#lain lit

[thegingerparty]

man crush monday

In honor of the one year birthday of my first superman au post I have a gift for you all featuring our favorite duo. This one is hot off the press I typed this up special today just for you. I have been tagged by (and am tagging back) @devirnis @corporatebanana @trombonechurchill @a-mel0n and @wee-fuckin-woo and am also tagging @queermccoy @dharmaavocado @frogsinflannel plus anyone else who wants to join!

Also we are officially past 50k for this wip yippee lets hope the next 50k doesn't take as long lol

"Two hostages is better than one, right?" he sneers at Buck. "Hopefully you have a brain behind that pretty face and know not to open your damn mouth while we do this." 

"W-what's 'this'?" 

Trent slams him against the side of the ambulance, knocking his head against it. The back doors are still open and Buck can hear the other goon talking to the paramedic from inside.

"This is none of your fucking business," he growls, shoving his gun into Buck's stomach. 

Distantly, buck wonders where Athena is, if she's still held up helping the guards with the riot. If she's even noticed that Buck disobeyed her and wandered away like a lost little lamb. He cranes his neck to try and see the door, but there's a wall behind Trent, blocking off some kind of mechanical equipment kept behind it, and Buck can't see a thing besides that. 

"You can't threaten a first responder," Buck says. "That's a felony." 

Snarling, Trent pulls him back from the ambulance just far enough that he can pistol whip him across the face. It's so sudden and so jarring that it sends Buck falling to the ground, just as a huge whoosh of wind blows past. Buck is facing the wall so he can't really see anything that's happening in the ambulance or on the other side of it, but he does see as Trent is abruptly removed from his line of sight. 

There's the sound of raised voices in the distance, one of which sounds almost familiar to Buck as he raises up on his elbow, pressing his other against his face. 

"Evan!" Superman's voice is full of concern as he lands with a thud, kneeling next to Buck on the ground. 

"I-I'm o-okay," Buck stutters out, wincing as he tries to sit up further. He tries to ask Superman if he's bleeding, but before he can get another word out he's scooped into a warm, steady embrace as a pair of chapped lips are pressed to his. 

Buck clings to Superman, arms wrapped tight around him, fingers pressed into the firm muscles of his back. He feels dizzy, lightheaded, can't tell if its from the head trauma or the kiss, but either way he doesn't stop. They kiss until Buck has to pull back for air, although Superman doesn't let him go very far, keeping their foreheads pressed together as Buck gasps against his mouth. 

"I was so worried," he murmurs against Buck's lips. He tilts Buck's head back far enough to look at him, eyes wet with worry. Superman's large hand is cradling his face, a mirror of how they stood in the alley way that night, and cocooned between the ambulance and the wall Buck feels as if the two of them are in a bubble. Nothing else exists right now except for them.

"I'm okay," Buck says again, still soft but more sure than before. He reaches his hand up to grab Superman's where it rests against his face. Turning his head slightly he lets the curve of Superman's palm press against his mouth in an almost kiss.

They sit like that, curled up on the pavement together and breathing in sync, until Athena's voice calls out from behind the wall, starling them apart.

[thegingerparty]

it's age gap april so even tho I don't go here can I get uhhhhh "what are you asking for" for babyshark? 👀

Hiiii Kathy thank you so much for indulging me I hope you still enjoy 🫶🫶🫶 (also I added a word to your prompt sorry it just felt right)(also oops more than five sentences sorry not sorry)

"What exactly are you asking for?" Dr. Park says, big arms crossed over his even bigger chest, face impassive.

Emma tries to swallow, but even months into their arrangement her mouth still goes dry whenever he gets like this.

"I just thought it would make sense, you know, since I'm usually so tired after my shifts but you can be, um, kind of wound up and so-"

"Emma."

Her mouth snaps shut, hands nervously fidgeting with the end of one of her braids.

"Are you asking me to fuck you when you're asleep?"

