#signal boost the shit outta this

[v-the-nomad]

Persia,

Fuck me sideways, chica. Just when I thought I'd caught a break, shit hits the fan again. Got the coupling fixed with a hotwire job - not pretty, but it'll do. Was about to delta outta this dustbowl when who shows up? The local sheriff, Andrew fuckin' Jones.

This gonk's got a stick so far up his ass, you'd think he was trying to become a tree. Ex-military hotshot turned small-town tyrant. Typical NUSA bootlicker with a hard-on for corps. Kept eyeballin' me like I was about to rob the whole town blind. Pendejo.

Now I'm in deep shit with my fixer, Willie McCoy. Missed the rendezvous for a cargo run into Night City. Client's some merc named Jackie Welles - wants to move "merchandise." Don't know what kinda merch, don't care. It's my ticket into the city, and I need those eddies to kickstart my new life.

But here's the kicker - my ride's antenna is more fried than my brain after a night of Cenzón. Can't reach Willie for shit. Thinking about scaling the Yucca telecom tower, see if I can boost the signal. It's a long shot, but hey, when has that ever stopped me?

Wish you were here, Persia. You'd probably have this rust bucket purring like a kitten by now. Miss your magic touch with tech… and, well, just you.

Gotta jet before Sheriff Stick-up-his-ass decides to make my life even more interesting.

Stay free, V

P.S. If you ever pass through Yucca, do me a solid and slash Jones' tires, yeah?

[sunnymeddows]

Hey so I have a transfemme friend who is being super duper abused by her soon-to-be ex-wife. The ex-wife is still Mormon and is saying all these horrific things about my friend which anyone who knows her knows isn't true.

Please signal boost the hell outta this!! She's in such a shit situation.

Her Ko-fi

[physics-duck-says-quark]

Thread I saw on FB tonight re: giving context to Australian 2019/2020 Bushfires

[tiniest-hedgehog]

Friendly reminder that I have a GoFundMe running around the web trying really hard to help me raise money for top surgery. I’ve added more details in the space below if you’d like it, otherwise, click here to find my page.

What is "Top Surgery"?

Top surgery is a blanket term for the procedure that is performed on transgender individuals in order for their chest area to be more aligned with or resemble that of their gender, rather than their sex. For me, top surgery takes form in what is called a double incision mastectomy with free nipple graft. I'll get into exactly what those words mean down below, but in summary, this procedure will remove the breast tissue, mammary glands, and residual fat on the sides of my chest with the goal of creating a more masculine appearance. Why is Top Surgery necessary? As I am only one person, I can't speak for any other transgender person but myself nor do I want to. So, for me this procedure is necessary in order to alleviate what is known as gender dysphoria. This is a state of severe depression and anxiety surrounding the way my body looks in comparison to other, cis-gender men's (men whose sex is male) bodies. I cannot stress enough that gender dysphoria is not the same as "regular body image problems", as it is not only much more psychologically powerful than other struggles with body image, but there is an added component that makes it seem as though my body is not my own. Dysphoria is something that has caused me to cancel plans with loved ones and with friends on several occasions, has made it a daily fight to leave my house, and has often led to extreme depressive episodes, anxiety attacks, and paranoia.

Gender Dysphoria is very hard to explain to those who do not experience it themselves, but I would be happy to talk with you about it in private if you are struggling with the concept. Having this procedure will also offset the cost of garments that I purchase in order to currently alleviate dysphoria, as well as prevent the possibility of medical problems in the future due to wearing said garments. On a daily basis, I wear what is called a chest binder. This is a garment that is often made of spandex with a panel made of hardened cotton and polyester that works to compress the breast tissue and make the chest appear flatter. Since I have a larger amount of breast tissue, my binder isn't able to completely "masculinize" my chest and there is often still a bump as if I have smaller breasts and am simply wearing a sport's bra. Not only does this not completely alleviate the more severe symptoms of dysphoria I have, but binders are extremely expensive long-term. One chest binder, on average, costs $35 to $40. However, due to the amount of use they go through and how large my chest is, binders are only truly effective for two to four months before the spandex stretches out and they become glorified sport's bras. That means that I'm purchasing, on average, three binders a year. Multiply that by 60 more years and I'll be spending an average of $7,200 on binders alone. Chest binders also come with an increased risk of lung and back problems and struggles with muscle growth in the chest and upper back over the long term due to the way they are designed.

To summarize, Top Surgery for me is a necessary procedure because it will alleviate the more severe symptoms of gender dysphoria that have caused insurmountable damage to the way I interact with other people, as well as offset the long-term cost and effects of chest binding by completely eradicating my need for chest binders after this procedure. Who is My Surgeon and What Will She Be Doing? I have chosen Dr. Sidhbh (Pronounced "Sih-ve") Gallagher as the surgeon running this procedure. She graduated in the top 3% of her class at University of Dublin's medical school and became a board certified general surgeon in 2015. She completed her plastic surgery fellowship at IU Medical School and became board certified as a plastic surgeon. She focuses on gender-affirmation surgeries such as the procedure I'm looking to undergo, and has performed countless gender-affirmation surgeries. The procedure that I will be undergoing is called a Double Incision Mastectomy with Free Nipple Graft. You can find more information about this specific procedure here. The reason I chose Dr. Gallagher as my surgeon is because she is not only located close to my family - having her practice based in Indiana - but she also performs a unique version of this procedure where the use of drainage tubes is rendered completely useless. As anyone who has had this surgery knows, drainage tubes can often be an uncomfortable (and smelly) part of the post-op care for this procedure. Not only would there be tubes in my chest and the appropriate drainage containers taped to my sides while my chest heals, but the inclusion of the tubes raises the risk of infection. With the drainless version of this procedure, the skin has a better chance of growing more naturally with my chest muscle should I decide to build it, the risk of infection is much lower since the incision sites will be fully closed, and the level of discomfort I will feel post-op will be much lower. Where Will Your Money Be Going? Currently, the United States medical system still views transgender healthcare as being cosmetic, meaning that most insurance companies deem procedures related to transgender healthcare to be unnecessary and will not cover them. Unfortunately for me, my insurance company is one of many that shares this view of transgender healthcare and will neither cover any aspect of the procedure nor my time with Dr. Gallagher pre or post-op. This means that I will be paying for this procedure entirely out of pocket - a huge expense for anyone. The current maximum cost of the procedure + expenses is $10,000. Expenses include:

I've set my goal at $1,000 for the moment so that I am more likely to reach it. If I do not reach this goal, your money will be refunded and I will start from the beginning once again. The fees I have listed above are only their current numbers, and if I wait too long those prices will go up. It is extremely important that I reach my goal in order to afford this surgery, as it would be completely life changing and would have a tremendously positive impact on my life and the way I interact with those around me. Thank you so much for your consideration in donating. If you have any questions, please feel free to reach out to me on Facebook or through this page. All the love, -Jordan

[tsukinohimeusagi]

Quick PSA

Idk if any of you play FFXIV Online, but I wanted to come out of my hiatus to let y’all know about shady af people, namely two that I’ve come across.

🔥If you are on the Primal data center, listen up!🔥

Keep an eye out for Envy Lilum of Ultros and Echo Redflame of Famfrit (this happened very recently)

Both of them have caused nothing but trouble, from being transphobic and saying inappropriately sexual things to people who are known to be married/in a relationship (Envy), to attempting to blackmail and dip home worlds without paying people for the housing design services someone did (Echo), as well as going against the free company they were supposedly a part of (Echo again).

Envy plays a female midlander, and is usually afk in Limsa Lominsa. They’re the leader of Noir Mercinaries, and their fc tag is <<GRIM>>. They like to prey on new players, aka sprouts, and say they’ll help them through content, but they really just want people to get comfortable enough for them to try and flirt and do sexual things.

Echo plays a sun cat boy, and just recently moved from Ultros to purchase an FC house for the venue they run. Instead of siding with the fc they were a part of on Ultros, they went behind everyone in the fc’s back, took items and Gil from the fc chest, demolished the home someone had just finished decorating for them, and moved to Famfrit. The fc didn’t hear about it until they were well on their way to finding a personal house for themselves. This was before they had paid any money to one person and a sum of over 500k to another for services due.

Please be careful while trying to enjoy your game time. I really don’t want people, even strangers, having to stress and deal with these people like I have. They’ve caused nothing but grief and stress whenever interacting with them. Definitely be extra careful around Echo, as they like to turn things against you and play the victim.

[babyboibucky]

oh btw thought you could help me! I got this fic that I read some time ago but forgot to like/reblog and now I can’t find it anywhere it’s driving me crazy!! it’s fuckboy!Bucky being the ultimate tease, sending videos of him masturbating using a fleshlight and all to reader while she’s in class! it’s kinky af but dammmmmmn if it’s not hot 🥵

really if you could help, me and my coochie would owe you big time!

OMG I HAVE NOT READ THIS YET BUT I NEED TO SEE THIS WKSJWKSJSLE

Can anyone help us please???

[a-mish-mash-of-fandom-trash]

Apparently it's the EUs turn.

First America tried to break the internet via net neutrality, now the EU has Article 13. Nobody is talking about it, and July 4th is fast approaching. This will hurt everybody who uses the internet, not just people in the EU!

Fanfiction, fanart, memes, let's plays, walkthroughts, anything to do with copywrited materials will be screened. While protecting someone's intellectual property rights is important, this is not the way to do it!

Even if you aren't in the EU, spread this. Make it an issue, it's not too late. If you are in the EU, get in contact with your representatives (or whatever the equivalent is!) tell them how you feel. As the public you have that sway! We saved it once guys and apparently we're going to have to do it again!

[lupiiifics]

Lucky To Love You

Fic #2 Posted on AO3 on October 1, 2021 for Luzeni Friday on Twitter.

A/N: I swear my stories aren't going to be formatted like this. It's just that I formatted it to fit AO3 so I wasn't sure how to split the chapters here. I didn't want to post them separately, so this is how I did it. Hope it's not too jarring. Next story will be posted on October 8, 2021.

Summary: Zenigata and Lupin agree to a date in Lupin's jail cell. Some hijinks occur, but it's mostly just pining and fluff.

Word Count: 6,988

Chapter 1:

"He's coming."

Goemon appeared between Lupin and Jigen's shoulders, the first sign of him being the hilt of Zantetsuken. His hand gripped the shoulder of the seat in front of him, and Lupin looked back just in time to see blue lights flashing in the distance.

