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mythvoiced · 2 months

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-. wenzhe-core (pt. 3 the return of the jedi) (main-verse)

panic attacks

if he were an idol/celebrity most (thirst) edits about him would be about his hands

sipping quietly and stressfully on his drink while people talk about things he can't admit to being familiar with because it's Niche Queer Things

he loves cats, it's not mutual

dogs love him, it's not mutual (he likes dogs just fine enough, but... fine enough)

thinks he has a sweet tooth because he's always sucking on a lollipop or candy or chewing on sweet gum or getting popsicles in summers, it's not a sweet-tooth, it's an oral fixation

all his pencils from tween school years were covered in bite-marks as a result

undiagnosed in one way or another, probably adhd

"i don't get people who can just sleep on trains, like, what if you miss your stop" he says but if he's taking a train and it takes more than 20 minutes to get to his destination he will fall asleep

pastel colours terrorist group

childhood friends with latent romantic feelings trope but he got over it relatively quick (he thinks)

as answer to the question what kind of anime he watches: oh, you know, demon slayer, blue lock, stuff like that

the anime he watches: skip & loafer, a sign of affection, the apothecary's diaries

seeing auntie nao in skip & loafer made him really weird for a week straight before he repressed it again

*smacks him violently over the head* this baby can fit so much internalized [insert] in him

once i finish the apothecary's diaries, by the way, i AM making a verse for him in that

"i don't really like children all that much" *a child hands him something to hold onto for them and he's visibly holding back tears*

he's actually REALLY weird about catching feelings i cannot stress this enough

if a girl he's into playfully smacks him around and leans into him he'll go home and scream into his pillow

if a guy he likes ruffles his hair and tells him to take it easy, cheer up, he'll go home and bang his head against the wall

in terms of non-binary people they're usually way out of his league

this IS his canonical hair-length (this guy is starting to piss me off btw the fucking gender envy i swear--)

also that last one was just me wanting to show you his manga fc again ♥

in terms of type of people he likes (both romantic and platonic, actually, they tend to overlap) he likes people who are (subjectively at the very least) mentally and emotionally stronger than him, people who can say no but are still kind

he doesn't have anything against meeker, more submissive personality types but he will usually create a stronger imbalance here where he'll try to be less of a friend and more of a caretaker

watching a historical/period romance: this is?? what is this, wow, i can't even tell what fake past this is supposed to be inspired by because the clothes sure won't tell me, the inaccuracy, the liberties-- wait, what are you doing, no don't turn it off, the second daughter just helped the love interest infiltrate back into the city which means all of qianqian's work to get him out of the city to avoid his death are for nought plus su mu just rejected the first daughter again and she stood up for the first time to chase after him and-

actually while putting this together i realized that childhood friends crush might have been a lot more serious than anticipated

i am casting the other lead as qianru btw because i can use content like this and bc it suits the personality i'm developing for her

also yes i am not kidding it's bad wenzhe might have straight up been in love with qianru we're- RUH ROH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

#;ooc #the guilty;about #so many feelings so many thought rats about this goon #i violently underestimated how BADLY wenzhe is doing UH OH #all of my muses are Not Okay tbh in one way or another #but they kind of... operate on spite or on lying to themselves or #i can't explain it but wenzhe is so so so close to spiralling he's straight up just not having a good time #i wanted a failguy with quirks but i had to go and kill of qianru and oh god oh god #i am curled in in a ball at the center of the room why did i do this to him #i mean I AM NOT TAKING IT BACK but YOU KNOW #;queue

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storiesofsvu · 2 years

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The Marine's Girl Ch 1

Abigail Borin x reader Warnings: language, mentions of injury/hospitals/war. A/N: i know little to nothing about marines/the army/doctors without borders so expect some inaccuracies in this fic lol. also for reference, most of this fic takes place prior to NCIS, when Borin is serving time as a marine in Iraq, and it's the early 2000's, where things like cell phones aren't frequent and definitely aren't fancy/smart phones.

Abigail sighed in frustration, and then immediately winced in pain, clutching at her side. She was annoyed this was taking so long, and pissed off her Captain had insisted on her going to the hospital rather than just treating her injuries on sight. Her stubbornness was shining through as her main personality trait today and she wasn’t about to let up now, huff escaping her lips when the curtain was finally pulled back and you slipped in.

“I’m so sorry for the wait Ms….” Your eyes shot between her admittance paper and her uniform, “sorry, uh, no one put your rank on your paperwork.”

“It’s Sergeant, but just call me Abi.”

“Alright, Abi. I’m Dr. Summers, but you can call me y/n if we’re doin’ first names.”

You flipped through her papers on the clipboard briefly, just the basic information and a tiny amount of triage that had determined her not in need of immediate attention. (Hence the long wait.) Tugging on a pair of gloves you plopped down onto the rolling stool, moving to her bedside.

“Alright, what’re we working with?” You asked, gently turning her arm in your hands, cautiously unwrapping the gauze, “you get hit?” Your eyes darted up to hers briefly,

“No, more like a routine drill gone wrong. I missed a jump, took one hell of a tumble, sliced my arm on a loose nail.”

“Hmm.” You grimaced at the thought, sure, you were fine with blood and wounds, but knowing how much that must’ve hurt in the moment wasn’t appealing. You surveyed the wound quickly before wrapping it back up, “you’ll need stitches, and I’m gonna have to give you tetanus shot to be safe. Anything else hurting? Did you hit your head at all?”

“No to the head, but my side..” Abi gestured to her farther side. Following her lead you leant over the bedside, pulling up her shirt to expose the darkening mark on her skin, you pursed your lips at the sight, your fingers gently pressing into the mark. She groaned quietly at your actions.

“How much does that hurt?”

“Seven?”

“Okay.” You pulled her shirt back down and stood back upright, “I’m gonna grab the suture kit to stitch that up, and grab the portable x-ray…or…find someone who knows where x-ray is to take you down there. I’ll be right back.” You’d all but stripped your gloves off when Abi quickly spoke.

“Uh, hey, can I ask you something?”

“Yeah, ‘course.”

“Should I be concerned that you don’t know where x-ray is? Or that your badge says ‘visitor’?” You outwardly laughed at that, flipping your other badge to the front.

“I’ve got privileges. I promise I’m not some weirdo off the street who found a pair of scrubs and wanted to play pretend.” You smiled, “would be pretty stupid to do that in a military hospital anyways.”

“You new?”

“Technically, yeah. I’m from Doctors Without Borders, but you guys were seriously understaffed so I was pulled from the field to here until further notice. They preferred that rather than pulling in new kids who wouldn’t know how to deal with army level situations.”

“And now you’re stuck healing the people doing the bombings rather than helping the innocent civilians?”

“Yeah….” You sighed, ducking your gaze before glancing back up with a small grin on your face, “but every so often a real cute Marine pops in to make up for it.”

Abi felt her cheeks flush the slightest as you grinned at her over your shoulder, ducking back through the curtain. When you returned you stitched her up swiftly, administering the appropriate shots and painkillers to help her manage the pain. She was still slightly annoyed at how long everything was taking, but understood now just how understaffed you were, giving you personally a bit of a break on the matter. You flitted off dealing with some other patients while you waited for her X-ray’s to come back, huffing in defeat when they finally did.

“Well Abi, it looks like you’re stuck with us for a couple of days.” You lead with the bad news as you re-entered the curtain.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, seriously?”

“Yes.” You chuckled, “one of your ribs is just cracked and it’ll heal fine but the other one’s broken.”

“It’s a broken rib, I’ll be fine.”

“Yeah…they all say that…until it’s one bad move during an op or a drill and the rib punctures into your lung and you’re drowning on your own blood.” She groaned and tossed herself back onto the pillows, “and I have a feeling you’re more than likely to fib to your Captain and not take the adequate time to heal properly.”

“It comes with the job.” She half smirked at you in response and you smiled.

“You guys all need to chill a little more.” You quickly checked through her vitals, noting them into a chart. “Alright, someone’s going to come transfer you to an actual room and keep an eye on your stats.”

“They rushing you off somewhere else?” She asked, cocking a brow.

“I’m needed on an assist in the O.R.” You sighed.

“Sounds like I’m not the only one who needs to chill.” She smirked and you shook your head in a small laugh.

“I’ll swing by on my way out to check on you.”

“Thanks.”

It took longer than you’d expected to get everything wrapped up on your end in the O.R, breathing out a heavy sigh of relief when you knew you were finally done for the day. You changed, tossing what you needed into your bag and made your way out of the locker room.

Abi on the other hand spent some time sleeping, alternated with half paying attention to whatever t.v was in English and scrolling through her phone (and updating her Captain on her condition). Her eyes moved up from the small screen when there was a soft knock at the door.

“Hey.” You greeted quietly, “how ya feeling?”

“Better.” She smiled, “pain killers are definitely helping.”

You laughed softly, swinging the door nearly all the way shut as you moved closer to the bed, dropping your coat into a spare chair.

“You hungry?” You quirked a brow, “I know the patient food is pretty crappy, wouldn’t be surprised if you didn’t eat much.”

“Like you wouldn’t fucking believe.” Abi pushed herself up more on the bed, pulling her legs up criss crossed in her lap.

“Well…don’t go blabbing to the other patients, and definitely not the nurses, I’m pretty sure I could get into mountains of trouble for this.” You pulled the fast food bag out of your duffle, hand delving in to pull out a few pieces.

“You snuck me in McDonald’s?! You fucking angel!” Abi gushed as you handed her the food.

“Played it safe with a burger, junior chicken and some fries, little bit of everything.”

“Why?” She asked softly, gaze meeting yours and you shrugged.

“Had a few friends who were out on the ships, said things like this were what they missed the most.” Crumpling the top of the food bag you shoved it back into your duffle, picking up your coat, “figured if you were stuck in here for a few days it was the least I could do.”

“You’re not staying? Your food’ll be cold by the time you get home.” You chuckled,

“They’re putting me up at the hotel right cross the street, I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“You bought me dinner, the least I can do is keep you company while we eat.” She protested, a small grin on her face.

“You sure?” You hesitated slightly, your coat dangling from your arm.

“Yeah.” She gestured to the chair, “besides, you called me cute and brought me dinner, mark me down as intrigued.”

“Okay.” You laughed, feeling your cheeks heat as you settled into a chair, pulling out your own food.

“What got you into Doctors Without Borders?” Abi asked over a bite of cheeseburger, glancing toward you.

“I finished my residency and had no idea what I wanted to specialize in. I knew I was helping, but felt I could do something more, ya know?” You shot her a glance, “one of our attendings had been an army doctor, he always said I had a knack for specializing in trauma so I started to look into it. Without borders just seemed more my style than actually working for the army. No..offence?” Abi laughed,

“None taken. There’s a reason I’m a marine. And for what it’s worth, I commend you for what you do.”

“Really?” Your brow furrowed, glancing up at her.

“Yeah.” She chuckled, “army, marine, people like me, I mean, we choose to be heading into potentially very dangerous territory to do our jobs. We’re literally here to protect and fight when needed. But you, I mean, without borders? That’s about helping people who can’t afford it, or who don’t have access to any proper healthcare.”

“You’re not wrong.” You mulled over a few French fries, “my Mom was on vacation in Africa, fell down a flight of stairs and when she saw a medic they said it was just sprained. They threw it in a sling and called it a day, when she got home she found out it was actually broken. Maybe it kinda stems from that? I mean, a broken wrist is nothing compared to the shit I’ve seen.”

“I can only imagine.”

“Yeah….”

Abi frowned at the way your eyes ghosted over, no doubt thinking back to the horrid images you’d seen in the field. As much as she’d had her own horrible scenes, she knew yours had to be worse, you were the one that was supposed to fix them all, that you had very limited amount of time to try and assess who needed the most help first and go from there. You probably lost more patients on a daily basis than she could even believe.

“Well I thank you for what you do, both here and in the field. It’s way more important than anything I’m doing.”

“Thanks.” You glanced up at her, holding her gaze with a warm smile. Part of you absolutely melted at the grin on her face, fuck was she ever beautiful, even in a hospital gown. The vibe in the room shifted slightly as she unwrapped her second burger, a slight glint in her eyes as she spoke again.

“So these cute Marines, they pop up often? You got one of your own?” You laughed heartily,

“You would be the first.” You half teased, tossing her a coy glance, “and considering I’d rather not be arrested over here, no, I don’t have one my own.”

“Ugh. I feel you on that.”

Abi rolled her eyes, as much as a lot of the world was behind on LGBT rights, in Iraq it was still a federal crime to have any kind of homosexual interaction, even if you weren’t a local. The Marines or without borders could only protect either of you so far and you’d both done everything you could to simply wait til you were home, or in a more safe space. But today, something had shifted, as if you were both willing to risk at least some part of your lives to spend time with the other. After all, you’d already snuck out to a McDonald’s and snuck it back into her room, and she was more than happy spending some extra time with you.

“Makes things a little more difficult, but I know it’ll work out in the end. I mean..that’s what they keep telling us right?” You half laughed, chucking your cheeseburger wrapper into the garbage can.

“They do.” Abi smiled at you, “but I think they’re right. I mean, you and I have seen a lot of shit, things at least somewhat work out in the end, right?”

“For the ones who believe with all their hearts and hope like no tomorrow, maybe?”

“Hey, don’t be a Debbie downer, I’m the one in the hospital bed.” Abi half teased, smiling as she was graced with a half smile from you.

“Sorry.” You sighed, “it’s just…been a long day.”

“Then go home.” She spoke softly, though you could nearly hear her sergeant commanding voice shining through, “don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine. And I’m sure you’ll be back at some ungodly hour of the morning before I’m even awake.”

“You’re not wrong about that.” You chuckled softly, picking up your things. “Thanks Abi…this was a nice…break from reality for a bit.”

“Hey, I’ll be here all week.” She teased and you half rolled your eyes.

“I’ll see you tomorrow. Try to get some sleep. The nurse told you about the pain med button?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, “g’night y/n”

“Goodnight.” You shot her a small smile as you pulled on your coat, quietly shutting the door behind you as you left. You weren’t quite sure what was going on, or how you felt, but you knew that for the first time since you’d been in Iraq your heart was skipping a beat for an entirely different reason than normal, and for once, you weren’t scared to pursue it anymore.

#abigail borin #ncis #abigail borin x reader #ncis imagine #ncis x reader #the marine's girl

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lettheladylead · 3 years

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Not Your Aunt

Chapter 5: Louie [ao3 link]

When she’d gotten the call a few weeks earlier, Goldie initially thought it was from Scrooge. She gave her cell phone number out to a very small number of people, after all, and Scrooge’s home line had its own customized ringtone so she always knew it was him.

Instead, it was one of his kids. Well, one of Della’s kids, she was pretty sure. He introduced himself as Louie and she did a quick search online to see what he looked like - the only run-in she’d had with the kids so far they’d all been dressed the same so even if she had been paying attention, she wouldn’t have been able to tell the difference.

Her first instinct had been to tell him no and to move on with her life. She was a busy woman and she had other things to do. But there was a little part of her that was mad at Scrooge for never calling her about the note she’d left in his hat. There was no way he hadn’t seen it and she left him a treasure she didn’t have to because she wanted to go on an adventure with him again. But no. He didn’t call and it’d been almost a year. So she said yes to mentoring because she knew it’d piss him off and there was no greater joy in her life.

Or she’d thought there was no greater joy. But the feeling of someone coming back for her - coming to save her life despite how she treated them - it was something else entirely. Scrooge had done it once or twice in the past, but not recently and not happily. She couldn’t even remember the last time someone had come back for her and her feelings about it were a bit overwhelming so she didn’t even give the kid another glance before bolting out the door.

It’d been a few days since that party and Goldie was enjoying being several hundred million dollars richer. It wasn’t like Sharpie needed the money - he had Scrooge’s inheritance to look forward to (though if Scrooge never planned to retire or die, maybe not? She didn’t like to think about it too much).

She was laying in bed in a familiar hotel in the outskirts of Seattle when she pulled out her wallet to stare at the photos again. The last few days, she’d spent a ridiculous amount of time just staring and thinking and not doing or saying anything. She felt pathetic.

But looking at the kid’s goofy little smile and thinking back to when he helped her effectively pull off their improvised scheme warmed her heart. She’d never felt this way about a member of Scrooge’s family before. Della and Donald had treated her like an aunt on occasion (usually just as a way to get on her nerves), but Goldie never saw either of them as a true schemer like herself. Donald didn’t have any interest in money or treasure and Della idolized her uncle too much to think for herself.

But Louie was different and Goldie could see that. Just the fact that he’d reached out to her after hearing the story of Gumption (which, from what he told her, had a lot of inaccuracies to it. Scrooge loved to exaggerate or conveniently forget details when he told stories of their past) made her want to see what he had to offer.