Emma nods. "Yes, please." He's let her off easy, usually he forces her to tell him exactly what she wants, word for word, or he won't do it.

"Well with manners like that, how can I refuse?"

(give me a ship and a sentence and I'll write the next five)

[thegingerparty]

Buck Whump Bthursday

Please enjoy 500ish words of some not quite spec about the episode and more what I wish the show would do. What do you mean it's been 9 seasons and we haven't given anyone amnesia yet???

The hospital feels both familiar and foreign to him. Something about the rhythmic beeping is comforting, in a way, but none of his surroundings do anything to jog his sluggish brain into memory.

"Good morning, Mr. Doe," a nurse says cheerfully. She's wearing navy blue scrubs and neon pink glasses, dark hair in a carefully twisted braid behind her head. "How are you feeling today?"

"Uh…" His voice comes out rough and scratchy, and the nurse has to help him take a sip of water before he can clear his throat and speak. "Mr…Mr. Doe? That's me?"

"John, we've been over this," the nurse says with a little laugh. "You came in a few days ago after the police found you unconscious on the side of the road."

His heart thuds painfully at her words. As she talks, the nurse—Star, her name badge reads—moves around the bed, checking the various tubes and needles hooked up to his body. She gets out a blood pressure cuff and straps it to his arm.

"You seem to be suffering from both retrograde and anterograde amnesia." The cuff tightens around his bicep. "The doctors expect the anterograde amnesia to resolve on its own once you've recovered from you injuries a little more and the swelling in your brain has gone down."

He watches with Star as his blood pressure pops up on the screen next to his bed and frowns. There's something wrong about it. He doesn't know why he knows that.

"And th-th-the retrograde amnesia?"

Star hesitates before answering, and he wonders often she's had to explain this all to him before. "It's hard to say," she hedges, putting away the cuff. She takes her stethoscope from around her neck, putting it into her ears and pressing the diaphragm against his chest.

He frowns again. Why does he know so much about a stethescope?

"The doctors aren't sure yet if your memories will return when your brain heals, or if it's a result of something you went through before the police found you."

"Fuck."

Star smiles at him. "You said that last time, too." She pulls back and places the stethoscope around her neck again. "Your breath sounds are clear and even, Mr. Doe, which is a very good sign. Breakfast is going to be brought up shortly, if you think you can stay awake for it, but if not I'll have the kitchen bring you something when you wake up." She smiles at him once more befire walking out the door, leaving him alone again.

He just barely manages to stay awake through breakfast, and tries to avoid falling asleep again long enough to speak with the doctors, but as soon as Star comes in to clear away the dishes his eyes are falling shut again. He just hopes he isn't taking his new memories with him.

Sitting in the LAFD hanger 1,500 miles away, Tommy Kinard gets a call from Howie.

[thegingerparty]

you're (not) on your own, kid

"So-so is that enough? For you to get a sample from?"

Alec looks up at him from the iPad with a raised eyebrow. "Dude, this is like. Twenty pages of writing. I'm pretty sure I'll be able to pull the letters I need from here."

Buck rubs his hands against his thighs, feeling clammy even though he's no stranger to needles by this point.

"O-okay, great! How, um, how long do you think this will take?"

Alec scratches their forehead while examining the scanned files Buck had emailed over before his appointment. "A few minutes, probably? Going to have my software pull out the letters we need and then we can go from there." They look back up at Buck. "You know what placement you want?"

Buck nods. "Yeah, the left wrist? If you can make it fit there."

"Shouldn't be a problem, I'll adjust the size when I print out the stencil." Alec stands up, then, and moves towards the computer at the back of the studio, leaving Buck at the bench.

His hands feel twitchy again, and he reaches over to grab the one lying next to him, squeezing tightly.

"You okay?" Tommy asks softly, and it's an echo of all those months ago, dinner in the loft when they first started dating, Buck grapling for the first time with what the loss of Bobby might mean for him.