" Shit . How do you do that?" He asked, glancing at the samurai. "I thought we'd have a clean getaway tonight, but it looks like Pops has other plans."

"I thought you kept this one secret? How'd he find us?" Jigen asked.

Lupin shrugged. "Dunno. That guy has some sixth sense when it comes to us."

"When it comes to you , you mean," Jigen corrected. He pulled his Magnum from its holster and popped the chamber to count the amount of bullets. "Want me to take care of him?"

"Maybe. How many are there?"

Jigen turned in his seat, peering past Goemon to stare out the back windshield. "It's just him and his lacky. No one else."

Lupin nodded, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. "Hold off for now. I'll signal you when I need you to slow 'em down."

Jigen lowered his hand but didn't put away his gun. "What're you plannin'?"

Lupin waved a hand in front of them, steadily accelerating to try and outrun their pursuers. They were fast approaching a large copse of trees, the plush green blur becoming clearer as the seconds passed. "I'm gonna try and lose them."

"You sure?" Jigen angled his head upwards until one of his eyes was visible, his bangs peaking through to frame his face. "I could at least stall them."

"Don't waste your ammunition. Save it for when we really need it."

Jigen shrugged, leaning back to kick his feet up on the dash. He pushed his hat down over his face again and stuffed a cigarette from his pocket into his mouth. "Suit yourself. Just don't complain to me later when he catches you."

"He won't catch me," Lupin said, matter-of-factly. "I'm Lupin the Third!"

"That hasn't stopped him before," Jigen muttered. “That guy can’t resist putting his handcuffs on you, can he?”

Lupin grinned, glancing through the rearview mirror again. “Hey, I can’t help being irresistible. It comes with the charm of being me!”

The blue lights were fast approaching, as was the forest. He slammed on the breaks and pressed the clutch to the floor, shifting down until he felt the car catch enough to turn. He jerked the steering wheel, pressing Jigen up against the passenger side door, and throwing Goemon against the back seat. He came up with a glare on his face, his fierce stare peering at him through the rearview mirror.

“You could have warned us,” Goemon said, gripping Zantetsuken. The debris from their sudden shift fell through the sunroof, covering each of them in fallen branches, leaves, and dirt. Lupin ignored the yells of protest coming from his two partners, pressing down the small dirt road in hopes of losing Zenigata. The blue lights still stubbornly pursued them, however, a permanent fixture in the reflection of his mirrors.

The sound of the sirens mixed with the sound of crunching metal as long grey streaks appeared along the sides of his precious Fiat. He pressed his cheek against his window, watching as the trees scratched his car. “ Fuck . Pops is gonna owe me for this one.”

“Ain’t the first time I’ve heard you say that,” Jigen drew a pull from his cigarette, blowing the smoke out through his nose. “You gonna actually hold him to it, this time?”

Lupin leaned forward, shifting as he accelerated deeper into the forest. It was a bumpy ride, throwing each of them around the car as the forest grew more narrow.

“Hush you,” Lupin said. He leaned over, not taking his eyes off the path ahead of him. “Gimme a taste of that, would ya?”

“Thought you hated Marlboros?”

Lupin craned his head, shrugging. “Can’t really pull one of mine out right now, can I? I’m driving.”

Jigen huffed. “Fine. Here.”

He held the cigarette out and allowed Lupin to suck on the end of it. As soon as he pulled away, he crushed the cigarette between his fingers, shoving it into the car’s ashtray and pulling another from the pocket of his jacket.

Lupin laughed the smoke forward to filter against the windshield. It rose overhead and escaped through the sunroof. “Grumpy much, Jiji?”

Jigen ignored him, lighting his brand new cigarette. Goemon leaned forward between them again, his face grim and his hair dotted with leaves and spots of dirt.

“The car will not last,” he said, indicating their slowing speed with the hilt of his sword. “Zenigata will catch up.”

Lupin looked between the samurai and the speedometer. “What? No! She can’t give up on us now!”

Jigen held up his Magnum again, eyes glinting with obvious mirth. “You want me to slow them down now?”

The car began to sputter, dying like a star at the end of its lifecycle. “I’m not sure there’s much point. Looks like we’re running from here. Goemon, you got the stuff?”

Goemon held up a duffle bag full of loot, the pockets glimmering with various pieces of gold, silver, and whatever else they could find that they deemed worth enough to take. He hefted it against the top of one of his shoulders, hopping through the sunroof right as the car came to a stop at the end of a clearing. He drew Zantetsuken in one fluid motion, sending the surrounding trees crashing to block Zenigata’s pursuit. They could hear the inspector yelling on the other side, obviously frustrated to be stopped in his goal of catching them.

“LUPIN! Move these trees, dammit!”

“Sorry, Pops!” Lupin shouted over the chaos. “But I’ve gotta run.”

“Oh no you don’t!”

Zenigata exited his police car and began climbing the fallen trees. When Jigen and Goemon saw this, they began to back away.

“Whelp, I’m outta here. You comin’, Goemon?”

The samurai nodded. “I’m right behind you, Jigen.”

Lupin turned to follow them, but found his arm restrained by a familiar set of handcuffs. He looked back, and found Zenigata half slumped over the trees, grinning at him with a thick rope clutched between his fingers. “I’ve got you now, Lupin!”

Lupin turned toward his friends, watching as they continued to run away from him. “Wait, no. Guys, help me !”

Jigen gave him a sympathetic look while Goemon remained stoic in their escape.

“Sorry, boss,” Jigen said, “but we gotta keep the goods safe, right?”

“No! You’ve got to keep me safe, you bastards!”

Jigen ignored him. “We’ll be sure to give you your share when you escape, okay boss? See ya later!”

“What?! No. Jigen , get your ass back here.”

They disappeared out of the clearing, leaving Lupin alone with Zenigata and Yata. Lupin slowly turned to find Zenigata standing behind his shoulder, tugging his hand up to grin at the cuffs.

“Thought you could escape from me, did you?” He asked. He untied the rope and grabbed Lupin’s other hand to trap behind his back. “Now you’re coming back with us to the station.”

“Aw, but Pops. Tonight was supposed to be a quiet night. I didn’t even send out a calling card.”

“I don’t care!” Zenigata beamed, his face absolutely alight with pride. “Wherever you go, I follow, remember?"

Lupin hunched his shoulders and blew out a defeated sigh. "Normally I'd call that romantic, but with you I'm not so sure."

"Call it whatever you want. You're not getting away this time, Lupin ," Zenigata said. He turned toward the pile of trees and pulled Lupin along with him. "Yata! Come help me load our prisoner."

"Yes, sir!" Yata poked his head up from where he had climbed the trees, reaching an arm down to do just as Zenigata had asked. "Boost him up. I’ll pull.”

#

Zenigata fumbled with his cellphone, struggling to dial the number of his police chief. Yata did his best to help him, but there wasn't much he could do for a man as stubborn as the Inspector. Lupin watched helplessly from the back seat, listening as the two bickered.

"Just let me dial the number—"

"No, I already told you I got it. Here, look. See? It's ringing!"

Zenigata held the phone gleefully to his ear, a large grin spreading across his face. Yata's expression was a little less enthusiastic, exhausted against his superior's relentless tenacity.

Zenigata didn't notice this. His voice was bright as he said, "hello? Chief? Yeah, we got 'em! We caught Lupin. We're transporting now."

Lupin had already slipped his cuffs, but his escape was thwarted by this car's lack of back-door handles. This wasn't Zenigata's typical police car. It didn't have a sunroof either.

He wrapped his arms around the headrests of the seats in front of him, leaning to poke his head between the two police officers. Yata jumped when he noticed the thief, while Zenigata ignored him and finished his report.

"We'll be there in an hour. Have his cell prepped and ready for me, alright? Yes, sir. I'll give you the full run-down once I have Lupin locked up tight."

"Sir—" Yata sputtered, staring wide-eyed at Lupin. He held his hand to his holstered handgun, ready to use it if Lupin decided to try anything hasty. Zenigata remained calm as he felt Lupin snake his hand around his left shoulder. He simply said his goodbyes, hung up the phone, and turned to look at their prisoner.

“You slipped your cuffs,” he said, voice flat.

Lupin held up the cuffs in question, hanging them off the top of his forefinger. He grinned. “You know me, Pops. I’ve never been one to be restrained.”

“I beg to differ,” Zenigata said. “Seeing as I’ve got you where I want you, and we’re heading back to the station now.”

Lupin shrugged and fell back against his seat. "I'll find a way out of this. I always do. You got a smoke?"

Zenigata grumbled, much of his initial enthusiasm gone from his body language. He rummaged through his pocket for his cigarettes and lighter, pulling one out, lighting it, and handing it back to Lupin. Yata stared at him as the cigarette left his lips, his entire face twisted in confusion.

"You're actually giving him one?"

Zenigata shrugged. "They haven't been tampered with, so why not? Not like he'll get many opportunities in prison anyway."

Yata slumped his shoulders. "You're too kind, Inspector. He's a thief!"

"Hey, just ‘cause he’s a thief, doesn’t mean I can’t treat him with respect.” Zenigata said.

Yata sighed, and Lupin laughed at the reserved look on the young police officer’s face. This earned him a glare worthy of Goemon, and Lupin’s laughter only got louder.

“Zenigata, with all due respect, you’re hopeless…”

#

His cell was at the back of the police station, past the rows of office desks, people, and officers. The room was dark and windowless, with lights that were controlled by whoever was guarding him. The cell door was heavy and automated, with no obvious control panel, nor way Lupin could conceivably hack it. He realized then that this cell had been specifically created to contain him, at least temporarily, until they could figure out a way to keep him from escaping. It was kind of impressive actually, until he realized the reality of what that would mean.

“You’ve been doing your research,” Lupin said, looking around. There was a bed suspended by wire in the corner of the room, and a mirror and toilet behind a wall for him to use.

“Told you you weren’t going anywhere,” Zenigata said. He pressed his hand against the back of Lupin’s shoulder, pushing him forward into the cell. “Welcome to your new home, Lupin~”

Lupin was beginning to panic, though he hid it under a veneer of careful planning. He straightened the orange jumpsuit they’d forced him into. Anything to make him look, and feel, composed. “ Temporary home, you mean. You know I’ll bust outta here eventually.”

Zenigata smiled at him and started to turn to leave the cell. “Whatever you say, Lupin.”

