voice husky and close.

"We should," you breathed back, your voice barely a whisper. But instead of pulling away, you surprised yourself by reaching out. Your hand, trembling slightly, landed on his chest. Your fingers grazed the fabric of his shirt. You traced a slow path down. Colby's gaze dropped from yours, lingering on your lips. A flicker of surprise, quickly overtaken by a hesitant smile, danced across his face.

You mirrored his gaze. The weight of his touch, the intensity of his stare, it was too much for you to resist.

In that charged silence, you leaned in, a slow, deliberate movement. Colby met you halfway. Then, hesitantly at first, your lips met. It was a soft brush, but in a moment, the kiss deepened.

Your hands moved instinctively, one cupping Colby's face, the other threading through his hair. He pulled you closer. The distant hum of the spirit box seemed to fade away, replaced by the frantic drumming of your hearts.

The world dissolved into a blur of heat and sensation. You were breathless, tangled in the sheets of the dusty parent's bed.

Colby hovered above you. His touch was everywhere, a gentle yet insistent exploration. Buttons popped open; clothes slipped away. You mirrored his movements, clumsy with desire.

Thank God you hadn't started recording yet, the thought flashed through your mind even as it faded into insignificance. The only thing that mattered was the press of Colby's body against yours, the warmth of his skin against yours.

He trailed kisses down your neck, his lips lingered on the sensitive skin of your collarbone, sending a gasp escaping your lips.

As Colby's kisses traced a path down your abdomen, a shiver ran down your spine with each touch. You closed your eyes, a silent prayer forming in your mind – that Sam and Kris were engrossed in their investigation, that you could have a few more minutes with Colby.

The silence in the room was broken only by the ragged rhythm of your breath. Colby paused, his gaze flickering to your face, searching for your reaction.

With a gentle motion, he removed the last layer of fabric separating your bodies, tossing your panties on the floor. The cool air sent goosebumps erupting across your skin, momentarily grounding you in reality. But then, his hands found your thighs as he separated your them and placed his head between them. His grip was firm yet gentle, a possessiveness that both surprised and excited you.

Colby's touch was exquisite, sending waves of pleasure through your skin. His tongue danced across your sensitive clit. A gasp escaped your lips, a mixture of surprise and delight. You arched your back instinctively.

Low guttural sounds escaping his lips as he explored further. His fingers joined, the intoxicating feeling of his touch.

As his fingers went deeper, massaging that gummy spot, a sharp gasp escaped your lips, leaving you breathless and trembling in his arms.

"Fuck, baby," he murmured, his voice husky and low. "I could eat you out all day." He started making his way to your mouth, leaving a trail of kisses through your body. Your lips meeting his in a slow kiss. Your hands roamed over his body, tracing the contours of his muscles.

His hand cupped your face. "We don't have too much time," you whispered.

A flicker of amusement danced across his face. "Should we stop?" he suggested, his voice a husky murmur against your skin.

You shook your head, "No," you breathed, your voice barely audible. "Fuck me, now." He smirked slyly, giving you a short kiss while grabbing his hard cock on his right hand, positioning himself on your entrance.

Colby entered you slowly, letting you adjust to his size. You gasped as he held your gaze with his jaw clenched.

A low growl rumbled in his chest as he began to move. Your moans escaped your lips involuntarily. The sound wasn't lost on Colby.

"Faster, Colby," you whispered, your voice rough with a need you couldn't deny.

He responded instantly, his movements mirroring your growing desire. The sound of skin slapping against skin was a counterpoint to the gasps escaping your lips.

With each thrust, you felt yourself reaching the edge. "Oh my god," you breathed, the words punctuated by moans that begged for release. "C-colb-y, I'm g-gonna..."

"Cum for me, baby," he whispered. "Show me how good I make you feel."

You arched your back, surrendering to the wave of pleasure that threatened to consume you. A choked cry escaped your lips as you reached your climax, the world dissolving around you. Colby collapsed beside you, his chest moving up and down as he caught his breath.

A distant creak of floorboards sent a jolt through you. "Did you hear that?" you whispered.

"Sounds like Sam and Kris," he confirmed, his voice low and gravelly. "They must be done with their investigation."

Scrambling out of bed, you reached for your discarded clothes, pulling them on with shaking hands. Colby mirrored your movements, his movements more controlled but a flicker of urgency in his eyes.

The room looked different, the messy the bed, the misplaced throw pillows, it all screamed sex. Desperate to create a semblance of normalcy, you darted around the room, straightening the covers, smoothing them.

"The spirit box!" you hissed, remembering the abandoned equipment in your haste. You snatched it up.

"What are we going to say?" Colby asked, his voice barely a whisper.

"I don't know," you confessed, "We just need to come up with something believable." The creaking of floorboards grew louder.

Just as you were about to blurt out the first excuse that came to mind, the bedroom door swung open, revealing Sam and Kris.

"Hey, you guys done in here?" Sam inquired.

"Uh, yeah," Colby stammered, stepping forward with a forced smile. "We were just wrapping things up." His voice betrayed a hint of nervousness.

"Good," Kris said, "How was the investigation?"

Colby launched into a detailed account, telling the stories the children had shared and details about other spirits communication.

Kris's gaze shifted towards you. "What about this room?" she asked.

Your throat constricted. You stole a glance at Colby, a silent plea for help. He met your gaze, a flicker of reassurance passing between you.