Initially, her plan had been to rob the kid and take something small of Scrooge’s - small enough to carry without much effort, but big enough to piss him off - then Scrooge would angrily chase her down and they could argue and she’d tease him and it would’ve been a nice little time. Their Golden Lagoon adventure was nice but Glomgold had ruined a lot of the fun she’d planned so it’d have been nice to get back to basics.

Instead she got weird, mixed up feelings about this kid who reminded her of herself and Scrooge and Donald all combined into one tiny package. She did not want to get attached to anyone in Scrooge’s family. The only reason their relationship worked was because she kept him on edge and interested by keeping him at arm’s length. Getting close to his family was not arm’s length. It was too much. She’d have to push Sharpie away the same way she did with Donald and Della and that was that.

She glanced over at the photo she had of Scrooge in Dawson and felt her heart skip a beat. She loved this picture. She loved thinking about the time they spent together back then, even if he’d broken her heart by the end of it. It didn’t matter anymore. She’d give almost anything to be young with him again - maybe even get a fresh start.

Goldie let out a loud sigh and tossed the wallet across the room - she watched it soar and land gracefully on top of her bags. Her bags were stuffed with gold and jewels and treasures from that crazy little birthday party and she hadn’t had the chance to stop in Dawson and drop it all off at the closest thing she had to a home.

Peeking out of one of her bags was the idol she’d stolen from Sharpie’s room before their adventure began. She stared at it and wondered what kind of significance it held for him. She wasn’t going to give it back, of course, because he needed to be taught a lesson about trusting con artists. But also a little part of her thought about maybe giving it back depending on how important it was to him.

She rolled over and stared up at the ceiling. Kids made people soft. Scrooge was so different than he was just forty years earlier and sometimes she didn’t know what to make of it. If thirty-year-old Goldie knew he could be this way, maybe she would’ve approached their relationship differently. But he always spoke so harshly about children and family and she never could’ve imagined him changing his mind.

Her thoughts were cut off by a buzz and a ding! from her phone and Goldie huffed as she reached into her pocket to grab it. She hoped desperately that it wasn’t from someone work-related (though, really, who else could it be?). She wasn’t in the mood to think about hotel management. She’d rather drink wine and soak in the bathtub and think about nothing.

She glanced at her phone and saw a text message waiting for her. It was a short message from an unknown number that just said:

“Do you know how to text?”

Goldie blinked a few times at it and wondered briefly if this was a wrong number. Then she glanced at the area code and realized it was coming from Duckburg. She had a pretty good idea who it was and her heart skipped another beat.

There was an unspoken rule between her and Scrooge. He never reached out to her first (except for two very unique occasions). She was always the one to contact him. But Louie wasn’t Scrooge and Louie followed his own rules, apparently.

She took a moment to think before typing a short response. “Yes, I do.”

“Cool.”

She wondered if the conversation was over until she suddenly received an influx of emojis. Goldie raised an eyebrow at the group of ducks and dollar signs and bags of money and angry faces, not really sure what to make of it.

“What’s all this supposed to mean?”

She watched as her phone said he was typing and then not typing and then typing again.

“I’m still mad at you.”

Goldie let out a breathy laugh and rolled her eyes. He really was related to Scrooge.

“What’d you do with all the money? Put it in your very own Money Bin?”

She rolled onto her side and thought about whether or not to answer him. Though she couldn’t hide everything from Scrooge over the years, she did a good job of keeping most of her life hidden away from his wandering eyes. Though Louie was definitely great at keeping things from the adults in his life, he was still just a kid and she didn’t want anything slipping out accidentally.

“Not sure that’s any of your business.”

He started typing and then stopped again. Goldie stared at her phone for a full minute without getting a response before realizing she may have hurt his feelings a bit with that one. She groaned and dropped her phone back on the mattress. She didn’t want to care about something so trivial, but…

She sighed deeply and grabbed the phone again, quickly typing another message without giving it much thought.

“I have several places to put my earnings. A lot of different projects and business ventures. And the rest goes into savings.”

Goldie huffed at herself and put the phone down again. She’d managed to avoid this kind of thing easily with Donald or Della - keeping herself at a distance and never spending significant time with either of them without Scrooge. But just one afternoon alone with Sharpie and she felt an urge to protect his stupid little feelings and his stupid little face. There was something about seeing fear in those big ol’ eyes that made her heart beat faster.

Her phone beeped again and she hesitated for just a moment before grabbing it.

“What kind of business ventures? If you’re looking for investment opportunities, I could give you a pitch that even Scrooge McDuck hasn’t seen.”

She smiled and thought back to the posters on the wall of the boys’ bedroom; several of them were very juvenile business ideas that would never take off in the real world. But she could appreciate his sense of inventiveness.

“Even if you got Scrooge to sit for a meeting, I doubt he’d invest more than a dollar into anything.”

“You overestimate him! He wouldn’t give me more than a quarter.” Followed by several angry and sad and money bag emojis.

Goldie laughed and sat up in the hotel bed, feeling a little more like herself after having an opportunity to make fun of her...ex. Or whatever they were. It didn’t matter. She was having fun.

“Keep trying. I’m sure you’ll wear him down.”

He sent another group of emojis and Goldie decided that was the end of that. She put her phone back on the bed, screen side down, and turned to look over at the idol again. She definitely wouldn’t be giving it back.

Louie stared at his phone for a few minutes, wondering if he’d be getting another message. To be perfectly honest, he hadn’t expected any response at all, so the past ten minutes were giving him a lot of confusing, conflicting feelings.

He liked Goldie. She stole all his money and kind of broke his heart a little, but before that he’d started to think of her as family. It was hard to not think of her that way when she risked her life for his. But still...the money.

There was definitely no plan to contact her again when she left without even saying goodbye. Louie was frustrated and sad and annoyed and kept thinking about how he’d gotten too close. He knew when he first contacted her that this was a business decision - a con artist was not someone to befriend or trust or depend on. But in just a few short hours he felt a pull to her that he couldn’t really explain.

And he couldn’t stop thinking back to the way he’d felt when she suggested they work together again. He knew liars and thieves and knew she wasn’t an honest person, but he really felt like she meant it. And despite what happened afterwards and how angry he was for the next few days, Louie couldn’t help but wonder what that really meant for them.

She and Uncle Scrooge clearly weren’t getting back together anytime soon. And Goldie was a world traveler - always off on some new adventure somewhere far away. Even if they did work together again, it could be years away. Uncle Scrooge said sometimes he went years without hearing from her.

Louie didn’t want to wait years. Goldie was the first person in a long time to appreciate his scheming mind without a hint of irony. It was refreshing and it made him feel better about the fact that she’d completely robbed him.

So he texted her. It was a long shot considering her age and the fact that she fumbled with her smartphone like someone who was still struggling to figure out how touch screens work, but Louie figured it was worth the attempt.

He looked at their messages again and smiled. Texting with a weird old thief lady was not exactly on his list of things he expected to be doing at the tender age of eleven, but it was kind of fun. She could tell him embarrassing stories about Uncle Scrooge or Uncle Donald or his mom. Maybe she knew other people in the family she could talk about.

With only a moment’s hesitation, Louie pressed his thumb down on her phone number and went to add a contact name. He stared at the screen for a few seconds before happily typing Aunt Goldie and hitting save.

He had to admit, it just kind of felt right.

#ducktales #louie duck #goldie o'gilt #scrooge mcduck #scheme team #fic #fics #not your aunt #this one took forever cuz im not rly happy with it but im excited to do the next one

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fa-headhoncho · 4 years

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Unlike The Rest: Part 1

George Weasley x Reader (eventually)

Prompt: The last few years have already been rough for you. Trying to make a new name for yourself while everyone still believes you like the rest of your family. But, this year is much worse since your little brother is starting his first year at Hogwarts.

Word Count: 2069

Reader: Female

Warning: My first time writing for HP in a LONG time, so I’m sorry in advance for any Americanized things and inaccuracy. I’m rusty, okay? Some people might be a bit out of character like the mother but I think she’s proven to have a bit of a different side of her that we don’t see.

Masterlist Series Masterlist

======

You run into the wall and everything just overwhelms you. The smoke of the train clouding the air, the chatter of new and old students filling your ears, and the sense of relief. The long summer months have finally come to this. Back at Hogwarts, the escape from your dreadful life.

A large smile appears on your features, seeing familiar faces whether they be in a scowl or a smile. You loved it here. Your home away from home… This place has given a new light into your life that you needed. Sure, you were a bit of a prat your first year but you seemed to turn it around your second year once you realized how much of an arsehole you were actually being.

Then something suddenly hits you in the back, snapping you out of your daze.

“Move it, tosser.” Your little brother sneers, your parents following behind them.

“Shove it, Draco.” You spit back, just glad he didn’t knock over your trolley full of stuff. “Next time you do that, I’ll make sure to tell the whole school you still sleep with your blankie. That will be sure to make a good first impression.”

The platinum blondes mouth opens slightly, a worried expression on his face. “Father!” He whines, turning to the looming figure standing behind him.

“(Y/N),” He sighs, “don’t threaten your brother.”

You just roll your eyes and straighten out your trolley, reaching over and giving your cat a calming pet. Dazing off once again, you look around the platform. You see Angelina Johnson, a Gryffindor in your year, and give her a friendly smile. She looks a bit taken aback at the fact that you were even tempting to interact with her. She just laughs and turns to her group of friends and starts giggling at you.

Well, at least you thought you made some new friends last year.

Your father and Draco continue to walk, trying to find a better spot than in front of the entrance of the platform. You slowly follow after them, wanting to not be left behind.

“...I’m sure you’ll get into Slytherin, Draco.” Father continues to press on. “Unlike your sister, you won’t disappoint us.” He takes a side glance at you but you pretend to not hear him, “Will you?”

“Of course not father.” He obliges as he always does.

Draco has always been Daddy’s little pet but it got worse since you were sorted into your house, Hufflepuff, in. The house of kindness, loyalty, and diligence-- the house known for producing the least amount of dark wizards. At first, you were also mad and disappointed in this. Ultimately becoming a complete brat your first year to anyone and everyone to try to make up for it but the Sorting Hat’s words seem to echo in your head since then;

“I see good things to come from you, a Malfoy unlike the rest.”

And those words are what keeps you going in a household like yours.

“Muggle studies, really, (Y/N).” Mother exclaims in disgust, reading your schedule for the new year. “Out of all the electives, you picked muggle studies?”

You think quickly, muggles and their culture have always seemed to interest you. Your father has talked bad about them and how they are inferior to the wizarding community but they seem to just have an intriguing lifestyle.

“It must be a mistake!” You fret, grabbing the scroll from her hands and rereading it over. It definitely was not a mistake but you had to fake it. “I must have accidentally not sign up for another elective,” Frowning, you roll up your schedule and put it into your back pocket. “I think I was too focused on getting into Care of Magical Creatures…”

Father just rolls his eyes and leans his weight onto his long black cane. You never knew why he needed that cane but you never dared to ask, you know he keeps his wand in the handle but the whole cane wasn’t really necessary. He has always been into the theatrics.

“I’ll be sure to have that changed.” He promises. “I don’t want you turning up like the muggle-loving Weasle father.” He sneers, his eyes falling to the entrance, seeing the first of the children of said family run through it. “A disgrace they are to the wizarding world.”

“Weasley…” You mumble under your breath, correcting him. Draco catches this and his eyebrows perk up, excited to get you in trouble once more.

“What did you sa--”

“Merlin,” Your father gasps, “Harry Potter…” He sees the famous boy run through with the youngest Weasley boy.

“Is it really?” Mother gasps, eyes snapping over to inspect as well.

Everyone knows who Harry Potter is, especially people like your parents. He’s a legend in wizarding history and it’s been long-awaited for him to come to Hogwarts.

“Draco, you need to make friends with him.” Your father says in a monotone voice, eyes never leaving the boy who lived. “Make sure he knows what families to associate with.” He turns back to his son.

“Of course, Father.” He gleams, excited at the opportunity to make his father proud.

Suddenly, a herd of students starts making their way to the train. Some more frantic than others. You smile. It’s finally time.

“You should be going now,” Your mother solemnly announces, sad to see her last child going off to Hogwarts. “You guys are growing up so fast,” She sighs cupping Draco’s face, father just rolls his eyes at her sentiments.

Draco just returns the smile and pulls her hand off of his cheek. He turns around, going to double-check all his stuff and continue to talk to your father about Harry Potter and the Weasley’s.

She then turns to you, lowering her voice into a whisper. “Make sure you keep an eye on him, (Y/N).” She requests, a worried expression on his face. “I’m afraid that his mouth will get him into a lot of trouble.”

“Wouldn’t be a Malfoy without it, Mum.” You try to crack a joke with her. Out of everyone in your family, your mother seems to be the least cruel and most understanding. Not that she certainly agrees with you, but you are her daughter and she loves you. “I’ll try.” You give her a tight-lipped smile, giving her hand a squeeze. She returns the smile and sends you on your way.

=====

“... I can’t believe he decided to sit that embarrassment Weasle-B.” Draco scoffs, already chatting shit with his friends Crabbe and Goyle.

You’ve always hated these kids, their parents are friends with yours and they’ve always seemed to cause trouble together. Your mother thinks they just have crushes on you but you rather not think of that.

“Crabbe, are you even listening?” He proclaimed, noticing the stout child's open mouth and gazed over expression. You look up from your copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them to meet his gaze. You shift uncomfortably.

Crabbe snaps his eyes back to Draco and nods so vigorous that you’re sure he just scrambled whatever brains he had left in there.

“I’m going to go change into my robes.” You announce, needing to get away from these idiots as soon as possible. Belladonna, your white tabby, jumps off of your lap as you stand. “You three should too, we are getting close to the castle.”

You reach up and grab your yellow and black robes from the compartment above the bench you and Draco were sitting in. The other two boys do the same, grabbing their plain uniforms. Draco just sits there and shakes his head at you.

“I still can’t believe you’re in Hufflepuff.” He shakes his head.

“I still can’t believe you’re a prat.” You snap back, sending him a stern look. “The school year hasn’t even started and you already are pissing me off, Draco.” He hides his frown as you put your things under your arm and storm out of the cabin.

=====

The dirt path is surrounded by trees, the first years just left with Hagrid on their traditional boat ride to show the kids the castle. You remember getting so excited, seeing the lights and the bridge sparked something in you that year.

Last year and this year are the same, you get to ride carriages across the bridge into the castle. Less grand, but still riveting none the less… Well, it should be but it just seems like a popularity contest. Seeing everyone group together to make sure they’re with their friends makes you nervous.

After first year, you made a bit of a bad name for yourself. Wanting to live up to the Malfoy name, since your sorting didn’t, you decided to act a bit out. Doing what you knew your parents would want, bullying the people in your year about their blood status and even their financial status. You really did regret it by the end of that year, no one wanted to be your friend nor did they even want to interact with you. The Slytherin wouldn’t either, they thought you were a disgrace as much as your parents did.

That led you to getting into some trouble. Which led you to detentions with Filch and even Hagrid when he was busy. Your heart changed when one of the said detentions met you with helping Hagrid care for the Bowtruckles that he kept on the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest. Your love for the creatures sparked something and Hagrid had a chat with you. You realized what you did was wrong and wanted to change it. After that, you resorted to being quiet and just keeping your mouth shut… Well, as much as you could.

Last year, you even dared to start making friends. Starting with your teammates on the Quidditch team. No one ever seemed to stick, though. But, people did start becoming nicer to you once they could tell the change of heart… It always seemed hard to keep friends once they heard your last name. All but one person cared about your last name and you are very grateful for him.

So this leaves you here, waiting till the last carriage or till someone invited you to come with them. You glance around, looking for that said one friend you made last year but everyone looks the same in their robes.

Your search is interrupted by rather large body knocking into you, sending your book flying onto the muddy ground. You frown once more, looking at your now ruined book on the ground. You turn to see what giant had bumped into you. Meeting a brown pair of eyes, you knew exactly who it was.

“Weasley.” You sigh, staring at the tall red head. “You’ve ruined my book!” You cry as he bends down to pick it up for you. He tries to open it but the mud keeps it sucked shut.

“I’m sor--”

“Daddy can buy you a new one.” The other one buds in, a scold grows on your face. No matter what your parents have said, you’ve always found the Weasley twins entertaining, to say the least. The three of you have your feud but it’s much more… playful than what others seem to think. They’ve always seemed to like riling you up, especially after first year. After the attitude check you had, you’ve realized it’s become a bit harmless and rather fun to argue with them.

