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fuckyeahgoodomens · 4 years

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Good Omens Gifs Masterlist ❤ - part 1

!!! Because Tumblr has a link limit in one post, the list is divided into two.

This is part 1, part 2 with Season 2 Episodes, Opening Title, Deleted Scenes, Parallels and annotations, Manips, Collections, BTS, Promos, Interviews and other is here.

Show:

(general tag for show gifs is goodomensedit)

S1 Episode 1

Earth creation

Crowley tempts Eve

Crowley’s wings come up

Crowley (Crawley) introduces himself

It’s ineffable

Didn’t you have a flaming sword?

Adam and the lion

I do hope I didn't do the wrong thing.

It'd be funny if we both got it wrong, eh?

The first rain starts and Aziraphale shields Crowley

Hastur and Ligur coming from the ground

Hastur and Ligur coming to the cemetery

Hastur and Ligur meet Crowley at the cemetery

Crowley signs the contract

Crowley leaving the cemetery

Crowley cursing after learning about Arrmageddon

Aziraphale getting sushi

It’s sushi

It's miracle he hasn't spotted you yet

I’m just also here with the President

You’ve left your lights on

Crowley getting called ‘Doctor’

Crowley’s ‘Yup’

Sister Mary Loquacious examines the Antichrist

Table tennis

The wrong baby being wheeled away

We need to talk

Celessstial harmoniesss

No more old bookshops

Aziraphale saying no

Aziraphale is invited to lunch and remembers 1793 crêpes

That was scrumptious

Get thee behind me, foul fiend

Hastur coming behind the satanic nuns

What about our reward?

Aziraphale savours the wine

My point is... dolphins

What are they putting in bananas these days?

Eternityyy

The Sound of Music

The bottles filling back up

Crowley and Aziraphale become undrunk

Crowley’s hypnotizing snek eyes

See a wile, ya' thwart, am I right?

We'd be godfathers

Godfathers, I’ll be damned

The Nanny

The Gardener

Nanny sings the lullaby

A and C entering the Heaven/Hell office building

They don’t suspect a thing

A and C meet very inconspicuously on a bus

AC on the bus - what if he comes into his full power

Aziraphale decides to do magic at the party

Michael’s fluffy hair detail

Aziraphale’s coin trick

Harry the Rabbit

Wrong boy

Crowley complaining about memos

We’re doomed

S1 Episode 2

Pornography

Sandalphon - Sodom and Gomorrah

I didn’t mean to fall

Agnes - Thou art tardy

Agnes - burning and the explosion

The Them discuss witches

Anathema arrives to Tadfield

Crowley - Easy job

Crowley and the plants

Crowley’s hips in his flat

A child has been lost

Crowley and Aziraphale bicker about driving speed

Bebop

Flawless

For my money it was just an ordinary cock-up

Big spooky fan, me

A and C are shot

Crowley scares the paintball guy

Crowley removes the stain on Aziraphale’s coat

Don’t your lot disapprove of guns?

Crowley changes the painball guns into real ones

The wall slam

Crowley uses a miracle on Mary Hodges

Luck of the devil

He had a lovely little toesie-woesies

I'm not occult

Let there be light

Oh Lord, heal this bike

Whatever water slides off + ducks

Crowley glaring glarefully

Aziraphale’s shortbread tin

Mind how you go

S1 Episode 3

Eden - God asks Aziraphale about the flaming sword

Noah Ark - The animals

Noah Ark - A and C about the flaming sword

Noah Ark - Crowley’s eyebrow

Noah Ark - Not the kids, you can’t kill kids

Noah Ark - How kind

Noah Ark - Are you going to say ‘ineffable’?

Noah Ark - Oy, Shem!

Crucifixion - Crawley changed to Crowley

Crucifixion - Be kind to each other

Rome - Aziraphale hears Crowley’s voice

Rome - What else I’m going to be, an aardvark?

Rome - Aziraphale tempts Crowley

Arthurian - Sir Aziraphale wants to meet the Black Knight

Arthurian - Spreading foment

Shakespeare - Crowley pushing the pull door

Shakespeare - He’s behind you!

Shakespeare - What does your friend think?

Shakespeare - Come on, Hamlet, buck up

Shakespeare - Age does not wither

Shakespeare - Up to no good

Shakespeare - The Arrangement

Shakespeare - Toss you for Edinburgh

Shakespeare - Hamlet needs a miracle

Bastille - Aziraphale sees Crowley

Bastille - Aziraphale was peckish and has standards

Bastille - I was reprimanded last month

Bastille - Crowley removes Aziraphale’s chains

Bastille - What about if I buy you lunch?

Victorian - Sauntered vaguely downwards

Victorian - I like pears

Victorian - Do ducks have ears?

Victorian - Obviously

Church - Do not buy Betamax

Church - A. tells them they’ve been played for suckers

Church - Aziraphale finds out he’s been played

Church - Aziraphale’s surprised face detail

Church - Sorry, consecrated ground

Church - Mr. Anthony J. Crowley, your fame precedes you

Church - Aziraphale finds out about ‘Anthony’

Church - The famous Mr. Crowley?

Church - What does the ‘J’ stand for?

Church - You won’t enjoy dying or what comes after

Church - It'd take a real miracle for my friend and I to survive it

Church - Crowley saves the books

60s - Young Shadwell asking Crowley if he’s a witch

60s - Young Shadwell stops Crowley

60s - You go too fast for me, Crowley

60s - Aziraphale’s tartan cravat detail

Anxious Aziraphale rehearsing what he’ll say to Heaven

The Witchfinder Army

Crowley meeting Shadwell

Witchfinder General on TV

Keeps me on my toes

Gabriel’s eyes detail

Elvis

I won't be forgiven. Not Ever.

I don’t even like you

We’re on opposite sides

Bandstand breakup

Have a nice doomsday

Nuclear reactor acting weird

S1 Episode 4

Gabriel insists about the War - otherwise how would we win it

I’m soft

Gabriel asks Aziraphale about the flaming sword

Michael shows Gabriel the Earth observation files

Michael’s conversation with Ligur

Crowley and the astronomy floating pages

I only ever asked questions

Newt sees the UFO

Pepper muses about whales

Newt faints

One big avocado

Crowley invented selfies

Warlock - You smell like poo

Hastur - He said that I smelled of poo

So long, sucker!

Aziraphale dancing

Demons dancing

Aziraphale telephones Crowley

You’ve got the wrong shop

Oh... fuck

S1 Episode 5

Do I look like I run a bookshop?

Crowley in the burning bookshop p1

Crowley in the burning bookshop p2

Aziraphale appears in Heaven

Aziraphale in Heaven realizes that he can posses people

I never asked to be a demon

Crowley in the pub - Aziraphale appears

I lost my best friend

Look, souvenir!

Death meets the other three

Aziraphale waves at Tracy in a mirror

The southern pansy

Crowley’s lecture on M25 in Hell

On M25 - Hastur how was your time in voicemail?

If you've got to go, then go with style!

Aziraphale, Tracy, Shadwell flying

Dog in the basket

Crowley and R.P. Tyler part1 and part2

S1 Episode 6

‘Crowley‘ is brough in front of the jury in Hell

Nice dress, suits you

Army human

Bentley explodes

I’m having a moment here

Lick some serious butt

Aziraphale tries to shoot Adam

Adam separates Aziraphale and Madame Tracy

Dagon encouraging the troops

Book girl, catch

Aziraphale starts telling everybody how he met Crowley

Gabriel and Beelzebub appear at the airfield

Lord Beelzebub, what an honour

A says ‘Um, ahem...’ and the details of C’s and G’s faces

God does not play games with the universe

Gabriel and Beelzebub compaining to each other

A and C’s cheeky grin detail and separate details

We are fucked! + detail

Come up with something or I'll never talk to you again

Aziraphale and Crowley with wings in the time bubble

You’re human incarnate

Aziraphale, Adam, Crowley hand holding

Adam rejects Satan

If we’d been at all competent

We’re on our own side

Anathema asking about Dick Turpin

Hastur calling Michael wank-wings

I’m the Archangel Fucking Gabriel

Shut your stupid mouth and die already

A enjoys the bath in Hell detail

A in Hell asks for a rubber duck

C enjoys the Hellfire in Heaven

Adorable nose scrunch detail

Swap back

Let me tempt you to a spot of lunch?

Aziraphale’s wiggle

Just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing

To the world

Ritz ending

Continue to part 2 :).

(last updated 30.12.2023)

#good omens #david tennant #michael sheen #good omens gifs #gifs masterlist #masterpost #oh dear this was so much work! :D #but it's done!#wahoo!#gifs masterlist part 1

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superhero--imagines · 3 years

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Etsy Store Here l Ko-Fi l Commission Info

Part 1 Here! / Part 2 Here!/ Playlist Here!

* Alright so here are the facts as you know them

* Gojo’s a goddamn player and a homewrecker

* The boy probably has half of Tokyo after him

* Not that you can blame them, that pretty face had you fooled at first too

* The second fact, it that for whatever reason, Gojo Satoru has chosen to play house with a future hopeful sorcerer named Megumi Fushiguro

* Which, through forces outside your control, you have become involved with as well

* And the last fact, was that as soon as this no longer interested him or benefited him in any way, Gojo Satoru would abandon the situation entirely and act like it never happened

* So-

* “(Y/N/N), you look nice today, did you do something new with your hair?” Gojo sings

* - pray tell, why is the school prince is currently sitting on top of your desk, looking at you with those heart eyes

* “Oi what do you think you’re doing?” You ask, a vein threatening to pop on your forehead

* “I’m flirting with you~” he sings, only leaning closer with that all-too-pleased smile

* “I’m pretty sure this is bullying” you reply

* Ever since you’ve started pseudo-parenting Megumi and Tsumiki, Gojo’s been doing crap like this,

* Sometimes he tries to feed you at lunch,

* “Open wide (Y/N/N)~” He’ll sing as he holds out a piece of sushi towards you on some chopsticks

* Only for Megumi to eat it instead

* “Why do you look so sad papa, I thought you said I was your pride and joy”

* other times he’s holding doors open for you

* “Ah here let me-“

* You watch as he walks across from you and opens the door to a random void shrine

* You look at him before sighing and opening your own door to the library

* The other day you mentioned how you didn’t get to try the limited edition Sakura Pepsi and came back to your dorm with a bottle on your desk

* Which would be cute- if the bottle wasn’t half-empty with a note that he’d that said

* “Sorry, I got thirsty on the way back”

* Seriously he’s the worst- and yet,

* You turned away from Megumi and Gojo bickering, hoping he didn’t notice how flustered you were,

* you hid your laugh behind your hand as Gojo jogs to catch up with you, saying he was just trying to predict your needs-

* And you held the half-full bottle of Sakura Pepsi to your chest, keeping it on your window sill

* Because you love him-

* Even though you know he’s just doing all these things to entertain himself instead of out of genuine affection

* Even though these feeling will do nothing but hurt you

* You still love him

* He makes your life feel exciting and fun

* And more than that, underneath that moronic playboy exterior, is a gentle, lonely heart

* A heart that will run away as soon as it knows how you feel about it

* So you mask your budding feelings as best as you can

* Because the only thing you imagine is more painful than knowing your feelings won’t be returned-

* Is not having Gojo Satoru in your life at all

* So you do your best to pretend like nothing has changed

* You act just as indifferent as you always have-

* “Here-“ you push your dessert in Gojo’s direction. “You like sweets right?”

* His smile is so radiant you almost have to shield your eyes

* Well, mostly indifferent anyway

* Not that the self-absorbed moronic prince has seemed to notice anyway

* Too busy focusing on the scrumptious piece of cake in front of him

* Still Gojo isn’t one to be underestimated, he looks to you with a twinkle in his eyes

* “Let’s share it!”

* So far he’s tried twice to have an indirect kiss with you, and he’s missed twice

* He even threw away those chopsticks when Megumi ate that piece of sushi in frustration

* But you know what they say, third times the charm

* You look at Gojo with a raised eyebrow, gaze flicking between the cake and his face

* What, did he imbue some cursed energy so it would explode when you tried to take a bite

* “No thanks”

* Cue Gojo crying as he eats his cake

* He’s really been doing his best lately to earnestly pursue you

* But for some reason, you just don’t get it

* “I like you,” Gojo says as you’re walking side by side on your way back to the dorm after visiting Megumi

* You look back at him, and Gojo feels a blush start to fan across his face

* He finally did it! He finally confessed to you

* And his heart is drumming away in his chest

* You don’t seem to understand the monumental significance of what just occurred because what your mind heard was

* “I {really} like {teasing} you”

* You sigh, your heart skipped a beat, for a second you almost got your hopes up

* There’s no way lady killer Gojo Satoru would ever pick you to be one of his lovers, and if he did it would just be so you could be apart of his personal harem

* “Ok”

* And then you turn around and walk away

* Gojo can’t help but feel like this is retribution for all the times one of his romantic partners has said ‘I love you’

* And he responded with:

* “Why would you do that to yourself?”

* Or

* “Cool”

* At first he thinks it’s a straight-up rejection, but he figures out pretty fast that you just didn’t get it when you keep acting the same as you always have around him

* But don’t get it wrong babe, none of this deters Gojo in the slightest

* “Why are you looking at me like that?” You ask

* You’re both in the library, but only one of you is actually studying

* Gojo’s been staring at you with an oddly fixated gaze

* Honestly it’s got you feeling an uncomfortable heat spreading from your face to your neck

* “I’m not giving up you know”

* Giving up on what?!?

* What’s going on right now!!?

* But Gojo doesn’t offer any more insight choosing instead to finally bother reading the book in his hands

* What a weird guy

* You look down to your own book

* You feel the heat linger on your face and neck

* It’s because he’s always saying crap like that, that you’ve caught feelings for him

* Well whatever, everything fades right? Eventually, Gojo will probably lose interest in you-

* He’s part of a clan do you imagine they’ll find a nice girl from a respectable family for him to marry

* They’ll probably have a few kids who’ll be next in line to succeed him

* And by then he’ll be in such a prominent position that you’ll never see him again

* He’ll just be a memory

* Some boy you had a youthful unrequited love with

* The thought makes your heart clench but-

* “It’s for the best,” you tell yourself

* You’re going in completely opposite directions in life, you couldn’t possibly home for anything more than what you have

* After all your luck probably ran out the second you saw his face

* The most beautiful man you’ll ever see

* “I bet he would be one of those handsome grandpas when he gets older” you snort

* The kind that charms and flirts with young men and women just because he knows the effect he has on them.

* You still can’t believe you fell in love with someone like that

* “What a pain” you mumble to yourself, falling back on your bed

* You feel uncertain, afraid of the future even.

* Maybe a snack will help

* It’s the middle of the night, way past the time you were supposed to go to bed when you see him in the kitchen

* Great the last person you wanted to run into

* He’s just standing there in front of the fridge with the door open

* He hasn’t even turned around to say hi or anything

* “Oi Baka prince if you leave the door open like that every-“

* You stop mid-word, you only need one look at his face to know something is wrong

* It’s not all that uncommon for him to do something like this-

* See the thing is, Gojo knows he’s strong enough that he will get to choose when he dies- he’s not bound by the same pain the other sorcerers are, but-

* Well, he’s still going to die

* No matter how much he thinks he’s like god, no matter how powerful he is,

* He’s still going to die

* And growing up with the power he’s had and the mindset that he’s the strongest

* The realization can be pretty crippling

* He so afraid of the uncertainty that brings that most times he can’t move

* The worst part is it’s never when he’s actively thinking about death, or even when he’s on the job

* It’s always at times like this when he’s just woken up and is oddly hungry and he’ll remember

* “Oh, I’m going to die aren’t I?”

* And then it’s like he’s frozen solid

* What is it he usually tells the victims that enter his domain?

* “Funny how when you can do everything, you find you can’t do anything”

* Usually he manages to unfreeze after some unspecified amount of time, getting through it on his own

* But this time, when he finally escapes from the domain of his inner mind he’s covered in a layer of sweat just like always-

* But he’s not sure why he sprawled across the floor

* Not until his head shifts a little, only to see your face looming over him

* Omgomgomgomgomgomgomgomg

* He’s resting his head in your lap!!!

* Honestly this has been a fantasy of his for a while, to have his head in your lap while looking at the cherry blossoms, and you feed him chocolates and a gentle wind caresses your face

* BUT NOT LIKE THIS

* “Feeling better?” You ask

* Gojo thinks he might combust, he moves to sit up but winces

* He’s got the worst headache, these little episodes of his do typically end with a migraine

* Your hand feels nice and cold as it rests against his forehead

* “Rest a little longer, we’re not in any hurry”

* Aaaaand now he’s screaming on the inside again

* “Sorry about this” he mumbles, and you can’t help but smile

* It’s oddly endearing to see a shy Gojo Satoru

* “I bet your lovers would kill me if they saw knew you were showing me such a cute side” you’re half-joking when you say it, but you’re also half-serious

* It gives your Ego a little boost to know you’ve seen a side of him that most of his lovers probably haven’t

* You doubt the mighty Gojo Satoru ever allows himself to be this vulnerable, not even while he’s in the throes of passion

* So that same earnest look on his face startles you

* “I don’t have any other lovers”

* You snort

* “Sure, and I definitely didn’t steal Geto’s pudding that he was saving”

* “I’m being serious”

* Gojo sighs, here he is feeling awfully vulnerable and you still seem denser than a rock

* Do you think he would let anyone other than you see him like this

* “When are you going to realize that if it’s not you then it’s just no good?”