Lupin stumbled forward, unaware of the movement until it was actually happening. He caught Zenigata’s wrist in a plea to get him to stop. “Wait.”

“What?” Zenigata raised a dark eyebrow at him, turning to stare at their intertwined arms. “Do you need something?”

“Let’s make a deal.”

“A deal?” Zenigata shook his head, pulling away. “I don’t make deals with criminals, Lupin. You know that.”

Lupin was desperate. “A bet then. If I can make it through a week, you have to go on a date with me.”

Zenigata’s face flushed red and he took a step backwards. “A date ? Are you out of your mind?”

“Probably,” Lupin said, “but anyway. What do you say? Will you accept?”

Zenigata pressed his back against the cell door, face still flushed with what Lupin thought was embarrassment. “Don’t you have Fujiko? Or Jigen? Why would you want me ?”

“Why wouldn’t I want you?” Lupin asked, genuinely surprised. “You’re my rival , Zenigata. No cop in the world has ever managed to capture me for more than a night, and you’ve done it more than I can count. You’re my equal .”

“What about the others?” Zenigata asked. “Won’t they be angry?”

Lupin waved a hand. “Nah, they won’t care.”

Zenigata spluttered. “But isn’t that… cheating?”

“ Zenigata …” Lupin stared at him, a smile slowly growing to meet his eyes. “People can be polyamorous.”

“R...Right.”

Lupin edged toward the inspector eagerly. “So? What do you say?”

Zenigata rubbed his face. He was silent for several moments, seemingly going over the pros and cons in his head.

“This isn’t some plan to escape, is it?”

Lupin shrugged. “That depends. Where will the date take place?”

Zenigata scanned the room with his eyes, a plan slowly forming in his mind. “Here.”

“Really? How?”

“We’ll figure it out,” Zenigata said, “but we’re sure as Hell not doing it anywhere else.”

Lupin drooped his shoulders, disappointed that his idea hadn’t quite worked how he expected. “Aw, you’re no fun.”

“Just be glad I’m gonna let you do this at all.”

“So is that a yes?”

Zenigata looked like he was about to sign his soul away. He exhaled and rolled his shoulders. “ Yes , but only if you make it a week. Otherwise, the entire thing is off.”

Lupin shouted his excitement, throwing his arms around the inspector’s shoulders. “I’m looking forward to it!”

Zenigata allowed Lupin to nuzzle into his neck for a moment, enjoying the contact as much as he could allow. A moment later, he pried the thief off of him, and missed the warmth of his arms almost immediately. “Seven days,” he said. He held up seven fingers. “One week from today, or the date’s off.”

Lupin saluted him loyally, stepping back with a grin bright on his face. “Yes, sir! One week.”

Zenigata gave Lupin a small smile, stepping to turn back to the door. He paused for a width of a second, expecting something else, but the only sound he heard was the squeak of Lupin’s bed as the prisoner climbed into it. He wasn’t sure why he was disappointed as he left the jail cell. There shouldn’t have been anything else he was expecting.

#

As soon as the door closed, and Lupin was sure Zenigata was gone, he tugged at the edge of his ear until a small earpiece popped out into his hand. He played with the contraption for several seconds, bending and contracting it until he had it how he liked it. Then he hooked it back to the plastic by his ear, and grinned when he heard the other end pick up.

Jigen sounded tired as he answered, and Lupin wondered if he had woken him. “Boss?”

“Hey, Jiji . Listen. I need a favor.”

Chapter 2:

Report #1, Zenigata Koichi. Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department:

“Day one of Lupin’s imprisonment was an overall success. Lupin himself was cooperative. He answered my questions, followed orders, and did his best to seem like a perfect prisoner. Most of his first day was spent lounging on the bed. When I asked if he needed anything, he requested extra blankets. This seemed to be for comfort, as he used them as pillows and laid one over the sheets on the mattress. Otherwise, there is nothing else to report. He asked me for details on the date, and I hesitated to answer. I’m still not sure what I’m feeling over our bet, but my heart keeps skipping beats. Maybe I should go see a doctor?”

Report #2, Zenigata Koichi. Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department:

“Day two came with a string of complications, none of which seemed to affect Lupin or his seemingly unwavering determination to make it through this week. I hadn’t expected him to be so positive throughout this experience. So far he’s been nothing but smiles when in the past, it was always grandeur and posturing. I feel like he’s hiding something from me, though I can’t figure out what. I will get to the bottom of it, however. He can’t hide from me! I know all his secrets. Also… he called me ‘handsome.’ I’m not sure if that’s information I should share in my reports, but I can’t stop thinking about it.”

Report #3, Zenigata Koichi. Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department:

“I think his facade is starting to crack. When I approached his cell at the beginning of my shift, I found him shouting orders to the men guarding his door. Of course, this stopped once I announced myself. The men wouldn’t answer me when I asked what he had been shouting about. Instead, they told me it was nothing and, even when ordered, ignored me when I asked them to tell me. I entered Lupin’s cell angry, which was a mistake, because he caught me off guard with a hug from behind. I was so startled that I threw him off. Of course, he laughed about it. Sometimes I forget how damn good of a man Lupin can be. It takes a lot to piss him off. Apparently throwing him against a wall isn’t enough to break him down.”

Report #4, Zenigata Koichi. Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department:

“Day 4 and I think Yata has finally given up on me. He refuses to work with me on Lupin’s imprisonment, instead choosing to pursue the other three. So far, he hasn’t made much leeway. I warned him that this would be the case. Lupin might have screwed up by allowing himself to get caught, but Jigen and Goemon are a whole other monster when put together. And who even knows what’s going on with Fujiko? Lupin doesn’t seem to know where she is, but he’s not concerned, so neither am I. I instructed Yata to keep looking, if only to keep him from judging me. He seems disappointed in my deal with Lupin. Personally, I don’t see the issue with it if it keeps him in jail. We’ll have to see how it goes. That is, if Lupin makes it through all 7 days and Yata stops sighing whenever he looks at me.

Lupin was just as sugar-coated as usual today. He kept asking me opinions on things we could do during our date. I’m not sure if that was his way of flirting with me or if he was simply trying to make small talk. He does seem fairly sincere in his affections, but Lupin is like that with a lot of people. I don’t know if I can trust him. The men cheered when I exited the cell and I found several post-it notes with words of encouragement at my desk. I’m not certain I like what they’re all getting at.”

Report #5, Zenigata Koichi. Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department:

“We ran into our first actual issue with Lupin today. He seemed oddly defeated when I visited him in his cell, though he put up a facade almost as soon as he noticed me. Otherwise, he was energetic. I don’t know if being in the cell is starting to take its toll, or if he’s accepted his future imprisonment. He wasn’t lying when he said I’d done my research. The cell itself is tailor made to keep him contained, plus it’s at the back of the police station. If he were to escape, he’d have to go through me and every officer on duty in the office. He might be a master thief who had escaped from impossible odds time and time again, but everyone has their limit. He is just one man, and as far as Yata has told me, there’s no sign of Jigen or Goemon on their way to save him. As far as I can tell, they’ve abandoned him. Maybe that’s why he’s so listless? He’s probably missing his partners. I’ll try my best to make him happy during his time here, if only to wipe that hurt puppy look off his stupid monkey face.”

Report #6, Zenigata Koichi. Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department:

“I can tell Lupin is trying to come up with a way of escaping after our date in two days. He was restless when I found him this morning. I don’t think he’s really slept since I caught him, and while that shouldn’t concern me, it does. I tried asking him about how he was feeling, and he just dodged the question. I wonder if this is what he’s like with all of his partners. Is he open with Jigen, Fujiko, and Goemon? Or does he thrive on hiding behind a mask? He seems to be trying to convince me he’s fine, but I can see he’s not. I don’t think he likes being alone. He thrives off of other people, but I can hardly let him around other prisoners. It’s not that he’s particularly dangerous. He’s rarely even violent. He’s just flighty. If I let him anywhere but the bath house and his cell, he’ll get too many ideas and be out of my hands before I even know it. Maybe that’s not a risk right now with our date at the end of the week, but it becomes a risk as soon as that date is over. I’m not sure if this entire thing is just some elaborate scheme to take advantage of me, but he does seem to actually like me. I keep asking what it is he sees in me, an old police inspector, and he keeps saying the same thing. We’re destined rivals, which means we’re destined to be together.”

Report #7, Zenigata Koichi. Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department:

“The date is tomorrow night, which seems to have revived Lupin’s spirits a bit. He gave me a hug again when I entered his cell, though he waited until I could see him before actually doing it. This time, I didn’t throw him off me, though part of me kind of wanted to. I just can’t wrap my head around what’s happening here. We’re on the opposite sides of the law. I shouldn’t have this pressing need for him to be nearby, but I do. I’ve tried so long to push these feelings aside, or to channel them into capturing him, and now that I have, I don’t know what to do with myself. I’ve started to realize that this is the way it’s always been. That my desire to capture him was more than just my job. It was personal, and I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do about that. The men seem supportive, with the only detracting person still being Yata. He seems to have overall accepted the fact that this is something that’s happening. I don’t know how to explain to him why I have to do this. Hopefully, he’ll eventually understand.”

Report #8, Zenigata Koichi. Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department:

“I still think Lupin is hiding something from me, and when I tried to ask about it, he once again ignored me. For now, I’m giving up on figuring it out by focusing on tonight. Lupin seemed over the moon when I talked to him about it this morning. I’m mostly nervous. I’m getting off an hour early to go home and prepare. The men seemed excited for me. They kept cheering me on about it. They even got Yata to join in, though he seemed embarrassed. It makes me happy to finally see him come around. Yata’s still new to this. I think it’s taken him a while to understand that the life of someone like us is not all about catching criminals. Sometimes, it’s about capturing them and then going on dates with them. I still can’t believe I agreed to do this.”

Chapter 3:

Zenigata pulled up to the police station embarrassed.

He was dressed in a dark brown pinstripe suit, with a pristine white dress shirt, a cream and gold striped tie, and an old pair dress shoes. He felt oddly stuffy when walking into the station. Like he looked out of place. Most of the people on duty complimented him as he passed, and suddenly he wished he had not gone without his hat. At least with it he could hide, and maybe get rid of this feeling of wanting to flee. This was Lupin’s reward, after all. He couldn’t back out now, not when the thief had buckled down and done what he had promised to, anyway.