He leans to the side, his shoulder digging into Tommy's. He allows the press of their bodies to seep through him like morphine in an IV line, let's the comfort soak into his pores like a sponge. As sure as Buck is that he wants to do this, he knows he wouldn't be able to without Tommy next to him, not without shattering into a million pieces the second the needle pierces his body.

"No," he answers finally. There's a soft scratch of calloused skin as Tommy's thumb smooths over the top of his hand. "But this is...not making it better, but." He stops, unsure how to explain it. This isn't going to fix anything, not really. But it's still going to mean something, to him, something that will hopefully cut deeper than his grief.

Tommy squeezes his hand again. "Yeah," he says. "I get it. You can carry him with you, now."

The sting of tears is all too familiar these days, but it still catches him by surprise now. He had had a nice, long cry in the shower this morning, and another smaller one on the drive over, Tommy's hand on his thigh the only thing keeping him from floating away from his body. Buck had thought he had cried out all his tears at least a dozen times by now, but miraculously his body keeps producing more.

Alec choses this moment to return to their little corner of the studio, stencil in hand and effectively cutting off the incoming spiral. "You ready?" they ask. Buck dashes away his tears haphazardly.

"Yeah," he says. "Let's do this." He squeezes Tommy even tighter, pulls their joined hands into his lap while Alec prepares their tray and rolls over on the little stool to the other side of Buck. They methodically clean off the section of his wrist where the tattoo will go and gently apply the stencil.

"How's that look?"

Perfect, is the answer. It doesn't even look like Alec pulled the letters individually from the recipe cards Buck had scanned for them, but like one fluid phrase, like all the separate pieces fit together seamlessly.

Heartbreaking, is the other answer, because he can still hear the echo in his mind, can still feel the gaping, empty void where he didn't say it back.

His hand flexes in Tommy's. "It looks great, Alec." his boyfriend answers for him. Alec peers at Buck for a moment before they nod, pulling out the tattoo gun and getting to work.

The familiar buzzing sounds starts, but Buck can only look at his white knuckled grip on Tommy. Normally he loves getting to watch, seeing the transformation happen in real time, but this one stings differently than usual.

Between one blink and the next, it's over. Alec is wrapping the Saniderm around his wrist, reciting the care instructions to the two of them. Tommy thanks him, somehow knowing Buck still isn't able to speak without breaking apart, and they walk back up front to pay.

Tommy doesn't take the exit for Buck's house, gets off one earlier instead. Buck lets him come around to open the door for him, grabs his hand as he gets out, knows it's the only think keeping him from sprinting in the other direction.

The gravestone still looks new, and a little wrong, the grass only just starting to grow over top of where the dirt was recently unearthed.

"Hey, Bobby," he starts. Stops, takes a breath, and then another, before trying again. "I, um. I have so...so much I want to say to you." he sniffles. "But I...I guess the main thing is that. That I love you, too. So much, Bobby. And I, uh. I'm sorry I didn't. Didn't say it back to you when I had the chance."

Tommy switches the hand in Buck's hold so that he can put his arm around his shoulders and pull him close. He presses a kiss to the top of his head.

"I think he still knew. Even if you didn't say it, he knew." he whispers.

Buck jerks his head in a poor approximation of a nod. "Still nice to hear, it though." he says.

Tommy hums softly. "In that case, I should probably tell you that I love you."

Despite himself Buck smiles a little. It's not the first time Tommy's told him, and it won't be the last, but like he just said, it's nice to hear it all the same.

"Love you, too." he replies. "Thanks for being here."

"No where else I'd rather be." And Buck knows, with absolute certainty, that Tommy means it.

He looks down at his wrist, at the ink that still feels like it's settling into his skin, making a home there.

"Me too."

I love you, kid.

[thegingerparty]

babyshark - “you know better than that.”

Hello alec !!! This was so fun thank you however once I again I have exceeded 5 sentences oops this is hard

"You know better than that," Dr. Park chides her, the words paired with a light slap to her bottom.