* Your heart is drumming in your ears, and you wonder if he can hear it

* Your mind is telling you to pull back, that this is way too good to be true, that this will only hurt you,

* You should get away while you still have a chance

* But instead something in you persists and you say:

* “Why do you think that is”

* Gojo’s hand reaches up, twirling a strand of your hair around his finger, those clear blue eyes looking straight into yours

* Your breath stutters in your chest

* You always have been weak for those eyes

* His pink lips curl up into a smile

* “Because I love you”

* And before you know what you’re doing your bending down, pressing your lips against his

* “I love you too”

Bonus:

* “You can see through it right?” You ask

* Gojo fidgets with the blindfold, honestly he was hoping for a much kinkier reason than replacing his scuffed sunglasses when you gave him the blindfold

* “It’s a little darker, but that’s not a bad thing.”

* His hair is out of his face too which is nice

* But-

* “What’s with the sudden gift?”

* It’s not exactly out of character for you to get the people you care about something, but this seems a little outside of your usual MO

* “I just felt like it” You mumble

* Now that his eyes are covered up you think he might attract a little less attention, and all his former flings probably won’t be able to recognize him

* Your eyes drift to his uniform, even in the gross pantsuit you can still tell he’s got a pretty nice body,

* But you’ll have to adjust

* Gojo sees right through your nonchalant answer, smiling that wolfish grin

* “Aw was my sweetie scared I was going to leave them?” He coos, moving ever so close

* You only turn away your face

* Gojo only grins wider

* “Honey~ you should know by now if it’s not you then I’m not interested” he sings in your ear

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen gojo #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru headcanon #gojo satoru reader insert #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru imagine #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jujutsu kaisen headcanon #jujutsu kaisen x reader #superhero--imagines

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emotionallyits2009 · 4 years

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deancas fic rec list!

hello everyone! happy christmas to those who celebrate it, my gift to you is my fic rec list that i said i would make like a month ago. the only thing it is organized by is canonverse vs alternate universe. tried to cover a variety of subjects but there are in particular many fics of the genre “postcanon where cas is human and he and dean live together and slowly finally get their shit together” because i know what i’m about, son. HOPE U ENJOY. and if you wanna talk about any of them or rec me other fics please do. :)

Canonverse:

where the weeds take root by deathbanjo, 30k, explicit “Are you happy? Y’know. Just—being here,” Dean says, gesturing to the yard with his beer bottle. “Being with—I mean, you used to fight in celestial wars and—and save the world. Now you’re growing vegetables and talking about chickens.” There are many fics set in a post-canon universe where Cas is human and he and Dean live together and slowly fall into a relationship. Imo this one is the best of the best of that genre. This was one of the first fics I read back in July when I was getting Back Into Supernatural where I was like oh fuck I’m like in this. Dean builds Cas planters and bookshelves and a chicken coop and they fight and work through it.

Cuckoo And Nest by komodobits, 10k, explicit For a long time, Castiel thought that every earthly possession other than the immediately necessary was excess to requirement. But Dean – Dean who named his car, who keeps a photograph of his mother in his wallet, some thirty-plus years after her death, who still has the crumpled ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign with a sleeping pelican emblazoned on it from the Microtel outside of Roanoke where he first kissed Castiel, clumsy and unsure, under the unsteady fluorescence of an exhausted bathroom bulb – is sentimental. It puzzles Castiel, where Dean draws the line between what is meaningful and what it is worthless. Really Gets the dynamic of Cas doesn’t think Dean wants him to stay/Dean thinks Cas will leave the first chance he gets. Also a nice example of Cas thinking he’s not wanted if he’s not useful/powerful and being told otherwise. Another all-time fave!

lonely hearts by outphastthemoat, 4.5k, gen He thinks he might give up having his own anything just to be able to step foot inside the room next door and sit on the edge of Dean’s bed instead. This one is for the CAS GIRLS who know what LONELINESS feels like.

Helionneiros by aeli_kindara, 24.2k, mature In which Dean visits his mother, and Claire takes Cas on a hunt. I’m always on the lookout for more fic with Claire and Jack. Jack doesn’t show up until the end here but the relationship between Cas and Claire is really nice.

Crawl by aeriallon, 11k, explicit It’s been almost four years since Castiel left Kansas; he'd eventually settled in an island town where he has a job, a house, and a life without the Winchesters. Every winter, Dean drives down to the coast to see him. Another fic where Cas is human but in this one he took some time for himself and got some distance from the Winchesters! He gets to be competent and weird as a human and we love that for him. I must warn you all that this fic contains one use of the phrase “making love” which would normally put me right off but it’s still worth reading. The first of a three-part series.

home where you hold me by microcomets, 1.6k, gen Cas and Dean, in the moments between their battles, ache for quiet spaces. Technically this is a coda to 10x20 but you don’t need the episode for context. Short and very sweet.

Build a Home by domesticadventures, 20.1k, teen After they save the world, Dean expects Cas to come back to the bunker with them. He doesn’t. This one is so cute it’s like what if once they were done saving the world Sam and Dean actually invited other hunters to move into the bunker with them. Obviously Dean wants that to include Cas but doesn’t know how to use his words.

the taste of gravel in the mouth by deathbanjo, 22.4k, explicit This is what Cas gave up Heaven for: greasy diner food, shitty motel rooms with even shittier cable, long car rides spent in complete silence except for the same six tapes playing over and over again, and a burnt-out husk of a man who can barely hold a conversation anymore. Angst fic! They go on a road trip and Dean is severely fucked up post-Mark of Cain.

Unknown Quantities by xylodemon, 8.6k, explicit No one ever tells Dean anything. Another nice getting-together fic.

Creature of Habit by trinityofone, 5.2k, teen The more you love someone, the more you want to kill them. Or: How Cas developed some bad habits, and Dean coped surprisingly well. This one is ancient by destiel standards (written during season 5) but it manages to nail the married couple vibes they give off in later seasons. Cas is a bitch and Dean likes him so much. <3

The (Mostly Accidental) Courtship of Dean Winchester by Tuesday, 11.2k, mature Angelic marriage rites were never intended to go quite like this. Another old one that is a lot of fun! They get Accidental Angel Married and if you don’t enjoy dumb fanfiction tropes like that I don’t know what to say to you.

Vena Amoris and Other Old-Fashioned Bullshit by pyrebi, 4k, teen In which angelic marriage bonds are apparently stupidly easy to trigger, Cas wages multidimensional war in Heaven, Dean can't catch a break like ever, Sam rather enjoys being a dick, love saves the day, and nobody consummates anything. The OTHER accidental angel marriage fic written in 2010.

Crazy Diamonds by pantheon_of_discord, 24.8k, explicit A week ago, Dean was pulled out of Hell. Now, he’s apparently woken up in 2018, and the angel that a mere twenty-four hours beforehand had threatened to chuck him back into the pit is sleepily pouring himself coffee and wearing Dean’s second-favourite Zeppelin shirt. It all seems like a perfect happy ending, but with Hell’s scars still so fresh, Dean can’t imagine how he could have possibly gotten there. At the same time, the Dean who went to sleep in the bunker, right next to Cas, wakes up on Bobby’s couch in 2008. He’s instantly bombarded with questions by a Lilith-obsessed brother and a man who’s been dead for years, and must decide between keeping his finally-perfect life intact, and the lives he could save by re-writing history. Regardless of these choices, both Deans are trapped in the wrong decade, and their only way back lies with a Castiel still very much under Heaven’s thumb – one who might find the future Dean describes difficult to believe. Time travel is FUN. There’s an excellent part where (minor spoilers) future!Dean is like, “Guess what, asshole? You like me so much you marry me!!!!!!!!!!!” to 2008!Castiel that made me laugh out loud the first time I read it. Also just a good reminder of how most problems in life are temporary and if you could go back in time to talk to your younger self you’d be like, “Hey man. Chill out. You get through it.”

The Path of Fireflies by museaway, 63.7k, mature After his humanity is restored, Dean wakes up in bed with Castiel, a wedding ring, and no memory of the past twelve years. There’s a lot of amnesia fic and djinn fic out there were Dean wakes up ~suddenly together with Cas~ but I like this one in particular because he’s initially very confused and kind of a dick about it until he acknowledges that being with Cas makes him happy.

take the long way home by dothraki_shieldmaiden, 95k, explicit Three months ago, when Dean decided to retire, he thought his life was going to end up differently. He'd thought that he might get to have it all, Sam, Cas, Jack, and nice little place to live. Instead he gets Sam and Jack off on their Summer of Love Tour, radio silence from Cas, and a never-ending road trip consisting of himself. Still reeling from the loss of his grace, Castiel travels the country in search of hunts. Driven by a need to prove his usefulness, he pushes himself beyond all limits of endurance. Together, with the help of a few friends, a crumbling Victorian house, and a stray cat, Dean and Castiel patch themselves back together and create a home together. Do you wanna read almost one hundred thousand words of Dean and Cas having extremely intense feelings but refusing to voice them aloud? Haha of course you do that’s why you’re here. There’s also a lot about Cas adjusting to being human and being depressed about it which might resonate if you’ve ever felt weird about having a body. To be honest the author could stand to use a few more commas but there were also half a dozen moments that made me put my phone down and drag my hand slowly over my face and whisper “oh my god” to myself which is like, the ultimate measure of a good fanfiction so it gets to be on the list.

like moses and batman and james dean by saltyfeathers, 31.6k, explicit dean used to turn tricks. over a decade later, he met cas. Have you seen the fanon (apparently pioneered by Mr. Jackles “Original Deankin” Ackles himself) that Dean used to prostitute himself to feed himself and Sam when they were younger? Are you interested in exploring that concept in fanfiction? Well, this is the only fic you need. Mind the tags on this one! It’s not what I’d call happy but it’s good.

Some Assembly Required by narrow_staircases, 47k, mature It’s September of 2005, and Dean Winchester, in an attempt to outrun old mistakes and painful memories, finds himself in southern Kentucky on a wild goose chase. He’s completely certain this weird religious movement he’s “investigating” is a hoax, despite the miraculous healings people report, and he’ll be back on the road in a day or two. Things are looking up when he meets Cas, an awkward (and gorgeous) graduate student who’s actually doing honest-to-god research into the local tent revival meetings. When that research takes a weird and personal turn, Dean’s left to face two very serious realities: one, this may be a real case after all, and two, he’s fallen way harder for Cas than he should ever have let himself. Stanford-era AU of Dean trying to avoid his father and getting in over his head on a case.

Alternate universe:

And This, Your Living Kiss by opal_bullets, 57k, mature Only a very few people in the world know that the celebrated and reclusive poet Jack Allen is just Kansas mechanic Dean Winchester, a high school dropout with a few bucks to his name. Not that it matters anymore; life has left him so wrung out he never wants to pick up another pen. Until, that is, a string of coincidences leads Dean to auditing a poetry course with one Dr. Castiel Novak. The professor is wildly intelligent, devastatingly handsome...and just so happens to be academia's foremost expert on the poetry of Jack Allen. Mundane AUs in this fandom have to be really, really good to catch my attention and this one is! It’s exactly what it says in the summary and the characterization is spot-on.

Out to Drift by deathbanjo, 20.9k, mature Dean drives a black car with a loud engine. He lies too easily. He keeps a gun in the back of his jeans, and Castiel isn’t sure, but he wouldn’t be surprised if Dean has killed someone before. Two people in fucked-up unstable situations meeting and forming a connection. Honestly guys I really just love deathbanjo.

#fic #deancas #destiel

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half-bakedboy · 3 years

Text

jumping to (the wrong) conclusion (read on ao3)

Pairing: Evan “Buck” Buckley/Eddie Diaz Rated: General Summary: “Buck, Eddie was trying to tell you he’s in love with you,” Taylor said, her voice more serious than he thought she’d be capable of with so much alcohol in her system.

“He— No— Wait, I— What?” Buck’s mind came up with rapid-fire responses because no part of him was truly ready to handle the fact that his best friend might feel the same for Buck as he had for the last two years.

Or Eddie realizes something about his best friend, Buck finds his courage and Taylor gets to witness it all.

A Season 4 Episode 11: First Responders Extended Scene (contains minor spoilers for the ep)

The adrenaline was still pumping through Eddie’s veins even after he had changed out of his sweat-soaked uniform and taken a longer than necessary shower at the station. His blood was thrumming under his skin and he was sure he would vibrate right out of his body if he had the ability. The gunshots still echoed in his ears, Bobby’s quick actions flashing across his mind, and before Eddie realized it, he was pulling up to Buck’s apartment building.

He should have figured that’s where he would end up. Chris was with Hen, Karen, and the kids for the night, and Eddie had planned to drink a few beers by his lonesome while watching the UFC fight he had missed a few days prior. He had set it up to be the perfect night in his head, but he realized that his night couldn’t be nearly perfect because Buck wouldn't be there. Buck was just… inevitable.

Before he could think about what that meant, he got out of the car and locked the door with his keyfob, knowing that Buck would recognize the familiar beep of his car. He was lucky enough as he walked in that one of Buck’s neighbors that Eddie knew to be a night nurse was just leaving for her shift.

“Eddie, stopping by again already?” Becky shouted with a wiggle of her eyebrows. He jogged up the steps and grabbed the door from her, picking up the water bottle she had dropped on the floor to help her out. While Becky was very sweet and often let Eddie in when Buck wasn’t awake yet, he didn’t really feel like sparking up a conversation when his mind was racing as it was.

“Yeah, is Buck around?” He asked, making sure to keep a safe distance between them.

“He is, I think he came back with—“

Before she could finish, Eddie interrupted, “Thanks so much. Have a good shift!”

He was pretty sure he sprinted up the steps, unsure of how his feet were moving so fast. His mind was still racing, over and over with only thoughts of Buck clouding his conscience. Buck, who had been his best friend for years and had saved Eddie - not to mention Christopher - more times than he could count. Buck, who was the only thing Eddie had thought about for the last few months like a stream of what if’s and what could be’s that spiraled around his mind. Buck, Buck…

“Buck?” He called as he pounded his fist against the door. It was overkill, he knew. Buck had never not answered the door for anyone if he was home because he was just too kind to ignore someone who may be in need. Eddie’s smile widened on his lips at even the mere thought of Buck and he ran his hands over his face in both frayed nerves and sheer excitement as he waited for Buck to answer.

When the door opened and Buck’s confused look turned into a wide smile, Eddie pushed himself past the entrance and turned on Buck before either of them spoke. He thought at first that he wouldn’t know what to say, but then his eyes met Buck’s and he couldn’t stop himself from once the words started.

“I almost got shot today. Again,” Eddie added with a laugh, and Buck’s face contorted into that deep concern he seemed to always have for everyone but himself. “I’m fine, we’re all fine, but Buck, I was caught in the crossfire of yet another person with an indescribable amount of evil in their heart and it was like I was back there, in Afghanistan with enemy fire coming at all sides. That adrenaline, that fear, that instinct to survive kicked on in full force.”

“Eddie, are you—“ Buck tried to speak, his arms reached out as if to inspect Eddie for injury, but Eddie stepped closer and grabbed his hands tightly instead.

“And all I could think about was you,” Eddie admitted, shaking his head in disbelief that he had actually said it. “I heard the first shot and I thought, ‘thank god Buck isn’t here so I can focus on the girl I’m here to save’ and at no point did I stop to question why that was. Then I was loading her into the ambulance, about to crawl outta my skin with— with thrill just vibrating through me and somehow I found myself here.”

“Maybe we should—“ Eddie barely noticed Buck suddenly tense and glance over his shoulder.

“I realized that I am always going to find myself here because you’re my person, you know? My partner that I trust in times of severe danger, my best friend that I want to be around when anything exciting happens to me, and Jesus, Buck, I want you—“

“If it isn’t the one man at Station 118 that can’t stand me.” The voice had Eddie’s bubbling blood freezing in his veins and if he had hackles, he was sure they’d be standing at attention. Eddie turned and saw none other than Taylor Kelly - Eddie refrained from calling her the reporter from Hell because he knew Buck hated it - making herself comfortable in the kitchen with a half-empty champagne glass in her grasp and a knowing smirk on her face.

“I didn’t realize you were coming by, Eddie, I—“ Buck began, but Eddie held up his hand. It was then that he noticed Taylor’s discarded shoes next to the kitchen island and the already empty bottle of champagne on the counter.

“No, I’m— I’m sorry for barging in like this. I’ve clearly interrupted…” Eddie trailed off, tearing his eyes away from Taylor to gaze back at Buck, “whatever this is so I’ll just head out.”

“Why don’t you join us, Firefighter Diaz? We’ve got extra champagne to celebrate our successes today and I’m definitely not one to turn away fine looking men on such a beautiful night,” Taylor commented and Eddie noticed the glare Buck shot at her. He also noticed the twinkle in Buck’s eyes and the way his lip tugged up at the corner like he couldn’t help but be amused by her.

“You two have— a night. Together. Without, uh, me,” Eddie said before he rushed out the door.

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

The door slamming interrupted the giggles bursting from Taylor’s lips. Buck knew she was tipsy - they both were, in all fairness, - but the way she snorted and then laughed some more told him she was far beyond safe to drive home that night.