He noticed about halfway through the office that most of his colleagues wouldn’t look him in the eye. Normally this wouldn’t be something that bothered him. He could be intimidating, especially to younger officers, based on his title alone, but this was different. People he’d worked with for years didn’t quite meet his gaze. They dodged his questions, welcomed him and asked him what he had planned, but they didn’t look at him. It got to the point that he thought something was wrong with the way he looked, and a wave of self-consciousness washed over him once again.

The only outlier was Yata, who led him back to Lupin’s cell with the same smile he always had on his face. He treated Zenigata as he normally did, and for the moment, that helped to calm him down.

“Is something wrong?” Zenigata asked as they passed the rows of desks.

Yata shook his head. “I don’t believe so. Why do you ask?”

“It’s just that everyone seems to be acting weird.”

Yata shrugged. “It’s not everyday a police inspector has a date with a world-renowned criminal. I’m not sure it’s surprising that they’re acting differently.”

Zenigata shifted the basket he had brought with him to rest under one of his arms. “You’re not mad at me, are you?”

Yata looked back, holding out his keycard, but not actually scanning it against the hidden scanner quite yet. “No. Why would I be mad?”

Zenigata rubbed his neck. “Well, I know this isn’t quite what you expected when you agreed to become my partner.”

Yata laughed and it surprised him. “With all due respect, sir, nothing we’ve done so far has been what I was expecting. It’s been fun though, and I hope we continue to work together.”

“So you’re really not upset at me?”

“No. I thought it was odd at first, but then the men reminded me that this is always how it’s been between you and Lupin.”

Zenigata was astonished. “That’s not true…”

Yata smiled. “Are you sure? From what they tell me, you’ve always been smitten with him.”

“That’s… okay, probably true, but I don’t know if ‘always’ is the word I’d use.”

“Whatever you say, Inspector.” Yata scanned the keycard, and punched in a code that was linked to his work phone. “You ready?”

Zenigata sighed, looking down at himself and the basket. He looked back up to Yata and nodded. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

The feeling of nervousness was so strong his chest hurt. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting as Yata opened the door. Maybe it would be empty? Maybe this was how they discovered how Lupin had played them? Maybe it would be normal? He didn’t know.

What he wasn’t expecting was the sound of music, the smell of scented wax candles, or the shuffle of feet as Lupin rushed to finish whatever it was he was preparing. He stepped through to see the thief turn on his heel, greeting Zenigata just as the door to his cell slammed shut behind him.

“Pops! Welcome!” Lupin swung his arms aside to showcase what he had been working on. It was then Zenigata noticed that both the room, and Lupin, had been transformed to match that of some fancy French restaurant. There was a tall circular table in the middle of the room, covered by a bright white sheet. On this table sat a basket of red wine and two crystalline glasses, as well as two tall candles and a single red rose in a vase. On the floor near the table was a small black cassette radio playing a song Zenigata didn’t recognize. It said,

“ I ain't got any worries

And I ain't got any money

But luck seems to follow

Wherever I go

When you said hello

My luck disappeared

You didn't even know I cared. ”

Lupin wore a black three piece suit, fancier than anything Zenigata owned, with a white ruffled blouse, and shiny silver cufflinks. He was so surprised by this, he didn’t even hug back when the thief wrapped his arms around his shoulders. His mind was too preoccupied with trying to figure out how he’d done this, along with processing just how good Lupin looked in that suit.

“What is this?” Zenigata asked, voice weak.

Lupin pulled away from him and smiled. He led Zenigata to the table, and pulled out one of the two chairs for him to take. “Our date,” he said. “It’s not much, but I hope you like it.”

“How? How did you do this?”

Lupin’s smile turned into a grin. He picked up the glasses and placed one in front of Zenigata. “I enlisted the help of your men. They planned everything. All I did was order some stuff for Jigen to drop off. Like this wine, or my favorite suit.”

“They… really? Is that why they wouldn’t look at me as I was walking in?”

Lupin shrugged. “I guess they didn’t want to ruin the surprise. What do you think? Did they do a good job?”

“It’s perfect,” Zenigata said, still shellshocked. “Wait, did you say you’ve spoken to Jigen?”

“Yes, but not about escaping. I’ve kept my promise.”

“That’s not what I’m concerned about. I just want to know how.”

Lupin looked guilty, and pulled at something at the top of his left ear. A thin flesh colored piece of metal appeared between his fingers and Lupin held it out to show him. “This is how. It’s an antenna with a builtin speaker and microphone. I connect it to this,” he removed another piece by his ear,  “and I can talk to whoever it’s connected to like a cellphone.”

“Shit, didn’t think of that,” Zenigata said. He wasn’t really surprised. With the amount of contraptions Lupin had on his person at any one time, it was impossible to be alarmed by missing something.

Lupin’s expression of guilt shifted to pride and he grinned. “Clever isn’t it? I came up with it for situations just like this.”

“You came up with it for dates with police inspectors?” Zenigata smiled, watching as Lupin’s expression shifted once more into disdain.

“Quit being facetious. You know what I invented it for. Now drink your wine.”

Zenigata nodded and picked up his glass. “About that. You said Jigen dropped this off? How’d he do that without being caught?”

Lupin took a sip of his own glass, tipping it toward him. “He disguised himself as one of your officers. Said something about finding everything I asked for dropped off at the door with a note attached saying, ‘For Lupin.’”

“And they didn’t notice?”

Lupin bobbed his head. “What can I say? There’s truly no one out there like you, Pops.”

“Koichi.”

“Hm?”

“For tonight, call me Koichi. This is a date, isn’t it?”

Lupin laughed. “Yes it is. Doesn’t that mean you should call me Arsène?”

“Do you want me to?” Zenigata asked.

Lupin hid his face in his glass. “I wouldn’t be against it, though I cannot remember the last time someone called me by my first name. It might have been right before my grandfather died. I can’t be sure.”

“Well, Arsène , if it’s any consolation, I don’t remember the last time someone called me by my first name either.”

Lupin shivered and placed his glass back down on the table. “Okay, that’s gonna take some getting used to. It doesn’t even sound like my name anymore.”

“I can call you Lupin instead if you’d like.”

Lupin shook his head. “Nah, if it’s coming from you, Koichi. It’s fine.”

Zenigata smiled. He leaned forward in his seat and took another sip from his glass. “Alright, but we go back to normal after this. I don’t know how the men would react if they heard you calling me Koichi.”

Lupin nodded. “And I don’t know how Jigen would react if he heard you call me Arsène. He might actually kill me. He gets kind of touchy when it comes to things like that.”

“I don’t think Jigen would be capable of killing you,” Zenigata said. “One, you’re well… you and two, he loves you too much.”

“Oh he’s capable, alright. If Jigen wanted to, he’d be able to take me out in mere seconds. Luckily, as you said, he loves me.”

“A lot of people do,” Zenigata said.

Lupin leaned forward. The look on his face was wide and cocky. “Is one of those people you, Koichi ?”

The way Lupin purred his name gave Zenigata pause more than the actual question did. He found himself spluttering for an answer, his entire face flushed and bright red. “I… well . Yes. I suppose so.”

The song playing over the radio had long since repeated itself, playing softly to aid the thoughts running through Zenigata’s mind. Now it said,

“ Lucky-I can't be lucky in love

All my four leaf clovers

Can't do me no good

Funny, just when I needed to be lucky

Couldn't help but lovin' you

Lovin' you… ”

Lupin repeated the last of the lyrics in a whisper between them, wineglass all but forgotten and Zenigata the main focus of his attention. He reached forward and plucked the inspectors hands up off his lap, rubbing calloused thumbs over the top of both of them.

Zenigata stared at their entwined hands, and couldn’t help the thrum of emotion from rising deep within him. He almost felt like crying. He wasn’t quite sure why.

Lupin noticed this and smiled at him. He leaned farther forward, close enough that Zenigata could smell the wine on his breath. “I haven’t gotten a chance to tell you this yet, but you look wonderful tonight, Koichi. I wasn’t even expecting you to come dressed up.”

“I couldn’t very well show up in my regular clothes now, could I? Just because it’s been a while, doesn’t mean I don’t remember how to prepare for a date.”

“I wouldn’t have minded,” Lupin said. “You’re perfect no matter what you’re dressed in.”

“That’s not true, but thank you anyway, Arsène.”

Lupin looked scandalized. “It is true, but you’re welcome.”

Zenigata felt awkward, but he plowed forward anyway. “You… you look nice tonight too. So nice in fact, I think I short circuited when Yata let me into your cell.”

Lupin giggled and nodded his head. “I noticed that, though I wasn’t sure if it was me or if it was everything we’d managed to sneak in.”

“It was both,” Zenigata said. “Though you were a big part of it.”

“Even in jail, I clean up pretty nice, don’t I?” Lupin looked down at himself and back up at Zenigata. “They even let me shave.”

“I can tell, and yes. You’re probably the most beautiful person I know.”

Lupin looked genuinely touched. “Even compared to Fujicakes?”

Zenigata nodded. “She doesn’t even begin to hold a torch to you. I promise.”

“Hey, Fuji-chan’s a knockout. Don’t underestimate her looks.”

“Don’t underestimate yours either,” Zenigata said. “You’re gorgeous, you know?”

“So I’ve been told,” Lupin smiled. “Hey, Koichi. I have a question.”

Zenigata dipped his head. “Yeah?”

“Can I kiss you?”

Everything stopped, and the blush returned to Zenigata’s face. That song kept up it’s chorus, saying,

“ Couldn't help but lovin' you

Lovin' you… ”

“Yeah…”

Lupin inclined his head, letting go of Zenigata’s hands to press his own against his cheeks. His lips were soft as they met the inspector’s, sweet like wine and cherry chapstick. For several moments they stayed like that, lost in a world of warmth, love, and that happy song playing in the backdrop. Zenigata’s heart raced as the time went on, but he couldn’t bring himself to pull away. The kiss felt so right against him that he wished it would go on forever. The rush of air between them tickeled as their breaths quickened, and their tongues slid together through parted lips. It was like nothing Zenigata had ever experienced. Like lightning in a bottle or the unmistakable feeling he got during a car chase.

When they pulled apart, he wanted to go back in. When Lupin smiled at him, he did. The second kiss was faster, more passionate, but just as sweet. They pushed against each other, fighting for dominance. For a time, it was unclear who would break away first. It seemed to go on endlessly, but at long last, it was Zenigata who broke contact.