Emma squeaks in surprise, and before she can even fight back she is scooped up into a sturdy pair of arms and deposited back onto the couch.

Bracing one hand on the arm of the couch and the other on the back, Dr. Park cages her in, forcing her to look at him as he says: "I thought I told you, no weight on that for at least 3 days."

"Sorry Dr. Park," she says meekly. "I was just trying to get some more water and I didn't want to bother you."

She's been at Dr. Park's house for two days now, having sprained her ankle on her way out of work right in front of him. He very graciously inspected her ankle and after hearing she normally rode the bus to work he insisted on driving her him.

And then after seeing her apartment and how many stairs she had to climb, he had insisted she pack a bag and stay at his house while she recovered. He had even gone so far as to let Dana know she would be out for a few days while she healed.

Emma is so grateful for his help, truly she is! But she feels like a little kid having to call out in his giant house every time she needs the slightest thing.

"The only time you bother me is when you insist on using your sprained ankle before it heals," Dr. Park says. "And when insist on still calling me 'Dr. Park.'"

"Okay, Brenden," Emma says with a small smile.

"There, that wasn't too bad, was it?" Dr-Brenden says, just a hint of condescension in his tone, before going back into the kitchen to refill her water cup.

Emma watches him leave, the way he takes up space even in this hige house, and wonders how on earth she's going to go back to her small, empty apartment after this.

She wonders how long she can convince Brenden her ankle hurts.

(give me a ship and a sentence and I'll write the next five)

[thegingerparty]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 9-1-1 (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Tommy Kinard Characters: Evan "Buck" Buckley, Tommy Kinard Additional Tags: Cowgirl Position, Daddy Kink, Makeup Sex, Blow Jobs, Horny and Sappy, bedazzled cowboy hat stays on during sex Summary:

"Eight seconds. Not too bad."

The voice is low and warm at Buck's ear where he's returned to his bar stool, and immediately sends a shiver down his spine.

"What, you think you can do better?" he taunts, swiveling in his seat to face tall, dark, and handsome next to him.

"I think you know I can last longer." Tommy takes a long sip of his beer, and Buck's eyes zero in on his lips wrapped around the mouth of the bottle.

And here it is! The bucktommyificaion of the Nashville crossover, for your reading pleasure. 

Tag list under the cut 

@mandanotmandy @sgprfan @superlock-in-the-tardis @anangrylittlehobbit @queermccoy @corporatebanana @frogsinflannel @aotearoagal @prairiedaun @ryangcallahan @houseofevanbuckley @doglover14sworld @meibhin 

[thegingerparty]

save the day sunday

Hello I am back with more superman au if you can believe it. Wasn't planning on sharing again so soon but I'm excited about this little section and its a bit of a new vibe, so. Tagged by @corporatebanana and @a-mel0n, tagging them back along with @queermccoy @dharmaavocado @wee-fuckin-woo and @devirnis if you all have anything to share!

Putting some of this under the cut for length

"Fancy camera," a disembodied voice says from behind him, and Buck whips around.

The body the voice belongs to is no less concerning than the voice, a man just as tall as Buck is and lean in a way that indicates he knows how to work his body like a machine. Buck gulps and takes a step back.

The stranger grins, all teeth.

"Um, y-yeah, I guess," Buck agrees on impulse, one hand rubbing the back of his neck the other reaching down to grab his camera case protectively. "If you like vintage cameras, that is, but m-most people go for the newer ones." He laughs, and even to his own ears he can tell how fake it is.

"Vintage, huh?" The man says with interest, walking closer to Buck. "That means its pretty expensive, yeah?"

He's right, unfortunately. This camera is the most expensive one Buck owns, but he knows how to find the cameras he wants for a good price. Truthfully he would be fine handing his camera bag over and calling it a night, but he can't help but think about the fact that Jee-Yun is all over his film.

"Look man," he tries. "I'll give you the camera, but let me keep the film, alright? There's pictures of my niece on there, you don't even want those."