"Well..." you began, "The camera started malfunctioning here," you blurted out, desperate to buy some time. "It didn't start recording anything."

A collective gasp filled the room. Sam's eyes widened in disbelief. "No way!" he exclaimed, his voice laced with shock.

Kris raised an eyebrow. "Interesting. Maybe we should try again," she suggested, a hint of excitement creeping into her voice.

Colby seized the opportunity. "Yeah, sure," he said, his voice regaining its earlier confidence. "Maybe we should do an Estes method here. I offer myself."

The suggestion hung in the air. Was it the best idea, volunteering himself for potential spirit interaction after their encounter? You fought down a wave of anxiety.

Sam seemed excited by the suggestion. "Cool, let's start so we can wrap this up already," he said, shivering slightly. "It's getting too cold and dark in this creepy house."

[wheeboo]

RANIAAA MY LOVELY HRU😍😍

this is such a random thought but i had this idea in my head of superman!mingyu who’s just a gentle giant in a big muscular body🥺🥺 an adorable coworker at a newspaper outlet that fights crime

clark kent superman mingyu... IM GONNA RIP MY HAIR OUT RACHEL UR PUTTING THOGUHTS IN MY HEAD !!!!

no cuz ik mingyu would be the type to apologize for his superhuman strength after punching the bad guy 😭😭 like my dude is just always underestimates his powers ITS SO CUTE AND ENDEARING NGL 😭😭

anyway here's a long ass headcanon cuz they gave me SO MUCH BRAINROT LMAOOA

superman!mingyu who looks so DASHING in his suit and he always likes to wave to the pedastrians when he's flying and watching over the city

superman!mingyu who besides using his powers to fight crime he's always called to help save some kitty who got stranded in a tree, his red cape flowing so elegantly behind him as he floats down to the ground, cradling the little one in his arms :((

superman!mingyu who while patrolling sees some thug snatch a person's purse, making him throw away the doughnut he was eating and flying off after the thug. he manages to retrieve the purse back and returns it to back to the owner... to you hehe. his heart may have done a lil leap once you gave him a thankful smile

superman!mingyu who struggles to keep his heroic identity at bay, thankful for the pair of glasses that he wears to blend into the normal commotion of society. he's almost been caught one too many times, and there's even a lil dent in the elevator from his hands at the daily planet

superman!mingyu who finds out you work as an A-list journalist at the daily planet. tries his best to be so friendly and charming around you--gives you coffee in the mornings, opens the doors for you, offers you a shoulder whenever you're stressed. just doesn't help that he's called into action at the worst times possible, but this doesn't seem to sever your little connection together :')

superman!mingyu who asks to treat you after a stressful day at work, and even offers to walk you home, lamely using the reason, "well what if someone comes up and snatches your purse? I'll be there to save you!" and lowkey regrets saying that afterwards thinking he gave himself away HAHAH

superman!mingyu who almost impulsively confesses his feelings for you at your doorstep, but just has to be interrupted and called into action. has to contemplate for a moment, before promising that he'll explain everything soon and rushes off

superman!mingyu who secretly hovers near you when you're walking home at night to make sure you're safe :(( and subtly guides you away from any potential danger

superman!mingyu who thinks he's just so good at hiding his identity, thinking that you don't notice the way he looks a bit disheveled when showing up to work or the way he even wore his glasses upside down one time... but you're very observant, more than he thinks

superman!mingyu who finally gathers the courage to ask you out on a real date, suggesting a quiet dinner at a restaurant he knows you like. he's determined to spend the evening with you as mingyu, but he feels the urge to just tell you everything because he trusts you that much, yet he can't get himself to

superman!mingyu who finds himself stuck in a bit of an argument with you one night at the daily planet as stress had been piling up on you on top of his odd behaviour recently, which you also bring up out of frustration

superman!mingyu who freezes when you claim him to be superman, your words hanging in the air as the two of you stand together at the balcony near the top of the building. even with his continuous denials, the determination in your features is hard to challenge

superman!mingyu who suddenly feels a jolt of panic as he watches you climb onto the railing, your hands gripping the cold metal as you look back at him with a mix of defiance and trust

superman!mingyu who watches in horror as you let go of the railing and lean backward, your body tipping over the edge in slow motion, his heart catching in his throat as he sees you disappear from view

superman!mingyu who wastes no time, his glasses falling to the ground as he rushes to the edge and leaps off after you. his arms wrap around your waist when he finally catches up to you, pulling you close as he slows his descent to the ground

superman!mingyu who can't help but stare at you in pure panic and worry once you reach down the ground, looking over your face for any signs of injury or discomfort. his face softens when he doesn't though

superman!mingyu who tells you please never scare him like that again, and kisses you in that moment, hands trembling as he cups your face gently, silently vowing to protect you for as long as he could <3

[veinsfullofstars]

“If the Fountain itself considers you worthy…

then so do I, my liege.”

⭐MetaDede Week 2024 Day 7: Loyalty ⭐

(ID: Kirby series fanart of King Dedede and Meta Knight leaping up together in triumph, the former alight with boisterous laughter, the latter heroic and graceful, his great wings framing the two of them as they rise, their hands clasped, their weapons - the Star Rod Hammer for DDD, Galaxia for MK - held aloft in a flurry of bright stars and crackling lightning respectively. END ID.)