“Which one are you, again?” You question, breaking the standoff. They both scoff, they loved playing that game with their mother but it just hits differently when others say it. You feel a bit bad and thought you went a bit too far, looking at the face of the one who initially bumped into, he looks a bit defeated at the fact that you can’t tell the difference.

“(Y/N)!” A familiar voice interrupts the silence. You turn and see your friend, Cedric, waving you over to him and his group. A large smile appears on your face. You wave back and turn back to face the twins.

“Always a pleasure, boys.” You chirp, your mood obviously changed. “I hope to see you in DADA this year.” The tall one then hands you back your book. “Thank you, George.” Grabbing it, you make sure to take a glance back at Fred, the smirk on your face matches his.

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley imagine #george weasley imagines #harry potter imagines #weasley #fred weasley #malfoy #george weasley x malfoy!reader #george weasley x you #george weasley x (Y/N)#harry potter #draco malfoy x sister!reader #fandoms-archive #weasley twins #weasley twins imagine #weasley twins x reader #malfoy reader #unlike the rest

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heyyy-hey-babyyy · 3 years

Text

When We Were Young (part VII)

Dean x Fem!Reader; Sam x Fem!Reader (platonic)

Read part I here ; Read part II here ; Read part III here ;

Read part IV here ; Read part V here ; Read part VI here

Warnings: Angst, Mentions of trauma/abuse, brief moments of self-harm, mentions of anxiety attack, *moments of assault*

**This chapter contains images of assault. Please be aware if this is trigging for you!

B/N: I’m getting a little lost in my own timeline, so apologies for any inaccuracies... All mistakes I claim as my own.

2164 words

Summary: Dean, Sam, and Y/N grew up together, but when she’s taken away for over 10 years, the boys have no idea what she’s been through. Will asking her to move into the bunker with them reveal more than she’s ready for?

You could feel Dean crouched in front of you, and could see his lips moving as he spoke, but everything was moving in slow motion and the words weren’t reaching your ears. Standing quickly, Dean didn’t have time to reach for you as you excited the house as fast as you could. You needed air.

Dean stood again, wearing the same shocked look as Sam and Bobby. But he didn’t follow you, giving you space for a moment.

“Did she just say that was Greg?” Sam asked quietly, moving to stand next to his brother. You had just exited the house, the screen door slamming shut behind you. “The same Greg she emptied a gun into almost fifteen years ago?”

“Yeah,” Dean grunted out, weighing his options. He knew you were upset with him for his outburst back at the bunker and he didn’t want to push you away further, so instead he turned toward Bobby trying to figure out their next move.

“One of you boys gonna fill me in on what all that was?” Sam scrubbed a hand down his face, knowing this wasn’t his or Dean’s story to tell, but he definitely was not about to dive into the specifics of Y/N’s life in foster care. Especially not when Bobby was glaring at both him and Dean like he was. Like a protective father.

Dean cleared his throat loudly, before speaking. “Something bad happened to her, Bobby, when she was in foster care...” Dean trailed off, measuring his words. “And the guy that did it is supposed to be dead. I guess he isn’t as human as she initially thought...” He trailed off again, glancing toward the front of the house. He squeezed Sam’s arm once, knowing he would speak more with Bobby, before heading outside with a quick, “she shouldn’t be alone.” The two men nodded in agreement and Dean headed toward the front door, intent on keeping you close to him from here on out.

-----------

You weren’t planning on going anywhere after rushing out of the house. You just needed some quick air, and plopped yourself down on the hood of the Impala once you were out the door. Dean would be pissed that you were scuffing up baby’s hood, but you didn’t care at the moment, and he’d forgive you.

You laid back against the cool hood, losing yourself in your thoughts. How could he possibly be alive? And why come after you now?

You didn’t want to think too far into the situation, afraid you would have to live through those long nights shaking in your bed again, so you tried your best to separate that life from the one you were trying to lead now, the biggest different of course being Dean. It didn’t seem to be a huge coincidence that the darkest moments of your life were when you were miles away from Dean and Sam Winchester. The thought made you smile to yourself despite what was going on.

You were so caught in your own head that you didn’t feel the hand grasp tightly around your ankle and drag you from the Impala’s smooth hood, slamming your head on the bumper on the way down, making your world go black.

-----------

“Y/N, listen,” Dean started walking across the patio toward the Impala figuring you would be close by. He glanced around quickly when he didn’t see you leaning up against the car’s smooth hood like he expected.

“Y/N” He called loudly, cupping his hands around his mouth to amplify his voice. Maybe you had walked down the aisle of cars. You couldn’t have gone too far, he thought to himself, it had only been minutes since you walked through the front door.

Dean walked swiftly down the first row of immovable cars, turning the corner to glance down the next, and the next, and the next, not seeing any sign of you.

“Y/N!” Dean shouted again, running down the last few rows and back up toward the house, beginning to panic.

Sam and Bobby heard his last shout and were clamoring out the door toward him, fear written across their faces.

“What’s going on?” Sam asked anxiously. Dean shook his head, running his fingers through his short hair in frustration.

“She’s not out here!” He finally called out at the two men, who swiftly turned and rushed back into the office, preparing to pull up the security footage again. Dean followed, pacing the floor anxiously while Bobby slowly pulled up the salvage yard’s security tapes.

Sam was trying to calm his brother with constant mantra’s of ‘it’s gonna be okay’ and ‘we’ll find her,’ but Dean wasn’t having any of it, swiping Sam’s hand away when he placed it on his shoulder.

“Come on, Bobby, we don’t have all day!”

Bobby glared at Dean again, hard, reminding the older Winchester of his place. Dean shut his mouth but continued pacing, avoiding his brother’s gaze.

“Alright,” Bobby started, snapping Dean to attention. “it’s starting. Looks like Y/N was just sitting on the hood of the Impala after she walked out.” Dean rushed to Bobby’s side and glanced down at the security footage, hiding a small smile when he saw you sprawled out on the hood, exactly like he knew you would be. He kept watching when suddenly the footage went all garbled and they couldn’t make any sense of what was happening. The tape fixed itself and Y/N was gone, the Impala’s hood barren.

“Dammit!” Dean roared, knowing that Greg must have messed with the security tapes. Bobby slammed the laptop closed, muttering to himself, while Sam went back to mother-hening Dean.

“Sam!” Dean shouted, warning his brother. “Get. away. from me.” Sam huffed out a sigh in response, knowing nothing was going to get through to his brother until Y/N was back by his side safe. The three men did nothing for a few seconds but stare blankly around the room, desperate for any answer to appear out of thin air. Dean startled them all when he screamed out, “where is she!?”

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

When you woke you, the lingering smell of rain and dead bodies hit you like a freight train, and you decided to try to trigger your hunter senses before you opened your eyes and gave away your present status. You hadn’t hunted in over a year, promising Sam and Dean that you were more comfortable with research, when in reality you didn’t trust your own abilities anymore. You didn’t trust yourself with many things lately.

You started your investigation with your own body. You didn’t feel drugged or anything, just tired from the fall, and your back ached a little. Attempting to move your arms you realized they were chained above your head and you were on your knees, jeans soaking up the horrible smelling water beneath you. Wincing you decided to open your eyes, hoping that whoever this was wasn’t around at the present moment. You weren’t delusional enough to think that this could be anything other than Greg, but you hoped that perhaps some sort of monster followed you and the Winchesters to Bobby’s. But your hoping was in vain, as you slowly opened your eyes and came face to face with a larger and older version of the kid who ruined your life.

When he saw you open your eyes and look into his, he offered you his wolf grin, before you avoided his gaze quickly.

“Y/N.” His tone was even and you could tell he was still smiling. Though his voice had dropped an octave or so, it sent a chill through your body. You weren’t the most skilled hunter, but in your current predicament, even the newest hunters would be jumping into some kind of game plan and playing off of their adrenaline and anger. You felt yourself shrinking into yourself, hoping you could simply disappear. As always, Greg never sensed any discomfort from you, and continued talking like nothing was wrong.

“It’s so good to see you!” He didn’t touch you, but the way he was coming toward you had you cowering back into the corner as far away from him as the chains would allow.

He clicked his tongue at your movement, “Ah. I see.” You glanced up at him as he spoke, following his movements. He knelt down in front of you, and you couldn’t lower your head any further to get away from him. “I’m not mad, Y/N.” He said simply, using a gentle tone, one that you recognized. Long ago you stopped falling for the gentleness knowing that what was to follow wasn’t going to be nice and gentle.

He stood suddenly making you jump, walking slowly around the room as he thought. “I know you did what you needed to do, and I’m not mad... I just wish you would have stuck around a bit for the real fun.” The wolf smile was back and you shuddered, imagining his bloody body rising before your eyes after you thought you had killed him.

He was turned toward you, and clicked his tongue again when you refused to look at him. Kneeling down he snaked a finger toward you, smiling when he reached your chin and was able to tilt your head back so that you were forced to look into his eyes.

“It’s okay, hunny...” You shuddered when he used the nickname he used to use for you, often referring to you as his little ‘hunny-bear.’ The foster agency and your foster parents thought it was so cute.

“We have plenty of time for you to make it up to me.”

Quickly the single finger under your chin, became his entire hand gripping the back of your neck, and he pulled your forward, the chains attached to your arms clinking behind you. He held you steady in front of him, while he roughly pushed his lips to yours. You kept your face stoic, refusing to react to his assault of your lips, and you felt a growl building deep in his chest. When your lips didn’t react against his, he pressed his hand against your cheek, pressing down on the sensitive skin and forcing your mouth to open. He took your bottom lip between his teeth biting hard enough to draw blood. You tasted the salt on your tongue, wincing as the blood seeped into your mouth.

Greg pulled back, releasing your face, his wolf smile revealing dark crimson teeth, your own blood staining his lips. He stood to his full height and raked his eyes up and down your body.

“Oh hunny-bear, you have definitely filled out. Damn!” You flinched at the volume of his words, but he ignored you. “You turned into quite a looker.” He tsked his tongue continuing to look you up and down. “But why do you hide behind all of these baggy clothes!?” He suddenly sounded angry, and you realized you were wearing one of Dean’s flannels, sleeves rolled up to the elbows, and buttoned all the way to the top.

“That definitely won’t do.” He spit out, walking toward you again, and beginning to undo the buttons, slowly, as if he were trying to ‘set the mood.’ As each button brought him closer to your chest and stomach, you felt your abs clenching, feeling like you might vomit on him at any moment.

Once he finished the buttons, you heard him wolf-whistle realizing you were only wearing a plain black bralette underneath the heavy material, the lace and fabric not leaving much to the imagination. You felt tears sting your eyes, imagining happier times on your way to South Dakota when you simply threw on one of Dean’s flannels to be more comfortable on the drive, while the boys were inside at the gas station. The fabric was soft and long and smelled like Dean, so you didn’t bother putting anything under it. You never imagined you’d be in this situation.

Greg continued to look you up and down and you let the tears fall freely. Someone please save me!

----------

The Winchesters and Bobby had been sitting at their individual laptops looking for any clues of where you might be. They figured the shifter was probably moving on foot, so he couldn’t have gone too far in the time that Y/N went outside and they tore apart the salvage yard looking for you. Dean jumped into the Impala after the security footage turned out to be a bust, and drove damn near across South Dakota looking for any sign of you.

Sam sighed loudly, taking a huge drink from the crappy gas station coffee, Dean grabbed before heading back to the house, knowing they needed be alert.

“Dean, I think it’s time you called Cas...” Dean nodded once. It had been almost 6 hours since you were taken and every minute that passed had Dean screaming on the inside, desperate to find you.

Taking a deep breath, he put his hands together in prayer, muttering for Castiel, angel of the Lord, to get his feathery ass down here. That they needed him. Throwing in a ‘please’ for good measure.

Dean opened his eyes when he heard the rustling that could only be the blue-eyed, trenchcoat clad Angel.

“Hello, Dean.”

When We Were Young Tag List: @vicmc624 @woundedxsmile @akshi8278

Read part VIII here

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sirtadcooper · 3 years

Text

Javier Peña and the Brown-Nosed Bear

Fandom: Narcos Category: Gen, Humour, Crack Relationships: Javier Peña & Steve Murphy Characters: Javier Peña, Steve Murphy Word Count: 1,900+ For: @djarsdin and @javierian.

Warnings: Swearing, drug mentions, crack (as in a silly idea) treated far too seriously, period inaccuracies, food, McDonald’s.

Summary: Javier Peña is not having a good day so Steve Murphy brings him a McDonald’s Happy Meal to cheer him up.

Notes: This makes no sense. The Happy Meal menu is from the UK in 2021, the toys are from 2018 and the boys are in the 1980s. But just go with it, for me, pretty please?

This, all of this, was inspired by @djarsdin’s tag “someone get this man a happy meal” under this already dryly funny post by @javierian. This is for both of you. :)

Any Spanish is from Google Translate so please forgive me if it’s wrong.

(One-shot.)

Javier Peña and the Brown-Nosed Bear

Javier is staring blankly down at a page, cigarette hanging loosely from one hand as he cups his chin with the other. The typewritten words are blurring and he’s read the same paragraph countless times now, in limbo, unable to get any further.

A small red box, having evidently just been thrown in his direction, lands with a soft thud right under his nose. Javi jerks back with a start, blurry black and white suddenly replaced with bright red and… yellow? Javi blinks, his tired eyes finally focus — it’s a McDonald’s Happy Meal.

“There,” says Steve, “now cheer the fuck up.”

He sets two soda cups down safely on the desk and throws himself down onto his chair with enough force to send it rolling backwards a few feet. Identical Happy Meal box cradled lovingly on his lap, he rolls the chair forwards with his feet until he’s close enough to his desk again to put his boots up on it.

Looking over, Steve nods meaningfully at Javi’s paperwork.

Javi follows his gaze. “Shit.”

Javi’s half cigarette has been dropping flakes of ash onto his page. He swipes the tiny flakes away with the side of his hand — when only faint grey stains remain on the crisp white paper, he rests the still lit cigarette on the rim of the ashtray and leaves it sitting there, hazy wisps of smoke rising into the air.

“You look like shit,” Steve comments needlessly around a huge bite of a chicken burger.

Javi grimaces, rubbing at his tired eyes. He feels like shit, he doesn’t need to be told, thank you, he wants to say. Instead, he says aloud, “How’d things go with your C.I.?”

Chewing noisily, Steve shrugs. “No shop talk over dinner. I’ll tell you later. Eat up.”

With a pointed look, Javi sets the paperwork aside. Perhaps he will try to finish it again later, perhaps tomorrow, or even better still it may find itself in Steve’s annoyingly sparse inbox.

Opening the red and yellow box, Javi finds a bag of fries and a box of chicken nuggets. He hadn’t realised how hungry he was — as soon as the scent of fried fast food hits his nostrils his mouth starts to water. He glances at the clock — well after four in the afternoon. Last time he had checked it was just before one.

“Oh — almost forgot.” Steve plunges his hand into his jacket pocket. First he places a tiny tub of ketchup on Javi’s side of their desk, then a wad of napkins an inch thick.

“Your kid joining us?” Javi asks, meaning the excessive collection of napkins, but concentrating on pulling the lid off the ketchup dip.

Steve, halfway through his chicken burger already, adopts an enigmatic expression. “I’ve learned to be prepared.”

Javi is absolutely ravenous — the chicken nuggets and fries after almost a day’s unintended fasting are heavenly.

They both eat in companionable silence until—

Crunch!

Javi looks up from his food, takes a moment to register what’s in front of his eyes. “What the fuck is that?”

“It’s a carrot stick.”

“What’s it doing in a kid’s meal?” Javi asks, and then, more to himself, “Why am I eating a kid’s meal?”

“One — it’s healthy. Connie and I are watching what we eat right now and trying to keep in shape.” Javi can think of other ways two married people could keep in shape, but hasn’t the chance to voice his opinion as Steve carries on, “Two — shut up, it’s tasty, ain’t it? And three — I thought it might cheer you up, you’ve been a real downer today.” He doesn’t use a finger to emphasise each point, rather a wiggle of a carrot stick with the end bitten off. Javi decides instantly that he doesn’t like that.

“I’m touched,” he says dryly, dipping a fry in his sauce. He really is touched by the kind thought from his partner, but the kind thought is wrapped in so many layers of hillbilly bullshit that it’s hard to find the words to express that. He leaves his gratitude unsaid, veers the conversation away. “How did you order all this, anyways? Your Spanish isn’t that good.”

Steve appears offended, which Javi knows to mean that he isn’t offended at all. “Hey, I know the words for ‘drug dealer’ and ‘cocaine’ and ‘gun’.”

