No better time

The lawsuit from Hachette Book Group, HarperCollins, John Wiley Sons, and Penguin Random House alleges there have been significant revenue losses because of their controlled digital lending program. For context, most libraries in the US also use CDL to distribute books to their patrons wherever they are but those programs are run through for profit companies and the libraries are often paying a very high fee to so their patrons can have access to digital books. The Internet Archive’s program is completely free but they have a policy of not digitizing and lending anything less than 5 years old.

Trope/AU: Shifter AU

Was this just an excuse to write shenanigans? Yeah. Enjoy!

–

Tony frowned down at the paperwork he was supposed to be going over, brows furrowing together in frustration when he realized he’d doodled on the margins as if it was one of his blueprints. He let out a puff of breath and sat back in his seat, rubbing his hands over his face. “Can you print out page… forty-seven of this contract again?”

“Hmm?” Pepper asked around the cap of her pen. After a moment, she dragged her eyes up from her own copy, peering at his doodle with a frown. “Do you need to take a break? I could go order us coffees.”

“No, I’m just… distracted,” Tony huffed, frustrated, and scribbled out the doodle he’d made of what might have been a dog, if he was being generous with himself.

Pepper blinked at him slowly, considering, before she very carefully asked, “Is there something you want to talk to me about?”

“I don’t—” Tony began, then sighed again, this time long enough that he sagged back in his seat with it. “It’s not something that can be talked out of my system, I think?”

“Maybe we can up with a solution together, then,” Pepper said, putting her copy of the contract on the desk. “We’ll never know unless we try.”

Tony frowned at his sheaf of papers, then half-heartedly flicked the top sheet so it slid further across the desk. “Bucky doesn’t shift in front of me.”

“…Oh,” Pepper said, once the surprise had worn off. “I—I’m sorry, Tony. That must be very frustrating.”

Tony lifted his hands in an aborted shrug, letting them fall back onto his seat with another sigh. “He shifts in front of everyone except me. And like, I get it, in a way? It’s a very intimate thing, to show someone your shift.”

“Yes,” Pepper agreed sympathetically. She opened her mouth to continue comforting him.

“But I don’t understand why he would think that’s more intimate than fucking me into the—” Tony charged on.

“Fucking stop,” Pepper ordered, holding her hand up to physically show him to stop.

“Well I don’t,” Tony grumbled, crossing his arms and sinking into his seat.

Pepper waited to make sure he wouldn’t continue, then sighed, shaking her head. “Have you tried talking to him about it?”

Tony shrugged petulantly. “I don’t want to push him into anything. Sometimes he does things just because he thinks it’s expected of him after all that Hydra did to him.”

“Gee, why does that sound familiar,” Pepper mumbled.

Tony scowled up at her. “What was that?”

“I said, can you get Natasha to drop a few hints?” Pepper said, as if he did not know she was lying to his face.

Tony scowled at her a little longer, then sighed again. “It feels childish to get someone else involved. It’s not a big deal. I just—I wonder if it’s because of my shift, sometimes.”

“…You’re afraid he’ll crush you,” Pepper guessed.

Tony shrugged, looking away from her. “Yeah, or, um. Well, you know. Some people are. Superstitious. Sometimes.”

Pepper stared at him, aghast. Finally, though, she got her wits back and spluttered, “Tony. You’re a teeny tiny bat.”

“Don’t say I’m teeny tiny,” Tony muttered, scowling.

“You weigh half an ounce, Tony!” Pepper shouted over him. “I’m sorry, there’s nothing threatening about you in your shifted form. I watched you slap yourself in the face because you got excited about eating a moth.”

Tony sank in his chair, miserable. “So he doesn’t shift because he doesn’t respect me in mine?”

“That’s not what I fucking said,” Pepper snapped. “Tony, you’re adorable. I watched Steve punch Thor for the opportunity to hold you.”

“His hands were very warm,” Tony remembered. Steve had been so gentle. He’d rubbed the tip of his thumb over his head and lulled him into sleep. It was nice.

“I’m so fucking jealous,” Pepper muttered to herself.

Tony had no idea why. She was a beautiful swan. She was glorious and terrifying. Tony liked hiding under her wing. “Steve would pet you, too. He doesn’t mind birds.”