Partially inspired by this post thread by @acutestar.

Previous Days | Prompt List (made by @/mtddweek)

Started 08/25/24, finished 08/27/24.

[letteredlettered]

Hi! I would love to read a JC and WWX post and how it is diff from what you’ve seen in western media!

I'd already started writing a JC post, so I wrapped that in to answer your question.

I follow a few JC fans so I see the backlash to the haters more than I see any haters, but apparently there’s some question in some people’s mind about whether Jiang Cheng loves Wei Wuxian, and I find that a little silly. That said, I think that to understand MDZS’s JC at all, you cannot just read the surface, so if you’re not thinking about him as a person or giving him any consideration beyond what other characters say and think of him, you’re not doing him justice. You’re also not going to see that he loves WWX and also loves several other people quite deeply, because a) JC's never going to be affectionate in his dialogue, b) JC's not going to even be affectionate in his body language or minor actions, and c) WWX, the main viewpoint character, is never once going to think about whether JC likes him or loves him.

Lots of posts have outlined better than I will how deeply loves not only WWX, but also his family, in particular JL. The short version is: JC’s his major flaws are all related to him loving his parents and getting shown very little affection in return—none at all from his father and only some in a backhanded way from his mother, usually in comparison to WWX.

As for Jin Ling, JC threatens him all the time, and even shoves him around a bit, but Jin Ling obviously adores JC and feels adored. JC is the one Jin Ling goes to when he's crying; JC is also the one who leaps to JL's side when JL is hurt. JL knows he's in trouble with JC when JL does something unsafe, but JL knows that his own safety is the most important thing in JC's life. Tellingly, JL rarely takes any of JC's threats seriously, and even tells other people said threats are bogus.

Then there’s WWX. Even while JC is berating WWX endlessly for making their clan look bad, he is literally carrying around WWX on his back. He is protecting WWX with everything he has. He sacrifices himself to the Wens to WWX won't get caught. After their falling out, after WWX lied to him for years and got their sister killed, JC still can't even stop himself from protecting WWX when WWX might get hurt by JGY's guqin string.

The guy is willing to throw himself on the fire for anyone he loves. Just heaven forbid he express any of it. But because he does not express love through speech, Wei Wuxian (who I will point out is a talker) doesn't understand this about Jiang Cheng—and this is shown to be a consistent flaw that WWX has. He also does not understand that LWJ is in love with him, despite LWJ defying all of society to follow him around and lift him onto donkeys whenever WWX gets droopy.

But I'd add the pretty much no one, other than Jin Ling, understands this about Jiang Cheng. If the cultivation world had understood JC, they would not have believed that JC and WWX had actually had a falling out. Part of the reason people don't know him is the same reason JC has such a terrible time with everything—WWX steals everyone's attention, praise, and fear wherever they go. No one is really looking at JC to admire his devotion or his loyalty, because WWX is there, doing it better than him, always. Imagine LWJ+WWX hadn’t defeated the Tortoise of Slaughter and had just been holed up in that cave for six days. All anyone would’ve talked about was how deeply JC must love his shixiong to make it back in such record time. It would all be “heroic rescue” this “unflagging loyalty” that. But instead, LWJ+WWX  had to really just steal the limelight.

In fact, the book is partly about the fact that people don't analyze people's actions too deeply. They believe what they hear. They believe what they want to believe. JC really can just say "I reject WWX" and they believe it. JGS can really just say "WWX is evil" and they believe it. Everybody says LWJ is perfect, so they believe he can't be a cut-sleeve who is in love with WWX. And WWX, who knows better than anyone that rumors aren't true, believes it too.

Even after WWX's death, JC's reputation is locked onto WWX. I do think this is JC’s own fault, given that he can’t accept his brother’s death and is obsessed with him but idk. Canon demonstrates that there’s a huge difference between what JC says he’ll do if he finds WWX and what JC actually does, and it’s not because LWJ is in the way. But no one really seems to pay attention to the difference between what JC says and what he actually does when the chips are down, except JL, so it’s no wonder everyone says he has torture dungeons, no matter how ludicrous that is.

I think what makes JC’s love for WWX particularly complex, and particularly incomprehensible in the eyes of the cultivation world, is WWX's position in JC's family. JC thought of WWX as a brother. He loved him like a brother. And yet JC was deeply aware that WWX wasn't his brother. JC's mom made sure that JC was deeply aware of that at all times, and you know what, so did his dad. And then, the rest of the cultivation world constantly talked about the fact that WWX was not a part of the family, that the Jiang Clan raised him like a son but he was really the son of a servant. MXTX expertly shows that this fact gets trotted out whenever WWX does something questionable--when WWX is brilliant, he's a lauded member of the clan, but when he is bad, he is of low-birth and adopted through charity. The truth is, it’s an unusual relationship for a world in which there’s a pretty big different between your clan (blood relatives) and sect.

How can JC hold both of these truths in his head? What makes it bearable for JC is that when they grow up, JC will be the Sect Leader and WWX will be his right-hand man; they will do everything together; they will be brilliant together; they never have to worry about blood or debt then, because then it won't matter whether they're brothers or best friends; the difference won't matter. They can both be the head of a family that they love. Except that doesn't happen.