“Oh my god, that poor dude, he just— came in here guns a-blazing,” Taylor said and then laughed more, presumably at her own ridiculous joke. She took a deep breath and shook her head, staring up at a wide-eyed Buck. “Well, what the hell are you still doing in here, idiot?”

“What? Where else would I—?” Taylor grabbed the cork from the counter and threw it directly at Buck’s head. It bounced off his temple and hit the floor before Buck reflexes could catch up to him. “Damn, Kelly, you play softball at journalism school or something?”

“Yeah, it’s what gave me such a good gaydar,” she replied. Buck was unsure how that was relevant to the conversation and tilted his head at her, pursing his lips in questions. “Buck, Eddie was trying to tell you he’s in love with you,” Taylor said, her voice more serious than he thought she’d be capable of with so much alcohol in her system.

“You’re not stupid, Buck, and I know I tell you all the time that you are, but you know I don’t mean it,” Taylor said, walking over to Buck and resting a comforting hand on his bicep. “Eddie was just spouting poetry at you, dude. You heard what happened over at dispatch today. If Josh hadn’t been so on his game, there’s a solid chance that Eddie - the entire team - might have—“

“Oh my god, he—“ All of sudden, Eddie’s words caught up with him. All I could think about was you. You’re my person. Forever. The words flashed in Buck’s mind like lightning on a hot summer night and he wasn’t sure he was breathing anymore.

“He loves you,” Taylor reassured, nudging him toward the door. All it took was the familiar beep of Eddie’s car unlocking for Buck to surge into action.

He threw himself down the stairs at least two at a time and pushed the door open with a huff and a shout for Eddie; his partner, his best friend, the person he had been in love with since the very beginning. Eddie stopped but didn’t turn, and Buck could see the white-knuckled grip he had on the door handle even in the limited light.

Buck was never good at saying the right thing. He spoke without thinking more often than not which anyone that had ever had a conversation with Buck would attest to, but he knew that he couldn’t do that then. Whatever he chose to say at that very moment would make or break their relationship even further than it might have already been the moment Eddie laid his eyes on Taylor.

He had it all planned out before. He would ask Eddie out on a real date and when he inevitably thought they were getting dinner as friends, Buck would declare his intentions with a brave voice and hope with everything in him that Eddie felt the same. He straightened his spine, brought his shoulders back, and crossed his arms over his chest, but the voice that followed did nothing to match the strong stance.

“Athena arrested me today,” Buck noted, cursing himself at the ridiculous start. When Eddie didn’t turn around, Buck took a cautious step forward and rested a hand on his shoulder, grateful for the way his grip eased on the door. “I got into trouble that I shouldn’t have to try to do the right thing and it was probably reckless and stupid, but I did it as I’m sure you knew I would,” Buck laughed and shook his head as he admitted, “and the entire time I wished it was you beside me.”

He ignored the shout from Taylor who apparently didn’t like that comment.

“I didn’t know you were the one getting shot at, but if I did, I— I don’t think Athena could’ve kept me in that interview room,” Buck said, grateful when Eddie turned on him with wide eyes.

“Wait, Thena literally arrested you?” Eddie asked incredulously, but Buck saw the little bit of amusement in his eye anyway.

“I mean, nothing that’ll show up on record, cause you know I would’ve called you to bail me out,” Buck noted. Eddie laughed and looked down at the keys in his hands and Buck took the chance to move one step closer. “I didn’t know you were there, putting yourself in the line of fire, Eddie. The second I heard you say it, I couldn’t hear anything else because I was too worried that even though you were standing right in front of me, there was a chance you could not have been.”

“You didn’t… hear me?” Eddie asked, glancing up at Buck like his worst fear had come true. Buck was pretty sure the adrenaline rush Eddie had was washed away by seeing Taylor in his apartment and if that was Buck, he wouldn’t have the courage to say all that he admitted again. So Buck let himself take the reins.

“Do you wanna get dinner?” He asked, just as he had practiced so many times before.

“Do I want to…”

“God, Diaz, just say yes so that I can go pass out on Buck’s couch with the satisfaction of all the good I’ve done today,” Taylor yelled and Buck glared at her once again.

“Does saying yes to you mean I have to like her?” Eddie asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

Buck huffed out a laugh and said, “She grows on you.”

“Sounds like someone else I know,” Eddie commented as he locked his car doors again and pushed past Buck as easily as he had a few minutes ago.

“Is that a yes, then?” Buck asked as he jogged to catch up, bumping his waist into Eddie’s as they reached the front door.

“Got any more champagne?” Eddie asked, avoiding Buck’s question. Taylor let out a snort as she followed them into Buck’s apartment.

“Oh, I like this one, Buck. He’s gonna be good for you,” Taylor said before throwing herself on the couch and leaving the two men in the kitchen.

“He already is,” Buck muttered, staring over at Eddie who had helped himself to a beer he had no doubt left in Buck’s fridge. “Except he still hasn’t answered my—“

“Yes, Buck. Dinner sounds great.” And it really, really did.

#buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buck x eddie #eddie x buck #buddie fic #coda fic #911 coda #911 on fox #911 spoilers #ish #its not that spoilery i dont think??#idk asldkjf;as #HOW THE SCENE SHOULD HAVE GONE IMO #my writing #hope you like it!

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something-fanfiction-ie · 5 years

Text

24 Hours

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Warnings: You get buried alive and uhm... I think a curse word or two?

A/N: So, before you notice, yes this is largely based on season two episode nine of Bones, Aliens in the Spaceship. Also, yes this is a criminal minds imagine and yes I’ve hopelessly and irrevocably fallen in love with Matthew Gray Gubler. Please like, comment, reblog, and send me asks, I love that shit. Also, if you’ve never seen criminal minds, you should watch it. Even if only for Dr. Spencer Reid aka Matthew Gray Gubler. You’re welcome in advance.

___

“Hey Spenny, I’m going out to get some coffee. Do you want anything?” Your voice echoed around in Spencer’s head, the image of you waving at him from the door as you walked away imprinted into his mind. Would it be the last time he would ever see you?

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N) has been buried alive,” Hotchner stood in the front of the room with Spencer’s phone on speaker. The whole team sat around the table with varying degrees of horror displayed on their faces as the realization dawned on them, “Wire transfer five million dollars to the following Grand Cayman account.” Spencer buried his head in his hands, his fingers tangling into his hair.

Your eyes were on him as you waved over your shoulder, stepping through the door with just a glance and a smile. He kept playing it through his mind in slow motion. Now you were underground, running out of air and running out of time.

“Upon receipt of the wire transfer, I will provide you with Agent (Y/L/N)’s GPS coordinates. You have 24 hours. This will be my last communication.” The BAU jumped into action, people pulling the files from the previous abductions and swapping theories.

“Where in the hell are we going to get five million dollars? The FBI has a strict policy about not paying ransoms.” Morgan slammed a fist on the table, gritting his teeth as his mind raced.

“Her parents.” Spencer looked up, pulling himself out of his head. He needed to be actively helping. They had twenty four hours and sitting at the table with his head in his hands wouldn’t help anything.

Pushing away from the table, the young doctor stood up to look at Agent Hotchner.

“When her parents died they left everything to her. She’s never touched it, said it felt too much like blood money.” Hotchner nodded, looking across the room to Garcia who looked as shell shocked as Spencer felt. Not only had her dear friend been abducted and buried alive, but she had been telling secrets about her parents to Reid and not her?!

“Garcia I need you to find out who she banks with, JJ get them on the phone and see what you can do. If we can pay the ransom we will. If not, we’ll have to figure where she is.” Both women nodded, rushing back to Garcia’s office. The remaining agents started to map the location of every burial site.

“Well, at least we know she’s in Virginia.”

...

When you woke up, rolling into the leather backseat in you car, your brain felt like it was exploding. Your entire body ached, and for a minute, too focused on the pain, you didn’t realize where you were.

It hurt to sit up, to breathe, to look around, and when your brain connected every dot it hurt to think.

“I’ve been buried alive.” You said it aloud, staring at the rocks and dirt that pressed against every window. Thinking felt like walking through sludge, but why?

You’d been working on a case. Four victims in four months, all buried alive, all coming from wealthy backgrounds. Every victim varied in age, race, and sex. It appeared you were number five. There would be a call, maybe two hours after you’d been buried. It would be the only means of communication, there would be a high ransom.

None of this information could help you though. You were underground, what is around you, (Y/N)?

In your glove compartment was a small digital camera, a pen, and some napkins. In your center console was a bottle of water, a small tube of sunscreen, and some loose change. Your phone was on the floor but the battery had been taken out, and sitting in the backseat was a box with a book delicately placed inside.

A first edition copy of Sonnets from the Portuguese, the pages yellowed with age. To just anyone, it was an old book with some poems inside, but you knew that Spencer would understand the moment he opened the box. Elizabeth Barrett Browning had written the series of sonnets to her husband as they were courting. Inside was a poem you had confessed to Spencer was your absolute favorite.

“I’m kind of a cliche hopeless romantic,” you laughed, afraid to look at him for the fear that he would think you were just a silly girl. “But my favorite poem is How Do I Love Thee?”

“By Elizabeth Barrett Browning?” When you looked at him, his expression hadn’t changed from that of a simple curiosity. You relaxed a little, glad to reveal the intimate detail about yourself without backlash.

You had spent such a long time trying to bury the persona of a teenage hopeless romantic underneath the facade that you were only concerned for logic, knowledge, and psychology. You’d never understood why wanting to love and be loved made you any less intelligent.

“I’ve dedicated that poem to the man I hope to marry one day.” A small smile twitched at the edges of his lips as you looked down at your nails, picking at the dirt underneath them. Your face felt like it was on fire. Why had you told him that?

In an uncharacteristic display of affection, Spencer reached across the divide between your desks and put his hand over yours. He squeezed, his expression gentle when you met his gaze.

“He will be a lucky man.”

Tears pricked at the back of your eyes at the thought of Spencer. Would you ever see him again? Would you even be alive in twenty-four hours?

Panic seemed to take control, propelling forward. You screamed, crying hysterically as you pounded against the windows.

“Help me! I’m in here! Please!” You didn’t stop until your hands were bruised, not caring about the amount of oxygen it had taken from your already limited supply. After the panic came a numbness that spread through your body and mind. You weren’t sure how long you stayed staring into your hands, sitting cross-legged in the front seat, but when you finally came back to yourself you knew you had to truly fight.

Gathering everything you’d found in your car, you started to think of what you could do. A camera, a phone, a pen, a napkin, some change, a book, sunscreen, a bottle of water.

Think, (Y/N), think. What is around you?

“Dirt.” Then you gasped, scrambling back to the front of the car. Using the window crank, you let bits of the dirt fall inside before rolling the window back up and grabbing a handful.

Just by looking you could tell there was ash, a couple of sniffs told you there was nitrogen and sulfur. You spit into the dirt. Coal rich soil. But that was all of Virginia, that didn’t tell you anything.

Think, (Y/N), think.

A camera, a phone, a pen, a napkin, some change, a book, sunscreen, a bottle of water. A camera, a phone, a pen, a napkin, some change, a book, sunscreen, a bottle of water.

“That’s it!” Carefully, you shifted the dirt to the top of the center console. Mixing a dab of sunscreen into the dirt, you powered on the camera and grabbed the pen which, conveniently, had a laser on the end.

Just like that you knew where you were. You just had to find a way to tell the others.

...

“We can’t get the money from the bank, she has it completely closed off from anyone touching any of that money. They won’t even tell us how much she has.” JJ ran her fingers through her hair, turned in her chair to face the team that had gathered into Garcia’s office.

“It was a long shot anyways, you typically have to have your name on the bank account to be able to withdraw any money.” Hotchner looks to the rest of the agents clustered next to him, hoping that one of them would have something.

“Did we get anything from the geographic profile?” He made direct eye contact with Reid, watching as he stepped forward and nodded for Garcia to pull up a map. Red lines popped up at each of the four crime scenes, connecting to the location the victim lived. Salem to Lovingston. Stuart to Winchester. Boydton to Marion. Louisa to Yorktown.

“Each of the burial sites is two to four hours away from where the victims lived which would put (Y/N) in this general vicinity.” Using his finger, Reid circles an area on the map around Quantico. No one mentions the shaking of his hand.

“There’s nothing else to narrow down the search.” His voice cracks at the end and no one can meet his eyes. JJ flinches at the sound, tightening her hand around the edge of the desk. It isn’t until Hotch goes to send the team back to work that a chime breaks the silence in the room.

Reid scrambles for his phone, fishing it out of his pocket and flipping it open.

“Who is it from? The Gravedigger? What did he say?” Everyone crowds around him, trying to get a peak at the message.

“It’s from (Y/N).”

6 7 16 M1.4

“What the hell does that mean?” Penelope says.

...

You’re not sure how long its been, but you can feel the oxygen getting low. Your eyes feel heavy, like you’re tired, and if you move just a little too fast the world shifts and sways like you’re on a boat.

After hot wiring the phone to the car, you’d leaned against the horn and typed the shortest message you could as fast as possible. When the phone sparked and died, you weren’t even sure if the messsge had gone through. You could only hope.

For now, you’ve crawled into the back, opening the book to read through it. If you’re going to die, at least you can read your favorite poems one more time. With every sonnet comes a memory of Spencer.

“Actually,” Spencer begins, stepping forward to point out something no one had even thought of, gesturing between pictures and referencing something only he could see in his mind. You’d worked a couple of cases with the team at this point, getting to know each individual who sat at this table with you.

Spencer turned back to the group and there it was, for just a fraction of a second he looked at all the older people at the table like a little boy looking for acceptance and recognition. Looking for approval. Your heart flipped over itself and your crossed your arms, hoping this wasn’t the start of a silly crush.

You flip to the next sonnet, reading it in a whisper as another memory hits you.

“I’m scared, Spencer.” You met his eyes, heart hammering in your chest as JJ strapped a mic to your bra strap. You were going undercover in an attempt to lure out the unsub, and although you knew every single one of your team members would be ready to have your back at a moments notice, you couldn’t shake the fear.

“Why?” It wasn’t harsh the way he said it, looking at you from the desk he was sitting on as JJ stepped away and out of the room to give the two of you some privacy. You started to button up your shirt, trying to breathe away the shaking of your hands.

“I’m afraid something is going to go wrong. That I’ll say or do something that will tip him off and he’ll kill me.” Spencer stepped forward, not touching you but looking into your eyes as you smoothed your hands down your sides.

“I’ll be there before he has the chance. I’ll take that shot. But I don’t believe I’ll have to do that because I know you have the ability to do this without a hitch. You’ve got this.” He raised his eyebrows, waiting for you to be okay. He wouldn’t let them send you in if you didn’t give him the okay. You could see that in the way he positioned himself between you and the door, ready to take the brunt of any frustration in order for you to feel safe.

“Okay. I trust you.”

And you did trust him. That’s why you were saving your last trick, waiting for him to put together the last of the puzzle piece he needed in order to save you. Spencer was going to find you, you had no doubt.

You just weren’t sure if you would survive the trick or not.

...

“Six, seven, sixteen, M, one point four.” Spencer stood staring at the board where they had copied the text, going over every possible meaning he could think of.

A book? No.

A math problem? No.

Coordinates? No.

Theories were being thrown across the room at rapid fire, everyone trying to think of the meaning to the cryptic message. They were all still huddled into Garcia’s office, so the voices echoed and bounced around the room.

“She’s been down there for fourteen hours, we’ve got nothing! She’s already running out of oxygen, I’m honestly starting to doubt it means anything.” Derek passed a hand over his face, patting at his cheeks as his eyes grew heavy.

“No. She’s highly intelligent and extremely resourceful, the message means something but wh-” Reid froze. In his mind he could see the periodic table.

“What is it, Reid?” Gideon looked at him, watching as his brain started to fly.

“Garcia pull up a map of Virginia.” She did as she was told, pulling up the map with one point in Quantico.

“Six on the periodic table is carbon, seven is nitrogen, sulfur is sixteen. She’s telling us the dirt she’s in.” Quick to catch on, Garcia zoomed the map onto coal rich soil in Virginia. It wasn’t enough.

“Coal can’t be distinguished by mineral composition, it’s all the same. However, macerals are unique in that they flouresce at different levels. In this case, 1.4, which is rare. It only occurs when there are high concentrations of inertinite.” The map zoomed, Penelope’s fingers flying across the keys as Spencer spoke.

“Got her.”

...

Settling your napkin letter atop the book, you nestled the lid to the gift box back on top. You tied the bow tight before tucking the whole thing into the waistband of your jeans. There was no guarantee it would make it, there was no guarantee you would make it, but you had waited long enough.

Grabbing both ends of the wires you’d stripped, you climbed into the back, hands shaking at the thought of what you were about to do.

“I’m scared.” You said. You heard Spencer, saw him leaning against a window seal in your mind. He looked at you from behind those glasses that always reminded you of a 60’s NASA engineer. His hair was pushed back, the ends curling around his ears in a way that made you itch to loop them around a finger.

Why?

“What if I never see you again?” Tears you hadn’t even known were in your eyes spilled over onto your cheeks, dripping onto the thighs of your pants. He changed now, taking on various Spencer’s from your past.

Spencer looking up from paperwork to listen to a question, eyebrows raised and eyes wide. His lips parted ever so slightly while a piece of his hair dangled out of place on his forehead.