Javi peers into his red and yellow box — only a plastic bag with something black inside remains. “I don’t see any cocaine in here,” Javi mutters under his breath, deliberately loud enough to be heard.

“These carrot sticks are better than coke, believe me,” Steve says, shoving another piece of carrot into his mouth with a triumphant grin as if that proved it.

Javi shakes his head, sips on his soda. “Lying bastard.”

Steve’s expression gives nothing away.

“I just pointed at what I wanted. Took me a few attempts but I got there in the end. How do you say carrot sticks in Spanish? Just, you know, for future reference.”

“Palo de mierda,” Javi tells him with a straight face, without hesitation.

“What?”

“Palo de mierda,” Javi says again, unrepentant — he holds in a breath, hoping that Steve doesn’t catch on. He needn’t have worried.

Steve repeats it a few times, committing the phrase to memory. Javi stuffs a whole chicken nugget in his mouth before he can laugh.

They lapse into silence again — or as silent as it can be when one of them is crunching on raw carrots.

Chicken burger and carrot sticks finished, Steve wipes mayo off of his moustache with a napkin. A few minutes later when Javi reaches for a napkin from the pile as well, Steve looks very pleased with himself.

Javi starts tidying up, collecting the leftover rubbish from his desk and putting it inside his red box. Only his soda remains to be finished.

“Nice,” Steve says and Javi looks up — he’s got a little stuffed penguin toy in a plastic bag. “My little girl’s gonna love this.”

Javi reaches into his box and pulls out a bag too — it’s a black thing with a brown nose and tummy, some kind of stuffed animal he doesn’t recognise. He turns it over — there’s a card inside.

SLOTH BEAR, it reads.

“Here you go,” Javi says, lifting himself out of his chair to reach across their desk made out of two desks. He holds out the sloth bear in its plastic bag for Steve to take — but Steve doesn’t make a move, just stares at Javi like he’s sprouted an extra head that’s just told him the sky isn’t blue. Catching his look, Javi asks, “What? It’s for your kid.”

“No, no, man, that’s yours,” Steve says, shaking his head along with every ‘no’.

Javi doesn't retreat, just shakes his outstretched hand as if to tempt him — the little bear in the bag jumps up and down and the plastic crinkles noisily with the movement. (Javi hasn’t thought of the Serpent tempting Eve in the Garden of Eden for a long time.)

After a few moments of them staring stubbornly at each other, bear in a bag suspended between them, Javi falls back into his chair with a huff. He looks down at the bear in his hands. “What am I going to do with this?”

Steve rolls his eyes and lifts up his hand, fingers wiggling to beckon Javi — or the bear — to him.

He gets the bear — it flies across the desk and slaps him on the cheek with some force, bouncing off of him and to the ground. Steve bends over in his chair and it rolls back slightly as he strains to reach the bear where it has landed. He straightens, the bear clenched securely in his fist, and fixes Javi with an outraged look. “What the hell?”

Javi takes a drag of his half-finished cigarette, blows out the smoke. “It’s a tiny stuffed animal, Steve, it can’t feel a thing.”

“He’s got a brown nose.”

“He?” Javi mutters to himself, but is talked over.

“He’s got a brown nose, d’you know what that means?” Steve points at the bear’s pale brown muzzle, just in case Javi hasn’t noticed — he has noticed, he just doesn’t see why the hell he should care.

Steve’s expecting an answer — Javi rolls his eyes, feebly attempts, “He — it — has been using a sun bed wrong?”

“No, it means he’s your mascot,” Steve declares with childlike glee.

Javi blinks in the face of Steve’s unaccountable delight. “You’re losing it, Murphy.”

“He is. Think about it — how much brown-nosing do you and me have to do on a weekly basis? It’s a fuckton. I can handle it fine because I am calm and collected and an excellent people person — but you? You look like you’re constipated the whole time — quit flipping me the bird, man, I’m serious here — and the big cheeses know it, Javi, they’ll start taking a real dislike to you. But this bear is an expert, look at him, it’s all over his face. You take inspiration from him and he’ll show you how to brown-nose like the best of them.”

Steve holds out the bear in the bag for Javi to take. The three of them stare at each other — Steve with a look of ridiculous seriousness, Javi with straight-up disbelief, and the bear with the blank expression of the fucking inanimate.

“Kiss my ass,” Javi says, and in one swift and graceful movement he’s out of his chair and heading for the restroom. His knees protest after sitting for most of the day but he’s not fucking stopping. He has to get away from this maniac. “I’m going for a piss,” he throws over his shoulder as he disappears into the corridor.

When he returns several minutes later Steve is gone — but the brown-nosed bear is unwrapped from its plastic bag and nestled in between his outbox and his pen pot.

Javi sighs, but the bear stays.

TWO DAYS LATER

“Ambassador Noonan wants to see us about my C.I.,” Steve tells Javi, almost apologetic, as he puts the phone back on the hook.

“Both of us? Great,” Javi says, the final word sounding chipper but dripping with sarcasm.

They both head for their desks, collecting I.D. badges from drawers and putting their coats on. Steve fiddles with his hair — which makes very little difference, Javi thinks — and picks up his car keys. “I’ll drive,” he says, and goes on ahead.

The brown-nosed bear catches Javi’s eye as he turns to leave. He pauses despite himself, mutters, “Fuck it.”

He puts the bear in his pocket and follows Steve out of the building.

In the meeting, every time Noonan says something that will needlessly halt their progress in catching Escobar, Javi squeezes the bear hidden in his pocket and tries to look less ‘constipated’, as Steve succinctly put it.

Steve’s C.I. will get them a small step closer to Escobar but a small step is better than none at all. Noonan is pleased, grants them some extra funds and manpower to follow the C.I.’s lead. In all, the meeting goes much better than usual — they leave with more than they arrived with.

Javi and Steve are descending the stairs to the underground parking lot together when Javi says, “Palo de zanahoria.”

“Huh? What’s that?”

“Palo de zanahoria. Carrot sticks. In Spanish.”

#narcos #javier peña #javier pena #steve murphy #narcos netflix #mcdonalds #djarsdin #userjoanne #javierian #*mine #*fanfic #javierian we have never interacted i don't think but please accept this crackfic for you <3 #i'll hopefully post this to my ao3 too

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tundrainafrica · 4 years

Text

Title: Sugar Rush

Summary:

Marley brings the celebration of Halloween to Paradis. Hange and Levi go trick or treating with their child for the first time and start to realize how much the world has changed since the war.

A Halloween piece for the Levihan spookfest, one year late. (I hope you’re still accepting them.)

Written for @levihanweek. to cap off Levihan Angstober. Happy Halloween everyone!

Link to cross-postings: AO3

Notes: For people who read "Rough day," this domestic fluff piece is set in the same universe. I just wanted to contribute a Halloween piece for the Levihan Spookfest. I am one year late though.

"Happy Halloween!" Hange chimed as she entered the kitchen and plopped her already dolled up kid down on the table next to her.

"So what are the tacky decorations and costumes for?"

Hange was wearing a full body suit of the colossal titan while Luke, their five year old child was wearing a mini armored titan costume. A part of Levi wondered how people of Paradis had so easily forgotten the attack of Shiganshina that titan costumes existed and were actually being sold. He had seen a few people in titan suits on the way to the market just that morning.

"These are all to scare away the spirits!" Hange explained.

"Of dead people?"

"Of dead people."

"It would be nice to be visited by some ghosts. Wouldn't you want to see Erwin or maybe even Moblit again?" Levi had seen enough death in his life that the holiday which Marley introduced to them which was supposed to them did not seem as scary as the people were painting it out to be. The idea of the dead people visiting felt almost desirable for that hardened soldier one who'd seen too many people die.

"But daddy, ghosts are scary! They can kill you!" Luke said as he walked towards Levi.

What are they teaching this kid in school? "What if those ghosts were daddy's old friends? Do you think they’ll kill you?" Levi bent down to face his son only to see the boy looking utterly confused.

Levi only had to look back at how they raised him to understand why. Despite his parents background, the boy was raised with what they have considered too peaceful an upbringing. The closest thing to a blood bath he had seen was when Hange so enthusiastically pulled out his baby tooth just a few months ago. Levi was not sure though if the kid had been scared of the blood or the strong reaction of his mother.

"Levi, get dressed. It'll be our first trick or treat."

"I'm ready already." Levi walked to the balcony room where he had let his old survey corps cloak hang out to dry after thoroughly washing it.

"You're wearing that?" Hange asked, raising one eyebrow in disappointment. "Isn't that a bit too lazy?"

"Let me try out this new festival of yours and if it's any fun maybe I'll try harder next time."

Levi and Hange both lived towards the center of Paradis since Hange was closely working with the government to help the island catch up to its peers. They had agreed to use the holiday as an excuse to see parts of the new Paradis they had not seen in a while, having rented a space in the outskirts for a few days. Hange had seen her fair share since she was back and forth from the ports and the center due to work. Levi on the other hand barely visited the outer cities, having spent his time keeping the household running and raising Luke while Hange worked full-time.

They made the thirty minute walk to the outskirts where Hange concluded was the start to the most time efficient route with the highest possible yield of candy, that looped all the way back to their rented bungalow.

It turned out the strategy of the former commander had been almost foolproof. One kilometer in and Luke's bag was almost half full.

"Hey man, your survey corps costume looks pretty good!"

Levi looked to the voice behind him to see a teenage boy in a titan costume.

"Did you make it yourself?" The teenage boy continued.

Levi looked to Hange as if to ask "Who made our costume?" In fact, Levi had just wanted to walk on, ignoring the teenage boy. It had been less than a decade since the end of the war. With the quick advancement of technology, it felt like more of a century ago to Levi. That instance only reminded him what people saw as a soldier uniform's long ago has been reduced to a costume prop.

"I did actually. What do you think?" Hange asked

It was a blatant lie.Technically though she did design the new uniform when the war against Marley started. Levi thought to himself.

"Well you got the colors of the wings of freedom wrong. The blue wing is on the right side not the left."

Sugar Rush

"Hey Hange, you should monitor how they make the survey corps costume. This is slightly pissing me off," Levi muttered as they started to get to the denser parts of town.

"Well, with a port to run and research to do, I don't really have time to monitor holiday costume designs."

Although there were many people in titan costumes, there were also a fair number of people donning the survey corps cloak, a few in garrison uniform, and fewer in the military police. Although the survey corps had a rocky start, towards the end of the war against Marley, they were painted to be the main hero, their stories told in bars, restaurants, wherever people would listen. It was only natural that clothing manufacturers got on wind with the popularity.

But they got it all wrong. Levi thought. He turned to Hange to see that she was just slightly amused at it.

As they walked on, they passed by a park where a group of kids in survey corps cloaks were playing.

"I'm Levi! Humanity's strongest soldier!" One kid said as he climbed on top of a rock.

Levi heard Hange chuckling behind her as he stopped to watch the play between the five kids unfold.

"No I wanna be Levi!" The smaller kid protested as he tried to pull the larger kid down from the rock.

"You can't be Levi! Levi is big and strong! Mommy and Daddy said so!"

Levi did not know who mommy and daddy were but he found himself interested enough to approach the group of kids. At first, they looked almost terrified to see an adult stranger approach. Levi made an effort to smile though which worked enough at least for them to stay put.

"Levi can be as tall or short as you want him to be." Levi patted the small kid's head then looked at all the kids. "Kids, make sure to take turns."

"It's okay! I'm Captain Erwin!"

"I'm Captain Hange!"

"I'm Captain Mike!"

It's Mee-keh not Maik. "That's good. Don't play too rough." Levi found himself struggling to keep the friendly smile. He walked away from them, quickening his pace with every step, trying to stop the urge to play cop and point out the inaccuracies in their casual game of soldier.

Erwin and Mike probably would not have minded those inaccuracies but something inside Levi protested the omission on his end.

"You're not going to correct them?" Hange said as he walked back at her.

"Erwin and Mike probably wouldn't have cared. Do you mind?"

"No. Not really. But humanity's strongest being big and tall..." Hange widened her eye in emphasis as she gave him a onceover from head to toe.

“Humanity's strongest might even like that.”

"Daddy did you meet captain Levi? Was he really big and tall?" Luke pulled on Levi's cloak as he asked.

"He can be as big and tall as you want him to be Luke."

Sugar Rush

"Tell me more about Captain Levi! Was he big? Tall? Was it weird that you were also Levi?"

Hange and Levi had allowed their son to eat a few candies that night. Levi was sure he had at least rationed it well to keep the child happy but prevent a sugar rush.

Maybe it was when he went to take off his cloak, wash it and leave it out to dry did Hange sneak him a few more candies in. As he looked inside the bag to see everything had been opened and half eaten, he was sure that that could have been the only explanation.

As Levi snuck a glance at Hange, he could tell she was regretting it. I told you a while ago a handful is enough.

“Where did you learn so much about this captain Levi figure?” Levi asked, humoring the young boy.

“The teacher tells stories about him. He was part of the Ackerman clan and he could destroy one hundred titans in one swoop.” Luke excitedly yet awkwardly swung his imaginary sword in the air and Levi could not help but note that he would have never swung his blades in that manner. “You and mommy were both soldiers right? Did you get to meet him?”

“A few times.”

“I told my friends in school that my parents were retired soldiers and they said that the soldiers were playing and eating inside the capital while the survey corps actually went outside and fought the enemy. I think you and mommy were different. Mommy would have done research right? While you were fighting the bad people in the walls right?”

“Maybe I was.” Levi turned to Hange for help. The latter was too busy rummaging through her kid’s bag for candy. Luke did not seem to notice or probably did not care, his eyes were fixed on his father and Levi wondered how long the kid had been keeping it in.

“How was Captain Levi?”

“He was a friendly guy.” Levi answered. He heard Hange snort next to him.

“Did he ever save you from titans?”

“A few times.”

“Then you must know what happened to him? Even our teacher doesn’t know!”

Sugar Rush

It was almost midnight. Only thirty minutes ago did Luke’s sugar rush die down. Soon after though, the young boy had fallen asleep and like on most other nights, Levi and Hange were left alone together. They were going through the pile of uneaten candy of their son, having decided that they had to eat what was left since they had no place to store it without risking an ant infestation.

“Why didn’t you tell him?” Hange asked as she went back to the table. She had checked up on their son just a second ago, making sure she was asleep before she brought up the elephant in the room.

“Didn’t you hear the kid? If we told him where Captain Levi was, he was gonna tell all his friends. We can’t really trust a five year old kid to keep secrets just yet.”

“And you don’t want people to know where Captain Levi is,” Hange said matter of factly.

“I went for this type of life because I wanted peace.” Levi popped a half eaten chocolate in his mouth.

“Which explains why you wanted our kid to take up my name instead.”

“Ackerman never stuck. I’ve always been just Levi.”

Luke Zoe was the more conservative naming choice. Levi Ackerman had become a household name while the full name of the commander had been known only among those who did the research but her stories were not as blown up as that of the captain.

Oddly enough, their child had not picked up on both their first names being the same ones as those of the survey corps soldiers. Levi had attributed it to the fact that the boy spent most of his days with him while Hange was at work. The retired soldier had dedicated his time to other things like cleaning, housework, child rearing and tea mixing, having put his bloodier past behind him. The kid saw them as parents, not as the heroes he was hearing about in school.

I wanna meet a survey corps soldier! They sound so cool! You must know one! Bring me to one. I wanna thank them for their service! Ask them how they flew through the air. I wanna see how big and burly they are.

Or possibly, Luke already had expectations on what they looked like and Levi and Hange just did not fit the profile.

"Maybe we should buy him a mini survey corps cloak too. It feels weird that the survey corps played such a big part of our lives and we’re not even giving him that,” Hange suggested.

“And support shitty research. No way.” Levi rolled his eyes as he imagined the erroneous design of the wings of freedom insignia.

“As someone who has worked on research her whole life, I can sympathize.” Hange gave Levi a consoling smile. The cloak was last used more than fifteen years ago and the more recent designs had probably already overshadowed the one used back when the survey corps was still seen as inferior to the garrison and military police. “Hey, can you eat this gooey colorful one? It sticks to my teeth.”

“How much more do we have to eat?” Levi emptied the bag on the table. Luke had eaten half of every single candy in the bag

“Maybe your trick or treat route was just a little too strategic Hange.”

They did not sleep that night.

#levihan #levihanangstober #levi ackerman #hange zoe #levihan spookfest #levi x hange #domestic fluff #happy ending for levi #fanfic

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jpegjade · 4 years

Text

The Blind Date - Spencer

Request: I'd love one where the reader has dated around with no success (terrible tindr dates, disappointing connections through work, etc). Somehow her and Spence cross ways and go out. He treats her really well and looks at her like she's his world. Shes been dying to have a good man look at her like she's precious and melts at it 🥰

hey hi hello! im working though my requests lists faster than i thought lmao. i do have some ideas that i’ll work through but if you have an idea, my asks are still open.