JC’s parents die, and WWX disappears. I will, at this point in my understanding and credit to Jiang Cheng, say that the part about JC I find hardest to swallow is that he partially blames his parents' death on WWX. Yes, WWX stayed behind in the cave of the Tortoise of Slaughter to save LWJ, and yes, this meant that Wen Chao and WLJ have a particular grudge against him, which they use as partial excuse to attack Lotus Pier, but by god, that's a stretch. Lotus Pier would have been attacked anyway, and the fact that JC even partly blames the attack on WWX has far more to do with what his mom said about WWX showing off for the glory and bringing down the wrath of the Wens than it has to do with reality. YZY is going to say anything she can about how WWX being a hero with the Tortoise of Slaughter was actually a bad thing, because it's so fucking painful for her that WWX is a fucking legend when her son just . . . isn't.

As JGY points out, they were in fact the strongest sect once WWX comes back from the Burial Mounds and fights the Sunshot Campaign with JC. They could have been the power couple of JC’s dreams, but just as YZY pits JC against WWX, the cultivation world after the war pitted WWX against themselves and by extension, JC, and JC buys into it. I find this super understandable, and I think it’s pretty unfair to expect JC to be more understanding of WWX, given that WWX is constantly lying to him. Similarly, I think it’s pretty understandable that he doesn’t understand the plight of the Wens, given that WWX doesn’t explain it to him at all. From JC’s POV, WWX just leaves, at a time when JC really needs him, and he does it on a crusade for unrelated people—as though he never considered himself part of the family in the first place.

And you know what, that may be WWX’s POV too. He loves the Jiang family like his own family, but he’s also deeply aware that he is not blood. MXTX makes it very clear in canon that WWX felt that he owed the Jiang Clan, and not in the way you owe a family. That is—he doesn’t owe them his existence, but he thinks he does owe them his core and his cultivation. And he gives it all to JC.

I outlined above that the relationship between JC and WWX is unusual in the cultivation world given that they each feel like the other is family but are consistently reminded of the fact, and pressured to believe, that they are only sect siblings and that WWX is actually a subordinate. I also haven’t found many relationships like this in other media—though I’ll point out once again that my experience is mainly with western media. I think the closest things I can think of are stories in which the parties are of a different class but are raised together for whatever reason—because they actually are somewhat related but one of them has low class relatives, or because they were not as well-supervised in their youth but  one of them suddenly comes into money and is forced to leave his low-class BFF behind, etc.

Given that this relationship is unusual, you don’t see a lot of situations like WWX’s, in which WWX feels like he owes the Jiang family his golden core and then gives it to him. But there’s another element to this sacrifice that I’ve only seen in one other piece of media, and that’s the fact that WWX knows that JC can’t live without being special, and WWX thinks he can handle it.

There is so much in western media about brothers giving up their lives to protect their brothers (Supernatural), or even just giving up their dreams and ambitions so that their brother can follow his own dreams instead (It’s a Wonderful Life). But these sacrifices are always framed as “I love him so much,” or “It’s my duty” or “I couldn’t live with myself if he didn’t get what he wanted” and sometimes even, “I can handle the suffering and I don’t want him to live with it.” But there’s something about WWX’s “eh it’s not a big deal to me  and it is to him” or his “bro’s kinda petty and can’t get over himself, whatchu gonna do” that feels stupidly singular.

WWX never says it isn’t a big deal. He never said that it didn’t hurt or that he didn’t make a sacrifice. He never said JC was pathetic or a loser or anything that diminishes JC or makes him less than he is. What he says is that JC is always competitive and comparing himself to others, which is true. But the other sacrifices in fiction that come close are a little more “I don’t want you to have to suffer” or even “I’m strong, and you’re weak, so I’ll take on this burden for you.” Meanwhile WWX doesn’t think JC is weak, and while WWX doesn’t want to suffer, he certainly doesn’t want to suffer himself. The sentiment feels closer to “you need to feel special so I’ll make that happen for you,” and there’s something about it that is a little condescending.

I mentioned that I’ve only seen this kind of thing one other time, and it was in a baseball anime called Touch that aired in Japan in the 1980s. Touch is a story about twins, one of whom is smart, talented, and works hard. The other twin, Tatsuya, is good in school and good at baseball, but at first seems like a lazy guy who only cares about joking around and having fun. Then you find out he’s a genius and a one-in-a-lifetime talent, but just never bothered to focus on anything because he’s so stupidly good at everything that he would just show his brother up, and his brother cares about excelling and Tatsuya doesn’t, so he just…was careful to never apply himself to anything.

WWX isn’t Tatsuya, in that when they’re on an even playing field, WWX doesn’t really seem to have any compunctions about showing off. But as soon as the playing field becomes uneven, he also has no compunctions about destroying himself so that JC’s competitive spirit is satisfied. There’s something about it that has a flavor of “I’m better than you,” even if it’s never what WWX meant to communicate. No wonder JC feels like a clown.

Like, in the end, WWX kind of did make a fool of JC, even though WWX did it out of both love and loyalty. I'm not sure I've ever read or seen anything else where such a sacrifice has such ambiguity, and it really makes the WWX+JC relationship one of the most complicated I've seen.

[fluentmoviequoter]

Stay in the Car

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!wife!cop!reader

Summary: Tim disappears from the station, and you and Aaron have to find him. After a heroic leap of faith, you save him in more ways than one.