Spencer leaned against the bar, waving down the bartender mid laugh. His tie is loose and his shirt is untucked, his hair is adorably disheveled and his eyes are crinkled around the edges.

Spencer asleep on the jet home, his cheek cradled in one hand, his elbow propped on the armrest. His long legs are stretched out, his other hand splayed on top of his chest which rose and fell with each breath.

Spencer standing in the elevator, the surprise of someone calling his name turning into a small smile when he recognizes you racing to the doors. He reaches out to press a button before using both hands to grab onto the strap of his bag. He looks down at you as you enter with a look in his eyes you’ve never been able to identify.

And the Spencer you’ve only ever dreamed about.

His eyes fluttering open after a long night spent proving his love, the sun filtering through the window and reflecting on him in such a way that it makes you wish you could paint. The sheets are bunched around his waist, his chest is bare, and his smile is so sleepy that it swells your heart to ten times it’s normal size.

We’ll see each other soon. You’ve got this.

“Okay,” you say it with conviction, forcing your hands to stop shaking, “I trust you.” And then without a moments hesitation, tears still running down your face, you touch the wires together.

The world explodes.

“There!” Spencer races for the place he saw the puff of dirt, nearly tripping over himself as he runs faster than he’s ever run before. Everyone follows, dropping to there knees with Spencer as he starts to push at the stone and sand at his feet.

“Please be here. Please be here.” He keeps saying, his heart climbing into his throat with every passing second he doesn’t find you. That is, until his fingers brush across an arm. He shoves down into the dirt, ignoring every instinct that tells him to stay clean. It’s you, it’s your arm. Then it’s your head, your shoulders and chest, your stomach, your legs, and then it’s you.

He pulls you on top of him, laying in the dirt with you pulled so close that you could meld into one person. You groan into his ear, pushing up just a little to get a better look at the man under you.

“I forgot your coffee.” He laughs, tears spilling onto the sides of his face as he wraps his arms back around you.

...

It’s late by the time you’ve been seen by what feels like every doctor and psychologist in the state. There’s bruises on your wrists and ankles you hadn’t noticed during your time underground and a cut on the back of your head where you’d been hit in order to be knocked unconscious. Not to mention the tiny cuts all over your arms and face from crawling through a shattered windshield and up through rocks and dirt.

You stood in the conference room, arms crossed as you leaned against the table and stared. Staring back at you was your own face, tacked to the evidence board with four other victims.

“I tried going to your apartment, but nobody answered the door.” Spencer is standing in the doorway of the conference room, holding a box in his hands. You look down at it before looking back at him. Try as you might, you can’t tell if he’s opened it or not, either you aren’t a good profiler or you were just really tired.

“You left this at the hospital. I figured it was important if you brought it up with you from the car.” Moving into the room, he holds the box out for you to take from him. The ribbon you tied around it is still tightly knotted, the ends shredded from being dragged above ground. There’s specks of dirt that you reach out to brush to the floor before looking back at Spencer.

“It’s yours.” You reply, scooting back to sit on the table, watching curiously as he looks back down. Pulling the box back to his chest, he slips the ribbon off in one fluid motion. The lid is next and you watch as he reaches in to pull out what you had believed to be your last words.

It isn’t much, and there’s a possibility you don’t feel the same way, but I’ve realized that I’m hopelessly and irrevocably in love with you. I trust you with my life and my heart. I’m only scared now of losing you. -(Y/I)

He doesn’t look up at you and he doesn’t set the napkin aside, only moves his hand so the note is out of his line of sight as he sees the book inside.

“‘I love thee with all the breath, smiles, tears of all my life.’” He says it almost in a whisper before setting the note back in the box, and the box on the table.

“How long have you been waiting to give this to me?” When he looks at you, finally, there is wonder in his eyes, amazement.

“I bought the book last month, but I’ve known how I felt about you for six months.” You pick at the edge of the table, swinging your legs ever so slightly. Spencer moves in front of you, blocking your view of the evidence board.

“I don’t believe in love at first sight. Robert Sternberg developed the theory that love is made of three components; intimacy, passion, and commitment. None of which can be present during a first meeting. But I think I knew that I would love you. I knew from the very first time you walked in those doors and you bumped into me.” He reaches his hand out, only hesitating for just a moment before he takes you cheek in his hand.

“Can I kiss you?” He leaned so close that if he were just a hair closer, you lips would brush together as he spoke. You’ve already closed your eyes, every nerve lit up like the Fourth of July in anticipation.

“Yes.” You barely get it out before his lips collide with yours, you can feel every emotion from the last twenty four hours being poured into this kiss; fear, anxiety, sadness, confusion, anger, relief, love, safety.

You reach out to loop your arms around his neck, the kiss deepening as he grabs your hips to slide you closer. When he finally breaks the kiss, his chest heaving and his cheeks flushed, it takes him a minute to open his eyes.

“Why aren’t you at home?”

“I’m scared.”

“Why?” You loop the hair that curls against his neck around your index finger, licking your lips before responding.

“Because I’m afraid this will all be a dream and I’ll wake up back in that car.” Your breath hitches in your throat, the panic grabbing at your heart and lungs and barely leaving you anytime to process the plethora of things that have happened to you in the last thirty minutes.

“Come sleep at my place, that way you wake up with me by your side.” He steps away from the table, reaching out a hand for you to take. It takes you no time at all to make your decision, grabbing his hand and sliding off the table.

“Okay, I trust you.”

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hunterartemis · 4 years

Text

Media Bias (Avengers X Alien!Reader)

It was a request from anonymous reader and since I have limited experience with tagging, I am going to quote the person’s request here:

“ Hi can you please do Avengers x reader where the reader is like Starfire from og teen titans (but the reader is green and the blasts are blue) and the Avengers go on a talk show and the host is being very mean to her. Thanks”

So, dear anonymous. I hope you enjoy!“

Words: a whopping 4100

Y/n, open the door” I heard Sam thudding away on my door as I buried myself in the layers of blanket and put the air condition humid enough to cause a mini monsoon.

“Go away Wilson and leave me alone--” I bellowed on top of my voice.

“Y/n it’s been more than 7 hrs, you got to come out... whatever happened in the morning you gotta let it go--”

“I don’t wanna let it go... I am a national embarrassment--”

You must be thinking, what is the situation you’ve been dragged into. Let me pause there and rewind 17 hours back to give you a complete understanding which lead to this complete mess.

People think our story ended and sealed with Thanos never got to see what we go through in the New York penthouse. With the ongoing Pandemic on board, people are desperate to see us even more, as if it is the new Thanos and we are to defeat it. There is no greater sense of helplessness than playing the puppet of courage without doing anything. So whoever wrote that “after the defeat of big bad, the heroes rejoice” was a big idiot.

And thus, I found myself awake after hours, sitting alongside the broad glass panel that showed the completely stopped-in-time, shining in the dark cityscape of once bustling New York. A fleeting sense of desolation plagued me as I remember my own world in the verge of extinction. My breath almost stopped in the great worry of my fellow living being in this planet; the one who saved me from destitution--

“y/n, is that you?”A calm and concerned paternal voice broke the train of my thought. I sharply looked behind my shoulder to see a disheveled figure of man standing in the dark. By the tousled curls and the slouched hem of the sweatpants, I knew was Bruce.

“Urh, you startled me!” I said with a dismissive voice. I felt almost embarrassed to realize what I was thinking moments ago. I took a deep breath and tried to compose myself.

“It’s you who startled me y/n, what are you doing up so late?” Bruce said with a groggy voice rubbing his eyes rather irritatingly. “We have an important event to attend tomorrow first thing in the morning” he slowly moved towards from the shadowy part of the room to the path of dimmed light from the glass panel and spared a long glance at my face. The way he looked at me sometimes irritated me, because it was an inalienable fact that he fell into the same category of humans who express an unhealthy obsession with my kind: a scientist.

“It’s not like I enjoy staying up like you Lowly Human...I am as stressed for tomorrow as you are!” I tore my face from his ken to express my displeasure. In reply, he sighed disappointedly, which sounded patronizing in my already agitated mind.

“I wish you’d stop insulting my specie whenever you get upset...” he gently put his hand in my shoulder, but soon he withdrew and stepped back. “And what is that god-awful smell?”

Any female whether she is human or not is very sensitive to criticism, especially about how she appears, thus Bruce’s comment was not only offensive but hurtful as well. I could not restrain my anger and annoyance anymore, and I stood up sharply to face him “I just happen to wet myself in the rain yesterday at my detour downtown and it turns out it has too much sulphuric acid and it is peeling my skin away... right before when I am about to go up close on television.” My hand subconsciously moved up to my cheek, where flakes were forming in my otherwise jade smooth skin. “And you are telling me to stop insulting your specie... I will when you unicellular cretins will stop ruining your own environment—“ I folded my arms defensively, gazing away from Bruce’s face “--as if I don’t get ridiculed enough for my chrorophyllic skintone, and now I am shedding like a common reptile.”

“Alright alright I am sorry...” Bruce threw up his arms defensively, and his small paces back and forth showed his discomfort more than anything, “do you want something for your skin, CeraVe or something? I can fetch you some ice if you want?”

His apologetic gesture made my whole effort defeated; but my pride disrupted me from being apologetic “Forget it... as if those human manures would work on my skin—“ I heaved a sigh and looked at him again “must we do the thing? I mean I am not the only alien that set foot on earth in this decade, why must I be walked around like a showdog in front of all the people?”

For some moments Bruce did not answer me. I almost thought he was ignoring me, but then I realised that he must be contemplating on every word he wanted to say and every word that was running through his brilliant mind. Out of anyone in the team, Bruce was the visual hole, the less than heroic material: even with the Hulk. And for this, the society made sure that he would be self conscious for the rest of his life for his other identity. My annoyance almost melted to sympathy when I heard him speak in a rather frustrated voice.

“Y/N, I know that you are stressed about this and frankly I hate this stuff too, but this is very important for the people: for your people as well as ours. Not all things that come from the space are benign and people need reassurance that you are not hostile. I hate this too, but it is for the greater good!”

“Greater good, greater good... it is always for the greater good!” The same old daily whining of lofty agenda made me sick “I am sick and tired of these Brucie, I don’t want to do this anymore... I am tired about people asking me weird questions and cretins posing as scientists trying to push probes on me the first chances they get-- I wish I could just disappear with the portal that brought me in this cursed place!“

Bruce came closer and grabbed my shoulders gently “Don’t say that y/n... otherwise we wouldn’t have the means to counterattack all those aliens—“ my silence might have given him the cue that he wasn’t doing a very good job at convincing. His wavering eyes fixed on my face once again as he spoke “okay, here is a deal: how about it is the last time you appear in public, hm? Once you satisfy them that you are part of the team, I swear people will leave you alone... they left the Hulk alone too once they understood that he is one of the good guys!”

“No but...“

“No ifs and buts... go, and have some sleep. Let me look in the lab if we have some squalanes and peptide solutions lying around—“ he said with a paternal affection and disappeared into the dark passage which lead to his room

“Thanks Brucie you are the best—“

I couldn’t help but to smile a little. Humans!

...

“This is a bad idea I am telling you--“ I told Bruce with an hushed tone as the makeup artist went on with a puff on my face for the millionth times. The rest of my team was behind me, getting the same attentions to their dismay. I could tell Bucky was downright uncomfortable as his makeup artist had a hard time getting not distracted by his bionic arm; and Wanda was downright glaring at the man who kept flicking the brush on her nose.

“relax y/n, you are smart and you are friendly, you are going to ace this and trust me people are going to love you--“ Bruce said with gritted teeth to make sure no one could tell what he was saying. He almost flinched as some of the powder made into his nose and the makeup artist followed him up with a q-tip.

“My face is itchy...“ I whispered again, trying not to gouge my face out with my nails as the powder sat on the flaky part of the cheek. If this wasn’t a studio I would have scratched my face like a lunatic and ended up as someone who was attacked by a bear in the mountains. And I was glad that I was standing beside Bruce who knew how not to go overboard with the things. Clint would have brushed them off, Wanda and Bucky would have panicked, and Sam’s gestures no matter how genuine would have made me laugh.

“Wanda already told the makeup artist to spray you with Squalane, your face isn’t half as bad as it were yesterday night“ Bruce then went on politely gesturing the makeup artist to spray the stuff Bruce brought from the lab in a clear bottle, and the look on the Makeup Artist’s face was between annoyance and bursting into tears.

“Brucie...“ “I don’t wanna mess it up--“ I said nervously as we walked into the couch and settled with the others.

“Trust me you won’t... “ Bruce graciously consoled me.

The cameraman cued and we were all gestured to look into the main camera as the lights in front of us adjusted accordingly. Within all hustle and bustle, the host walked in like a royalty, and by the looks of his face and those following him with makeup and refreshment, he had a really bad morning.

“We will go on air in 3, 2 and 1”

“Good Morning America, this is your host Justin Fallon and welcome to another episode of The Early Show. Today we have with us some really special guests. You might know them from News, the murals, the comics and the Merchs please welcome our own global superheroes: The Avengers. Welcome to our show” the host said with an uncomfortable friendliness and turned towards us.

"Thanks for having us with you" Sam answered graciously, with a little awkwardness. I could understand why; it was always Tony, Steve and Natasha who spoke in public. After such a terrible loss, he is struggling to fill up their shoes for the sake of our public image. He had been wrapped up into a pretty bad controversy recently for succeeding as Captain America and it had a pretty bad toll on him—to the point his speech kind of went from cheerful to composed in an unnatural way.

"It’s been way too long since our morning couch looked so colorful and it surely brightens up the day.” The host said with an obligatory politeness. Although the term was innocent enough but it seemed not so—I instantly froze up and million things started flying inside my head: was I looking good enough, is my patches showing under the layers of power and squalane. Turns out it was not me alone. From the corner of my eye I could sense the tension behind me from Clint and Bucky and I know it was different than mine. The host must have wanted the old team, and looked like he was stuck with the mediocre leftovers.

“Thank you...“ Sam replied.

“So here you guys are after averting the big wipeout crisis, in the quiet and chilling, so how does it feel to be in the pensive from being hyperactive all the time?“

“Well, at first it did feel kind of boring and lack luster, but slowly we are adjusting to it. With the ongoing Pandemic crisis I think we just have to adjust to the situation. In a way, I think we are all helping each other by staying inside and recuperating.” Sam answered diplomatically.

“That’s so nice” the interviewer said quite curtly and then changing the topic he sharply turned to Doctor Banner “I know of all you people Dr. Banner will find this Lockdown Leisure slightly more comforting, isn’t that so Doctor Banner?”

Wait, what was that? Was that even normal? Sam was sitting in the front and after him Bucky, then Wanda and then Bruce. Should not he come gradually? Breathe... maybe I am reading too much into this. Keep a friendly face, don’t think too much... the entire nation is watching... this is the one time I have to do things right! It’s for me, my team who housed me and my people.

I had to give props to Bruce for managing things calmly despite his claims about public speaking. He politely replied “Well theoretically it should be but it’s not like causes of anger cannot exist within the so called peaceful environment if you think about it, but I am glad you showed your concern” and like a pro, reached out to the glass in front of him to sip some water—like some real celebs in talk shows.

“Isn’t that true! So Solaris, how does it feel to be surrounded by the icons of the earth?”

I wasn’t really ready for the sudden attention. For a second I blanked out completely and gaped my mouth like a complete idiot. My stupefied face must have been quite prominent because the host tried to laugh it off lightly to divert the attention. I am still wrapping my head around the fact how some humans work so beautifully under so much attention—If I could choose between blasting off alien armies and speaking in talk shows, I will take the aliens instead.

“I..I--It’s quite fun... there is never a dull moment with them--“ I manage to utter, and thankfully it wasn’t a gurgling sound from a deep abyss.

“The thing is, being the most newest member, you sort of have a mystery around you, the kind of a Blue Comet sort--“

“Oh thank you— “ great going me, like a real talk show celeb—keep it up!

“So why don’t we break that down... Solaris, is that true that you came from a whole another galaxy which is not Milky Way?” the Talk show host asked, reading from a small piece of card.

Finally, something I can talk about all day: stars, planets and galaxy. I will have to slay this, I chanted inside and replied after drawing a breath “Yes that’s true. I am from Planet Auriga from Pleiades system. Our Sun is Alcyone, the second brightest star right after Aldebaran. You people call our system Taurus Constellation--”

“--so much astrophysics, take notes kids they might ask you at the NASA interview.“ the talk show host interrupted. It annoyed me greatly because I could finish the words I worked so hard to speak confidently. So that’s how Bruce must feel all the time when people interrupted him when he explains things. However the host went on as if nothing happened “For a near human creature in this planet, do you identify more with the Professor X’s troop or with the Avengers?”

Near human creature? My race is literally the most Superior in all of galaxy.

“I don’t really understand what you mean...” I said as politely as I could manage.

“I mean isn’t it hard to fit in when you are the only alien in the group--“

The flippant remark was rude and I tried not to wrap my head around it. I recalled Bruce’s words to keep cool and maintain a neutral face replied : “I mean I am not the only one, Thor is also not of the earth and he is a darling to be around. Alien or not I think I have learned a lot about myself and the ways of earth by spending time with this wonderful people?“

I could hear the audience clapping and cheering with my reply. A surge of pride swept across my chest and I smiled slightly at the audience.