Warnings: if you hate dad!spencer, then you will hate part of this. But this is fluffy tbh.

“Hey babe, look what I found!” You said, flipping through a stack of polaroids hidden away in another pointless stack of papers and other items.

It was time to clean out the attic since all those dusty boxes were really filling up the space. It had been your dream to build a cave up there just for yourself, away from both your husband and your three kids.

Spencer climbed up the stairs, squinting to see where you were as his eyes adjusted to the terrible lighting.

“What did you find? Aside from Asbestos and lung disease… Are you sure you want to build something in here? I can’t imagine it being comfortable considering the way the house is made. There’s nothing to cool you down in the summer months and who knows how winter will fare here.” Spencer looked deeply concerned.

“Spence, honey, would you come and look at this?” You held up the first ever picture you took of him, your first date written on the back of it in metallic sharpie with the words “I really like him…” in your handwriting.

“‘I really like him?’ What’s that supposed to mean?” Spencer asked, bending over to look over your shoulder at the photo. In the photo, Spencer was giving the most awkward smile, one hand in the air in a semi-wave motion. He looked like his mom asked him for a photo and he was just doing it to make her happy.

“I wrote this on our first date… I wasn’t even sure about going on the date before that night…”

**10 years ago**

“Just one date.” JJ said. “You don’t have to love him but I know you’ll like him.”

Your friend was insistent that she could set you up on the perfect blind date but you weren’t convinced. You went on so many different Bumble dates, had Tinder hook-ups, and even accepted John from marketing’s proposition to take you on a date last week. It ended in you faking food poisoning and having JJ pick you up from the restaurant because you didn’t have the heart to tell him that you didn’t want to hear about his mom’s weird growth that she needed to get checked out. He was supposed to be showing you pictures when you got back to the table but you knew that was going to definitely give you food poisoning.

“JJ, if this goes south, I’m just going to swear off dating for a while.” You said, agreeing over the phone.

“Great. He’ll pick you up at 5 pm for dinner and a horror movie tonight.” JJ said, hanging up before you could protest.

A horror movie for a first date? What did she expect from you? You knew this wasn’t going to go well but you promised her that you would try.

He was 15 minutes late. He kept you waiting for 15 minutes and for what? He better have a good explanation. In a huff, you swung your front door open to see if his car was even outside and you came face to face with a messy haired brunette with his arm raised to knock.

“Hi.” He said, arm still frozen in the air. “I’m Dr. Spencer Reid.”

“What kind of medical doctor shows up late to a first date?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Well, you see, I’m not that kind of doctor but that’s a common assumption. I have three Ph.Ds so you can say I’m more of a specialist in scholarly knowledge and I get to put it into practice with my job as a profiler at the FBI, which is how I got here. Not being in the FBI, per say, but being in the FBI with JJ. As to why I’m late, I was given information that I blindly followed from this other agent, Derek Morgan, which I probably should not have followed.”

You noticed that Dr. Spencer Reid hadn’t taken a single breath until now.

“Was that advice to piss me off before you even met me, Doctor not a doctor?” You said, still annoyed.

You knew JJ had talked about Spencer before when you guys met for breakfast or girls’ night out. You didn’t think about what he looked like until now, though. He was pretty but not so pretty that he knew it. It was more like an understated thing.

“He said that pissing you off in the beginning would give me a better chance of being able to woo you with my charm and charisma, to quote him exactly. I now realize the flaw in my thinking was that he would be correct and misunderstanding that he was kidding because JJ didn’t tell me you would be so beautiful and while I have a genius IQ, I’ve been told that I lack the social skills needed to accurately assess a situation where I have a beautiful woman staring at me like you want to punch me but also intrigued at the sight of me.” Spencer stopped and realized he still had his arm in the air and dropped it by his side.

You stared at him quietly. You weren’t sure what to make of him but you did know that you were getting hungry. Your stomach growled loudly.

“You’re a talker.” You said. “I appreciate that.”

You turned to lock up the front door before dropping your keys in your bag. Walking to the car, he opened the door for you before you could put your arm out. You looked over at him, stunned. Other guys you “dated” didn’t do anything like that. Yeah, it was a simple thing but it was something that mattered at least a little bit to you.

“Wait.” You said, pulling a small Polaroid camera out of your bag. “Smile for the camera.”

Spencer smiled, showing all of his teeth, and raised his hand in a wave. You hoped to god that wasn’t his real smile as you snapped the picture. The polaroid came out nicely, his face well lit, and you noticed that in the light, his purple shirt looked nice with the black skinny tie and black pants.

“I like him” You wrote on the back of the polaroid in metallic marker before getting in the car.

The rest of the night was a breeze. Dinner was filled with intelligent conversation and responses beyond what any of your Tinder “Dates” could comprehend. He ordered the nicest wine on the menu and you nearly choked on your water. So he had money, check. That meant he wasn’t attempting to live off his friends’ couches like the last guy you went on a date with. He let you order whatever you wanted and didn’t care about how much or how little you ate. He didn’t make snide comments about how you should “slow down on the wine.” He didn’t want to make you run out of the building. He made you want more. Of him, of the night, of him. Oh and him.

The movie was filled with jumpscares and things that were generally uncomfortable to watch but Spencer remained unphased. In fact, he nervously slipped his hand into yours about 20 minutes into the movie and you stayed like that the whole time. When you got particularly scared, he would talk to you in your ear and tell you about the inaccuracies of what was happening, straightening out the facts. As if any of the movie was logical, he kept talking to you like everything could make sense, and it calmed you down. You even found yourself leaning into him by the end of the night.

When he took you home, that was a bittersweet ending to something you hoped would blossom.

“Do you...” You started.

“Can I...” He said at the same time.

Mumbling a chorus of “you first,” you paused long enough for him to say it.

“I enjoyed spending time with you tonight. When JJ said it was a blind date with her friend, I didn’t think I would enjoy it as much as I did. I don’t have the best luck with people so I thought I might mess this up too. I can only hope you had as much fun as I had...” He trailed off.

“I did.” You said a little too quickly. “I mean... I enjoyed your company tonight.”

There was a weird pause and you waited for him to do it but he kept staring at you. You had to do it, you decided. So you did. You kissed him. And at first he was tentative but then he really got into it.

“Okay, wow.” You said, finally breaking away. “Do you want to come in? I don’t really want this to end...” You said.

“Yes.”

******

Spencer was sitting on the floor next to you as you recounted your thoughts on that night to him. Sure, he remembered it but he didn’t remember it like you remembered it and that was what kept him intrigued.

“Y/n,” Spencer said, looking over at you. “I was 15 minutes late because I was standing at the door practicing my opening line.”

You looked back at him and you knew the look he was giving you, the one he had given you every time you saw him since that first night. He was staring at you like you were the only thing that mattered.

“What had you planned to say?” You asked, completely curious.

“Baby, are you on fire? Because you’ve got me all hot.” He said, looking down at his hand, which you suddenly noticed was holding yours. You were so caught up in telling the story that you didn’t realize what was happening around you.

You burst out laughing. “Spencer, that’s the worst thing I’ve ever heard you say.”

He smiled and looked up at you through his glasses. When your laughter finally died down, you were able to concentrate on him again. He was staring at you in that weird way again. Ever since your first date, he always gave you that look.

“What?” You said, still smiling.

“Nothing in particular.” He said, looking over at the staircase. Your 7-year-old was climbing up the stairs.

“Mommy? Daddy? What’s going on? Did daddy tell a funny joke?” She asked, walking over to sit in her father’s lap.

You looked over at them as she got comfortable. He kissed the top of her head and went back to staring at you.

“Yes but it’s a joke you won’t get until you’re much older. And one you won’t hear until you’re much older, if ever.” You said poking her belly.

“Hey, why don’t we go fix lunch?” Spencer said, putting your daughter back on her feet and standing up.

“That sounds good.” You said, thinking about how hungry you were.

Standing up, Spencer stopped you for a second while your daughter climbed down.

“Can we come back up here once the kids are asleep and go through more of those photos? I remember each one you’ve taken of me but I want to know why. You never explain, even now.” He pulled you into a tight hug.

“Sure. I have enough stories to fill hours of dates.”

“You know I loved you since that first photo, right?” He said, kissing your cheek.

“Really? You’ll have to tell me about your version of some of the dates one day.”

_____________

Okay we had a flashback sequence for this one. i tried to keep it simple so there wasn’t a lot of flashing back and forth. I wanted to make that as long as possible bc idk if anyone wants more, honestly.

ANYWAY HELLO im so sorry for my longass one-shots

Tags:

@winchestertardis

@ancailinaerach

#spencer reid x reader #spencer x reader #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fluff

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dorizardthewizard · 4 years

Text

So I watched the Eurovision movie

Uh, I have a lot of thoughts because this is the closest we’re gonna get to the real thing this year ;^; First, the positives!

What they got right:

Overall, I like that it wasn’t really taking the piss out of the competition – whether you agree or not with how it was portrayed, the creators do have a lot of love for the show and that is reflected in how much it means to the characters. I think it was fitting to start with the kids watching and being inspired by ABBA’s win (I’m always up for showing people where the group’s fame started), and making it their life goal to perform in the contest. Just like Lars and Sigrit, many musicians in Europe grow up with Eurovision being an annual tradition and it’s their big dream to one day perform on that international stage, so yeah I think it decently showed how important ESC is here.

They got the overall vibe right too – most of the songs really felt like Eurovision songs (maybe a little dated but still), from the Viking-Europop opener to the Lordi-aesthetic one to whatever the hell Russia was doing. I don’t think Greece’s song was something they’d ever send though; it fits the character but not what the country typically sends. Then again, Estonia have sent an opera song in Italian and Romania sent yodel rap so actually, I take back that statement. They were missing a Balkan ballad though! Staging was on point – I think it was filmed at the Tel Aviv stage so that’s obviously a factor, but big angel wings and hamster wheels also bring a lot of familiarity :P No pianos being set on fire though, which, in a movie with so many on-stage disasters, is honestly surprising.

Of course there’s also the past contestant cameos, for that I’ll say one thing – needs more Verka. Maybe some contestants from earlier years would have been nice too, at least we did hear Céline Dion’s song in the song-along. Would also have been nice if the whole mashup was Eurovision songs, instead of throwing in some other ones just to make it more recognizable for non-Eurofans. Otherwise, the mashup was really seamless and sounded good.

Another thing the movie got right was European’s attitudes to Americans, not sure how I feel about it since the movie was made by Americans, but it’s self-aware and pretty funny :P There’s also the funny gag about countries not wanting to host because of how expensive it is, not sure why a guy working for the national broadcaster would care about that but looking at Iceland’s population size, I wouldn’t be surprised if he was also an economist for the government or something.

What they got wrong:

Of course, there were some things they didn’t quite get right. First of all, did the UK win for it to be hosted in Scotland??? Unless Australia won, or some other country that didn’t want to host or something. They actually made a joke about UK getting zero points, but they said it’s because no one likes us, when in reality we just send the blandest songs :/

There were also a whole lot of technical inaccuracies like Sweden breaking the rule on number of people allowed on stage, big five countries taking part in the semi-final (come on, how can you not get that right? Maybe they were afraid Americans wouldn’t recognise half the flags? :P), the contestants were just sitting by themselves in some room like it’s The Voice or something, their delegations nowhere to be seen, and then there’s the total lack of security or planning around the competition, with Lars just running around doing whatever. The countries presenting their votes in the semi-final stood out as well, but since we didn’t get to see the final I can brush over it, just so we experience the voting somewhere in the movie. Wonder why they didn’t use past contestants for the points announcements? They also had the French one speaking in English but you know what, they remembered to make sure he was standing in front of the Eiffel Tower so I’ll let them off :P

One thing that did bother me was how hard the movie tried to make us think the Icelandic song was a failure, except the song wasn’t even bad so they had to resort to all the incidents on stage. They even had that complete silence after the hamster wheel incident, and there is NO WAY that would ever happen – even the null points songs get cheers! In fact, people would cheer harder, and I don’t think Graham Norton, or anyone for that matter, would be that surprised that people remembered the song and actually gave it points (oh yeah, great to see him in this!).

Okay, some of those inaccuracies were nitpicks, but they’re just fun to point out. I don’t think they quite nailed the portrayal though, but more on that later.

The movie itself:

Judging the rest of the film, the humour really didn’t do it for me- it was just kind of jarring that one half of the movie felt like your usual light-hearted music contest film that was fairly rooted in reality, then the next there’s a dismembered ghost of Demi Lovato and a guy getting stabbed by Elves??? I know it’s classic Will Ferrel random comedy but honestly, those parts could have been cut out of the movie just fine, it’s like half an hour too long anyway and you can tell by the way the humour drags. It can basically be summarised by the ending scene where Lars is yelling at the Americans and then just keeps going, and I know that’s the joke in that scene but they do this throughout the whole movie – something will happen and the characters will keep reacting back and forth and it’s honestly exhausting. That might just be me though, maybe I’d prefer more witty and self-aware humour in a Eurovision movie but I guess non-fans wouldn’t get half the jokes so they went for over-the-top ridiculousness ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

As for the characters, Sigrit was great; she’s a good mix between cute and weird. Lars is… annoying tbh, maybe I just don’t care for Will Ferrel's character type but when Alexander asks Lars what he can possibly offer Sigrit I was like “yeah Lars, what CAN you offer?”. Their relationship was cute though and his arc about caring too much about winning was decent, it does kind of resonate with Eurovision because yeah, lots of countries will revamp their songs to have English lyrics and the style is increasingly converging to Americanized radio-friendly pop music. I do wish they’d focused more on this conflict, rather than bringing in a love square (?) with Alexander and Mita.

Speaking of Alexander, I actually liked how they portrayed the Russian character; he wasn’t a villain, he was fun to watch and was genuinely happy to see Sigrit succeed. I did not expect them to go there with the whole “there are no gays in Russia” thing – I laughed but also actually felt for the guy, and his friendship with Mita was peak mlm/wlw solidarity, it was sweet.

The ending:

For me, this is where it goes American Hollywood style and kinda reminds me of Madonna’s speech about everyone being winners. Felt like I was watching Camp Rock for a second then (which is funny since Demi is in this movie) – all the other acts are fun songs but we’ll just change ours to a ballad so it must be more heartfelt and resonate with the audience, as if a good chunk of ESC songs aren’t ballads already!! To be fair, they do well in having it be a personal song about her hometown and adding in parts in Icelandic (although I’ve heard it’s so butchered you can’t understand what’s being said), it’s a sweet ode to one of the best parts of Eurovision – celebrating where you’re from and making your country proud.

Wish they’d focused more on that tbh, we really could have done without Lars speaking to the audience – that’s the more Hollywood moment for me and kind of reminds me of acts that try to connect with the audience like it’s a concert. Sorry but we don’t do that here :P Instead of the “music is feeling”-like message, it would have been nice if the movie was more directed towards celebrating why the contest is so big and important even decades after it began, and how it literally brings an entire continent together for one night. This would have been nice especially because of all the cynicism towards ESC and its dismissal as just a dumb, campy event with no quality music whatsoever.

Huh, I just remembered there are no live instruments at Eurovision so how everyone can hear the piano at the end is beyond me, also the instrumental kicks in despite the fact that that song has never been recorded in a studio, let alone able to be played out loud onstage. But I’ll just imagine that’s for us to see, the audience actually just heard her singing and nothing else. I don’t think it would have been that impressive, so Iceland probably won everyone’s hearts through memes instead :’D

Overall, I don’t think the movie was terribly offensive or anything, just some silly fun that missed out on the potential of better portraying the Eurovision spirit. I might eventually watch it again, but with skipping out half the comedy :P

#eurovision #esc #eurovision movie #the story of fire saga #feel free to share thoughts if you were crazy enough to read all this!#my posts

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auntynationalsblog · 4 years

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5 Netflix Films for the Week, set before the 21st c.

How’s quarantine going? Yeah, same here. But it’s Monday after all, and you still have over 150 hours to kill if you’re dealing with this quarantine via a week-by-week approach. I can help you kill around 8%, 12 of those hours. Here are five must-watch films set before the twenty-first century. Don’t watch them all at once, that’s lame.

No spoilers.

5. The Revenant (1823)

Main Cast: Leonardo DiCaprio and Tom Hardy

“Revenge is in the Creator's hands.”