Warnings: this is inspired by a scene in 6x10 but there's no story spoilers, angst, implied abduction and drug trafficking, injuries, fluff

Word Count: 2.3k+ words

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

It’s been a slow day in the Mid-Wilshire station. You and your husband Tim were called back to assist with a case, but so far, all you’ve done is sort through paperwork.

“I thought we had rookies for this kind of thing,” you whisper conspiratorially.

“They’re busy babysitting crime scenes,” Tim replies.

You nod as you slide the last form into its proper place. Tim pushes his empty box away and sighs. Now there’s truly nothing to do.

“So, this is where the party is,” Aaron teases as he and Nolan return.

“Yeah,” you agree sarcastically. “It’s a rager, as you can see.”

The detective you’ve been assisting gathers his papers and thanks you quickly. Alone and bored again, you ask Aaron how the streets are today.

“Quiet. Not so much as a speeding ticket so far,” he tells you as he collapses into the seat beside you.

“The Q-word,” Nolan reminds him. “Make sure Harper isn’t around before you use it.”

Tim shakes his head and digs his phone out of his pocket. You tap your foot against his leg under the table, but as his brows draw together, he doesn’t look up at you.

“You alright?” you ask him.

“I have to go.” Tim stands as he speaks, and only spares a glance in your direction.

“Where?”

Tim jogs toward the door as he answers, and you can’t make out part of what he says. It sounds like laundry then, "I love you."

“What’s that about?” Nolan asks.

“No idea. Someone must’ve called for backup,” you guess.

“Probably someone at Hollywood. They’re getting calls.”

“I’ll be right back.”

Aaron nods at you as you stand. When you walk out of the station you see Tim’s truck and his shop still parked in their usual spots. You walk past both vehicles, but there’s no sign of him.

“You lookin’ for the cop that just walked out?” a man on the sidewalk asks.

“Yes, I am. Did you see where he went?” you reply.

“Guy led him to a truck. Figured they were friends or somethin’.”

Your eyes widen as your heart rate increases. Tim wouldn’t have just left while on duty without telling you. To provide backup, sure, but not to get in a truck with a civilian.

“Did you see the truck? Where it went?” you question.

“Nah, miss. Sorry.”

You run back inside and straight to Aaron. Nolan is no longer waiting with him, but Aaron has nothing but time, and you need to find your husband.

“Did you drive to work today?” you ask him.

“Yeah,” he answers slowly. “Why?”

“We need to go. Tim just left and might need backup. He’s not on a call, though.”

“Just take a shop.”

“No, Aaron. I don’t know where he is or who he’s with, and I don’t need to spook anyone into killing him!” you exclaim.

Aaron makes no move to hand over his keys, but you need a personally owned vehicle to stay incognito. Tim has his truck keys, so you need to convince Aaron to help you; if not for you, for Tim.

“Aaron, keys!” you demand.

“We don’t even know where they’re going,” Aaron argues.

“And we won’t find Tim if we don’t do something.” You take a deep breath and run your thumb over your wedding band. “I can’t lose him, Aaron.”

“I know,” he assures. “But I’m going with you. Tim needs all of us. Whatever that text was must've been important.”

Aaron waves as he steps past you, and you follow him to the parking area. When he removes a leather key fob from his pocket and you see a Lamborghini sitting in his spot, you momentarily forget about Tim and his sudden disappearance.

“Aaron, we can’t…” you begin.

“Forget about the car. Let’s go!”

You climb into the passenger seat as Aaron starts the car with an obnoxious rev of the engine.

“Habit,” he murmurs as he pulls the gear shift into reverse. “Where are we going?”

“It’s been at least fifteen minutes since he walked out. They could be miles in any direction by now,” you reply.

“But they wouldn’t have gone anywhere, right?” Aaron asks as he looks both ways to turn. “It may have been last-minute, but they had a plan.”

“What did he say when he left?”

“That he loved you.”

“No, before that.”

“Oh, uhm.” Aaron pauses to think as he passes a truck going under the speed limit. “Something about a laundromat, I think.”

“Did he say laundromat, laundering, or laundry?”

“What’s the difference? Besides washing clothes and the illegal money trade, I mean.”

“Landry,” you realize aloud. “He said Landry as in Pierre Landry!”

“Okay,” Aaron replies. “Who is that?”

“Head toward the Hills.”

“Finally,” Aaron mumbles.

“One more favour?” you request.

“Anything, you know that.”

“Drive this car like you want to. Grey alerted dispatch that we took a POV.”

“Now that’s a favour I’d love to do.”

You sit back in the passenger seat as Aaron shifts into another gear. He swerves in and out of traffic as you think of your husband. Tim has to be safe, because you’ll lose yourself if he’s not.

“What exactly is the plan?” Aaron asks.

You snap yourself out of your racing thoughts of Tim to say, “I’ll know when I see it.”

Aaron nods to himself, but you can tell he’s not convinced. Your plan certainly isn’t detailed, probably not even smart, yet you have to trust that it’ll work. It has to work.

“Slow down,” you tell Aaron. “See the brown truck in the right lane, thirty yards ahead?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Aaron answers. “Oh.”

The back window is broken out and the driver is swerving within the boundaries of his lane, but you can’t see why. When the truck drifts toward the car in the next lane, they hit their brakes and lay on the horn. Aaron swings into the lane behind the truck and ignores the people who honk at him.