The lone streetlight in the alley is just enough to show the spark that enters the stranger's eye. "You don't know what I want," the man challenges with a leer. "Bet a could make a pretty penny off those photos, too."

Buck's blood boils, jaw clenching. "No," he says vehemently, clutching his camera bag tighter and moving it behind him. "No, you're not getting the film, man, c'mon she's just a kid!"

Its the absolute wrong thing to say, and his attempts to move away from the other man are just as bad. They put him right up against the roll-off dumpsters lining the street, which the man had somehow moved him towards without Buck noticing. That makes Buck even more concerned, because the move means this guy knows what he's doing and has circled his prey like this before.

There' a flash of silver in the low light, and Buck has half a second to feel his heart drop out of his ass before the man lunges, knife aimed towards Buck's chest. He jerks back, his camera bag clanging loudly against the dumpster, and scrabbled with his assailant's wrists, trying to slow his progress as he pushes the knife closer and closer to the strap of his bag.

"H-hey, let go of me!" Buck yells, jabbing his leg out in the hopes of hitting something important. The man deftly avoids the blow, and takes advantage of Buck's weakened grip on his wrists to pull one arm free and elbow Buck in the jaw.

The blow makes him see stars for a moment, the pain enough for the mugger to break out of Buck's hold entirely and cut through the trap of his bag. It doesn't fall to the ground just yet, still pressed between Buck's body and the dumpster, and Buck blindly reaches out to try and scratch a hand down the guy's face, hoping he'll at least get some DNA under his finger nails for the police to test.

Before he can make contact, the weight pressed against him leaves in an instant, followed immediately by the sound of a body hitting a dumpster on the other side of the street. Cracking his eyes open, Buck catches the glimpse of a red cape fluttering in the late night breeze, before the body floating in front of him grabs the now limp man and flies off, leaving him alone.

His abandonment doesn't last long, however, as before Buck can even properly grab his camera bag and stand up properly the red cape is back, standing in front of him this time with a look of concern on his face.

"We have to stop meeting like this," Superman says, but the joke falls flat around the worry in his tone.

He reaches around Buck to grab the camera bag, the move pressing his chest against Buck's shoulder. Buck clutches the bag tightly after it's placed in his arms, finally straightening up and looking his rescuer in the eye.

"Th-thank you," he says, wincing a little at how the words make his jaw twinge.

Superman frowns and steps a little closer, the camera bag the only thing that stops his forward progress at all. A warm hand comes up and cradles Buck's jaw, thumb rubbing against where there's sure to be a bruise already forming. Buck leans into the touch, eyes fluttering shut as his face is turned slightly so give Superman a better look.

"Nothing broken," he tells Buck softly. "But you should probably ice it when you get home."

Buck nods, and waits for Superman to drop his hand now that the damage is assessed. He does, after a few more moments staring at Buck's jaw, but he does it slowly, like he wished he wasn't.

[thegingerparty]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 9-1-1 (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz/Tommy Kinard Characters: Evan "Buck" Buckley, Tommy Kinard, Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV) Additional Tags: Polyamory Negotiations, Hand Jobs, misuse of power point, Teasing, Evan "Buck" Buckley's Clipboard, In a sense, Developing Relationship Summary:

"Welcome," Buck says, voice clear and firm despite how much he's fidgeting, "to today's presentation. The topic at hand will be—" Buck pauses dramatically, before clicking to the next slide.

The sip of beer Eddie had just taken is immediately spit out again when he sees what's on the screen. Next to him, he can hear Tommy choking, but whether its his beer or just the air Eddie can't tell. Buck is frowning, hands on his hips as he surveys the two of them. Behind him in big, bold print are the words "Reasons why we all should date".

aka buck presents his buddietommy agenda to tommy and eddie

This is a fic I wrote for @queermccoy​ and now since they have seen it I am sharing it (and the corresponding power point) with all of you!