Many of you will know of this film as the one which finally gave LDC his first Oscar, for Best Actor, at the 88th Academy Awards. Unfortunately, you would have stopped at that information and not bothered to watch the film. Released in 2015, the film is based on a novel of the same name. The definition of ‘Revenant’ is “a person who has returned, especially supposedly from the dead.” The story-line does not deviate from the title, as an American frontiersman named Hugh Glass is engulfed in a bear attack and is left for dead by his hunting crew. But he survives. And he’s fucking pissed. The novel is called The Revenant: A Novel of Revenge, and yeah, the film is pretty vengeful too. Interestingly, even though Hugh Glass was indeed a real person, and it is mostly believed that the film and novel are based on a story, there exist no writings from the man himself to verify the description of his story. His story was first published in a Philadelphia literary journal known as The Port Folio. Some say that it is no more than a legendary tale. Nevertheless, a brilliant film, don’t miss out.

4. Before Sunrise (1994)

Only Cast (LOL): Ethan Hawke and Julie Delpy

“If there's any kind of magic in this world…it must be in the attempt of understanding someone.”

If you’re a fan of love stories/romantic films, and if you haven’t come across the Before Trilogy, I don’t know what kind of love stories you watch. Why is this film unique? In technical terms, it’s minimalist. In simple words, there’s no real plot. There’s no action or drama or horror. These two just walk and talk. Then they talk some more while walking, and when they’ve nothing to talk about, they just walk quietly. So why watch the film? For starters, it’s very peaceful and relaxing, unlike The Revenant, which is fucking intense. Secondly, the conversations in the film constitute some of the best dialogue-exchanges in the history of cinema. Their characters are very carefully crafted, as their varying perspectives on living and loving bring out some deep AF points throughout the film. It is a slow film no doubt, but I promise you that the blandness is worth it, and the ending is too nice. Don’t get bored, give the film some time and thank me later.

3. Django Unchained (1858)

Main Cast: Jamie Foxx, Christoph Waltz, and Leonardo DiCaprio

“Sold! To the man with the exceptional beard and his unexceptional nigga!”

Django Unchained is Tarantino’s highest-grossing film ever, for good reason. Although it has been criticized for historical inaccuracies, violence, and unprecedented high use of the N-word, Tarantino delivered one of the most dramatic and entertaining films from the era of plantation slavery. While the image above portrays Foxx, a slave, and LDC, a rich plantation owner, the highlight of the film was the German dentist-turned-bounty hunter, Dr. King Schultz, played by Christoph Waltz. Waltz’s performance is impeccable, only matched by his portrayal of Standartenführer Hans Landa in Inglourious Basterds (also directed by Tarantino). While the film starts off with Dr. Schultz hunting for his bounties, it eventually goes on to become a rescue mission, where Django and Schultz look for the former’s estranged wife, Broomhilda von Shaft. TW; extreme cursing and racism. But the film is a work of art. In fact, Jamie Foxx has revealed that LDC was pretty uncomfortable on the set, as his character had to use extremely racial slurs. But boy, he pulled off that role brilliantly.

2. Zodiac (1969 - 1980s)

Main Cast: Jake Gyllenhaal, Mark Ruffalo, and Robert Downey Jr.

“I wanna report a double murder. If you go one mile east on Columbus Parkway, to a public park, you'll find kids in a brown car. They were shot with a 9mm Luger. I also killed those kids last year. Goodbye.”

What happens when Iron Man, Hulk and Mysterio gang-up against one of America’s most notorious serial-killers? For now, I can only tell you that it was a pretty uneven contest. Based on a true story, this film depicts the useless San Francisco Police Department’s hunt for the Zodiac Killer, led by Dave Toschi (Ruffalo), and aided by political cartoonist Robert Graysmith (Gyllenhaal) and crime reporter Paul Avery (Downey). In case you’re wondering if they’re fictional characters, they’re not. They became pretty famous while the Zodiac Killer was running havoc, and have multiple articles and Wikipedia pages dedicated to all three of them. The Zodiac Killer remains unidentified by the way, and the cases are still officially open. Why watch the film then? Because the mysteriousness of it will blow your mind. Note that the film is directed by David Fincher, the same guy who directed Seven, Fight Club, Gone Girl and Mindhunter, among many other murder mysteries and thrillers. Don’t be surprised if you spend the rest of the day investigating the case yourself, happens to the best of us.

Consolation Prize: The Irishman (1950s - 1970s)

Main (legendary) Cast: Robert De Niro, Al Pacino, and Joe Pesci

“I work hard for them when I ain't stealing from them.”

I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking how can a film with a cast of three actors who redefined cinema in the late twentieth century earn only a consolation prize on this list? The truth is, that such crime/mafia/gangster films, no matter how legendary the cast is, only appeal to a particular audience. A lot of film buffs who truly appreciate cinema and actors are simply not enticed by this genre, which is okay. Nevertheless, this film, which spans over 200 minutes, is one of Martin Scorsese’s best works, along with other mob movies like Goodfellas and The Departed. Based on a true story, it follows the adventures of ordinary truck driver-turned-assassin Frank ‘Irishman’ Sheeran (De Niro), who gets mixed up in some extraordinary business with mobster Russell Bufalino (Pesci), his Pennsylvania crime family and American labor union leader Jimmy Hoffa (Pacino). The punchline of the film is “I heard you paint houses” - a mob code implying: I heard you murder people for money, the paint being the symbol of the blood that splatters when bullets are riddled into the target. Typical Scorsese, mesmerizing direction. The punchline is also the name of the novel the film is based on, in case you love reading about organized crime.

1. Dallas Buyers Club (1985)

Main Cast: Matthew McConaughey, Jennifer Garner and Jared Leto

“Sometimes, I feel I'm fighting for a life that I just ain't got the time to live. I want it all to mean something.”

On the day of the 86th Academy Awards, Facebook and Twitter erupted in outrage. LDC had not been awarded the Oscar for Best Actor for his portrayal of Jordan Belfort in The Wolf of Wall Street, also known as The Film You Must Never Watch With Your Family. I merely asked every hot-tempered schmucks who posted that LDC had been snubbed, “Have you watched Dallas Buyers Club?” Either the answer was no, or the answer never came. The point being, Dallas Buyers Club is one of the best films ever made. Based on the true story of Ron Woodroof, a once homophobic, junkie cowboy diagnosed with AIDS, co-starring Jared Leto (who won best supporting actor) as Rayon, a fictional trans-woman with HIV, this film tells us an extraordinary tale of friendship, hope and empathy. When Ron discovers that the Federal Drug Administration has been systematically banning cheap drugs that can improve the condition of existing HIV-AIDS patients, he opens a ‘buyers club’, that enabled sick people to make drug purchases at lower prices. Things get more interesting with the role of Dr. Eve Saks, an AIDS doctor, who recognizes the villainous role of the state, but wants to remain within the ambit of the law. Ron’s character development might be the highlight of the film, as he transforms from a selfish, homophobic asshole to a dying man waging war against the American government, fighting for the healthcare of the underprivileged. Very few equally magnificent films have come out post Dallas Buyers Club. Don’t miss out.

So that’s it folks. Make good use of your quarantine by immersing yourself in good quality cinema. I’ll come up with some more suggestions on films and TV shows soon enough. Till then, Netflix and Don’t Chill.

#netflix

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heartofstanding · 4 years

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I got my grubby little hands on Maureen Peters’ novel Frost on the Rose and am a little bit more than half-way through it. For those who don’t know, Frost on the Rose is an exceedingly rare novel that has Isabelle de Valois in France, mourning Richard II’s deposition and murder and finding out more about his reign by finding Anne of Bohemia’s very secret diary (in an era where diaries aren’t a thing).

We start about Isabelle dreaming Richard visited her and waking up in tears and I am sad.

Isabeau is... not good. Pretty bullying and abusive to Isabelle (she pinches her so hard she draws blood) and we get the whole “she’s a greedy fat slut!” image.

Protect Isabeau of Bavaria 2k19 2k20

Catherine has a tiny cameo in which Isabelle finds her sleepwalking and informs us that though Isabeau whips them for it, Catherine and her older sister Michelle “piss the bed” still. If I had to read it, so do you.

Charles VI seems to be actually sympathetically drawn, though we don’t see much of him.

Anne’s secret diary SOMEHOW survived the burning of Sheen and made it into Isabelle’s things to come home with her to France. HOW.

Isabelle hates Anne because she “stole” all of Richard’s love and my face was just D:

The opening chapter has some pretty good gothic vibes, including Isabelle feeling like Anne’s ghost is following her. The opening line also gave me Rebecca vibes.

Anne was terrified to marry Richard, feeling that she’s plain, dull and shy and she’ll not be a match for his intellect and he, brave king though he was at the 1381 revolt, will be impatient with shyness. She is ultimately proven wrong but awwww Anne bb.

Of the royal uncles: Gloucester (the “most warlike”) is a dick from the get-go, York is sly and seems to do nothing but always provokes fight and Lancaster seems like the only decent one. The Duchesses of York and Gloucester are “worse than their husbands”

Protect Eleanor Bohun 2k20 campaign.

Richard continually calls Isabelle “Moppet” in private :\

ISABELLE, tiny child ISABELLE, is the one who tells Richard to have Gloucester murdered in secret.

OMG RICHARD IS A FASHION DESIGNER. He draws designs for Anne’s gowns (in the Bohemian style, instead of the English-style that Gloucester was bullying Anne into).

So somehow Anne and Richard weren’t allowed to consummate their marriage until they were of age and they don’t see much of each other.

Agnes Launcekrona is called Fedora in this and you bet I am imagining her as a hat.

The historical accuracy in this novel is WHACK.

So the Appellant Crisis is about Robert’s marriage drama - he wants to divorce Philippa (who we’re told is also having an affair and we’re about to see her be Awful to Isabelle so don’t feel sorry for her ok?!) so he can marry a fedora hat, Richard and Anne support them and they’re like “but how do we get this past the council?” and Anne’s like “I know! Send it with Burley!”. Burley is arrested before he can leave and sentenced to execution and when Anne pleads for him, she’s told she’s lucky not to have been charged with treason herself. Robert’s fate is not mentioned.

WUT

Richard does love Henry’s kids but Isabelle doesn’t like Hal as he’s “very solemn”. Why do Isabelle-centric novels always hurt me like this. Hal was not Team Henry, he was Team Richard!

Also fucking whack: Henry’s banishment. So basically, they’re at a joust and Henry turns up and is like, “yo, I want to fight Roger Mortimer!” and Richard’s like, “oh as a friendly joust?” and Henry’s all “NO ITS PERSONAL QUARREL TIME”. Mortimer’s just, “nope, I don’t want to fight him.”

So Mowbray turns up and is all, “I’ll fight you!” and he and Henry have a nasty brawl, Mowbray’s pulling Henry off his saddle etc, and Richard is like ENOUGH BOTH ARE YOU ARE EXILED NOW FUCK OFF.

Richard is also really close to Mortimer and ehhhh no he wasn’t!

There’s a lot of other inaccuracies too, like Mary de Bohun and Henry marrying after Richard and Anne, Arundel being said to have been executed without a trial and one typo where Henry is said to be Gloucester’s son.

There is no “no-homo” moment but mainly because Peters has avoided dealing with the idea that Robert and Richard were lovers completely. That said, we’ve seen very little of Anne’s POV and Robert was technically still in England last time he was mentioned.

#lisa reads frost on the rose #long post #historical fiction venting #this novel was hideously expensive so i hope my grubby little hands are only grubby metaphorically

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freyjawriter24 · 4 years

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Advent Omens: Warmth

My response to Day 22 of @drawlight‘s excellent advent prompt list. Yes, I know it’s February. But I’ve been being surprisingly productive recently, and wanted to channel some of that into cutesy stuff outside of my focus on Someone New, and this seemed a good, shorter way to do that, so here we are. I hope you enjoy (even if it is a little out of season... It’s still winter, though, and I’m only two months and a day late for this one! There are more coming that will be even later...).

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Crowley had never been a fan of the cold. Probably something to do with his being a snake or something, he figured, but whatever the reason, he hated it. Why on Earth he’d ended up mostly settling in a climate where it was never particularly warm, he couldn’t quite work out (ignore the angel-shaped reason, that can’t be it), but the winters were at least the reason he didn’t stay in New York more regularly – if it got cold in London, it was far, far worse across the pond.

The Bentley, it seemed, had acquired some of its demonic owner’s characteristics, one of which was very firmly hating the cold. The car flatly refused to move the first couple of times Crowley had attempted to drive anywhere when it was cold enough for frost to have accumulated on the windscreen, even when the demon exasperatedly pointed out that moving around would actually make the damn thing warmer. After that he simply miracled it to always feel the temperature of a warm spring day, which had the added bonus of meaning the windows never frosted up again.

Not that Crowley drove much when it was really cold, anyway. He preferred to hide away inside on days like that, curled up in a pile of blankets in his flat or the bookshop, a hot drink or a hot water bottle nearby.

Today, though, was an exception. Because he’d promised to take Aziraphale out, as a treat.

“Ugh, why did it have to be today?” he muttered as he started the Bentley. “I take it you think you’re funny,” he said in the vague direction of the sky, and then swore under his breath.

At least the drive itself would be warm. Not that that would make getting out of the car at the other end any easier, but still.

He rang Aziraphale from the kerb when he got to the bookshop. “Angel, I’m outside. Hurry up, or we’re going to be late.”

“Coming, my dear!”

The happiness in his voice was palpable, and Crowley groaned as he hung up. Why had he agreed to this again? What on Her green Earth had he been thinking? Even without the miserably cold weather, this was going to be an experience comparable to Hell.

The passenger door of the Bentley opened, and an angel appeared, wrapped up warm in a thick coat and matching tartan scarf and mittens. Crowley rolled his eyes behind his sunglasses, but couldn’t help feeling a little flutter of affection all the same.

“Ooh, it’s lovely and warm in here,” Aziraphale said brightly.

“Mmm,” Crowley said, pulling away as soon as the door was shut. “Bentley doesn’t like the cold.”

The angel nodded sympathetically, and settled himself into the warmth of the car as they drove off into the gathering dusk.

It took them far less time to get there than it should have done, of course, what with Crowley’s tendency to go double the legal speed limit on most smaller roads and attempt to push the needle past 100 on motorways, but the drive was still a small, peaceful haven of heat in an otherwise freezing and unfriendly world.

They listened to Beethoven on the way, which gradually morphed into Queen’s ‘A Winter’s Tale’, followed by ‘Body Language’, presumably because it was part of the ‘Hot Space’ album, and the Bentley thought that would be funny. Crowley had to try very hard not to look at Aziraphale during some of the lyrics, and tried not to wonder whether the angel’s pink cheeks were anything to do with the song or just the temperature.

He was inordinately grateful when they finally found themselves on a series of tight back roads and he had an excuse to turn the music off. “Should be around here somewhere. Keep an eye out for signs, they said there should be some.”

Iced-over puddles crunched under the Bentley’s wheels as they drove down one particularly narrow country lane, and then there they were. They’d made it.

“Oh good, looks like they haven’t started yet,” Aziraphale said happily, motioning to a group of humans who were milling about in a dark field together.

The angel hurried out of the car and over to someone who looked like they knew what was going on to sort out being let in. Crowley groaned, then sighed, then eventually clambered out of the warmth of the car and into the cold night air.

“Come on, my dear,” Aziraphale said, gesturing for the demon to join him. Crowley pulled his jacket tighter round himself, pushed his hands into his pockets, and sloped over in a striking impression of a stroppy pre-teen.

“Remind me why I agreed to this again?”

“It was your idea, Crowley. Something about ‘taking the mickey out of all the inaccuracies’, I believe.”

“I wouldn’t have said ‘mickey’, I would’ve said ‘piss’,” the demon grumbled, accepting his fate as one of the in-charge humans glared at him.

“I’d like to remind you that this is a family event,” she said pointedly. “Also we don’t allow flash photography or filming of any kind.”

“Of course,” Aziraphale said, smiling.

“Sure,” the demon grunted.

“Right then,” the human said, smiling brightly. “Come on in!”

The two celestials thanked her and went through towards the group of gathered humans.

Everyone was dressed in warm clothes and gloves against the cold, some with bobble hats on or brightly-coloured scarves visible beneath their thick coats. About half the group were adults, apparently mostly parents or grandparents of the other half of the group, who were children of varying ages and irritability. The adults were talking in hushed tones to one another, the kids either messing about together or complaining about the cold or stood in sullen silence, waiting for the main event to start.

Then a voice came from out of the darkness.

“Two thousand years ago,” it said, with the clarity of hidden speakers and a good microphone, “a child was born that would change the world. He was the son of God, and he was called Jesus.”