“How sweet--“ the host said, keeping with the cheerful mood “as the outer world people are coming into the planets, we think a lot of things are shifting, do you find it hard to cope into the earth from where you come from--“

Finally, a thoughtful question, I made a solid eye contact with the host and replied “No, the atmosphere is pretty much the same in Auriga, but I think humans can do a lot better taking care of the environment. I know for a fact that millions of planets and their lifeforms were extinct because of excesses I see on earth.”

The thoughtfulness of the host was only for so long “The girl’s been around... if you know what I mean—“ he commented with a little wink, and from the audience’s laugh I knew he didn’t mean something polite or mildly positive. After the laughter subsided, he turned again to me “I dig the midnight blue hair... it is so contradictory and yet it works“ he complimented “because you know scale and hair are not something we see very often in our planet--“

Excuse me, what was that supposed to mean?

“--so tell me are the lapis cascades all natural? I mean they are not dyed at all?”

“No they are not... the special keratin bond that reflect the blue pigment of the natural light but they are actually transparent—“ I added objectively.

“So that means in the right lighting you don’t need to mow the bush—“ the host said with a curved smile on his lips, and the audience went on laughing in the same manner they did moments ago.

Even under the blowing airconditioner, I started t feel really warm around my neck “I really don’t know what you mean; you are making any sense at all! Do you guys need special light to mow the bush, do you do in the solstices or during the eclipses—“ this time I didn’t hide the fact that I was annoyed.

“--she is really really funny you guys--“ the host again smiled and acted like I was a stone wall and my reaction didn’t register in his mind at all. “So you are saying you don’t mow your bush at all?“

“I live in a New York Penthouse, there is no bush--“ honestly if this wasn’t a dumb talk show, I would have taught this impudent human a lesson.

The host looked a little uncomfortable as our eye contact lasted for several seconds. He cleared his throat and went on “Okay you guys, she just clarified that there is no bush, so let’s move on to your...your look... I am so fascinated by it, it’s so reptile chic--“

What’s your fascination with cold blooded animals? Are you asking to die like one?

“Um, thanks...?!”

“So how do you manage to maintain this--“

That was honestly the last straw. This host is impolite and rude and he leeches off the discomfort of his talk show host. When this realisation hit, all my self-control and self preservation went out of the window. The vacuum was replaced by the sheer annoyance towards the host who deliberately mistreated us since the beginning.

“Do you think that’s how I live, maintaining my skin and mowing the bush--“ my pitch rose from my previous composed tone “I mean what kind of questions are these?“

The host was still wearing his phony smile on his face, but I could see the colour slightly draining off his face “No I was just asking, because the audience wants to know--“

“I think the audience is smart enough to understand that they cannot get the green skin on natural blue hair, so can you move on to a more sensible question?“ I answered heatedly and defensively at the same time, and as I spoke I felt the aura of tension shifting from discomfort to sheer panic.

“Y/n... don’t do this--” I heard Bucky whisper very faintly from above.

“Solaris, don’t get me wrong, but we don’t always get a green-skin hottie on the morning couch, don’t be offended!” he said while he gestured covertly to cut the camera on the other side. I have to give this man an applause , I could tell he had busted all his courage but he kept the face of nonchalance too good to be true—no wonder he sat on this chair for so long.

“What’s your obsession with the skin colour?—“ I said heatedly as I stood up from my seat “Don’t you dare cut the camera... don’t you dare! Do you think you humans are the epitome of beauty from which point everyone in the galaxy should confirm? I am sick of this... Everyone, I am so sorry for your wasted time but no more of this!”

“Solaris--“ this time it was Sam’s voice that implored me from the sides. For a split second I felt bad for him, because as Captain America, he would have to take the heat from the public. But I was at the point of no return. If I back out now, I would be called a pushover and I would have to endure that image for the rest of my life in the earth.

“You know what, as you are so obsessed with my looks, I would love to show you another thing of mine that is blue--”

Blast

So long story short, Solaris goes to a morning talk show, Solaris encounters a rude host and Solaris blasts him with her Blue Sun Beam. Biggest disaster ever!

The thudding outside the door would not stop, and honestly their over attention was getting on my nerves “honestly, why don’t you go away... what are you, my royal nanny?”

“Very funny Solaris... now come out and get some food--” this time it was Bucky who spoke. Although he was the shortest to reply, but it made me well up. He had the shittiest history amongst all of us: hunted, betrayed, manipulated and now sidelined—how can I see my problems bigger than him.

“How can I... I ruined everything, all the reputation you built throughout the year, I blew it up within 3 minutes, how can I show my face to you guys! I was supposed to be the superior being--“

A moment of silence followed. But then the old familiar calm voice spoke from the other side

“y/n... It’s not about superior or inferior, you were just very very honest with your feeling! sometimes it’s good for the public, sometimes it is not. I mean look at me--I have struggling with my anger all my life and god knows the stuff I have wrecked in Hulk state. It’s okay to make a mistake... no one blames you!”

“Ha ha right...“ I replied sarcastically, feeling mad about how well Bruce understood my situation.

“Honestly, the way you acted today... Tony would have been proud!”

I could not hold myself anymore. All the feeling that has been plaguing me until now: embarrassment, guilt, confusion, sadness... all came down like a thundering rain with that one statement. I rushed and slammed the door open and jumped on Bruce to embrace him into a tight hug. At first I could tell Bruce was taken aback, but soon his firm arms snaked under my back to hold me tightly.

“I am so sorry... I ruined you all--“ I hid my face in Bruce’s shoulder. Suddenly I felt a gentle pat on my back, I straightened up and looked, it was Sam. His awkward cautionary expression was gone and he looked cherry as the old days “As Captain America, I cannot condone your behaviour, but as Sam... well, that jerk deserved it--“ he reached for his pocket and took out his cellphone “and hundred thousand people in New York agree with you“

I looked at him with a curious expression as he gave me his phone. When I looked at it, it was a tabloid video that had the clip of me blasting the host and it had—

“Stars in galaxies!... 100K likes?” I exclaimed

“And look down, there are comments too--” Bucky scrolled down from behind my shoulder to descend to the white space.

That jerk deserves it, he was literally harassing her...You go Solaris #MeToo

Solaris is so cool, I wish I was as cool as her.

Ugh, I hate that morning show host, if I was in her place I would have thrown him off the stark tower, #SunQueen

Racists never change, and We stan our color positive hero #SolarisRocks

Humans...

...

Okay, that took a lot of time because at first I didn’t know how to work on the request, then I had to go back and forth and rewrite most of it two times because I wasn’t convinced it was good. So I sincerely hope it’s good because I am freaked out as hell.

I also gave reader a name because she is inspired by an alien character in TeenTitans called “Starfire”. So I call her Solaris, and was constantly reminded of Solar of Mamamoo (TMI)

I don’t hate on Fallon, I just used his name because it is recognisable by American public and I also had to see a lot of Jimmy Fallon’s show to write about the Talk Show plot. I was also greatly inspired by Naomi Campbell, RDJ and Nicki Minaj’s interviews.

#avengers x reader #alien reader #skin color #teen titans og #starfire inspired #yay I got a request #rude talk show imagine #avengers x reader imagine

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sweetestlamb · 3 years

Text

No Limits

Summary: Today's episode but minus the lies and with extra sexual tension but it gets resolved, somewhat.

Author's note: Today's episode called me a 🤡 too so in between writing my update for BMTL I wrote this drabble to ease my pain I love that the show keeps teasing us I really do it's delicious but I just wanted them to kiss sooooo badly today so here we go! I could keep going if people like 👀👀👀

P.s. Can an Italian tell me what exactly Vinny said to her in episode 3? Netflix says it was stupid idiot but that's stupida idiota and that doesn't sound like what he said to her in the clip. Help a writer out 🥺

She doesn't know if her father would be proud of her, or what she's been doing after turning away from Babel and reforming into a "good guy", it's borderline sanctimonious to consider herself a hero when she had spent most of the night torturing people. The ominous sound of toxic gas flooding the car still swooshes in her head, there was a moment when she'd truly considered going through with it.

Committing murder.

And he hadn't moved a single muscle to stop her, hadn't even uttered her name to pull her back in on the straight and narrow path to righteousness. In the end that had been enough to stop her, he trusted her enough to make the right decision. Every fiber of her being wanted to snuff out their lives the same way they had done to those innocent suffering families, but it was a line she couldn't return from. She should save it for a special occasion, they weren't worth tainting her soul. But there was someone else who was, Babo.

When the opportunity came, she wouldn't hesitate. Her father would have to look away because she wouldn't be stopping that time.

Before she realizes it they are outside her house, her late father's house and he's telling her good night. She'd ran out of excuses to keep sleeping at his apartment. Wanting to see him first thing when she woke up wasn't a reason she could say out loud to him, at least not sober. She was no longer scared of bumps in the night, being alone seemed more terrifying now.

"Drink with me." She whispers instead, falling back on a tried and true plan. They have become regular drinking buddies, using alcohol to cope and detach from the heinous things they see and do daily.

He looks over at her, wistful and searching before nodding solemnly. He unbuckles his belt and slides out of the car, though it is marginal she can see the hesitation in his movement and the night catches up with her. The blood is soaked into the pristine white of his collar, she recalls the hollow feeling in her chest when he didn't answer her calls and she was left with her torturous imagination. His possible death making desperate tears fall despite promising herself she wouldn't cry again.

She makes her way to the bathroom as soon as she enters the eerily quiet space, noticing the way Vincenzo peeks around the corner always on guard and she's thankful for his presence. With him, she's safe.

Pulling open her medicine cabinet she collects packets of gauze, a small bottle of antiseptic alcohol and a bandage, holding the small bundle in her arms before walking back to the living room. She finds him staring at the embarrassing photos of herself that her father had hung on the walls, she couldn't bring herself to take them down. There was so little of her father left.

"Don't let the hair fool you, I was still a heartbreaker back then. I had boys chasing after me." She lies with a smile and when he turns to look at her with those huge eyes she pauses mid step, his eyes survey her face in a distracting sweep before he smirks and walks away.

Maybe summer has come early, that would explain the sudden overwhelming heat that curls around her.

Shaking herself from her daze she calls out to him, "Hey! Come here before you bleed to death. I don't want the mafia coming after me."

The look on his face is his patent I'm going to refuse because I'm a pouty baby look and she intercepts it as she has become custom to doing, grabbing his hand and yanking him over to the kitchen table. For someone so intelligent he still hasn't learned that his refusals are futile around her.

"I'm fine. It's a shallow wound, it'll stop on its own." He argues and she wonders how many other times he has simply left a wound to fester and painfully heal on its own, was that his penance?

She shakes her head, "Why suffer when I can help you? Stop being so stubborn you're reminding me of a certain patient who you love scolding." He grows chillingly still at her words, and again a thought tingles in her mind that there's something she's missing but she presses it aside and pushes him down into the seat.

He doesn't put up a fight, going a little too easily.

"Open your shirt."

He stares at a point on the wall across the room, not responding to her command at all at first and then he looks up at her with dark eyes. She swallows deeply, raising a single brow.

When he continues to look at her without obeying her instructions she grows impatient, repeating herself, "Come on open your shirt I need to clean the wound."

Still he doesn't react and she carelessly tosses the supplies on the table, reaching out with steady fingers to unbutton his starched white shirt. He discarded the jacket earlier, so there are less layers obstructing her way. His face is unreadable as she grabs the smooth button and slips it through the hole, she gets two buttons undone before reaching the center of his chest and as if jolting back to life he suddenly grabs her hand halting her movement.

She stares at him in question, hands still on the button before he sighs at her, "I can do it myself." There's a tightness in his jaw that she can't explain and she has to stomp out the desire to run a finger across that sharp jawline.

"Okay. You do it."

Looking away she tries to give him some space but the sounds of him undressing capture her full attention and she feels her eyes shifting back captivated by the fluid motion of those dangerous hands. Knowing what they are capable of does nothing to douse the fire under her skin. Frustratedly he has a thin white shirt under the dress shirt and she can only faintly see his toned body through the material. She stares harder willing herself to develop x-ray vision, unfortunately those powers do no manifest.

"Surely I don't need to get shirtless right?" He inquires with a smug air and she glares at him, they've been playing this game for a while now. Longer than two adults should be as far as she's concerned.

In lieu of responding she picks up a fluffy cotton ball and saturates it in alcohol before dabbing at the blood on the nape of his neck, as she swipes higher he hisses at the sting and she remembers what her father would do for her when she was young and had scraped her knee. Leaning over his shoulder she puckers her lips and blows, cooling the burn.

She continues this until the cotton is soaked from the dried blood and alcohol and blowing one final time she draws back, this time she feels smugness simmering in her belly. His eyes are blown and pointedly looking away from her, she notices his tight knuckle grip on the seat of the chair as well.

"I'm all done." She announces moving away walking to the small garbage in the corner of the room. His breaths are loud in the quiet of the room, her heart echoes in tandem. Taking a deep breath she speaks without turning around, "You remember where the clothes are right? Get changed so we can drink."

She moves to the fridge to take out the platters of food they had purchased at the market earlier and the bottles of makgeolli, it was that kind of night.

He looks soft and harmless when he comes back out in a large knit sweater, without gel his hair flops across his smooth forehead and she's still not used to this sight, there's a level of domesticity that she's never had with another person. A man.

"I'll go change too." She whispers sidestepping around him, her hands brushing against his.

It's easy to get lost in their escape, slamming back gulp after gulp of the strong cloudy rice wine until her thoughts start to blur and she doesn't know what she's saying out loud and what's only privy to her brain.

When she hears herself monologuing her thoughts as she had ran into his arms in the underpass all she can do is scream internally, she can blame the alcohol but only for lowering her inhibitions really, it hadn't manifested the thoughts.

He looks stricken and oddly amused by her musings until she tells him to get up. That smile is wiped clean off his handsome face.

"I need to test it. Come on stand up." His reluctance is noted but unable to deny her once more he stands, a long suffering look on his face.

She tells him her plan, it sounds crazy even to her but for some reason he doesn't refuse or question her at all. Agreeing to all her stipulations and she's not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, especially not an Italian stallion.

Ten seconds.

That should be enough to hold her over tonight after he leaves her alone. If she can't lay beside him she needs a tiny piece of him.

Taking a running start she dashes across the small distance, slamming into his hard chest enjoying the juxtaposition of his solid body through the soft sweater. He smells amazing, even without his clothes that expensive cologne still lingers on his skin and she nuzzles into his shoulder. Curling her arm around his body she drags him tighter against her chest, her nipples pebbling with the close contact.

It's been longer than ten seconds and she knows she should stop.

But she really really doesn't want to.

Twisting onto his other side she prepares to let go, already regretting it but her sober thoughts are now pushing to the surface and she realizes what this looks like. Peering up at his face she expects to see that unreadable face again, he's annoyingly good at hiding his true emotions it makes her second this all the time.

Her insides churn when she sees the very face she expected. So she detaches and takes a step back prepared to dismiss this whole ordeal, the words denying her feelings for him already on her tongue when the biting sound of wood scraping against the floor fills the room. Jumping a little at the noise she glances over to the direction of the sound and sees his hands holding the chair in a punishing grip. He immediately releases the object at her glance but it's too late, she's already connected the pieces.

"You're holding back." She confidently states stepping back into the space she'd only just abandoned.

She doesn't ask why, that much is all too obvious.

I didn't want you to get hurt.

Being with him will put her in danger she's seen enough mafia movies to know that friends and love ones are always the first to be taken as leverage. So he'd decided all on his own that this, couldn't be and she was better off without him.

"Stupid idiot." She tries her best to repeat those explosive words with the same emphasis he's used when he had spat her in face not too long ago, watching with satisfaction as surprise shrouds his face as the Italian glides off her tongue. She'd been practicing for a while now, mostly curses words.

Fanculo, was still a favorite. What a fun way to say fuck.

She doesn't give him a chance to question her sudden switch in languages, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pulling him closer, even more so than the hug they'd just shared.

"We're supposed to share everything, even passion." She boldly declares watching with fascination as he still tries to hold on to his semblance of control, the chair squeaks loudly under his hold and she lunges forward putting them both out of their misery.

It feels like coming home.

If your home was a sauna built on an active volcano.

Unlike their hug earlier this time there's no hesitation as soon as her lips touch his liquor moist ones he's already opening up and devouring her tongue. His immediate response makes her hungry for more, peeling his lips open with her teeth she sucks the remnants of the wine from his mouth, eagerly lapping and searching for more. He grunts at the rough treatment but doesn't back off, rather he sinks those capable hands into the depths of her hair caressing her scalp as he tugs at her head, tilting her to the right and moving instantly to the left slotting them even closer together.

The sound of their kissing is messy and loud, echoing in the still of the night.

She breaks apart with sloppy pop, gasping for air and his flushed red face greets her looking every bit as wrecked as she feels.

"Already regretting it?" He teases with an edge that's a bit too real and she yanks him forward, pressing him down into the chair and crawling onto his lap, legs straddling his thighs and their cores meeting through torturous layers. She's burning hot and moist where he's aching hard and rigid.

"Regretting waiting this long." She replies in a clear challenge waiting to see what he'll do.

"We shouldn't do this, partners is enough. You're already in enough danger as is, if they find out that we're..."

He trails off unable to finish the sentence but his clenched jaw speaks volumes. She chuckles coyly from her spot in his lap.