With the new vantage point, you see a gun in the bed of the truck. As you lean toward Aaron’s dash to get a better look, you see two people moving in the cab. The driver raises a knife, and then they duck down toward the seat again as he swerves toward the barrier between the lanes. The truck moves over a lane, and the surrounding traffic has given him plenty of room to wreck without harming anyone. The new bumper surrounding the erratic (and armed) truck driver provides the perfect opportunity.

“Get beside him,” you tell Aaron. “But not too close. Stay away from his door.”

He nods and speeds up to drive into the lane beside the truck. You toll your window down and unclip your seatbelt as Aaron’s car lines up with the truck bed.

“What are you doing?” Aaron yells over the wind.

You pull yourself through the narrow window to sit atop the door. “Saving my husband!” you answer loudly. “Keep it steady and fall back the minute I jump.”

“But you-“

“Thorsen!” you interrupt. “Fall back the minute I jump. Understood?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You raise your hands to the hood of his car and carefully pull your knees up. When your right foot reaches the door, you push yourself to stand and use your hands to stay steady. You count down in your head 3, 2, 1, and then you jump. Aaron hits the brakes and the distance between you and him increases quickly.

When you hit the truck bed, you roll before you catch yourself. With a calculated movement, you wait until it swerves again to push yourself up and toward the broken back window. Pushed against the body at the back of the cab, you reach your arms inside and grab the driver’s arm. It isn’t until you push yourself in further that you actually see Tim. Tim’s eyes meet yours, and he exhales sharply as you pull the driver back against his seat.

“Move,” you tell Tim.

He pulls himself up from the floorboard and into the passenger seat. The driver finds his knife again and begins slinging it aimlessly over his shoulder, aiming for you. Tim doesn’t hesitate to move across the cab of the truck and pull the driver’s hands away from you.

“Tim!” you warn as the truck begins drifting toward the curb.

You keep your arms locked around the driver’s shoulders but watch Tim. He takes a deep breath and leans back. As he shoves his feet against the man’s side, he grimaces in pain but doesn’t stop. The momentum knocks the driver against the door beside him and his foot slides off the gas pedal. You move your left arm to his neck and hold him tightly as you reach for the steering wheel with your right.

Tim slips forward again to avoid a punch from the driver and extends his arm toward the brake pedal. He groans as he pushes it to the floor, and you use all of your strength to pull the driver back and away from Tim. The truck lurches to a quick stop and you turn so that your side makes impact with the broken window frame rather than your face or chest.

Sirens sound behind you and grow louder quickly now that you aren’t moving. The driver reaches for something under his seat, but you grab the gun that slid forward in the truck bed and aim it at his temple.

“Drop it,” you command. “Now.”

Tim groans again as he sits up, but he keeps his eyes on the man you’re holding. You loosen your grip and open the driver’s side door so the approaching officers can get him out and into custody. He takes the opportunity to roll out, but Aaron pulls up beside him before he can push himself up and run.

“That was amazing!” Aaron applauds as he exits his car.

Tim hisses in pain, and you turn toward him quickly.

“That was dumb,” he argues.

“Are you okay?” you ask him.

Tim cradles his arm but nods. You hop over the side of the bed and open the passenger door. Tim leans toward you as you lay your hand on his shoulder.

“Where’s Landry?” Nyla asks as she and Angela run toward the truck.

“Whoa,” Angela interjects. “You alright?”

“Yeah. Driver didn’t say much, but he radioed that he would meet someone at John Anson,” Tim answers.

“Get an ambulance,” Angela tells a passing officer.

“John Anson Ford? The theater?” Nyla clarifies.

You tune out their conversation as you squat beside the truck. Tim’s boots are scuffed from breaking the window, but other than the scrapes you can see and his arm, he seems relatively fine. You release a relieved, albeit shaky, breath as you stand.

“It’s not high season for the theater,” you add. “Landry could be using it as a distribution base for his new product.”

“He’ll get suspicious when reckless back there doesn’t show,” Tim says.

“We’ll send someone in,” Nyla assures him. “You’re going to the hospital.”

“Don’t,” Angela warns when Tim opens his mouth. “Argue with your wife about it.”

She winks at you as she and Nyla walk toward the other officers waiting behind you. The ambulance navigates through the crowd of police cars and officers, and you look into Tim’s eyes.

“You scared me,” you murmur, taking his hand.

“You jumped from a moving car onto another moving car, but you want to play that card?” Tim challenges.

“Are you really okay?” you ask.

“I promise. There is one thing I’d like you to do- two, maybe.”

You nod quickly, and Tim looks over your shoulder at the approaching EMTs.

“Go finish this case, and make sure it’s over.”

“Tim, I-“

“I need to know. And you do too.”

“Okay,” you agree. “What’s the second thing?”

Tim tips his chin up, and you smile before you kiss him gently. He moves his good arm toward your waist, but you step back.

“You’re sure?” you check.

Tim nods, and you demand that he keep you updated as you step back.

“I love you,” you tell him.

“I love you,” he replies. “Get Landry.”

You salute Tim and smile when he rolls his eyes. Tim will give the paramedics a hard time, but he’s safe, and that’s all that matters.

“Grey,” you call as you enter the bullpen.

“Thank goodness,” he sighs. “Everything wrapped up?”

“Detectives are closing the case as we speak, and Landry is already booked and processed. We also grabbed two distributors who already had product on them.”