Crowley was about to lean over and mutter something snarky in Aziraphale’s ear, when there was a sudden rush of bright light and the associated gasps of several of the people there. The demon froze.

God, he’s beautiful.

Aziraphale was gazing upward in wonder at whatever had been suddenly illuminated in a nearby tree. The light had lit him up, too, bouncing off his pink cheeks and spellbound smile, and Crowley couldn’t help but just stare for a moment.

Eventually, he realised he was meant to be paying attention to whatever it was Aziraphale was watching, so he turned to see a human stuck up in a tree, dressed in flowing white robes and apparently playing an angel. He’d missed most of the dialogue, but it soon became evident that this was supposed to be the moment where the shepherds were told about Jesus. A swell of singing sounded from the trees – a poor imitation of an angelic choir – and the spotlight on the ‘angel’ vanished as the crowd were ushered towards a nearby barn.

The humans filed politely – Britishly – into the barn and took seats on the rows of hay bales that had been arranged for the occasion. Crowley looked around, a little confused and intrigued by this arrangement. But it all became clear in a matter of moments.

The performance was, Crowley grudgingly admitted to himself, actually quite good. Not necessarily in terms of historical accuracy, mind, but for the drama of it – yes, that was all pretty solid.

He watched the angel’s face soften into love when Mary and Joseph came on stage, accompanied by an actual real baby playing Jesus – a real baby! He was impressed by the dedication to realism when the shepherds ushered in real-life sheep to meet the child – real sheep! And (not that he’d ever admit it) he actually gasped along with the rest of the crowd when King Herod and his men came in – which, to be fair, anyone would have done, if suddenly confronted with a galloping horse screeching to a halt amidst an indoors crowd – a real horse!

He also watched Aziraphale’s features harden as the King threatened the death of the Messiah and enacted the murder of all infants in the area. I know, angel, I know. At least you didn’t have to see it.

The three wise men were fairly dramatic just in their looks – again, a decent production value, regardless of any relation to actual fashion of the time. And all the main points of the story were there, all the important stuff that always got retold at this time of year. It was a solid show.

At one point, Crowley looked over to see the angel crying – making no sound, but tears glistening on his cheeks in the candlelight of the barn. He wanted to reach out, to comfort him – an arm around the shoulder, perhaps, or even a soft squeeze of the hand sat on the angel’s knee. But no, that would be too much – they’d barely known each other for six thousand years, after all, that date ticking past only a handful of years ago. And more to the point, the incident at the church was only sixty-four years ago, the exchange in the Bentley in Soho barely thirty-eight years ago. Don’t go too fast. Don’t make him uncomfortable. Let him come to you.

Which is why all the demon did was nudge Aziraphale’s arm gently with his own, and when the angel looked at him he mouthed ‘you okay?’. Aziraphale nodded, and reached a mittened hand up to wipe at the tears on his face. The other hand found Crowley’s and squeezed.

The demon didn’t pay much attention to the end of the performance after that. He was too focused on the angel’s hand on his – in his, as they gently rearranged their grip to be more mutually-entwined – and on imagining what that would feel like without layers of fabric in the way. Warm, he thought softly to himself.

All too soon, it was over, and Aziraphale carefully slipped his hand out of Crowley’s as he stood up to leave. The demon felt the loss of the contact keenly, like a kitten suddenly thrown out into the cold. But he said nothing, did nothing, just stood too and followed the angel out into the freezing, dark night.

But as they left the field and headed back to the car, thanking the in-charge humans as they passed them, Aziraphale caught his eye and gave a small smile. Thank you, that look said, and that alone would have been enough. But then the angel spoke.

“I was thinking,” he said slowly. “That perhaps we could... do more things like this, together. Perhaps, in the New Year, we could... ah, well... dine at the Ritz?”

Crowley recognised the offer for what it was instantly, and felt every atom of himself set alight at once. He struggled to maintain outward composure, but by the suddenly-increased pinkness of Aziraphale’s cheeks, he could tell he had reacted him some way. It was only when he tried to speak that he realised his jaw had dropped open.

“Uh, ngh, yeah,” he garbled, mouth moving like a goldfish with only the occasional sound escaping, none of it in any way sensical. “Of course, angel,” he finally managed. “Whatever you want. Sounds lovely.”

Ohshitohshitohshitohshit.

Is this actually happening?

Crap. Shit. Fuck.

“Good,” Aziraphale said, and even soft and subdued as it was, shy and uncertain, his smile was as blinding as a million suns.

They reached the Bentley and climbed into its haven of warmth. Neither mentioned what had just been said for the duration of the drive back to London, and Crowley kept the music firmly turned off for fear of what the car might decide to play. But the silence felt companionable, warm, relaxed, not at all strained or awkward, and it was all Crowley could do to stop himself from saying something wholly inappropriate in light of it, like I love you, or this is the best day of my life, just for that, or you are the most incredible being I have ever met and just to hold your hand for so short a time is an honour greater than any other and one I most definitely do not deserve, so please feel free to take your time, I can live off this feeling from tonight for as long as you need.

The demon dropped the angel off in Soho, and drove to his own flat in Mayfair, and left the Bentley in its usual parking spot. And he didn’t even notice the temperature change as he climbed out of the car and into the frozen air, because right now, every inch of him was warmed with pure and simple love.

#advent omens #31 days of ineffables #warmth #good omens #My writing #drawlight #Aziraphale #crowley #this is partly based on a nativity performance i went to see a couple of times as a kid #yes i know it's february but it was frosty the other day and i got this idea in my head and then i wrote it so now here you are

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hi-i-love-u-bitch · 5 years

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Excuse me! But where is my Sanders Sides Gamer AU???

Voices in my head: Gee Bunny, it seems you have no problem writing a lot of other fics and stuff yet you still haven’t even finished the next chapter of your Spiderverse fic???

Me: SHUT THE FUCK UP DISEMBODIED VOICES IN MY HEAD!!! IF YOU WANT THAT FIC DONE SO BADLY TELL MY LOGIC AND CREATIVITY TO GET THEIR ASSES IN GEAR AND GIVE ME SOME GOD DAMN INSPIRATION!!!!

Voices in my head:.....

Me: Yeah, that’s what I thought! Anyways, idk if I just missed a memo or something but I haven’t seen any Gamer AU of my boys and that is a crime in and of itself! Like, how dare! But fret not, I am here to provide content (Read: headcannons) that you did not ask for! Let us begin! Or should I say start!

(please note that I am not a gaming expert so feel free to add or correct stuff)

NOW WITH A PART 2!!!!

MAIN SQUAD

Roman Rosewood

Obviously loves RPGs! Anything with a good story line really! Or has medieval fantasy aesthetic!

Skyrim, Diablo, Undertale, Final Fantasy, Kingdom Hearts, Fallout, Red Dead Redemption, Undertales, Dragon Age, God of War Dark Souls, Assassins Creed, Earthbound, etc.

Played West of Loathing just so he could rip on it but actually ended up loving it and spending way to many hours playing. Then he found out there was a game called Kingdom of Loathing by the same creators and went down that rabbit hole as well.

He was iffy about getting into JRPGs but then Virgil convinced him to play Persona 5 and he absolutely fell in love with the music!

All the music in his phone is either from musicals or Video games!

Also really likes choose your own adventure games like Detroit: Become Human, Life is Strange, and Telltale Games

So much video game merch! Usually figurines because he likes to make little shelves and display cases for them.

He also really likes multiplayer games because he’s a social butterfly and likes to play with his squad.

Sucks at first person shooter games but still willingly plays Fortnight or Call of Duty or Left for Dead with his friends because he doesn’t want to be a drag and complain. But also they sometimes die in game in the most hilarious ways and it just leaves everybody wheezing.

Virgil Dante

Horror games, obvs!

All about that dark aesthetic!

Devil May Cry, Silent Hill, Fran Bow, Sally Face, Resident Evil, The Witch’s House, Amnesia, Little Nightmares, Bendy and The Ink Machine, Alice: Madness Returns, SCP-Containment, Pony Island, etc.

Yes, he’s played all the Five Nights At Freddy’s games. It’s a good series and it isn’t his fault the fandom is bat shit crazy and full of ten year olds! Fuck you Roman!

Every time the Walking Dead comes out he knows he’ll end up crying by the end of it. He and the squad make and event out of it.

Japanese horror games are usually his favorite because they deal more with the psychological aspects of horror instead of the jump scares

So, yes, he’s also a fan of Corps Party and Fatal Frame

Also really good at first person shooters because he has a really steady hand (you usually have to when playing horror games least you want to restart the level) and it pisses Roman off to no end every time Virgil randomly headshots him.

Usually likes to by merch in the form of posters, t-shirts, or beanies. He only buys figurines if it’s a game he really, really likes.

At first didn’t know why people kept bugging him to play Doki Doki Literature Club but then he finally caved and...oh...that’s why.

Logan Mill

My boy loves puzzle and strategy games yo!

Legend of Zelda, Portal, Tetris, Unravel, World of Goo, Inside, Limbo, Pokemon, Shadow of the Colossus, StarCraft, Command and Conquer, Age of Empire, Heart of Iron, World of Warcraft, etc.

He likes Overwatch but doesn’t like playing with people online so he usual solos or asks the others to play. But that too usually ends in chaos.

Hates rage games because he gets frustrated easily and has broken at least four keyboards and two controllers

He still plays them anyways because he can beat it damn it! Just give him a minute!

Enjoys the God of War series despite all the mythological inaccuracies

He plays a lot of Minecraft to relax or destress and has build beautiful works of architecture and sometimes entire cities.

He thought it was stupid and childish and was embarrassed about it for a long time until the squad came over to his house one day uninvited and caught him playing. He was getting ready for them to make fun of him but they instead gushed about how AMAZING everything looked and how TALENTED he was for building all himself.

Logan ends up showing them how to play afterwards and they work together to make weird sculptures and complex tunnels underground.

He likes practical merch like backpacks, coffee mugs, pencil holders, notebooks, ect. as well as a few t-shirts and novelty ties.

Yes, he does collect Pokemon cards!

Patton Adley

Silly dating sims, farming games, and any cute game really! Plus a few side scroller games!

Stardew Valley, Harvest Moon, Slime Rancher, The Sims, Dream Daddy, Animal Crossing, Kirby, Monster Prom, Hatoful Boyfriend, Scribblenauts, Night In The Woods, Ni Nu Kuni, etc.

Big Nintendo fan!

He made the mistake of playing Doki Doki Literature Club without reading the warning tags and regrets it immensely...still a good game though.

He did the same thing with Huni Pop but that one made him laugh more then anything and he kind of got addicted to it. Then he found out there was a sequel called HuniCam so he went down that rabbit hole too.

He likes a lot of phone app games too like Cut the Rope, Neko Atsume, and Candy Crush.

Loves trashy dating app games, he thinks they’re so funny and cheesy

He was addicted to Mystic Messenger for a long while

Just because he has his preference doesn’t mean he won’t try other games too, Logan got him hooked on World of Warcraft (though really he did that to everyone), Virgil showed him Hollow Knight, and Roman suggested he play Undertales.

Prefers merch in the form of plushies and key chains!

He likes to bake and decorate cookies, cakes and pastries in the form of his favorite video game characters.

RED SQUAD

Duncan [Deceit] Adley (Patton’s twin)

A lot of first person shooter and combat games!

Doom Series, Super Smash Bros, Mortal Combat, Halo, Fortnight, Grand Theft Auto, Street Fighter, Tekken, Soul Calibur, Half-Life, Team Fortress, Destiny, Wolfenstein, Bio Shock, Splatoon, PUBg etc.

Patton was the one that introduced him to Splatoon and he won’t admit that it’s actually super fun.

Doesn’t mind story driven games and RPGs but he really just wants something he can zone out to and relax

He likes to troll people online, mainly assholes picking on little kids who just want to play.

He once teamed up with a group of kids on Call of Duty solely for the purpose of collectively kicking the asses of this groups of so called “real gamers” that were being jerks.

Has memorized all the combos! He doesn’t have time to sit and look up a cool finishing move, he needs it now!

Always mains the weakest/most useless character in fighting games and still manages to kick everyone’s ass.

Doesn’t have a preference in merch and usually grabs whatever he likes be it figurines, t-shirts, posters, plushies, or whatever, so long as he likes the game it comes from.

Has several tattoos from his favorite games

Emile Picani

Classic retro games, cartoonish games, and Nintendo are his jam broham!

Mario, Classic Sonic, Paper Boy, Transylvania, Spyro, Pac Man, All the Saga Disney games, Duck Hunt, Mario Kart, Galaga, Mega Man, Donkey Kong, Secret of Mana, Banjo-Kazooie, Conker’s Bad Fur Day, etc.

Absolutely fell in love with Shovel Knight when it came out!

Remy got him into all the indie pixel games: Towerfall, Terraria, Owlboy, Hotline Miami, Papers Please, Celeste, One Shot, etc.

Duncan was the one that introduced him to Cuphead and the usually play it together and see how far each of them can go without dying.

The game is difficult but the art is still so breathtaking!

Likes the occasional psychological thriller game

Bet Virgil showed him Alice: Madness Returns and Doki Doki Literature Club (after he’s played it of course)

Likes plushies and figurine merch with the occasional poster and coffee mug.

Likes to doodle a lot of his fav video game characters and cartoons and is actually really good at it. He helped design most of Duncan’s tattoos.

Remy Knightly

Likes a lot of indie games and old online flash games!

The Stanley Parables, Oxenfree, Inside, Firewatch, Super MeatBoy, The Binding of Issac, Donut County, Henry Stickman series, Impossible Quiz, Crush the Castle series, Hyper Light Drifter, etc.

He always gets everybody hooked on one game or another

He convinced everyone to play Undertales so for like a month they all went through a HUGE Undertales faze.

Was the actual, ACTUAL one that showed Duncan Cuphead because he knew the dork would be reminded of Emile because of the animation and would want to show it to him and play multiplayer (*cough* subtle matchmaker *cough*)

(Do not be fooled, he is a pinning boy himself)

Is up to date in all the gossip of the latest games and consuls, indie or mainstream! He’s in the know, know and if you need to know something chances are Remy probably knows it.

Weeds out through all the indie horror games for Virgil and recommends what he thinks are the best ones.

Same thing with Logan and his puzzle games, he’s usually is able to find very strange ones and Logan seems to likes those best.

Obviously has a lot of merch in coffee mug and thermal form as well as a few key chains.

Occasionally streams on Twitch with Duncan and Emile (sometimes inviting the main squad too), they’re commentary is usual hilarious.

#thomas sanders #sanders sides #roman sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #remy sanders #sleep sanders #deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit #emile picani #red #prinxeity #logicality #(kind of mainly in my head)#video games #gamer au

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nothing-but-kpop-dreams · 6 years

Text

Pinky Promise (request)

Request: Can I request a mark tuan scenario where he's a doctor and his girlfriend is a cop and they argue cause he's worried about her chasing criminals and they almost break up, but then they make up? Thanks! Hope this makes sense lol

Author's note: I don't knoe too much about law enforcement so sorry if there are inaccuracies and stuff.

Word Count: 2023

“Ouch, ouch, ouch!” you winced in only a minute amount of pain as you slowly slid the sleeve of your coat over your wound of the day.

The cut running down most of your forearm was no big deal (at least that was what you were telling everyone, including yourself). It was a small price to pay in order to do what you did today; chase after a low life, follow them into some dark dirty alley, corner them, wait for them to realize they have been caught, then cuff them. And well, you probably got a cut on your arm from hitting the edge of a dumpster, but as mentioned earlier, it was all part of the job.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna at least wrap that up?” your partner asked. “That cut is pretty nasty looking.”

You let out a playful scoff. “Nah, I’m good. We both know I’ve gotten worse than this before.”

“Oh, so the first aid kit under the sergeant’s desk isn’t good enough for you and that doctor boyfriend of yours?” he joked.

“Oh please, you should hear the arguments we have over him wanting to clean up my cuts and stuff and I won't let him.”

Jaebum, or Jb for short now that you were close partners, looked down at you with a teasing look of disapproval. “Gosh I remember the first day I had to work with you. I saw you and thought, “That person right there… is probably a stubborn little asshole”, and boy was I right.” he laughed, giving you a playful pat on the back. “I really feel sorry for your boyfriend… I’m heading out already, but make sure you get that thing cleaned up. I don't want excuses tomorrow!” he said as he walked out.

“Night!” you called out, gathering your own things so you can head home.

The ride back proved to be uncomfortable. The cut kept rubbing up against your coat sleeve. It was still so raw and sensitive that any little bump on the road sent waves of fiery pain up your arm. It would probably be best to have that “boyfriend doctor of yours” look at it. The only thing was that you didn't want him to get all worried over you. He had a bad habit of overreacting to any little thing you came home with.