"What? What are we doing? What do you wish we were doing Mr. Vincenzo Cassano? Fucking? " She grinds down into his groin simultaneously and instantly he grips her hips, halting her movement with a bruising hold.

"You're playing with fire." He warns her, she can hear the metallic click of his ever present lighter at his words.

She should be scared of him, he was a world apart from what she was used to even when she'd been working with Babel, manipulation and bribery those things she could do without batting an eye but murder and torture? She'd had never done anything like this before, never. Not until this Italian Korean enigma had walked into her life and shaken it up like a margarita in a mixer. Was she making the right decision? She had no idea, right and wrong had become blurred a long time ago for her. All she knew was that the idea of not kissing him for another second made her want to pull her own hair out.

"I trust you not to burn me up. Too badly."

His eyes flash dangerously at her words and this time he's the one to initiate this kiss, cupping her head gently and dragging her into a sweeter embrace, a simmering heat now licking at her skin. She moans softly as he slips a wet tongue into her mouth, stroking at her back before pushing his hands up the back of her shirt, his hands are sweltering hot on her naked skin and she arches at the rough touch. They kiss languidly breaking apart only to come back together, each kiss wetter and more mind numbing than the last. With soft suckles to her bottom lip he pulls away, she stares at his soft smile as she chases after his retreating lips. Not ready to stop yet. She won't be ready for a long time.

He glowers at her and she waits impatiently for his next move, with strong arms he lowers her onto the table dishes clanging as he shoves them to the side laying her down like she's his last meal. She expels a loud breath allowing herself to be placed on the table, gasping as he stands looming over her.

"I'm the one in the mafia so why am I terrified of you?" He whispers too honestly, looking devastated as he stares at her helplessly all too ready to bolt.

"You don't want to get hurt."

He stares at her with liquid eyes emotions all but spilled across his face, with a whimper he closes the distance between them once more with her guiding hand on his back, this time they meet in the middle surrendering to the flames.

#vincenzo #vincenzo cassano #hong cha young #the tension is killing me #I wrote something without angst for them #it's a miracle

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novantinuum · 5 years

Text

On the corrupted!Steven theory...

So, originally when I mused on this yesterday I was just playing around with random possibilities.

After combing the series for info about corruption, though, I’m mildly spooked at the increased potential for this to... perhaps be a thing? I’m not saying that this is what I for sure believe will happen- to be honest, I’m not even sure Crewniverse would go this direction at all- but just for funsies, let’s see what kind of “evidence” or “foreshadowing” exists that might support this potential story path in the context of canon.

(EDIT: 10/7/19

I honestly no longer think this creature is a worm at all whatsoever, it’s either more akin to a horned caterpillar or potentially has limbs. Either way we can see so little right now that it’s hard to tell. I’m not editing the rest of this post because I want it to exist in its original form- but do keep this in mind reading the rest! XP)

1) The design of this worm creature.

Let’s start simple. Let’s start tangible.

For future reference and simplicity, I will be henceforth be referring to this creature as... “Wormy Boi.”

So, let’s see what we’ve got here. I’m definitely not the first person to point out this fella’s pink nature, and the jarringly human-like nose they’ve got. (Compared to other corruptions, which have had distinctly non-humanoid features.) In the photo above, we also have Wormy Boi sporting glowing pink eyes, which then send out a flare of pink light/energy. So, seemingly a powerful entity.

If you watch the short segment before they sit upright, you’ll see that Wormy Boi is super, super big. They’re in the background, but BOY do they loom. The shadows cast upon them especially push that sense of size. They’ve also got a whole bunch of spikes on their back and framing their face.

So, then. What evidence could be made for this being a corrupted!Steven, as opposed to some other run-of-the-mill monster?

Steven Universe Future is a limited series, described as ‘tying up loose ends.” To me, as a viewer, it would make far more sense for the antagonists/conflicts to deal with big concepts that have already been established since there’s such a limited amount of time we have left with this world. Introducing a completely alien species in the last act of the show would feel offbeat from both a writing and a viewing perspective. Corruption- on the other hand- is something we don’t have full answers to yet.

We don’t see any gem, yes- but Steven’s gem is- of course- on his belly. If this theory were to be true, that would translate to the gem being on Wormy Boi’s underside, far out of our sight in this shot, due to how massive they are. As an addition to this, not showing the gem gives an air of mystery to this creature’s true nature- which makes it seem like there’s something surprising to discover here.

A corrupted diamond would surely be MASSIVE. Also, very powerful. The beam of pink light hints at Wormy Boi being quite a powerhouse.

The spikes on Wormy Boi’s back and around their face highly resemble rose thorns. We all know how much the Crewniverse loves their rose symbolism, and design wise, this aspect would make a lot of visual sense for a corrupted Steven. Running off of that:

The face/nose shape and the five horns on this creature’s head give off a very Steven-like silhouette.

The nose, of course. The face has a very Steven-like shape to it, overall- although noticeably more angular and sharp. The mouth is reminiscent of the Watermelon Stevens’ mouths. And as for the horns, there’s five of them positioned equidistant around their face, just as Steven’s hair is always formed from five lil’ bumps at the same positions.

Okay, moving on.

(Read more under the cut!)

2) We do not yet understand the true nature of corruption.

“I guess it’ll take more than a kiss to heal damage from the Diamonds…” -Pearl, Monster Reunion

Corruption is still- bafflingly- a huge mystery. The Gems we’ve watched the CGs bubble since season one have been healed, yes, but there are still many gaps in our understanding of it. With Steven Universe Future’s promise to address some lingering story threads, it would make sense if corruption was on the plate for further discussion. So, what DO we know?

We know it’s something the Diamonds can do. Interestingly, it doesn’t seem to require all four diamonds. Three of them together were able to cause all the damage to Earth. There’s also no statement made that more than one Diamond is required to cause effects like that.

In Legs From Here to Homeworld, Blue and Yellow Diamond weren’t actually aware the corruption was something they were capable of producing. They seemed to assume they obliterated the Gems on Earth. Corruption is then, even a mystery to them. That’s... odd, isn’t it?

Pearl states that it’s “something nearly impossible to describe.” Garnet goes further to say... “It’s sorta like... if MC Bear-Bear didn’t tear the fabric of his arm, but the fabric of his mind.”

"A sound… A song?” There’s a lot of association between corruption and music.

It causes Gems to lose touch with their usual forms, instead warping into a more outwardly "monstrous” version of themselves that appear to be “just a bundle of fight-or-flight reflexes and survival instincts.” As seen by Centipeetle in Monster Buddy and Monster Reunion, it appears as if corrupted Gems try to regenerate with their original forms if unbubbled, but are simply not in a state where they can maintain that.

As seen with Jasper in Earthlings, extreme emotional distress very much seems to speed up corruption’s effects. This is less of a stated fact and more of my read on that episode, but I believe it to be an important tidbit, especially since Garnet states that corruption’s damage is mental rather than physical, at least at its core. This can also be seen in Monster Reunion with how Centipeetle’s partial healing backfires when she remembers the trauma of being corrupted and reacts strongly.

Now, when it comes to healing corruption, Steven tries to heal Centipeetle himself, and does make some nice progress... helping her regain a hold on herself as he treats her with love and compassion and understanding... but it’s ultimately not a healing that can occur in isolation, helping her on his own. She needs more support before she can heal from this corruption to a state where she can truly be herself again.

And that eventually comes in the form of the other Diamonds. So, all four diamonds can help relieve the corruption if they help these Gems all together.

3) How could this theory potentially fit into the story anyways, you nutter?

Well, here’s the part of this post where I make some broad conjectures. I honestly am shooting fish into a barrel here because again- we know barely anything about how corruption actually happened initially, and my thoughts are very jumbled. Please forgive me.

"I don’t really know how the corruption works. It’s like they’re sick. They don’t remember who they used to be.” -Steven, Gem Hunt

So, corruption seems to be a mental ailment of Gemkind, turned manifest. It also seems to have a deep connection to a Gem’s emotions, with Centipeetle growing smaller and slightly calmer upon feeling more secure in Steven’s presence, and corruption speeding up as Jasper grew more and more emotionally overwrought and self-deriding about herself.

When it comes to the Diamonds and how they perhaps caused it originally- without fully realizing- we know that at least Blue and White have abilities focused on causing others to act in certain ways. Blue has sway over one’s emotions, and White has a knack for forcing her thoughts and self upon others. (I’m not sure how Yellow’s ability would play in here.) Mayhaps, mixed with their grief and guilt and anger, their power simply pressed all of that hurt emotion onto all the Gems on Earth in one whole fail swoop...? Tearing their minds in the process of it all?

The question I still have, though- is whether a single diamond could produce effects like this. And whether a diamond could turn that ability on themself.

Could Steven accidentally corrupt himself? Why might that happen?

Well, let’s look at our boy here.

He’s got a wide circle of support at this time in canon, but notably, he’s notorious for bottling up his emotion and not letting others in to help him- instead dropping everything to help them with their problems. Just to name a few examples (a few):

The Test. He feels betrayed and hurt at the Gems for a moment about the way they’re babying him with the rigged test, but instead of admitting the hurt he feels about the scenario, bottles that up to help them feel more like good guardians.

Joy Ride. He opens up to the Cool Kids about deep, incredibly troubling stuff that’s long been on his mind, but he’s never once talked about it with his family.

Mindful Education. The perils of bottling one’s emotions is literally the whole plot of the episode. The kid has a full out sobbing breakdown while he’s plunging to his death. Connie gets through to him a little here, but later episodes show that the resolution we see here is merely the tip of the iceberg when it comes to Steven’s internal issues.

Storm in the Room. Externally, Steven tries so hard to put on a guise of content and positivity, but once alone in Rose’s room feels safe enough to let the full brunt of his emotional trauma come out in an almost explosive manner. Geeze, get this kid some hugs.

Gemcation. Steven actually fails bitterly on putting on his customary smile in this episode, simply because the weight of his problems have become such an impossible burden to him. When the other Gems are trying to help him open up, he isn’t immediately responsive to their efforts.

What’s Your Problem? Amethyst spends the whole episode trying to cheer Steven up and find out how he’s doing, and instead Steven downplays his own feelings on the matter and ends up helping her sort out her own emotional issues.

So to sum: Many an Emotional Issue, a chronic tendency to avoid outwardly addressing said issues in favor of helping everyone else instead... and to avoid accepting other people’s help.

Even if he’s surrounded by all these people who love him, the fact of the matter is that Steven still feels as if he has to face his own inner demons alone.

Now, let’s look at the lil’ teasing synopsis that was given for Steven Universe Future:

“After saving the universe, Steven is still at it, tying up every loose end. But as he runs out of other people’s problems to solve, he’ll finally have to face his own.”

Blatantly sounds like we’re gonna finally get some addressing of Steven’s emotional state, now doesn’t it?

4) A concept on what could, theoretically happen

“Maybe… it IS a guy in a monster costume. I don’t mean literally, silly! What I mean is... there might be a conscious Gem still inside there, somewhere. What if the monster is turning back and forth into its original form? If it is, it might not be as corrupted as we think! There might still be a chance to save it!” -Steven, Gem Hunt

Suppose Steven- by some as-of-yet unknown means- ends up accidentally corrupting himself. His sorry emotional state only further amplifies the effects of this corruption, and makes it really hard to retain control. Wormy Boi as a form could be like... all his inner demons made manifest, a metaphoric mirror into his current mental state. But- as he is half-human- he’s not entirely unaware of what’s happening. Perhaps... as the quote above could be sneaky foreshadowing for... how he’s turning back and forth between this corrupted form and his normal form.

He likely wouldn’t want everyone to see him like this, doesn’t want everyone to visibly know the sheer depth of how much he’s hurting. But just like the corrupted Gems were only able to be helped in community, with the support of the CGs and the Diamonds in preparing the fountain, Steven can’t fix this on his own.

He can no longer face the dark alone.

At some point, everyone has to take a brave step. Reach out. Accept help.

Steven’s helped so many people, and surely he deserves that same love and care in return, too.

And perhaps, when he’s eventually healed from this- and has gotten the opportunity to be open with his family and friends about the hurt he’s facing- he’ll be left with “corruption scars” as well. I think it’s an important thing to address, that no one goes through experiences like these without lingering effects. Stuff stays with you. Healing is not always linear. But life is a continuous journey, and with the support of people who love you surrounding, you too can make a change... can continue to live to the fullest at every moment possible.

I think the above would be a lovely moral for Steven Universe to tackle in its last run of episodes, no matter how they approach it- daft corruption theory or not.

Now, in the end- a reiteration. This is just a wild theory. I’m not trying to be any authoritative voice saying that this is for sure what will happen, because in reality I have no idea what Crewniverse is cooking. However, I do think it’s fun speculation, and I am kinda spooked at how well things fit.

Whatever happens, I’m sure it will make me weep like a baby, though. Hoh boy. Grant me sanity in these coming months as we wait for answers.

#su #steven universe #su future #steven universe future #su theory #corrupted steven theory #my post stuff #long post #the mighty 500 #1K #2K #3K #4K #5K

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toplinetommy · 4 years

Note

Could you do 83 and 97 from the fluff/angst list with Tyson Jost?

Long story short, it wasn’t supposed to be like this. Tyson was just a guy you had gone home with a few months ago, and now it seemed like you were meeting him at his apartment the second he got home from road trips, he was leaving guys’ night early to see you (sometimes even skipping it), you were watching his games even though you swore you weren’t that into sports, and you were each other's number one best friend on Snapchat.

But now his phone in your name had changed from just ‘Tyson Jost’ to ‘tys😋’ and he had added a photo of the two of you to your contact, smiling whenever your name flashed across his screen.

And now here you were, thumbs hovering over your open text conversation with Tyson, the last text being one you sent, telling him good luck before taking the ice for Game 4 of the conference finals. The Avs were trailing the series 0-3, making this a must-win game for the group. Your head was empty of any possible thing you could text him as you watched the handshake line after the Golden Knights had celebrated their series sweep, sending them to the Stanley Cup Final.

You had opted to not send him anything for the first hour, knowing that he would probably want time to be with his team and talk to his family or even anyone else that wasn’t you. After all, you were just two people sleeping together that had happened to now be good friends. Part of you wanted to see if he would message you first, wanting him to let you know how he was feeling without having to read between the lines.

The two of you had been dancing around your feelings for the other for weeks now. It was easy to see that Tyson had been putting in extra effort to see you, spending an equal amount of time between your place and his that was on the other side of town. He had slowly become someone that you weren’t just spending time with between the sheets and giving rushed goodbyes in the early hours of the morning. You started to hang out with some of the guys that lived in his building, he spent time with your roommates when they were around, and he had been more than happy to get you tickets to more than a few of his games.

And the sex. The sex had transitioned from just needy sex where you both were just trying to get an orgasm or two, to memorizing each dip and curve of the other person. It was plenty dirty, and you got to explore with him, but a light had switched one night after the two of you had gotten wine drunk off of the cheap Trader Joe’s brand in his living room. You had taken your time exploring the other’s body, placing soft kisses on the scrapes and bruises littering Tyson’s tan skin, while he sucked soft bruises onto the tops of your breasts, your hips, and your thighs. It was slow and filled with overwhelming emotion on both ends. His thrusts had hit you deeper at a more languid pace than he’s exhibited with you. From then on out, the sex was wild and dirty, but still sweet and heartfelt.

Nothing was said that next morning when you procrastinated getting out of his bed, causing Tyson to go a little more than the speed limit on the way to morning skate. Lingering kisses were left when you said your goodbyes at the door or at the other’s car, kisses on each other’s shoulders and foreheads when you passed by the other.

It was everything you wanted in someone, except he wasn’t yours. And that was starting to become evident as you fell asleep that night with no texts from him after his game, nor a text the following day as you started preparing yourself dinner. Throughout the following day, you continued to think of what to say to him but as the hours passed, you thought your opportunity to talk to him did, too.

The constant opening of your text thread with him was driving you crazy, so you had purposefully left it in your work bag the second you set it down by your front door when you got home. With the neverending slow day you had, your first task of the evening was to open your fridge and find a bottle of wine to pop open.

Hours later into the evening where the city around you is starting to fall asleep, you’re still wide awake on your couch watching the newest episodes of New Amsterdam. A loud knock comes through the door and you frown thinking of how late had gotten. Still, you pause your show and whip open your front door, thinking it’s just the guy your roommate’s sleeping with. But instead of it being the six foot four, blonde, banker, it’s a barely six foot, curly headed brunette that plays hockey.

“I shouldn’t be here,” Tyson starts slowly, noting the confused look on your face as the door swings open to reveal you in your college hoodie and a pair of running shorts. “But, I leave to go back home this weekend until next season and I really needed to see you.”

“So, you waited until the last minute before leaving for the summer?” you roll your eyes. “That makes sense.”

“Can I come in? There’s a lot I’d like to talk to you about.”

And you want to say no, barring the fact that it’s nearing 1:30 in the morning and you have work tomorrow. But the dark circles under Tyson’s eyes and his unruly hair tucked underneath the hood of his sweatshirt has you opening the door further and gesturing for him to take a few steps into your place. Tyson glances around the all-too-familiar living room, noting that the tv is paused on some show he doesn’t recognize, your favorite throw blanket is thrown on the couch instead of folded, all indicators that you still haven’t gone to bed.