They came up from the kiss huffing into each other’s faces, out of breath but grinning like school girls. Lupin snuck his chair closer to Zenigata, and wrapped his arms around his back to bury his face in the inspector’s neck. He sighed heavily, purring almost like a contented cat.

“I’m glad we made that bet,” he said. “I had a really nice time tonight.”

Zenigata hummed and allowed himself to nuzzle his nose against the thief’s shoulder. “I did too. We should do this every time I catch you.”

“Thought I wasn’t getting away?” Lupin chuckled, and Zenigata felt it bubble between their chests.

“You’re not,” Zenigata said. “But in the case you do, I’m going to be extra determined to get you back.”

Lupin’s chuckled turned into genuine laughter, and he pulled away just enough to see Zenigata’s face. They were close enough that their knees pressed together, the fronts of each of their chairs practically touching. “Challenge accepted,” he said. “Though we don’t have to save these dates for every time you catch me.”

“Yeah, but where’s the fun in that?” Zenigata asked.

“Hey, the chase and date themselves might be fun, but I’d actually like to take you out sometime.”

“I wouldn’t be against that. This turned out to be more than I was expecting.”

“Is that a good thing?” Lupin asked.

Zenigata nodded and pressed his lips against Lupin’s forehead. “It’s the best.”

“Good,” Lupin leaned down onto his shoulder again. He grew heavy until, that is, he noticed something. He perked up. “What’s that?”

“What’s what?”

Lupin broke away from him to grab the basket Zenigata had deposited beside his chair. He held it out. “This.”

Zenigata slapped his forehead, having completely forgotten about his basket. He took it from Lupin and placed it on the table, opening it up and dropping its contents around the candles and rose. The moment he pulled out two containers of cup noodles, his electric kettle, and bottles of water, Lupin lost it. He nearly fell out of his chair laughing, and for a moment Zenigata grew defensive.

“What are you laughing at?”

The laughing continued. “Why…why did you bring cup noodles?”

“It was all I had.”

“But we’re on a date .”

Zenigata was confused. “So? They’re good and easy to make. There’s not much we can do in a jail cell so I had to improvise.”

“Yeah, but cup noodles? You could have ordered something from a restaurant and brought it with you.”

“I didn’t think of that,” Zenigata said. “And anyway, why does it matter? Why’s it matter what we eat?”

“It doesn’t,” Lupin said. “It’s just so incredibly you . I’m not sure what else I was expecting.”

“I’m not sure what you were expecting either.”

Lupin continued to laugh. “You realize the wine I asked for isn’t cheap, right? Wine and cup noodles. It’s so… perfect .”

Zenigata began to put his supplies away, offended by Lupin’s reaction. “If you don’t want ‘em, I’ll leave. Maybe this was a mistake after all.”

Lupin threw out his hands to stop him. “ No . No. Don’t go. I'm sorry. I’m not mocking you. It just caught me off guard, that’s all.”

“I can order something too if that’s what you’d prefer. I’m sure Yata would—”

“No. Make the damn noodles, Koichi. I’m sure they’ll be delicious.”

Zenigata slowly started to place his supplies back down on the table. “You’re sure?”

Lupin nodded. “I can’t wait to tell Jigen about this. He’ll get a kick out of it.”

“Alright,” Zenigata said. “I’ll be sure not to bring noodles with me on our next date.”

Lupin shook his head. “But you have to. At this point, I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”

“You’re enjoying this too much.”

“Perhaps, but it’s only because I love you.”

Zenigata stared at him, all the emotions of the past hour rushing back to flood his brain.

“I love you too,” he said, along with the chorus of that song, and the chuckles of his thief reverberating throughout the jail cell.

[gar0uu]

changed by the unchangeable (part 1/?) story will be continued on my wattpad!!

word count: 2,112 or sum

My stomach was in knots as I walked through the cafeteria. Every. Single. Time. 

It was always the same, the stares.  

Mom says, “They’re curious.”  

Well, Mom can go fuck herself.  

Of course, I had gotten used to it now. The prying eyes, the fucking snickers.

“Why does she walk like that? Does it hurt? I feel bad for her.” I hear a laugh.  

One) It doesn’t hurt. Two) Fuck your pity. My whole life I've been pitied. Pity can suck my dick. And so can they.  

I looked straightforward. You know, after looking at your feet your whole life, it gets tiring. I stared those motherfuckers right in the face, raising my eyebrows. This is when they all look away.  

I smile to myself. They’re so confident until I make eye contact. It’s laughable. A bunch of cowards.  

I made my way over to a table with two boys. Only empty table.  

“Hey,” I said. “Can I sit here?”  

“Oh, I don’t know...there’s a line waiting to sit at this table. We’re pretty popular, you know,” one of the boys spoke. His eyes were playful. He was pale, had chocolate brown hair. He looked weak.  

The boy next to him was staring at the table, hunched up. Trying to make himself look invisible. Knew that feeling all too well.  

He looked up at me, and he had that look in his blue eyes. Fear. He had a scar on his upper lip, when he saw me looking at it, he self-consciously reached his hand up to cover it.  

“Don’t worry. I’m not judging,” I smiled.  

He stared and I sat down.  

The other boy, the weak one, said, “that’s Eli. A man of few words. I’m Demetri.”  

“Nice to meet you guys.” I said my name.  

“You know,” Demetri smiled, his eyes glittering. “Eli was talking about you before you came over here. I think it’s fate.”  

Eli groaned. “Shut up, Demetri! I was not!”  

A quiet, cowardly voice. I was that person once.  

I chuckled. “It wasn’t mean, was it? If it was, I might have to beat your ass.”  

I raised my brows at the blue-eyed boy.  He shook his head quickly.  

“No! I wouldn’t.”  

Demetri laughed. “Nah., He thought you were pretty, though.” He wiggled his eyebrows teasingly.  

Eli quickly covered his face with his hands. “Demetri!”  

I held back a smile. “You’ll have to take a number, then. I got men and women linin’ up for me.”  

I leaned back against the chair, laughing at my own joke.  

“I’m sure,” Demetri rolled his eyes.

“Hey! You don’t believe me? Loser. Tch.”  

I heard a chuckle and looked over toward Eli. He was laughing.  

My heart jumped. Oh, you have to be fucking kidding me. He’s just a boy.  

“Oh, did I make the man of few words laugh? Guess you’ll have to pay me now.”

“Pay you? For what?” Eli shook his head, still laughing.  

“For my comedic services, obviously. It’s hard being this funny.”  

He smacks his teeth. “Oh, yeah? So, there isn’t a 101 Funny Jokes book in your bag?”  

I gasp, pretending to be hurt. “How could you? Getting my amazing jokes from a book? I’m just natural.”  

I looked over to Demetri, waiting for his sarcastic reply. Instead, he was silent, looking over my shoulder. He elbowed Eli.  

“Shh! Kyler’s coming over here.”  

Eli went silent as well, going back to his shell.  

I laughed. “Kyler. Who the fuck names their kid Kyler? Kinda feel bad for the dude.”  

Demetri made pleading eyes with me, mouthing, “shut up!”

“I see you guys have made an addition to the loser table,” a voice said behind me, laughing.  

I turned. “Who the fuck you calling a loser? Have you looked into the mirror lately?” I sneered at him. He had a pathetic Mohawk, black hair. His face looked punchable.  

“Hey!” Demetri whisper-yelled. “You’re gonna get your ass beat.”  

“Yeah, yeah,” I dismissed him with my hand. “Like to see this bitch try.”  

“I see you have an attitude, bitch. Looks like I need to put you in your place,” Kyler said and I stood up, grinning.  

“I’ve heard worse, from better.” I spat. “Fuck outta here.”  

“I don’t take orders from cripples.” He laughed, signaling his goons. “Get her.”  

Cripple. Cripple. He called me a cripple. I’ve heard that word so many times you’d think it wouldn’t affect me by now.  But it does.  

“You’re DEAD!” I snarled, with such hate in my voice, they all took a step back. “Fucking dead.”  

I walked towards him; his eyes full of surprise. Someone must’ve never told him off.  

I reared my fist back, using all my might and hit him square in the nose. He stumbled back, surprised and fell on his ass. While he was down, I straddled him, making sure he couldn’t get up. I balled my fist again, this time hitting the side of his face. I planned to break his teeth.  

I don’t know how many times I hit him. Next thing I knew, I was staring at a white ceiling. I looked around blinking.  

My head was pounding and my left hand felt broken.  

“What the...”  

“You’re awake. You passed out after the fight. You broke Kyler’s nose and knocked out three of his teeth. Suspended on the first day of school,” a woman said next to me.  

I looked over and saw a name tag, Nurse Kathy. An old lady, her hair graying. Her eyes were tired.  

I smacked my teeth, sitting up. “Only three teeth?”  

She gasped. “Are you serious? You did some serious damage, young lady! You should apologize to Kyler.”

I looked at her, and scoffed, “he’s a damn bully. I’m not apologizing for shit. When someone calls me a... cripple...” I grimaced. “They deserve everything they get from me.”  

“It’s just a word,” she replied.  

I whipped my head towards her and stood up. “So, if I call you a cunt, it’s just a word, right?”  

Her mouth formed an O shape and I ground my teeth together. “I'll take my leave.”

“Hey!” She yelled, “you can’t just leave!”

I ignored her, walking out. I had to find Eli and Demetri anyway.  

===

“Hey! Eli, Demetri!”  

They were standing at the bus stop, talking quickly.  

 “What the fuck was that? Now they’re gonna be aft-”  

“Demetri, shut up. She saved our asses. You should be thanking her.”  

I was surprised at Eli’s interruption of Demetri, and even more surprised when he put his arms around my waist, hugging me.

“Thank you,” he muttered. “Thank you.”  

“Y... you’re welcome? Um... I...”  

“What is it?” Eli separates himself from me, his hands on my shoulders. “You okay?”  

I nod my head. “Yes. I just wanted to say, I know what it’s like.”  

His eyebrows furrow in confusion, so I continue speaking.  

“I know what it’s like to be afraid of every person around you. Thinking they might make fun of you. I know what it’s like to want to give anything to change, one, single part of you. You’d give anything and everything, I know.”  

He brings his hand up to his lip again, but I grab his wrist.  “Don’t. It’s cool.”  

“You don’t know anything,” he sneers and I step back.

“Eli-”  

“Get away from me! You don’t know shit!”  