“Then get out of here.” Wade smiles as he adds, “And take your husband with you.”

You furrow your brows. Tim should be at the hospital still; it’s only been a few hours since you left him with the EMTs. Wade points toward the roll call room, and you see your husband sitting against a table with his arm in a sling.

Without another word, you walk away from Sergeant Grey and toward Tim. He looks up when you open the door, and his shoulders drop when he sees you.

“We got Landry,” you say before he asks.

“I’m fine,” Tim tells you, sensing that you have a question too.

“Good. Ready to go home?”

“As long as you’ll stay in the car this time,” Tim jokes.

He stands, and you hug under his uninjured arm. You feel him relax before his wraps his arm around you and ducks his head toward your shoulder.

“You mean more to me than you’ll ever know,” he murmurs. “Thanks for saving my life.”

“I love you, Tim,” you whisper. “But don’t ever make me do that again. You walked out and then you were gone.”

“Hey.” Tim waits until you look at him to finish, “Never again.”

You kiss him quickly and then step back and take his hand. “I promise to stay in the car all the way home if we can get food on the way.”

Tim rolls his eyes, but the way he keeps you close as you walk to his truck – which you have to drive now – makes you think he really was just as worried about you as you were for him.

[mbruben-stein]

I fucking love your work

And can you make a TMNT 2012 Leo x Chubby/Curvy Reader?

I love your TMNT work God bless you sweetie🤗💕

I love you the way you are.

TMNT 2012 Leo x chubby/curvy reader.

A/N: I was having a little bit of trouble riding this one. I was just stuck on writers block for a while. I hope everyone enjoys what I write. Have a lovely day everyone and remember that there's always going to be someone that loves you the way you are.

You sigh as you stare at your reflection in the mirror, pinching the soft flesh around your waist. No matter how much you work out and eat healthy, you can never seem to lose the curves and extra weight. Sometimes you feel insecure about your body, wishing you had a lean, slender figure like April or Karai.

As much as you try not to let it get to you, the negative thoughts creep in more and more lately. It doesn't help that you have a huge crush on Leonardo - strong, disciplined, heroic Leo. You're sure he would never be attracted to someone with a body like yours. He probably goes for fit, athletic girls who can keep up with his intense training.

Feeling discouraged, you throw on some loose clothes and head over to the lair to hang out with the turtles like you do most days. You've been close friends with them ever since they saved you from some Purple Dragon gang members a year ago. Although you adore all four brothers, you find yourself most drawn to Leo and his sense of honor and leadership. You try to hide your feelings, not wanting to risk your friendship or face inevitable rejection.

When you arrive at the lair, Mikey bounces over to greet you. "Y/N! Check out this new pizza recipe I invented - pepperoni, jelly beans and garlic! I call it the Mikey Surprise!"

You laugh and pat his shell. "That sounds...interesting Mikey. Maybe I'll try it later." You scan the room and spot Leo practicing katas off to the side. He notices you and gives a quick smile and wave before resuming his focused movements with his katana blades. Your heartbeat quickens at the mere sight of him.

"Whatcha staring at, Y/N?" Raph teases, plopping down on the couch. "Could it be our fearless leader over there?"

You feel your cheeks redden. "What? No! I was just spacing out. Not staring at anyone in particular."

Donnie looks up from the gadget he's tinkering with, raising an eye ridge. "Uh huh, sure." He exchanges a knowing glance with Raph.

Wanting to change the subject, you ask, "So what's the plan for today guys? Any missions to foil the Foot or Kraang?"

"Nah, it's been pretty quiet," Raph says. "Probably just training and patrolling later."

As if on cue, Leo finishes his katas and strides over to the group. "We'll head out in a few hours to scout the city. There's been reports of increased Purple Dragon activity by the docks we should check out." His ocean blue eyes turn to you. "Y/N, you're welcome to come if you'd like. We could always use an extra set of eyes. And I know you can handle yourself in a fight if needed."

Your eyes widen in surprise. Leo has never invited you on a patrol before. "Really? You'd want me to come with you guys?"

"Of course," Leo says warmly, placing a hand on your shoulder. "You're part of the team."

You beam at him, heart fluttering at his touch. "I'd love to come! Thanks Leo!" You try to sound casual and not too eager.

The next couple hours pass quickly as you all eat pizza, joke around, and watch Mikey and Raph thumb wrestle. Soon it's time to head up to the surface. The turtles gather their gear and you all climb out of the sewer into the dark city night.

You follow the brothers as they sprint and leap across the rooftops with ease. Even with all the training they've given you, you still struggle to keep pace with their mutant speed and strength. Not to mention your curvy body feels cumbersome and heavy as you try to gracefully jump from building to building like they do.

After a few minutes, you need to pause to catch your breath. "You guys go on ahead," you pant, waving them on. "I'll catch up in a sec."

Leo frowns and hangs back as his brothers continue forward. "You okay, Y/N? We can take a break if you need to."

You force a smile, not wanting to slow him down. "I'm fine, Leo. Just go with the others. I know I can't keep up with you guys."

He shakes his head. "I'm not leaving you behind. Here, climb on my back. I'll carry you the rest of the way."

You hesitate, self-conscious about your weight. "Are you sure? I'm probably too heavy..."

Leo gives you a look. "Y/N, you're not too heavy. It's no problem, I promise. Now hop on before the guys get too far ahead of us and Raph starts calling me Lame-o-nardo again."