“Another sleepless night, huh?” Tyson asks, but it’s more like he’s asking for confirmation that he’s right because he knows you too well. He knew you had trouble sleeping on a frequent basis because at one point he had started falling asleep on the couch next to you instead of in bed since it meant going to bed with you.

“Uh, yeah,” you respond, a knit-in your eyebrows. “I had a long day. What’d you want to talk about?”

Tyson feels weird, he knows exactly what he wants to say to you, but his anxiety is starting to bubble with the unfamiliar space between the two of you as he stands by the front door and you’re leaning against the back of your couch more than a few feet away. He takes a weary step forward, running his hand through his hair and pushing the hood down in the process.

“Sorry for not texting you back, I just wanted to do this in person because that’s what you deserve and I needed time to figure everything out with what’s going on between us. The playoffs were really tough and there was so much pressure to win, more than normal, and it was really defeating to not win a single game in the conference finals. I’ve never been so close, and it still sucks knowing there are two teams playing hockey right now and mine isn’t one of them.”

The sadness and strain in his voice aren’t hard to miss, coupled with his overall disheveled appearance. What he said to you was the exact reason why you didn’t reach out to him first. Knowing Tyson is here out of the goodness of his heart and isn’t here what you don’t think is bad news, you close the distance between the two of you, pulling him into a hug. He sighs heavily as his chin comes to rest atop your head, breathing in the coconut shampoo you regularly use. His hand comes to brush the ends of your hair down, something he had down all throughout your, well whatever this thing was called between the two of you.

You seemingly forget that he mentioned talking to you about things that probably just weren’t the disappointing end to his season. You drag him to the couch with you, hitting play on the tv remote and turning the volume down so you can still focus on the brunette next to you. His thighs are touching yours and he throws his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his chest. Your fingers toy with the drawstring of his hood out of anxiousness as you wait for either him to speak or for when you find the right words to say to him.

“If it’s any consolation, I think you all played really well, and it’s fuel for the next season,” you assure him, your voice soft and barely above a whisper. Your gaze is focused on the moving doctors on the screen in front of you while he watches the blue light cast different shadows across your face.

“Thank you,” Tyson breathes out. “But I didn’t come here just to be negative and talk about things that already happened that I don’t have control over anymore.”

Your stomach tightens at that, your first thought going to the one that tells you he just came over to get his dick wet then leave for the summer. You start to shift your body to not rest any of your weight on him. But he puts a hand on the back of your head, keeping you against his chest. You can feel his breathing passing through your hair and the rise and fall of his chest underneath you.

“I wanted to talk you about what’s going on between us, and that, uh, you’re the only girl I’m seeing, well, been seeing honestly, like, since-”

“You’re kind of rambling,” you smile, looking up at him. “But it’s okay because you’re the only guy I’ve been seeing, too.”

He smiles back down at you, both of you clearly being on the same page. “I know this is terrible timing since I’m going home next week, but maybe we can plan something where one of us visits the other?”

“I’d love that,” you smile, leaning in to kiss him softly.

#not my favorite thing but here it is!#tyson jost imagine #blurbies #alex writes

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steve0discusses · 3 years

Text

S5 Ep6: Joey Wheeler is on Fire, Yet Again

Came down with a little sickness-not the biggie, just a little sly guy. But I took some meds, I’m a little floaty, I’ve only been listening to baroque music all morning for some reason? And I hate baroque music usually? But I’ll leave it to bro to tell me if this is fluid enough.

Just so you know, these caps were kind of a hot mess for a while and some of them read like that Garfield in of hot eat the food comic until...today. So pls don’t judge me, Judge my damn DMV where no one was following Covid regulations because I’m pretty sure that’s where I got this damn cold.

We start off with Roland getting more attention than he ever has in his entire life. Like honestly, I don’t know what Roland’s job really is...but he’s got a very diverse set of very useless skills. One of which, is knowing how to announce sports games that aren’t really a sport, while those games he’s announcing slowly fall into chaos.

Anyway, Roland’s taking so long cherishing his sweet time before everything goes to hell, that he’s boring Joey, who’s kinda turned into a ball of stress in the waiting room.

A lot of this episode is us watching them watching Joey having a break down moment by moment, TBH.

(read more under the cut)

Yugi telling Joey to study his cards and straight up--what?

Like at this point they know what’s on the cards, right? Like there comes a point where even Yugioh cards have a finite amount of words and I’m just going to assume that like...Joey probably knows them all in his own deck, right?

(bro note: they have no limit on what they will put on a card)

Then again, maybe Yugi doesn’t know what “study” means?

Also, appreciate how some artist crosshatched the hell on Joey’s nose there and I zoomed out and ruined it.

Now for some reason every duelist is hanging out in the duel lodge, including our current arch-villain guy who’s brought a book. I want to know what book this guy even reads so no one could suspect he’s actually a hacker who uses computers. He’s reading romance, right? And I don’t think he’d even be into Twilight, I think he’s straight up into hard core Mom romance like a lame ass Nicholas Sparks over there reading “Dear John” for the millionth time because he is completely un-phased by anything else happening in this room.

Joey, our hero, just out there being an asshole for no reason.

After Tea is pushed into a locker or something screaming about her need for female friends (which she screamed in earshot of Rebecca again, who I figured was on friends terms with her after last episode...but I guess not) Leon hops up to remind us that we should be caring about the fact that his character exists.

And like, I love Leon’s hair color--that’s a good choice, and legit that is the color I tried to dye my hair at the beginning of the epidemic (it didn’t work PS, my hair cannot take dye for the life of it) but also like...he just kinda feels like a weak Rebecca as far as characters go. He’s young, he’s good at cards...I think he goes to a private school? That’s all I can think of about Leon.

He mostly just reminds us that the big prize of this tourney is to duel Yugi, who anyone could have dueled at any point even without the tournament.

On the way out of the...duel room? lounge? Area? Joey decides to like...make peace with Zigfried, and I gotta tell you, I kinda have to side with Zigfried, because Joey spent the last ten minutes being a freak in the dressing room/lounge/bathroom and at one point looked like he was going to hold the entire locker room in a stranglehold.

I would also want some space from Joey Wheeler, is what I’m saying.

After insulting Joey’s style (which honestly, Joey...has a style? He pops his collar, that’s his entire style.) Zigfried assures us that Joey’s gonna lose and like...

...probably, right? Just looking at the plausible direction this season will go.

Anyway, Joey is such a mess (which is the theme of the episode, that Joey needs to learn to chill in order to win at card games) that Rebecca is like “I understand if all of you leave me to go help our poor baby Joey.” And no one felt bad for her.

Mokuba comes over to tell everyone all of the Kaiba family secrets because Mokuba has no filter.

Seto has devoted himself to staring at a computer screen for the rest of this episode. I guess he’ll put their names into Google, realize that social media hasn’t been invented yet, and then just lie his head down on the desk and take a power nap until the tournament is over. Much like I did after taking Dayquil this afternoon.

I like how Seto dressed for success and then locked himself in the server room for most of this arc so far. Maybe he’s just...really tired, I dunno. I don’t really blame the guy, he’s had a hard time.

And then Yugi was like “DAMN IT MOKUBA, JUST ONCE CAN YOU NOT INVITE THE ILLUMINATI???”

And we had a weird scene where Yugi just started talking to the ghost and it was while he was talking to everyone else, and the show didn’t treat it like that’s a weird thing to do...but it was a weird thing to do.

This show does that sometimes, where I guess they imply that Yugi’s Pharaoh conversations are split second conversations but...they’re not, right?

Also this chick ain’t gone yet, and Mokuba is just failing at his entire job for not zeroing in on vibes coming off this chick like stinky cheeseman.

So listen.

Did the Kaibas make like 3 types of Blue Eyes Caboose to one up Noah? Because Noah made one choo choo dragon, and then Mokuba and Seto were like “how dare” and then made sure that everyone ride every single version of the blue eyes caboose just to see how proud of them they were.

How many months of troubleshooting was the train? Like how long in development did Seto and Mokuba spend on these? A lot right? Like most of the time?

I did not check the subs to see if Roland said Jumping or Champion but I like to believe that Roland thought it was a cool new name he gave him.

Then these guys all showed up.

Hey so...can we talk seating arrangements?

Tea decided not to sit next to Yugi after complaining about not spending time with him for like how many episodes? Or was it too awkward to sit on top of what was probably Pharaoh?

Or did Mokuba go like “please, Tea, I cannot sit next to the others because I’m pretty sure one is a mole that is about to go cray” and was Tea like “Good, I need female friends, these ones are driving me crazy!” and then was Mokuba like peering desperately over the edge of his self made dragon train prison realizing he has to listen to Tea complain about boys for the rest of his ride across molten lava?

Headcanons abound about this weird seating arrangement that the animators drew for the reasons they did...but reasons I cannot fully understand. That and the Dayquil is making me overfixate on random stuff.

And also, Tea is kind of the Kaiba’s security’s understudy. Just there to always protect Mokuba with her ass because she’s the strongest woman alive.

PS I missed the tumblr wars because at the time I was trying to like...run a proper business on blogger. When Blogger died and I jumped over here it was like a weird ruin where everyone was like “tumblr is the most toxic place alive” and...I’ve had a really nice time here, actually. Completely missed that civil war period and I have no regrets.

Now I was there for the Petz wars (warz, I guess) where people were very militant about Petz abuse (abuze?) where apparently people were using the spray bottle on their catz too much and people were very, very upset about it to the point that they were like campaigning about it on their angelfire websites with the most bizarre grassroots campaigns that I still recall, to this day because they were like...well they looked like this:

PLAPA. Not only am I 100% positive that only this one guy ever called this movement PLAPA, but I’m 100% positive that not only are Catz not real people, but also this wasn’t actually happening and we never had any proof that it was. Either way, if people knew or suspected that you hadn’t deleted the spray bottle from your game (which at the time I had no idea how to do because I was a wee child) they would basically assume you were on a one way road to being a mass murderer in real life.

In real life we were 7 years old so like...thanks?

But that’s the closest I got to toxicity and at the time I was too young to make an email account and actually converse with these people. I was just there to download their Petz hexes, and I already made a post about how wonderful and incredible Petz Hexing was.

And y’all, I heard, just now after a little deep dive into the Petz Abuse debacle (which yes, is on the wiki), that apparently, like gardening, Petz Hexing came back in a big way during the epidemic--and I have found an active Petz forum in this the year 2021. The only problem is that I no longer remember how to use old timey forums...and I think I’m locked out of seeing most of these threads (and like this forum is so old I think I have to send them a letter in the physical mail to apply). But, I’m pretty sure they’re hosting a picture contest for who’s dogz poses the best. And I’m pretty sure someone created a hexxed Pickle Rick. Or it’s a photoshop that was made to look like a hexxed Pickle Rick.

Dammit why did it have to be Pickle Rick? That’s not worth re-installing Petz and getting it to run on Windows 10...

Guys is this the Dayquil? Is this really happening? I feel like I’m losing my mind for so many reasons...

Anyway, speaking about useless hexing it’s about time that our villain did something that was actually dangerous, so Zigfried decided to install a new virus that does more than turn off the lights. (it still turns off lights)

the Spreadsheet Virus!

Confounded by the spreadsheet software, it...um...it does this:

Straight up how does Excel make a volcano erupt? Is that why I have to pay for Microsoft office now?

All this because Joey made fun of Zigfried’s naturally pink hair? Which is the most normal hair on this series outside of like...Tristan?

Hey guys...Joey’s fine, right? Like how many times has Joey been on fire? And once in an iron cage next to like...a Fire Golem?

Joey’s fine.

MAN I miss Fire Golem. He had a good mug.

And then we just kinda watch chaos go across the park, chaos that includes: Too many ghosts in the haunted mansion (which honestly--you’ll get your money’s worth, sounds great!), the Ferris wheel goes kinda fast and thus might accidentally be fun, the lights turn off at some concert stage that only had 2 people on it (so it might just be motion detector lights and not even a virus), and um...literal fire and magma are going to set Joey Wheeler on fire.

Just...one of these events does not seem like the others. In fact most of these things sound like good improvements to the park and they should just hire Zigfried at this point.

Roland puts down his microphone and jogs across the stage, about a mile through the audience bleachers, and into the staff lounge, to go and bother Seto Kaiba, who is in a room that has a hi-def classical painting copy-pasted on the wall and I can’t look away from it.

I almost did a Google search on this painting but then thought better about it. There’s like...a billion classical paintings that look exactly like this, and they wouldn’t use like a Monet, they would have to do something that’s harder to catch to avoid copyright issues (because yes, even old ass paintings have copyright issues, but no one tell NFT’s which are going to be so freakin screwed and was such a bad idea, that I can’t even start).

Anyway, I have no idea who it is and it is legitimately driving me up a wall, but I’m on too much meds to do the effort of putting it in a reverse google image search.

Plus, a reverse google image search would only pull up Seto Kaiba.

So Kaiba takes us on a little flashback to his weird ass past, a weird ass past that just...doesn’t follow any of the established timelines, but I assume was shortly after adoption but before Seto got into a phase where he wore his school outfit everywhere and tried to shove his MMO off onto his Dad as a business model.

Seto is like 8 for some reason. I don’t know why, they kinda drew him younger this season anyway, like maybe they got a lot of fan mail and realized “Hey I think we made the 16 yo boy too sexy?” And they just toned Seto the hell down. That, and it’s a different animation team, and maybe they looked at Seto’s character design and were like “we don’t get paid enough to draw this well.” So...since Seto actually looks like a teen again, I guess his 12 year old self has to look like he’s in Elementary school.

Also, I only recognized this, because at some point in S3 as I was roasting Noah Kaiba’s weird fashion:

I remember distinctly roasting that little bow tie. I don’t remember when I wrote it, I think there was a version of this outfit that was in color...but I don’t remember where.

Anyway, it’s not the same jacket...but man that’s kind of awkward, ya? Like the maid who dressed Mokuba deffo got fired?

He um.

Turned the lights off a little bit.

Guys this villain is like...

...why does he think lights are scary? Like look at little Seto here. The boy is already bored. Seto duels on the edges of cliffs...he doesn’t care about the freakin dark.

We had a guy who killed everyone on the planet last season, and this season we have a little fashion gremlin standing in the corner and flicking the light switch going “wooooo you never catch me!” and it’s like...

...I’m starting to think this guy isn’t a witch.

Like we’re at Episode 6, there’s still time for this guy to be a witch...but I really am starting to think this guy is just...straight up not a witch. It’s everything Seto wanted, a rival who isn’t a freakin magic person...and sets Joey only fake on fire instead literally on fire like last time...

and Seto is just completely unhinged by it.

Anyway, I’m off to go drink a bowl of soup and pass out. If you’re new here, this is a link to read these in chrono order.

https://steve0discusses.tumblr.com/tagged/yugioh/chrono

#yugioh #yu gi oh #ygo #S5 #Ep6 #Yugi Muto #Seto Kaiba #Joey Wheeler #Tea Gardner #Tristan Taylor #Mokuba Kaiba #zigfried von schroeder #rebecca hawkins #I talked about catz again #leon #but not the kings of leon guy #I mean he could be

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lozzypoz321 · 4 years

Text

Ransom’s young daughter gets sick and he has to take care of her, only to have to take her to a family party because he can’t get a babysitter. The rest of the family is confused when they see him acting so carefully.

Word Count: 3K!

Warnings: None, other than pure fluff and some sickness.

A/N from ssebstann: This our first collab fic! This came from an anon who asked me if I would ever do this and here we are! I’m so proud of how this turned out and I hope you all like it and more writers would like to collab! I had so much fun doing this!

A/N from lozzypoz321: I’m really happy with how this turned out and I owe it all to the queen up above, I loved this and I hope everyone does too!

Sickness Struggles

Ransom groaned as he woke up, it wasn’t his normal time, though. It was barely 6 am, and he knew it wasn’t your time to get up either, you had just fallen back asleep after climbing out of your bed and complaining to your dad that you didn’t feel well. It wasn’t that Ransom didn’t believe you, he just hadn’t fully woken up yet and wanted to go back to his peaceful, sleeping state. But, here he was about 2 hours later, hearing you crying from your room. Before he could get to your room, you ran past Ransom and straight into the bathroom that was beside your room.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” Ransom asked. His stomach flipped when he heard you heaving and coughing, he grimaced. Ransom went into the bathroom and pulled your hair away from your pale face. You coughed again and fell back, your dad caught you in his arms from banging your head on the marble slates. “You really are sick, aren’t you?” He looked down at you, your hands were shaking and you looked utterly miserable.

“I tried to tell you, but you didn’t believe me,” You weakly pouted as he picked you up and put you on your unsteady and trembling legs. “Bet you believe me now.” You sassed him.

“I kind of have to. Look at you, you’re whiter than a sheet, honey,” He said, looking at you pitifully. “Alright, let’s get you back to bed.” Ransom took your hand and you trailed behind him, your small feet padding on the wooden planks of the houses’ hallways. You stood back behind him as he opened the door of your room and waited expectantly.

“I don’t wanna sleep in my bed,” You said confidently. Ransom cocked his eyebrow at you and walked towards you. “It’s too cold.” Ransom finally caught on to what you wanted and he nodded in understanding.