“You’re so stupid,” Pepper said, but she was doing that thing where her eyes went dewy, so he figured it was that thing where everyone just got overwhelmed by how cute he was, so he didn’t take offense. “Fine. You keep your mouth shut. I’ll drop a hint for Natasha. That way you’re not involved.”

“And we’ll get me another copy of page forty-seven,” Tony added.

Pepper rolled her eyes, then turned and stood up. “Nope! We’re going out to lunch. If I read another page of this, my eyes will cross. They’ll still be here tomorrow.”

“I could eat,” Tony agreed as she walked around the desk to pull him onto his feet.

.-.

Tony was dozing in his easy chair when he felt someone carefully poking at his face. He blinked his eyes open. Bucky was standing over him, raising an eyebrow and frowning at him. But he was also upside down in Tony’s view, so he decided he wasn’t nervous about it. “Hi,” he said.

“Natasha said that Pepper said that you said you were sad I don’t shift in front of you,” Bucky said.

“This has backfired horribly,” Tony decided.

Bucky rolled his eyes, frown fading. He squatted down next to the chair and raised his eyebrows, tilting his head so it looked right-side up. “Sweetheart, it’s not that I don’t want to shift in front of you. It’s just that any time I want to, you’re already shifted, and I literally can’t see you when I’m in my wolf form.”

“What?” Tony said, rubbing his eyes.

“You’re tiny,” Bucky said. “I am big. I am constantly terrified of crushing you when you’re in your little bat form.”

“Doesn’t stop you from smothering me with kisses,” Tony muttered petulantly.

Bucky scowled at him. “You’re tiny, I said. And you’re the one who always says I have cute aggression. Do you want me to stop smothering you with kisses?”

“No,” Tony answered hurriedly.

“Anyway, I have great vision as a wolf, but you’re tiny that it’s hard for me to catch sight of you, and I’m afraid I’ll accidentally step on you before I see you,” Bucky explained. “I wasn’t trying to hurt your feelings or anything. I just couldn’t risk it.”

“You can be a wolf and I can be human. That’s fine,” Tony told him, trying to make sure sincerity dripped from his every word. He liked being a bat with Bucky, sure, but they could take turns. Relationships were about compromise. He could compromise.

Bucky smiled at him, shrugging. “I don’t mind, honestly, I just—” He cut himself off, looking stunned, then leaned in, whispering, “Tony. I just had the wickedest idea. The team will hate us.”

Tony remembered that the last time Bucky had said that, Steve had threatened to snuggle both of them to death while trying not to cry. He always loved upsetting Steve like that. “Yeah, okay.”

“I knew there was a reason I loved you,” Bucky replied, lips spreading into a wide, mean grin.

.-.

“THIS ISN’T FUCKING FAIR!” Natasha bellowed.

Tony did not look up from his spot spread out across Bucky’s furry skull like a hat. He squeaked.

“Oh my God he just squeaked,” Steve whimpered, burying his face in his hands. “This is so cute. I can’t believe you two would do this during Phone-Free Friday.”

Bucky strutted around the room proudly. Tony squeaked again.

“I’d just like it on the record that Tony and Bucky are the meanest people on the team and I don’t understand why everyone thinks they’re a cute couple,” Clint choked out.

Bruce looked up at the ceiling pleadingly. “JARVIS, please, just one picture? Please. I’m begging.”

“Unfortunately, it was unanimously voted that I adhere to the rules of Phone-Free Friday as well,” JARVIS reminded everyone, somehow sounding entirely sympathetic and not at all. “No photos, no videos, no transcripts. Your time together is perfectly private.”

“FUCK,” Natasha bellowed again.

“Steve, aren’t you an artist?” Thor asked.

Steve whipped around to give Bucky and Tony a sharp look. “I am. I could draw this.”

Tony squeaked plaintively, and Steve was weak again, crumpling to the ground with a sob. “Please I can’t take much more of this.”

Bucky took another lap around the room, smug. Tony squeaked again.

“I have decided I am going to eat both of you,” Natasha said, pupils going sharp and feline, and Bucky yelped and turned to sprint for the elevator.

Tony squeaked in dismay as he lost his grip on Bucky’s fur at one of his jolting steps, bouncing from his head and fluttering impotently to keep from hitting the floor. He didn’t have enough time, though, so he’d certainly hit the floor in a way that left him sore for days. Luckily, Thor slid across the floor to catch him, and Tony peeped his thanks, wrapping his wings around one of his thick fingers.

“HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO LIVE LIKE THIS,” Natasha thundered. “I TAKE BACK TELLING BUCKY YOU WERE SAD. THIS IS EVEN WORSE.”

Bucky stood between Natasha and Thor protectively, baring his teeth. Tony squeaked and fluttered a wing at him, then squeaked again in alarm when he almost fell, quaking back into Thor’s palm as he gently adjusted him.

“I think I’ll just lie down and die,” Steve muttered, letting himself fall the rest of the way to the floor.

and then later when he SNEAKS INTO A CORNER TO FUCKING… facetime yoda… like “ok so we have these millions of identical human men who were apparently suspiciously ordered for us by someone???” and yodas fucking response is just “when countless sapient lemons life gives you…….. send those lemons into intergalactic battle you must”

Nicky has a nervousness about him that he’s never been able to explain. He keeps feeling like something’s missing. Like he’s forgotten the name of an important thing and it’s sitting, impatient, at the tip of his tongue. He can’t recall. Or he doesn’t know. It’s all terribly confusing, and so, so frustrating.

He’ll walk down the street, see a family of duckings that makes him smile, and turn to his right to tell… someone. No one’s there.

Sometimes, when he’s tired, he’ll order two coffees at the shop on the corner, making one much sweeter than he likes it. Only when he walks away does he remember he’s alone.

When his friends encourage him, he goes to bars. He meets men, and occasionally he will let them touch his arm or his shoulder or his thigh from the bar stool beside his. Sometimes, he lets them kiss him. Never, is he able to ignore the feeling of wrong that prickles over his skin and twists in his stomach. Always, he leaves without them. If he has their number, he will delete it before he gets home.

Tonight, he cooks at the stove. He doesn’t realize he’s made any mistakes until, holding two plates, he thinks of something Booker said at work and turns, ready to share. There are two chairs at Nicky’s table. Both are empty. Nicky looks at his hands, and cursing, leaves one plate on the counter and takes the other into the living room. He sits on the couch, plate on his lap, and turns up the sound on the tv until he forgets that he’s forgotten.

The next morning, on his way to work, he sees a selection of sketchpads in an art store window. He buys one, and a set of charcoals. He carries the bag proudly until he gets to the office, to the cubicle he shares with Booker, and realizes with a deep sigh and heavy frown that he does not draw.

Booker looks at the bag, then at him. He lifts one lone brow. “You start taking art classes?”

Groaning, Nicky throws the bag under the desk and collapses into the chair. Whatever this is, it’s getting worse. What started as tri-monthly slip-ups are turning into daily routines. “Maybe I should see a doctor,” Nicky says.

“Maybe.” Booker scratches his chin. Behind him, on his computer screen, a game of solitaire is opened over the report he is supposed to be writing. “Or it could just be what it obviously is.”

“Don’t start.”

“Soulmates, Nicky,” Booker says.

Choose your fighter: 

Supernatural ending

MCU Endgame ending

Sherlock ending

Game of Thrones ending

Bonus Round:

We get a constant influx of therapist horror stories. Therapists who say asexuality is not valid, therapists who try to ‘change’ their patient’s asexuality, therapists who insult and degrade asexual clients, and so on.

But we also get stories about therapists who are understanding, supportive, and knowledgeable about asexuality. And I want to make an accessible collection of such therapists.

Finding a therapist/counselor that suits your individual needs is always a challenge. Our choices are very often limited due to budget and travel constraints. We choose therapists that fit all our interests and needs - for some people, that means a very specific field, and therefore less options to choose from.

Aces deserve therapists that treat us right. We don’t need to be satisfied with a therapist that doesn’t understand asexuality. Our money can go towards brighter horizons.

If you know a therapist that;

Understands asexuality as a sexual identity

Respects asexual clients

Has experience with asexuality and the asexual experience

Is flexible and accommodating towards a diverse community of asexuality

Please send us their name and location! All submissions will be collected in a Google doc, meant to clearly indicate who is safe for aces, and where they are available.

We will require the therapist’s full name, and their city/state/country of employment. Bonus information (that’s not required, but would be appreciated); their price range ($-$$$), and their specific fields of speciality (LGBT issues, trauma, teens, etc). This list will be worldwide.

Thank you for helping us build a safer world for us!

@littlexolotl

If he dies

I SAY WHAT THE F 

WHAT WAS HAPPENING !??!

@castiel-saved-me-from-myself