Biting your lip, you walk over and carefully climb onto his shell, wrapping your arms and legs around him from behind. He easily hoists you up and takes off running, not showing any strain from your added size.

"Is this okay?" you ask meekly, convinced you must be crushing him.

Leo cranes his neck to give you a reassuring smile over his shoulder. "You're perfect, Y/N. I've got you."

Something about the way he says that makes your stomach flutter. You rest your head against his shoulder and allow yourself to relax as he carries you across the rooftops. Being this close to him feels amazing.

After a couple minutes, you catch up to where the others have stopped on a ledge overlooking the docks. Leo gently lowers you to the ground. You immediately miss his touch but try to focus on the mission.

"What do you see?" Leo asks his brothers.

Donnie peers through the scope on his goggles. "Looks like your typical Purple Dragon deal going down. I count maybe a dozen of them and...is that Hun? I thought he was still locked up!"

Raph cracks his knuckles. "Not anymore it seems. And it looks like he brought backup." He points to several black vans pulling up.

"Foot soldiers," Leo says grimly as the doors open to reveal Shredder's men piling out. "Just what we need. A Purple Dragon and Foot team-up."

You look at Leo in concern. "What's the plan, Chief?"

His brow furrows in thought before he nods decisively. "We go in quick and quiet. Take out as many as we can before they sound the alarm. Don, Mikey, you guys handle the Purple Dragons. Raph and I will deal with the Foot. Y/N, I want you to stay up here and keep watch. Let us know if any more show up. We'll regroup once it's clear."

You frown slightly, wondering if he just wants you to stay back because you'd get in the way with your lack of ninja skills. But you know he's just trying to keep you safe, so you agree.

"Got it. Be careful down there guys." You give Leo's hand a quick squeeze. He returns it before signaling his brothers forward.

You crouch on the ledge and observe as the four ninja turtles silently take out the guards and make their way through the shadows. It never fails to impress you seeing them in action.

Things seem to be going smoothly until you notice another black van pull up and even more Foot ninjas spill out. "Guys, heads up! Reinforcements incoming!" you say into your T-phone.

On the ground, you see Raph groan. "Aw shell, not again."

The new wave of Foot rush to aid their comrades, turning the battle into an all out brawl. You wince as you watch the turtles begin to get overwhelmed by the sheer number of enemies surrounding them.

Suddenly, you notice Leo get knocked back by a powerful punch from a hulking Foot ninja. The brute raises his sword to deliver a finishing blow while Leo is dazed...

Without thinking, you leap off the ledge and land shell-first on the Foot soldier, knocking him to the ground. You roll to your feet in front of Leo protectively. "Stay away from him!"

The Foot ninja rises and growls at you, but you stand your ground. As he lunges, you sidestep and use your lowered center of gravity to grab his arm and flip him over your shoulder, slamming him hard into the concrete.

Leo stares at you in awe. "Y/N! That was amazing!" He seems to notice your fierce protectiveness of him and smiles softly.

You help him to his feet, blushing. "I couldn't let him hurt you. Now let's finish this!"

Side by side, you and Leo rejoin the fight. It feels so natural, moving in sync with him as you take down Foot ninja after Foot ninja. Your curves make you surprisingly agile and powerful.

With your added help, the turtles manage to beat back the Purple Dragons and Foot clan, sending them retreating into the night. You all cheer and high five in victory.

"That was so cool how you just jumped in like that, Y/N!" Mikey says excitedly. "You were all fierce and BOOYAKASHA!"

"Our girl's got some moves!" Raph agrees, giving you a fist bump. Donnie pats your back proudly.

You smile shyly at the praise. Your eyes find Leo's and he is gazing at you with open admiration. "Y/N, you were incredible. Thank you for having my back. You're a true part of this team."

Your heart soars at his words. "I'll always have your back, Leo," you say sincerely.

On the way back to the lair, Leo insists on carrying you again, even though you aren't tired. Not that you're complaining. Being held in his strong arms is something you could get very used to.

When he sets you down in the lair, he keeps his hands resting on your waist. "What you did tonight... it showed me a side of you I've never seen before. Your strength, your bravery, how you didn't hesitate to protect me."

He looks deep into your eyes. "Y/N, I've been wanting to tell you something for a while now. The reason I get so protective of you is because...I care about you. As more than a friend. I have feelings for you. Strong feelings."

You stop breathing. Is this really happening? "You do? But why? I mean, look at me..." You gesture helplessly at your curvy figure.

Leo cups your face tenderly. "I am looking at you. And I see a beautiful, courageous, amazing woman. Your body is perfect the way it is. Soft and strong. I love your curves." His thumbs stroke your full cheeks. "I love every inch of you, inside and out. And if you'll have me, I promise to show you just how much every single day."

Tears fill your eyes at his heartfelt declaration. "Oh Leo... I feel the same way! I've always loved you!"

Beaming, Leo pulls you flush against him, your soft chest cushioning his hard plastron. "Yeah?"

You nod shyly and he grins. "Then allow me to make up for lost time..."

He leans in and captures your mouth in a passionate, loving kiss. You melt into his embrace, finally feeling fully accepted and cherished exactly as you are.

In Leo's arms, with him kissing you like you're his whole world, all your insecurities fade away. He loves you, curves and all.