“Oh, so what you’re saying is that you wanna sleep in my bed and get your sickness everywhere?” He asked you, jokingly, of course, he didn’t want you to feel bad. After all, it wasn’t your fault that you were sick. Ransom looked at you and noticed the sick puppy look you had on your face and he instantly felt guilty, he didn’t want to upset you. “Hey, I was only joking, honey! You can go and sleep in my bed, alright?” You smiled gratefully and lifted a weak hand to rub the excess sleep out of your eyes. Ransom picked you up and you wrapped your shaking arms around his neck, clinging to him like a koala.

“Are you leaving today?” You asked him, you didn’t want him to go. If he did, you would be left with a babysitter who only sat and watched the TV in the living room, you know, the huge one that had all of the movies on it.

“No, but I have to tonight, I have to go see grandma and grandpa at a party,” He said, laying you on his bed and pulling the soft comforter up to your chin. You looked up at him with tears in your eyes, Ransom frowned and wiped them away with the pad of his thumb. “It’s alright, honey. You’re gonna be okay.” He assured you.

“I don’t want you to go,” You whimpered. Ransom smiled at you sadly and kissed the top of your head.

“I’ll be back before you know it, I won’t be there long,” He said. You sniffled and nodded, rubbing your runny nose with the sleeve of your pyjamas. Ransom brought your sleeve away from your face. “No, no. Don’t use that, Y/N.” Your eyes filled up with wet tears again, thinking you were in trouble.

“I’m sorry,” You cried. Ransom pulled the box of tissues out from the drawer of his bedside table and put one in front of your nose.

“You gotta blow your nose, baby. Otherwise, it’s gonna get all sticky and make you uncomfy,” You looked at the tissue in front of you and blew into as hard as you could. After Ransom put the tissue in the trash can, he turned the TV on for you. “I know I shouldn’t be letting you watch TV at 6 in the morning, but I don’t exactly know what else I can do with you this early in the morning.” He mumbled. Sniffling, you put your small arms up at your dad, signalling that you wanted to cuddle.

“Please?” You stuck your bottom lip out and pulled the best puppy dog face you could muster. Ransom sighed, knowing he probably shouldn’t, but would anyway. He budged you over gently and got into the massive bed, settling you in beside him with his arm around your small frame protectively.

Without trying to disrupt you, he leaned over to the oak bedside table and retrieved the TV remote and began to flip through the channels. After a while, he settled on a F.r.i.e.n.d.s episode. He didn’t like the show but knew it was one of your favourites. He slid down the sideboard where his back had been rested and laid down on the fluffy white pillow that made him sigh in content. About halfway into the show his eyes began to get heavy and your breathing began to slow down, and soon enough both of you were in a deep slumber.

Ransom mumbled sleepily when the sound of a ringtone woke him up. He blindly threw his arms out without opening his eyes, trying to find the source of the incessant noise. When the ringing didn’t stop blaring in his ears, the man had no other choice but to open his eyes and ignore the resistance in his body that begged for him to lay back down and go to sleep.

“Shut the fuck up,” He groaned and fumbled with the phone to answer the call from the baby sitter, Morgan, he had booked for you. When he successfully swiped the answer button and the noise stopped his mind was put at peace.

“Hello?” He tried not to sound as if he had just woken up but failed miserably, from the other side of the call he heard the woman quietly chuckle before going back to being serious.

“I’m sorry for such short notice, Mr. Drysdale but I’m afraid I can’t take your daughter today, I didn’t realise I was double-booked for the day” Ransom inwardly cursed, thinking of ideas of what he could do with you. Not needing to listen to her apologies, he hung up the phone and chucked it on the bottom of his bed, which he now remembered upon seeing you, all the night's events that occurred previously.

As though you had read his mind, your body suddenly awoke from unconsciousness and you lurched forward involuntarily and vomit spewed out of your mouth and onto the freshly vacuumed carpet. At the sight, both of you grimaced, you using the back of your sleeve to wipe the excess from your mouth which made Ransom scrunch up his face in disgust.

“Oh God, honey,” he sighed, feeling sorry for you before going back to the current matter at hand “I am definitely not cleaning that up” You used all the strength you could possibly muster to push yourself up off of your fathers bed and set your feet onto the ground, carefully making sure not to land on the pool of sick. You looked back up to Ransom, tears once again filling your eyes as the thought of being away from him flooded your mind.

“Please don’t go, I don’t want you to go,” You whined. Ransom took a deep breath at the nagging reminder of figuring out what he now had to do with you. He knew he couldn’t call another babysitter, it was far too late for that, and he had no friends that could look after you for the short time he was going to be gone, and he couldn’t possibly leave you alone when you were sick, so the only option left was to take you with him to the family gathering. The sigh that left his mouth was one of someone who had given up on life. He took your hand to guide you past the vomit and took you to the bathroom next to his room so you could brush your teeth and get rid of the after taste, although stopping halfway to pick you up so you didn’t collapse onto the hard wooden floor and knock yourself out. Ransom was surprised at how hot your forehead felt and instantly retracted his hand making you shrink back into yourself, thinking he was scared of you. He sighed, and quickly retrieved your toothbrush from your bathroom so you could get rid of the sick stench that he was sure was the reason your breathing had got noticeably heavier. Your hand shakily found the mint toothpaste that your father used and weakly squeezed the tube, only a small amount of past leaving the bottle but you didn’t care enough to waste any more of the limited energy that you had left in you. About halfway through the slow brushing Ransom mentioned to you that you weren’t going to be home with the babysitter.

“What do you mean?” You spat the toothpaste out into the sink and looked up to your dad. Ransom looked at you with an almost guilty expression, but also he knew that you wouldn’t be that bothered about it, you would be with him all night and not some stranger.

“Well, Morgan kinda cancelled and now I don’t have a babysitter for you and you need to come with me tonight,” He explained. You nodded slowly, taking in what you could from your father’s quick explanation.

“Alright. Just please, don’t leave me with Jacob,” You requested. Ransom nodded as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “He keeps going on about all of this political stuff and I don’t understand.” Ransom couldn’t help but chuckle at your childish innocence.

“Good, you don’t want to. Not his side of politics anyway, I don’t even think it is politics, more just mindless drooling,” You giggled. “Now your breath doesn’t smell like acid and whatever you ate last night, we should probably actually get you cleaned up.” He said, turning the shower on.

“Can’t I just stay in the car and not see anyone? It still counts as being there with you!” You pointed out. Ransom threw a towel at you, and you caught it with an oomf. You sighed in defeat. “Fine.”

“Okay, shower. You smell,”

“You better hope you don’t sneeze when I’m straightening your hair, I’ll end up burning your ear,” Ransom taunted you, looking at you in your mirror. He was standing above you while you sat at your vanity table in your room.

“Dad! Don’t say that,” You whined. You sniffled and rubbed your nose with the tissue on your table. “With my luck, I will and you then you’ll burn me.” Ransom laughed quietly and shook his head.

“I was kidding, Y/N,” He deadpanned. “And anyway, you’ve taken medicine, so you should be fine. And with any luck, you might give it to your best friend Jacob!” He cheered sarcastically.

“Do you like anyone?” You asked him. He shook his head.

“I like you, but that’s really it,” He shrugged his shoulders as if it was no big deal.

“You must lead a sad life,” You mumbled. Ransom feigned shock and offense, before realising your point wasn’t too far off. “But you live a sad life with an amazing child.” You gave him a smug smile.

“Oh yes, definitely,” Ransom said, dragging your straighteners down your hair.

“I’m your favourite child!” You exclaimed. He hummed and nodded, putting your straighteners down and placing his hands on your shoulders.

“Y/N, you’re my only child,” he reminded you, and grabbed a bobble from the wooden surface to use to tie your hair back. “But, I guess you are my favourite.” He confirmed, pulling half of your hair up and tying it up.

“I don’t look sick, do I?” You asked him. Ransom shook his head.

“No, you look perfect, Y/N. You managed to get a bit of colour back onto your face and you don’t look like you’re at death’s door anymore,” You gave him a glare. “Again, I’m kidding.” He kissed the top of your head and gave you your jacket. “Alright, let’s go.” You put your jacket on and followed him out to the beamer. You put your head against the window, your eyes following the scenery as it passed. You were trying to concentrate on not bringing up any possible bile that was in your system, with your luck it would happen in your dad’s other most prized possession.

“I don’t know why I’m shaking,” You said, looking at your dad with confusion written on your face. Ransom turned to you as he pulled into the estate, putting the car into park.

“Probably because you’re still sick. We won’t be long, I promise,” He assured you, putting his large hand over your much smaller one that rested on your leg. You nodded and got out of the car, following your dad into the house. The symphony of the dogs barking together made you jump and grab onto your dad’s arm. “It’s alright. I think they’re tied up.” He said.

“It’s not that I’m scared of them, they’re just really loud,” You mumbled. Ransom nodded and made an ‘o’ shape with his mouth. “Can we go in now, it’s really cold out here.”

“Alright, let’s go then,” He said. You walked up the front steps of the mansion and your dad opened the door, seeing that everyone was already there, and you were both fashionably late, as per usual for you both.

Your grandma, however, wouldn’t let you call your lateness fashionable. Linda looked over your way and clenched her jaw.

“Always late. I’m not surprised”

Your Grampa, Richard, shook his head at her and stood up to greet you both.

“Now, now, Linda” He walked halfway to the door and motioned you further into the house. Ignoring the stares from the rest of the family, you wrapped the nearest hand around your dad's leg and let him guide you over to an armchair in the corner. Him not bothering to greet his father back, or carry a conversation with Walt who was now looking at him with his bottom lip curled. You tried not to peak at what was on Jacob’s phone as he stood near you, while he typed furiously over something, but it was no use. You lifted your head and instantly regretted it. Without trying too hard you caught sight of the words Hitler, Syria and #4chan so you decided not to indulge any further. Part of you wanted to know what he was talking about, but for the most part, you were fearing what he was looking at.

“I hate this place” Ransom muttered and lifted up his arm so that you could pull yourself up onto the chair arm where he sat.

“Can we go now? ” You whispered back to him, making your dad chuckle. Just after he did, his eyes narrowed at someone across the room. Looking over, you found that Walt was glaring at both of you, but mainly you. You felt your cheeks heat up and you hid your face behind the top of your jacket.

“Walt, why are you eyeing up my daughter?” Ransom asked. All of the conversations in the room ceased and all eyes turned to you and your dad in one corner, and Walt in the other.

“Why did you bring her? She’s clearly sick, we don’t want whatever sickness she has!” He yelled. Ransom chuckled.

“Then why are you here? Everyone must have surely caught whatever you have by now, I mean, you must have something to make you like that,” Ransom motioned up and down at Walt. Linda and Richard wanted to hide and never be found. “And, she has a name.” Ransom finished with a hard stare on his face, if looks could kill, Walt would have been six feet under on the damn spot.

“I don’t even know the kid’s name!” Walt yelled.

“It’s Y/N,” You said quietly, only loud enough so people could hear you. Walt smiled at you sarcastically.

“Thanks, but I didn’t ask,” He said snidely. A grim smirk grew on Ransom’s face.

“Walt, if you even dare try to talk to Y/N again, I’ll shove my foot so far up your ass, people are gonna think that I’m making hats,” Ransom threatened. “Now, if we’re all done. Me and Y/N are going to be leaving now.” Before Harlan could object and try to calm things down, your dad grabbed your hand and began to pull you to the door and out of the house. Ransom let you go and get into the car while he got in the driver’s side.

“You handled that well,” Ransom commented. You slid part way down the seat and slightly shook your head

“I was dying inside,” You murmured. Ransom rolled his eyes and gently pulled you up by the collar of your jacket. “I’m not lying, is Walt always like that?” You asked him. Ransom shrugged.

“Maybe he finally found out what all of the shit that Jacob says online,” Ransom said, making you laugh.

“I saw that, it was disturbing. I’m gonna lie at school and say I’m related to Meg instead.”

A collab between me and @ssebstann ! 💞

Written by both of us. Wattpad; @Lozzypoz321 Tumblr side acc; @padfootbuckster Pinterest; @lozzypoz321

@marvel-ous-hobbit @snarky--starky @rae-is-typing @stargazingfangirl18 @canadianhufflepuffavenger

#Ransom Drysdale x daughter!reader #Ransom x daughter!reader #Ransom Drysdale #Ransom Drysdale fanfic #ransom drysdale #Ransom Thrombey #Ransom Thrombey x daughter!reader #knives out #knives out oneshot #Ransom Drysdale onshot

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j0elmill3r · 4 years

Text

Sickness Struggles

Ransom Drysdale x Daughter!Reader

Knives Out Masterlist

Word Count: 3K!

Warnings: None, other than pure fluff and some sickness.

A/N from ssebstann: This our first collab fic! This came from anon who asked me if I would ever do this and here we are! I’m so proud of how this turned out and I hope you all like it and more writers would like to collab! I had so much fun doing this!

A/N from @lozzypoz321: I’m really happy with how this turned out and I owe it all to the queen up above, I loved this and I hope everyone does too!

“I tried to tell you, but you didn’t believe me,” You weakly pouted as he picked you up and put you on your unsteady and trembling legs. “Bet you believe me now.” You sassed him.

“I don’t want you to go,” You whimpered. Ransom smiled at you sadly and kissed the top of your head.

“I’m sorry,” You cried. Ransom pulled the box of tissues out from the drawer of his bedside table and put one in front of your nose.

“Hello?” He tried not to sound as if he had just woken up but failed miserably, from the other side of the call he heard the woman quietly chuckle before going back to being serious.

“Oh God, honey,” he sighed, feeling sorry for you before going back to the current matter at hand “I am definitely not cleaning that up” You used all the strength you could possibly muster to push yourself up off of your father’s bed and set your feet onto the ground, carefully making sure not to land on the pool of sick. You looked back up to Ransom, tears once again filling your eyes as the thought of being away from him flooded your mind.

“Can’t I just stay in the car and not see anyone? It still counts as being there with you!” You pointed out. Ransom threw a towel at you, and you caught it with an oomph. You sighed in defeat. “Fine.”

“Okay, shower. You smell,”

“I was kidding, Y/N,” He deadpanned. “And anyway, you’ve taken medicine, so you should be fine. And with any luck, you might give it to your best friend Jacob!” He cheered sarcastically.

“Do you like anyone?” You asked him. He shook his head.

“I like you, but that’s really it,” He shrugged his shoulders as if it was no big deal.

“You must lead a sad life,” You mumbled. Ransom feigned shock and offence, before realizing your point wasn’t too far off. “But you live a sad life with an amazing child.” You gave him a smug smile.

“Oh yes, definitely,” Ransom said, dragging your straighteners down your hair.

“I’m your favourite child!” You exclaimed. He hummed and nodded, putting your straighteners down and placing his hands on your shoulders.

“Y/N, you’re my only child,” he reminded you and grabbed a bobble from the wooden surface to use to tie your hair back. “But, I guess you are my favourite.” He confirmed, pulling half of your hair up and tying it up.

“I don’t look sick, do I?” You asked him. Ransom shook his head.

“I don’t know why I’m shaking,” You said, looking at your dad with confusion written on your face. Ransom turned to you as he pulled into the estate, putting the car into park.

“It’s not that I’m scared of them, they’re just really loud,” You mumbled. Ransom nodded and made an ‘o’ shape with his mouth. “Can we go in now, it’s really cold out here.”

Your grandma, however, wouldn’t let you call your lateness fashionable. Linda looked over your way and clenched her jaw.

“Always late. I’m not surprised”

Your Grampa, Richard, shook his head at her and stood up to greet you both.

“Now, now, Linda” He walked halfway to the door and motioned you further into the house. Ignoring the stares from the rest of the family, you wrapped the nearest hand around your dad's leg and let him guide you over to an armchair in the corner. Him not bothering to greet his father back, or carry a conversation with Walt who was now looking at him with his bottom lip curled. You tried not to peek at what was on Jacob’s phone as he stood near you, while he typed furiously over something, but it was no use. You lifted your head and instantly regretted it. Without trying too hard you caught sight of the words Hitler, Syria and #4chan so you decided not to indulge any further. Part of you wanted to know what he was talking about, but for the most part, you were fearing what he was looking at.

“I hate this place” Ransom muttered and lifted up his arm so that you could pull yourself up onto the chair arm where he sat.

“Walt, why are you eyeing up my daughter?” Ransom asked. All of the conversations in the room ceased and all eyes turned to you and your dad in one corner, and Walt in the other.

“Why did you bring her? She’s clearly sick, we don’t want whatever sickness she has!” He yelled. Ransom chuckled.

“Then why are you here? Everyone must have surely caught whatever you have by now, I mean, you must have something to make you like that,” Ransom motioned up and down at Walt. Linda and Richard wanted to hide and never be found. “And, she has a name.” Ransom finished with a hard stare on his face; if looks could kill, Walt would have been six feet under on the damn spot.

“I don’t even know the kid’s name!” Walt yelled.

“It’s Y/N,” You said quietly, only loud enough so people could hear you. Walt smiled at you sarcastically.

“Thanks, but I didn’t ask,” He said snidely. A grim smirk grew on Ransom’s face.

“You handled that well,” Ransom commented. You slid partway down the seat and slightly shook your head

“I was dying inside,” You murmured. Ransom rolled his eyes and gently pulled you up by the collar of your jacket. “I’m not lying, is Walt always like that?” You asked him. Ransom shrugged.

“Maybe he finally found out what all of the shit that Jacob says online,” Ransom said, making you laugh.

“I saw that, it was disturbing. I’m gonna lie at school and say I’m related to Meg instead.”

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