He turns and grabs Demetri’s arm. “Let’s go.”  

Demetri looks back at me, worried. I smile and jerk my head, signaling for him to go. I sigh.  

“Alone, once again,” I mumble.  

Do things ever change?

Eli

The girl’s words swirled in my head while laying on my bed. I was restless.  “I know what it’s like to want to give anything to change, one, single part of you.”  

My mind went back to her leg. Is that what she was talking about? Her limp? Kyler’s face comes to view in my mind. “I don’t take orders from cripples.”

When he said that... I almost got up. I was angry. But then, I saw her face. I saw that flash of grief in her eyes before it turned to rage. A rage that scared me to the core. I squeezed my eyes shut. I felt horrible for saying those things to her. I should’ve known better. She’s probably the only person in the school who understands how I really feel.  

Sure, Demetri relates. But he doesn’t understand. To not be able to cover up something you’ve had your whole life. You’d give anything and everything. Like she said.  

I groaned and rolled over, her face occupying my dreams.  

===

“Hey! Lip! Fuck-face.” I heard Kyler’s voice and groaned internally, but kept walking through the halls.  

“Guess your little cripple girlfriend isn’t here to help you now,” he mocked. I was pulled backward and my back slammed against a locker. I looked down.  

“She isn’t a cripple,” I mumbled.  

“What’d you say?” Kyler taunted.  

I thought for a moment. When she fought against Kyler, I was jealous. Jealous of how confident she was, how she carried herself as she walked over to our table. How easily the word fuck and bitch came out of her mouth. I thought of what she said.  

“Don’t worry. I’m not judging.”  

“Don’t. It’s cool.”

I thought of her eyes. The fire in them, that immediately drew me in, like a moth to a flame. I wanted to have that flame too.  

I want that flame too.  

“I said, she isn’t a cripple. You, on the other hand... she crippled your fuckin’ face.” I grinned.  

Kyler’s eyes widened, at least he tried to widen them, he had a black eye, the side of his face purple. His bottom lip was swollen.  

“I’m gonna fucking ki-”  

“Hey! Do I really gotta beat you to a pulp, AGAIN? Have you not learned your lesson, boy?”  

I looked over Kyler’s shoulder and saw the one and only. Was it just me, or had she gotten prettier overnight?

I shook my head.  

Kyler was silent as he ran off. She flicked him off behind his back before turning to me and I looked down.  

“Where’d that boost of confidence come from, Eli? I like it.” She grinned at me, putting her hand under my chin to lift up my head.

“Did he hurt you?” She examined my face with her prying eyes, and I went hot.  

“N-no...” I turned my neck, to get away from her curious look.  

She frowned. “What’s the matter? Your face is all red.”  

I took a deep breath and looked at her. She was inspecting me. “You aren’t, um, mad at me for yesterday?”  

She beamed at me. “No, dummy. I probably... went too far. I mean, I had just met you and I was already scrutinizing you. So, I’m sorry.”  

“No, don’t apologize. I was rude. I should be sorry.” I smiled sheepishly at her.  

She chuckled. “Nah. Let’s get to class. No apologizing.”  

“But-”  

“No buts either!” She laughed.  

I laughed with her. “Alright. Can I at least thank you for saving my ass?”

“You can pay me. No, I’m kidding. But seriously, where’d that confidence come from? ‘She crippled your fuckin’ face?’ That was cool as hell.” She looked at me expectantly.  

“It came from you.” I spoke. “The confidence. I’m honestly jealous of how confident you carry yourself. How do you do it?”  

She burst out laughing. “Hmm... A magician never reveals their secrets.”  

“Oh, come on! Please...!” I playfully pouted, making puppy dog eyes and she giggled.  

“Who cares? We’re all gonna die, you know. So, why give a flying fuck about people who won’t matter in 5 years... Except they’ll remember you, as the person who put them in their place.”  

She grinned and her eyes, honestly, scared me. They were cold and dark.  

She raised her eyebrows. “Hell, in a few years, those same people might even be working for you. They’ll call you Boss. And you’ll give them their pay. Bullies are pathetic and insecure. Are you really gonna let little bitches affect you? Put them in their place.”  

I stared at her.  

“You are the coolest person I’ve ever met.” I blurted.  

She looked surprised before chuckling. “I know. Anyways, I gotta get to class, mmkay? Think about what I said, real hard. It’ll be hard, at first, changing your mindset; but once you do, it’ll be the best thing you ever did, you know, besides meeting me.” She giggled and I scoffed playfully. “Adieu.”  

I watched her walk away.  

Time to flip the script.  

~~~

yes this is sort of a self insert cuz no one writes for bitches with limps. except me cuz i am one. yea, ur welcome. also im in love with hawks. *punches him in the face with love*

[sinditia]

Starker Fic - The Way It Goes - Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

My self-indulgent fix-it fic continues, taking place during the events Spider-man: Homecoming.

Read it on AO3

Tony is currently sweating under his white tunic in a surprisingly humid Indian morning.

It was an impulse thing, deciding to show up to the wedding of the first daughter of the COO of Stark Industries’ New Delhi branch. He always gets invited to these things out of courtesy but he usually sends them a generous gift, a card, and an ostentatious bouquet of flowers. He never actually shows up. He doesn’t think anyone expected him to show up and he chortles a little knowing how much panic he caused everyone by RSVPing as yes.

Pepper had not been pleased.

“Are you trying to make me look bad?” she said crossly on the phone with Tony. “You got board members feeling like they have to show up to this thing just because you’re going and people keep asking me if I’ll be attending and you know I already have plans this weekend-

“I swear to God, you and your plans had nothing to do with-“

“-you have any idea how disruptive all of this is? Sadiq is under so much pressure already and-“

“He’s under so much pressure? If he didn’t want me to come, he wouldn’t have invited-“

Anyway Indian weddings are great. There’s awesome food, there’s people dancing like it’s a proper party, and the ceremony was beautiful. If being on the other side of the world also meant he had an excuse to dodge certain calls from certain Secretaries of State and avoid the press hounding him about his breakups both to his CEO and to the Avengers, then that’s just the cilantro on the tikka masala.

Tony had barely finished congratulating the radiant bride and groom when F.R.I.D.A.Y. started beeping insistently in his ear, going off about a distress signal coming from the Spider-man suit he had given Peter.

Tony did some quick mental calculations as he excuses himself to walk outside. It’s late at night in New York, Peter could be on patrol- Wait, shouldn’t he be at that party?

“Boss, the suit seems to be submerged in water, tracking shows him to be in the middle of Meadow Lake, and there’s increasing hydrostatic pressure exerted on the suit, currently at 1.2 atm and climbing,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. says urgently.

“Alright, deploy Mark 47. Get him outta there, Fri.”

On the lenses of his glasses, Tony monitors the progress of his remote-controlled armour and Peter’s vitals through his suit, his anxiety increasing along with the kid’s PCO2 levels.

“Come on, thruster boost,” Tony mutters, pushing his suit to fly faster.

Tony watches through the Mark 47’s helmet as it plunges into the water, untangles Peter from the parachute he’s trapped in and lifts him out.

Peter splutters in his hold and Tony breathes a sigh of relief.

“Mr. Stark! They shot him! They- We gotta go back! He’s-”

“Hey, whoa, whoa, calm down, kid-”

“-bleeding out. I tried to stop it. I called an ambulance but-”

Peter is squirming way too much and the armour dumps him as soon as they’re a safe distance over ground.

“Mr. Stark, he’s- we gotta make sure he’s okay. There was so much blood, I couldn’t-”

“Hey, hey, breathe for a moment, Pete, come on. Slow down. What happened?”

Peter takes a deep breath, trembling in his soaking wet suit. Tony activates the instant-dry heating mechanism on the boy’s suit. “I was – oh, thanks, Mr. Stark, that’s so much better – There was some kind of meeting, like a weapons deal. These guys were showing off the alien guns like at the ATM robbery to like, a buyer, I guess? But they- He didn’t seem into it and I was just about to web them all up and oh God, Mr. Stark, it’s all my fault- they just shot him!”

“You said you called 911?” Tony starts scanning nearby radio frequencies.

“Yeah, but then this guy with wings showed up out of nowhere and just like swooped in and picked me up and dumped me in the lake! I didn’t get a chance to- oh shit, I don’t even know where my phone went-”

Tony locates what must be the ambulance Peter called. “They’ve got him, kid. They’re taking him to Flushing Medical Center. It’s out of your hands now.”

“Is he alive?”

“I don’t know. They’re taking him to a hospital. That should be a good sign. You have other things to be worried about. Like, what the fuck are you doing?”

Peter has the audacity to gape at him. “What the fuck am I doing? I was gonna take them down!”

“‘Take them down’? You realize you almost drowned? We have people to handle shit like this. I thought Happy told you to let it go. And then you wait until I’m on another fucking continent to almost get yourself killed-” Tony doesn’t realize how bad his hand is shaking and he clenches his fist, trying to hide it. Jesus, the idea of anything happening to Peter, wearing the suit that he made him-

“It’s not like I did it on purpose!”

He really isn’t getting it, is he?

“Pete, you almost died. You almost got someone else killed. Just … please. Let this go. Don’t go chasing after trigger-happy thugs with unstable weapons.”

Peter starts up his protestations again, but Tony interrupts him.

“Kid, I don’t wanna hear it. Go home. Get yourself safe. End call.”

Tony huffs out a ragged breath as soon as he disconnects. His chest feels heavy, the thudding of his heart feels painful, like it’s punching bruises against the inside of his ribs. The humidity seems to be pressing in on him from all sides and he’s having trouble breathing properly. Is he having another anxiety attack? He hasn’t had one of those in a while.

So much for vacation in the tropics. Tony calls for his car, planning to drive straight to the airport. If Peter’s going to keep pulling this kind of shit, he doesn’t want to be caught on the other side of the world for it.

--

Three hours, two thousand miles, and half a milligram of Xanax later, Tony has mellowed out enough to shoot Peter a text.

<< Sorry I yelled at you and hung up like that

<< You really scared me, kid

It’s past midnight in New York, but Peter’s reply comes in a few minutes after.

     >>I’m sorry I worried you

There’s a pause as Peter types up his next text.

     >>I think the bad guys dropped one of their weapons. I found it on the way home. What should I do with it?

Tony commends the growth Peter is displaying for telling him about it instead of going off on his own. Maybe if he makes the kid feel like he’s more involved in things he’d be less likely to go rogue.

<< Bring it over to the Tower

<< We’ll take a look at it together

--

Tony accesses S.H.I.E.L.D.’s encrypted server and pulls up schematics for a Chitauri gun, projecting it into a standing hologram.

“Whoa, cool,” Peter breathes. “Is that from the Battle of New York?”

“Yep. It’s a weapon of the Chitauri. There were a bunch of these scattered around the city when we were done and I guess we didn’t pick them all up in time. Scavengers, you know. But these guns need a link to the Mothership. The Chitauri are a hive mind and apparently that connection extended to their weaponry. Once the Mothership blew up, everything went non-functional.” Tony gestures to the thing Peter brought to the lab, now sitting on a workbench. “Now tell me what you’re thinking with that.”

“Um. Well. Most of this stuff looks familiar. There’s all these microprocessors connected to this glowy thing, which is the one thing that doesn’t look familiar. It looks like some kind of power source that I’m guessing comes from that Chitauri weapon? Like these guys are combining alien tech with ours?”

“Right in one.” Tony takes the bastardized weapon and starts taking it apart with some pliers, prying out the glowing, purple, egg-shaped energy core. He places it under a desktop scanner, the holo-monitor above it immediately churning out line after line of data readings. He picks up the coreless husk of the weapon and points out different parts of it. “The trigger blasts it with radiation and the energy core releases a wave of electrothermal energy, which gets focused through this regulator, and out the barrel.”

“So it’s like a plasma cannon?”

“Sure. Something like that. It’s shitty workmanship though. Even worse than Hammer’s, which is saying something. You don’t need to worry your pretty little head over it though. It’s a federal case now. They’ll be the one taking these guys down.”

Peter doesn’t say anything to that, still examining the bastardized weapon on the bench.

“Do you hear me, Peter? You’re not getting involved in this. It’s out of your hands.”

“Yeah, I know. I hear you.”

“‘Cause you’re doing that thing people do when they have no intention of doing what someone tells them to. I’d know, I’ve done it a million times.”

Peter looks up at him with a small smile. He taps the workbench with his index finger and says, “I solemnly swear that I will not get involved.”

Tony narrows his eyes at him, sensing that there’s a reference in there somewhere but refuses to get sucked in. “Alright,” he says.

Peter is quiet for a while. Then he says, “I went to the hospital to see the guy they shot.”

Tony is surprised at that. Wasn’t the guy they shot like a crook? “Yeah?”

“Yeah, his name is Aaron Davis. He’s alive. They took out the bullet and everything. Tore up some arteries, that’s why he was bleeding so much. Missed his liver by like half an inch. I met his nephew in the waiting room. And … I don’t know, I guess I’m projecting. It just brought up a lot of … bad memories.”

Ah. Tony had done a pretty thorough background check on Peter before that fateful recruitment. He knows what happened to Peter’s uncle not long after he started the whole Spider-man gig two years ago. He knows what happened to his parents long before that. He knows a thing or two about losing parental figures early in life, knows exactly the kind of complexes it could bring about.

“And Miles said – the nephew – he said that Aaron wasn’t even supposed to be there. He owed people some money and they sent him over to close the deal. But even then … Even then, he didn’t want to do it. He was trying to stop them and … and they shot him.”

Peter has a faraway look on his face, like he’s haunted by the memory of that night. “My uncle was shot trying to stop a robbery,” he says quietly. “He wasn’t supposed to be there either. I was supposed to be the one getting the milk and eggs or whatever. But I was … goofing off somewhere, I don’t know. I could’ve prevented it. I should’ve.”

“It’s not your fault, Pete.”

Peter gives him a wry smile. “Do you really believe that? ‘Cause I think if you were in my position, you would absolutely think it’s your fault.”

Well, he’s got him there. Tony is the poster-child for internalizing blame and personal responsibility. And Peter has obviously heard those platitudes before.

“When I was kidnapped by the Ten Rings, there was this other guy being held hostage with me. His name’s Yinsen. He’s the one who hooked me up to a car battery after the explosion and saved my life. Then he saved my life again when he helped me escape. Got himself killed in the process.”

“I read about that,” Peter says quietly. “I can’t even imagine what that must’ve been like.”

Tony shakes his head. He still has nightmares about that cave sometimes, when he’s not having nightmares about dying in outer space. “Point is, people die. You don’t mean for them to, but you feel like the decisions you made led to circumstances where they do. The outcome may have changed if you just did something different, or it may not, there’s really no sure way of knowing. You can’t change the past. You learn. You look forward and constantly try to do better. It’s the best way of honouring their memory, I think.”

Peter sighs. “You’re right. I know you’re right. And I try to learn, I do. But I panicked. When they shot Aaron that night I just…” He shudders, breathing hard.

“Hey. Peter,” Tony places a hand on his shoulder, bringing him back to the present. “He’s alive, like you said. Your quick thinking saved him. You called the ambulance and they got there in time.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Peter looks up like he just remembered something. “Oh my God, my phone! I lost it in the lake. I must’ve dropped it when I got dropped in there.” He looks utterly dismayed about it.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll get you a new phone. I think I got some new shipments of the latest Stark around here somewhere. Besides, can’t have my intern running around with something made by a guy named ‘Steve’”

“Really?” Peter says, surprised. “Thanks, Mr. Stark. That’s awesome!” But he still looks a little down about it.

“What?”

Peter shakes his head. “No, it’s just … I had some stuff on that phone.”

“What, like contacts? Just sync it up. Even that iPhone abomination of yours still has cloud services.”

“Yeah for contacts and stuff. But um … there’s videos …”

“So? Just go to PornHub like a normal person.”

Peter rolls his eyes. “They’re not porn videos, Mr. Stark. They’re um … videos of you and me-“

The corners of Tony’s mouth twitches into a smile. “not doing porn?”

“No,” Peter says exasperatedly. “It’s when we made that alibi video in your car on the way back from the airport. I just …” He’s kinda cute when he blushes. It brings out his freckles. “It’s nice to have a video of us together.”

Tony chuckles. “Why’d you need a video? You got the real thing right here.”

“I don’t know. It’s just nice. You know what, never mind. Forget I said anything.”

“Alright, how ‘bout this? You set up your new phone and we’ll take another video. You’d probably need another alibi for your ‘Stark Internship’ anyway, right?”

Peter grins. “Okay.”

“Ooh let me print out some certificates. We’ll take some photos with those.”

--

The ferry was split clean in half. Tony had arrived at the scene of the carnage to find Peter almost getting torn apart limb from limb trying to hold the entire thing together.

Afterwards, Tony finds Peter sitting morosely on the rooftop of a building. He’s taken off his mask and the wind whips through his brown hair. Tony steps out of his suit and joins him.

“Is everyone okay?” Peter asks quietly.

“Yep, no thanks to you.” Tony knows it’s a low blow. There’s nothing Peter’s afraid of more than getting people hurt. But Tony’s beyond pissed. He doesn’t know how else to impress upon him how utterly stupid he was being. If Peter doesn’t care about his own well-being, then maybe he would care about other people’s. God, he was going to be sent to an early grave out of worry for this kid.

“I wasn’t gonna get involved, I swear! I was just gonna watch, make sure everything goes smoothly. I told you I … I’ve seen them shoot a guy in cold blood, I just didn’t want anyone to get hurt.”

“So why the hell would you jump in and spook the guy if you know what they’re capable of?!” Great, Tony’s hands are starting to shake again. He holds his wrist, trying to stop the trembling.

“He was taking out his gun!”

“And you didn’t think the dozen FBI agents surrounding them could handle it? You had to swoop in and save the day?”

“I was just trying to help!” Peter insists.

Unable to hold back, Tony grabs the sides of Peter’s face and presses his forehead to his. At least that got the kid to shut up. “Pete, for fuck’s sake,” Tony says, closing his eyes, trying to make him understand, to somehow psychically transfer his feelings of fear, worry, and relief through the touch of their foreheads. He pulls back and looks into Peter’s bewildered, brown eyes. “I can’t have you doing this. I can’t- If you died…“ Tony rests his forehead against Peter’s again and sighs. “If you died, I feel like that’s on me. I can’t have that on my conscience.”

Tony lets him go and turns his back to him so Peter can’t see how close he is to falling apart. He wipes a hand over his face in frustration. He doesn’t know what to do.

“I’m sorry.” Peter’s voice is small and barely heard over the wind.

Tony turns to glare at him. “Sorry doesn’t cut it. I want you to be better than this.”

Peter looks down dejectedly. “I know, I know. I just … I just couldn’t stand by and watch something like that happen.”

Tony regards him mournfully. Too much heart has always been the kid’s problem. “You know who you remind me of? Steve Rogers. That guy doesn’t know how to back down from a fight either, doing what he thinks is right. And while I love you for it, you both have the same short-sightedness. It’s like you can’t look further than what’s within punching range. Sometimes it’s not just you and the bad guy that’s put right in front of you. You gotta be able to stand back look at the big picture. And sometimes … sometimes you gotta be the bad guy in order to keep people safe.” Tony sighs heavily. “Look, I don’t think this is working out anymore. I’m gonna need the suit back.”

Peter looks devastated. “My suit? For how long?”

“Forever. I don’t know. You’re obviously not ready for it. It’s making you reckless, making you feel like you’re invincible when you’re not.”

Peter’s eyes are wide and pleading. Tony’s heart breaks for it, but if Peter gets hurt, really hurt, then there’d be nothing left of his heart to break. “Please, Mr. Stark,” Peter begs. “I’m nothing without this suit.”

“Well then maybe you shouldn’t have it,” Tony snaps.

Peter is struck dumb at that. Tony hates how he’s starting to sound.

“Peter, I told you the feds were handling this. I told you to stay out of it. You promised me you would. Whatever I ask, you seem to do the exact opposite and it gets you in trouble. So for once can you just … do what I say and give me the suit?”

Peter looks like he still wants to bargain. He’s searching Tony’s eyes with his, trying to find some way to soften his resolve but Tony stands firm. Finally he says in a quiet voice, “I don’t have any other clothes.”

“Okay, we’ll sort that out.”

Part 5

[persephone-is-here-omg]

That person who sent you an ask bitching about Bhutan is mad wrong and knows next to nothing about the Bhutanese. The only thing slightly true there is probably overlooking the Nepali expulsion, but things are getting better between the two countries, though I am unsure if they are allowed to (or want to) return. Though I know Nepalis who work and visit Bhutan and aren't descriminated against. Their Royal Family even celebrates Dashain and other Hindu festivals. They don't openly talk about it and I doubt in schools, but so does every single other country that has walked this earth.

Tbfh with you as much as I like studying royals, monarchy is wack, but I have to tell you that the Bhutanese monarchy is nothing at all like cliche tyrannical medieval dictators. This is ONE instance where Kings and the government are nowhere near stinky. Bhutanese culture deeply admires their Kings because they have given them no reason to otherwise, dead stop. I will die on this hill. Would that asker seriously prefer if Bhutan spilled over into civil war and were constantly discontent with their government? Orrrrr be proud and happy (excuse the pun) for being Bhutanese and for the guidance of the Wangchuck dynasty? Because they clearly do not understand that there is no reason at all to speak ill of them even if people wanted too. This is not comparable to the over mediatized Windsors. Monarchy works for them and their culture. That asker just has to deal. I have hundreds of Bhutanese friends (I aint kidding you man, they are super friendly on socials) who will say that they are not fucking oppressed or whatever the heck that asker was trying to push. How dare they assume North Korea of all things too lmao. Those laws are not punished by labor camps, fuck outta here. And tbf some of those laws are good, like drinking and smoking. There are lgbt movements and laws are being made to protect their rights. I have three Bhutanese friends who are IN SAID MOVEMENTS. So fuck outta here with them being backwards. High tech things? What??? Hell my friend Tshoki who lives in the Laya Highlands has technology. Piss off.

And lastly (I swear), how and why the heck do they have a problem with Ghos and Kiras??? I would take that fabulous traditional clothing over anything anyday. And to make them happy, it is not as popular with younger gen as their warped mind thinks it is. Losing culture is shit, don't twist that. They already prefer learning English over Dzongkha, don't take away their clothing too.

Sorry this got long lmaoooo

2/2 And while we on this, how the hell are they going to talk about Bhutan as if it were el diablo and seamlessly leave out China the actual dictatorship next door???? I seriously have a headache

TBH, I don't really know anything about the situation in Bhutan. I have no idea. What really pissed me off about that anon was the guilt-tripping, you know? My country, Venezuela, is fucked. We are fucked. Right now, I have been relying on my phone's data for over a week, is expensive as fuck. I've called my internet provider FOR DAYS and haven't got a solution yet. And there are many, many things worse than this that could go on and on about. And yet, when I do, I don't go around manipulating people into feeling guilty because they don't know/decide to not share things about my country. As I've said before, you get farther with people by asking them to signal boost a post or posts or suggesting to them to read about x, y, z subjects than sending them anons where you bitch at them for not being absolutely 100% aware of every little thing that happens in the world at all times.

[solesurvivorpaigeargot]

BTW if I follow you and you post a creative work, be it writing, art, cosplay, whatever, I'm gonna reblog it. Period. Even if I don't read the story, or its not my favorite ship, or whatever else. I join fandoms to spread the love, and if I was offline while you posted a thing and I missed it? PLEASE slip into my messenger box and link me. If I'm following you I WANT TO SUPPORT AND SIGNAL BOOST YOU... but I'm also an airhead so if you got shit you're proud of and I missed it? Poke me. Poke the crap outta me.

[yaz-the-spaz]

Signal Boost - New Account Alert

hey there, soooo not sure how many of you have heard but a big ziam IG account @analyzingziam_ got hacked recently and unfortunately their account was deleted 😢 in case anyone who might’ve already known about it was worried, i’ve talked to them and they’ve assured me they’re doing okay all things considered and right now they’re just trying to remain positive and optimistic as they start over. 

they’ve since made a new IG account @analyzingziam so if you already followed them (or even if you didn’t) hop on over to their IG and give ‘em a follow (and some love!) and also please help signal boost the shit outta this to spread the word, spread the love/support, and help them get some of their followers back :)

[h3lls1gm4]

hey, so uhh

mom and I and sis and her family are getting kicked out of the house by my step dad's parents in two weeks, please signal boost if you can't donate! mom and I are going back down to utah to live with my grandmother but in order to get there, we'll need funds for gas, food, and a hotel room for a night or two. my uncles are coming up with a u-haul so we can pack all our shit and get outta here

[dyketectivecomics]

John and Zee with number 35 from the lyric meme

oof, wounded is one of those songs that has so many Moments™. like, its a magicblazer song but, oh man. sometimes i Wish it wasn’t lmao. this ficlet went in a slightly different direction than i initially wanted. and thats OK bc lord knows i needed SOMETHING to work thru those zatara feelings i got yesterday. but it was a lil unexpected

…

As the magician slammed the door in his face, Constantine knew he had effectively put his foot in his mouth one time too many.

Still, he was nothing, if not persistent. And maybe a bit of an idiot.

“Please, Zee, I didn’t mean it like that.”

Her voice was muffled through the door, as she mumbled enchantments in an attempt to soundproof it. Despite her best efforts, John could feel the house’s will fighting against her.

Or maybe fighting with him. He could never be sure. The House of Mystery didn’t seem to favor him as much as it did Zatanna these days. But maybe, at least in this instance, they had a common goal.

To make her at least a little less upset again.

He tried the doorknob one more time, frowning as it held fast and as the door only shook slightly at his efforts to open it. It rattled in its frame again, as shadows shifted under it. He could only take a guess that Zatanna was sitting now against it, as her sniffling could be heard through the door. The sound itself was quiet, but deafening to John’s ears. He sighed, resigning himself to sitting and leaning, pushing back against that very same door as he tried once more to apologize.

In his own, roundabout way, naturally.

“We both know I’m shit outta luck when it comes to empathizing with you about your dad,” he started, letting his head fall back against the wood. “But all of this… this moping around Zee? It isn’t really you. It’s… it’s like walking with the wounded.”

He sighed a moment as she quieted. One last, loud sniff and a few lingering seconds of silence. “You been carrying that weight way too far, luv. You’re so damn strong. And seeing you down like this…”

Damn, maybe there was something to this empathy thing. Or maybe it was the house again. Using it’s connection to them both, signal boosting their connection to one another. He could feel that familiar hole in his chest then, that aching loss, like a fresh wound tearing through his heart. Something that Zatanna must have felt all too often, when missing her father on days like this.

“I don’t know any magic words that’ll make it better,” he admitted, chuckling without humor, “I damn know better ‘an anyone that drinking away your feelings won’t help you none. But, Zee… I know you can push past this. You’ve done it before. You’ll do it now. And when it happens in the future you’ll do it again.”

He heard the lock click but couldn’t be bothered to stand back up. He was on a roll, and in a mood now.

“I know we may not always be there for each other. But I’m here now, alright? I want that to count for something.”

Nearly toppling backwards onto her feet, he was caught off-guard as the door swung open. She took a step back as his head hit the floor, and leaned over him to look him in the eyes as she smiled sadly.

“It does. Count for something, that is. But only if you pour me a drink, and actually listen to me this time.”

He held his hand up, both for her to shake, and in a plea for her assistance in getting off the floor. “It’s a deal.”

[mionmiown]

July, 17th

just woke up and i already feel that tightness in my gut

guided by my lack of funds, the air i share, and crafts i want

i been here 2 almost 3 and what is there to show? everything.

‘20 stamped, made my wave then parked the amp, saw the politics and rants

one word for all that jawin “champ”

‘21 i had some fun, met a girl, chased the sun.

found some friends ain’t really none. Gas lights, bag pipes, rumors, and more. Fog lights, txt fights between you and your board. I’ll admit… i dabbled, my ego was lit. but once again, i never hurt nobody. and she thanked me for the dick

‘22 now im geeked. all the hate was on me. cause they love to play stupid, and then prescribe your problems with no PhD.

them PPP loans got some of y’all seeing fuzzy. How you hate me when i’m glowing, but loved the me that was bummy? Nappy fro and a smile, a nose for survival, a will to push on, and my poise comes from trials

I haven’t dropped a song ‘cause when i speak in person nowadays it get shut down. Im the type that likes to get to the bottom of things, you know figure em out. and if the problems me! im more than happy to resign. but my ghost is still lingering while my bodies been away for a whole year…. so it can’t be me this time.

Stand firm on what you want for you. They’ll take it. even if not right away, they wanna shake you cause THEYRE shaking. My CONFIDENCE has been identified as arrogance so many times. by so many people. who’ve had so many things to say. about everything. except their own little (lies) lives.

I talk big. I am big. I see big. I work hard. I eat right. I live this.

sorry if i made you feel small. it was never my intention. Im the one couped up in the house while you party wit your friends… shit

Im the one that they talk about when that stench hit (right) You know like when your face tenses up and your jaw bone drop to where ya neck is?

Next year, the trees’ll show their fruit. next year , a this time, i PROMISE you’ll find proof.

i plan on being mist to you. You, the one who swears they’ve got the answers but missed a clue. Mist.

Ill water you, but sparsely and with grace. but im burnt. tired. lonely. with no one to reciprocate.

Fuck what you heard. fuck what they think. know what you know. because ironically the only place i feel safe, secure, and understood nowadays is alone.

I’ve got issues. trust issues. daddy issues. mum issues. addictions. traumas from religion and tongue signals.

“If you do that you’ll burn in hell.” still gets me rattled

God, if you love us so much… and are love, why’s every fucking day a hate filled battle

I am not your punching bag. I am not your therapist. im just a good friend when love becomes imperative. but… honestly, i don’t feel y’all, what’s the difference between pleasure, and pain? the sensation. but one doesn’t exist without the other. so when you see me exercising the latter keep that on your brain.

And find it yourself. Im not your cheerleader.

If you fuck wit me I fuck wit you. If you need my time and i’m available, i will be there.

But to be under valued, and under appreciated is something i’m off…

i’ve tried to teach care, but when i’m talking they talk so…

idk where i’m headed but i’m sure it’ll be great

because i am… and i know that now. everything they’ve said on the web they’ve never said to my FACE

even when my ass got knocked out, he was frozen until i turned away…

you can have it… this side of this states problematic. helping people who don’t want to help themselves… you’ll find yourself in a casket. Might as well just help yo self, like an adlib.

They Love you then they hate you then they love what you do for em but won’t credit you because that’ll be them admitting that you boosted them. i’m tired man. i’m tired.

Get me the fuck outta here