Now at your door, you took a deep breath before stepping inside. You needed a second to prepare for the full on lecture you were going to get about “being more careful about your surroundings”, “making sure to have rubbing alcohol in the police car”, “Did you at least rinse the cut out?” and all that other concerned whining.

“Hi baby!” you smiled a bit too overenthusiastically when you walked in to find your boyfriend, Mark, slumped on the couch.

“Hi!” he said with a tired smile.

It was easy to see how exhausted he was. He hadn’t even changed out of his work clothes yet.

It was a safe bet to leave your coat on. You didn't want to rile him up so soon. As casually as you could, you sat next to him and pulled him into a side hug; it was all just to make sure you wouldn’t bring your wounded arm into contact with him. “How was everything at the hospital today?” you asked with a quick peck.

“Busy, as always.” he huffed. “And how was your day?”

“Same. I had to chase some stupid ass punk today, so that was pretty exciting.”

Your boyfriend sat up. He was already more alert over hearing this piece of information. He always got this way. Any little story you had that sounded any bit dangerous, put him on edge.

“And you’re okay right? The douche didn’t hurt you or anything?”

“Baby, I’m fine. I just got a cut, but other than that, I’m good.”

“Cut? Where? Did he have a knife on him? Did you fight with him?”. Now he was in a panic. You could feel his body get all tense.

“Mark, calm down. I think I might have cut my arm running past a dumpster, that's all.”

“A dumpster?!? Do you even know how dirty- Ugh! Just let me take a look at it. I need to see how bad it is.”

You rolled your eyes at him. For someone that was chill 99% of the time, he had his over dramatic moments.

You slowly took off your coat. Yes, the cut still hurt and it actually looked more irritated than before. You’re skin was all red and swollen. It honestly looked kind of gross now.

“Bathroom now!” He said sternly.

Without listening to your opposing pleas, Mark grabbed your good arm and dragged you behind him towards the master bathroom. That place was more his mini doctor's office than it was a bathroom, but hey that was the “perk” of him being a doctor.

“Why is this not wrapped up?” his voice was already in that lecturing tone. He didn’t even look at you though, his focus was on your arm. He was in the zone, grabbing all these bandages and oils and stuff from the cabinets.

“Cuz- I don’t know- it didn’t hurt at the time.” you couldn’t think of a better excuse. “Not that I really had time cuz like right after, we got called in for a domestic abuse thing.”

“Did you at least wash it out later?” he grumbled as he continued to work his magic on your arm.

“...No” you said guiltily.

And in what felt like seconds, he was done, but he wasn’t happy. He looked up at you with a clenched jaw. You were actually surprised by how pissed he was. Sure he’s always nagged at you to be more careful, but he was never like this. “Why not?” he asked in a low voice.

“... Just cuz.” you said timidly. He aura was so intense now you were honestly a bit intimidated.

“Dammit y/n, you do know that could get infected right?!?

“Yes.” you groaned.

“So why not take care of it?!? Why are you so stubborn about taking care of yourself? This has to be the third time this week that I have to bandage you up. You know much I hate that? I hate seeing you hurt! Everyday is some new scary story of how you can home cut up or bruised up or almost got shot or almost got in a car accident!”

You stayed quiet and kept your head hung low.

“I am really starting to hate that you’re a cop.” he continued. “I don't know why you put yourself through this. I- I don’t why you’re still on the force. I would have thought you would have switched over to a desk job by now.”

You looked up at him with furrowed brows. The topic of you being a cop has come up before. Mark has expressed how much he prefers you aren't one, but it was more of a joking manner. But now he was serious about it… and that didn’t make you very happy.

“I don’t see why you won’t quit that job already.” he added.

“W- why would I want to quit?”

“Pft! Because it’s dangerous!”

“So?!?”

“What do you mean so? Do you have any idea how worried I am over you every day? And then to have to come home to you all beat up? I hate it! I would much rather you just be here or something. Like- like you don’t have to work! I make enough for the both of us!”

“What?!? Not work?” And now you were pissed. “So then what do you expect me to do?”

“Well- I don’t know.” he stuttered “I mean- I don’t mean don’t work but like- ugh- I don't care what you do or don't do as long as you aren't doing what you're doing now.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. “I can’t believe you are actually saying this. I- I can’t do this. I don’t want to do this.” you said as you walked out of the bathroom.

“Babe, wait!” Mark followed after you “Can’t you at least think about it some more?”

You spun back at him “No I dont wanna fucking “think about it”! How dare you ask me something like that! You very much knew what my job was when we started dating and you had no problem with it then. But if you don't want a girlfriend that’s a cop, well then get a new girlfriend!” you spat.

Instantly his face fell. “What? No!” He closed the space between you two. He tried to reach for you but you pulled away. “Baby, I don't want to do that! I love you. I just want you safe!” he pleaded.

“Mark, if you really loved me, you wouldn't be asking me to quit my job! How would you feel if I asked you to quit being a doctor?”

“But that's different! My life isn't constantly on the line!”

“Um, yes it is! Everyday you walk into a building filled with sick people. It's literally covered with - with germs and- and disease. And like you might accidentally poke yourself with a needle and get hiv. You might get attacked by a belligerent patient. You've told me so many stories of stuff like that happening. And how many times have you gotten assaulted by the family members of dying patients?”

“Twice” he said reluctantly.

“Exactly! There was that “6 foot, 300 pound guy” that tried to beat you up when his wife died after giving birth and there was that mother that smacked you when you told her her son passed. And let’s not forget about that creepy guy that literally threatened to kill you after you told him his daughter's condition was getting worse!”

Now it was him that stayed quiet.

“Do you have any idea of what your asking of me right now?!? For as long as I remember, I have wanted to be a cop. Believe it or not, graduating of the academy is like, one of the best days in my life. I love being a cop. I love wearing my uniform and driving around with Jb. I love pulling over asshole drivers and tackling down piece of shut people and bringing in assholes that beat on their kids or spouse. Sure, I don't like the stupid paperwork, but I love the thrill of what I do. I love knowing that I am saving people, that I am protecting them… isn't that the same reason you became a doctor?”

“...Yeah…” his sighed. “You- You’re right. You’re right. Totally right. Y/n, I’m sorry. It’s just, I worry about you that’s all.”

“Yeah, I know, but that doesn’t give you a right to try to control me.”

Mark sat down at the edge of the bed. He was completely deflated, almost like how he was when you got home. “I know…”

You felt a bit bad seeing him look so defeated. His intentions were good, he was just worried about you overall.

You let out a long. The weight of the argument was heavy on your shoulders. You started at him for a while as you tried to get yourself calm before you said anything you would regret.

Eventually though, you went over and sat next to him. With your good arm, you pulled him into a side hug. He rested his pouty face on your head and for a long moment the both of you were quiet.

“I’m sorry.” he repeated, this time wrapping his arms around you. “I really crossed the line today. Everything came out wrong and I'm really sorry.”

“... I mean, I could have been more careful. I really should have washed it out at least. How about this, from now on I truly promise to be more careful at work?” You suggested holding your pinky out to him.

A small smile grew on his face and his pinky wrapped around yours. “And I promise to not overreact and get all controlling and ask you to quit your job.”

-Admin Boat

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timeisacephalopod · 5 years

Text

Snapshot

A lil Ned/ Peter AU because these boys don’t get enough love! They’re aged up, so they’re in their twenties rather than teens, but still. Its a celeb AU also- Peter plays Spider-Man instead of being him.

“Oh my god I can’t go out there,” Ned hisses at Michelle. She looks nonplussed but she always looks like that even when there are celebrities here. Ok, there are always celebrities here but Ned doesn’t really care about most of them its just that he happens to be a huge Spider-Man nerd and Peter Parker is the best person he’s ever seen cast as the character. Toby Maguire was a travesty, and Andrew Garfield is pretty but not the perfect fit. Peter Parker though, Ned has never seen someone bring the character to life the way he does. Everything about him is absolutely perfect and now he’s sitting at a table with Tony Stark and okay this is... this...

“Ned, get your head out of your ass, he’s in your section,” Michelle tells him.

“You’ve got this!” Liz tells him over the little half wall that separates him from the kitchen area she’s in.

Yeah, he’s got this. He’s totally got this- Peter Parker is just a regular dude looking for food and Ned happens to know the food here is good. He probably eats too much of it, though to be fair he works a lot. Celebrities give good tips and he has school bills to pay for and also rent.

He starts walking over and okay never mind he does not got this he’s a lowly fat boy in school walking towards a person who plays one of the most iconic characters on television right now he is not worthy. He goes to turn around and give his table to Michelle when Peter god damn Parker notices him and smiles, waving a little excitedly and Ned has no choice now he has to go over.

“Uh, hey. I’m waiter, I’ll be your Ned this evening. I mean I’m a waiter, my name is Ned. I will be waiting. On the food. With the food, on you. Um. I’m going to shut up now,” he says, wishing he could banish himself to the shadow realm forever for that. Holy Christ he managed to embarrass the hell out of himself in less than two seconds this is the worst day of his life he hopes the earth gets hit by an astroid large enough that he’ll die long before he has to deal with poor Peter.

Yeah, Peter knows Ned is embarrassed but it was cute, watching him flounder a little. “Do you ever get used to that?” he asks Tony.

He shakes his head, “not really. I mean you get used to it in a way that you kind of expect it, but not in a way where you can really accept why people treat you that way. Or I didn’t, I know a lot of people who kind of let that kind of treatment go to your head and we’ve all watched what happens when child stars leave Disney. It really does fuck with people to have everyone treat you like a god only for them to turn around and get pissed off that you act like one now too.”

Shit, yeah Peter has seen that happen plenty but that’s just... not him. He grew up in Queens and didn’t even think he had a shot at landing the role of a lifetime. Hell, he would have ended up working a shitty dead end job because he couldn’t afford to go to college if not for Tony finding him at an improv group and deciding he had enough talent to fund his education. He’s always loved acting, putting on a show, and boy that has come back to bite him in the ass in really weird ways but in the end things worked out really well. Except for the part with the crazy fans, he doesn’t care for that, but that’s part of the job so.

“Hm. It wouldn’t be like... creepy to ask a fan out, right? Like because they’d be way less likely to say no to you? Would that be weird? I think that might be weird I won’t say anything,” he says, sealing his own fate.

Tony laughs, “depends on the fan and that one isn’t the type to worship you and also isn’t the type to stalk you. Keep in mind that consent goes both ways and fans are just as likely to ignore your boundaries. Maybe more, actually, since totally ignoring our privacy and personal space is considered normal and kind of encouraged. But that guy- just flustered. Probably a comic book nerd too,” he says.

If he’s a comic nerd Peter doesn’t see why he’d like Peter much. He can’t even believe the amount of blowback he got from the comic fandom over the fact that he’s trans and playing Spider-Man. Yeah, he obviously expected some blowback because that’s... well, normal not that he wants to admit that casual transphobia is alive and well. But it is, and he expected it, but the sheer amount of people that thought just that part of who he is should disqualify him from playing the character was nuts. Thankfully Peter Quill happens to be a crazy bastard and basically told everyone and their dogs to shove it because he knows what he’s doing. Which, to be fair, he does. And casting happens to be a skill he’s especially good with.

“Think you might be wrong about the comic nerd thing,” Peter says. Comic nerds are bird brains, he has decided.

“If you say so, kid,” Tony says and Peter can tell Tony thinks he’s right but he doesn’t say it.

Tony is trying to explain how he and Arthur Curry of all people ended up in a relationship when Ned comes back with food. Poor guy already suffered through drinks and Peter tried to talk to him to try and make him feel more comfortable but it didn’t really work. So when he comes back over Peter grins, “that smells so good,” he says and he is starving. Being stuck under film lights all day is actually exhausting work contrary to popular belief and obviously he gets fed but he’s like a bottomless pit with food. Can’t ever seem to get enough, but he’s always that way. The bonus is now that people read him as a guy no one asks if he should eat that much they just kind of assume he’s a glutton. Which, yay, because pastries.

“Um yeah, its pretty good. I’ve tried basically everything here except the caviar and the escargot because I draw the line at rich people food that sounds like it should be poor people food,” he says and Tony snorts, laughing into his hand.

“Yeah, guess fish eggs kind of do sound more like a thing poor people would eat than rich people. Weird. Also, not good- I’ve tried it and I don’t get the hype,” he says, shrugging.

“Tastes like spunk, I don’t get it either,” Tony says and the response obviously surprises Ned because he looks at Tony with a shocked expression on his face which, in hindsight, is probably why he doesn’t notice Peter’s food go overboard and into his lap. He jumps up before the hot food can do damage, then winces when the plate ends up in several pieces on the ground and Ned looks horrified.

“Its okay!” Peter says fast. “Things happen!”

“I am so sorry!” Ned says, eyes wide in horror.

“Its fine! I’ve had worse things thrown at me,” he says fast. Which is true, but also.

Ned rolls his eyes, “all those people who decided you couldn’t play Spider-Man because of some comic book inaccuracy or whatever bullshit need to look at those comics again because in issue 1034, which was released eight weeks before you even got the role, Gwen Stacy asks if you can lay eggs. Tom Holland, not you, you just play him. Whatever. Anyway, Gwen Stacy is a genius so she’d definitely know that only lady spiders can lay eggs. Also, Spider-Man is well known for his slightly high pitched voice and sure, people can argue that’s because he’s a teenager but I was sixteen once too and by then my voice was normal, so for Tom Holland to have hit puberty that late its totally acceptable to consider the effects of T on his voice and also- wait, no, oh my god. You don’t give a shit about any of this, people suck. They’re transphobes and also you have the perfect frame for it and lets be real, Christian Bale would have been a better choice than Toby fucking Maguire,” he says, flapping a hand around and wincing at his rant.

Peter raises an eyebrow, “there’s actual comic text evidence for trans Spider-Man?” he asks and Ned shrugs, cheeks turning a little red.

“I mean, you kinda gotta dig but if they can randomly make Captain America HYDRA and then unmake him HYDRA when everyone hated that shit trans Spider-Man is much less controversial. Actually, its totally inconsequential because why would that affect being Spider-Man, it just means you gotta take T and you- Tom Holland not you- got bit by a radioactive spider. Is being trans really more unrealistic than that? Because any idiot who claims realism probably need to pull their head out of their ass because the real world ain’t got super soldier serum to give you a shredded bod. Which, by the way, is my kind diet plan- just taking some experimental serum and come out hot. You don’t care about that either, oh my god, I’m getting comic nerd on a celebrity and also your food and-” Peter cuts Ned off to save him from himself.

“I think I might be in love with you, Ned,” he says and then winces, looking to Tony in a panic. Why the hell would he even say that!

“What he means,” Tony interjects smoothly, “is that he thinks you’re adorable, and he wants you number. Maybe a date, if you’re comfortable.”

Ned stares for a long moment. “Oh my god this is exactly season two episode four where MJ asks Gwen out for you even though that’s dumb because MJ and Gwen clearly belong with each other,” Ned says, eyes wide.

“Yeah I know right? Peter- Quill-” he clarifies when he remembers too late there’s two Peters involved in Spider-Man, “keeps pushing for it but stupid TV people won’t let him. So now he’s writing them as gay as possible to piss everyone off, except its kind of backfiring because now everyone thinks he’s queerbaiting but he’s not he’s queer expliciting as much as he can before someone fires him. Also yeah, I just don’t think Gwen is a good match for my character anyways, I mean she’s nice and all that but they’re kind of... platonic. Oh, um, do you know what a Miles Morales is?” he asks because Quill mentioned him and Peter has no idea who that is.

Ned does because he lets out a loud noise that’s halfway between a huff and a squeal and Peter is sure he’s never heard a noise like it before. “Oh my god they’re introducing Miles Morales! Yes!”

Tony throws a dinner roll at him and it bounces off his head, “you shit head, don’t give away spoilers!” he says like it isn’t a meme that Peter consistently gives stuff away. At this point they’ve started using it as marketing material it happens so often. Like that time he opened a supposedly internal poster on his Instagram and faked being shocked when he realized it wasn’t supposed to be public. Everyone ate it up even if they all knew it was fake- obviously it was considering the video was never taken down, but the fans loved it anyway.

“Give me every single spoiler now!” Ned says, excitement written all over his features.

Peter considers saying no but he’s not good at peer pressure, its how he got talked into doing shrooms when he was thirteen and that was a bad plan. “The multiverse explodes and one of the spider people dies but I can’t tell you which one,” he says quickly. Tony throws another roll at him for it but he can’t help it.

Ned lets out a loud screech, “oh my god if Peter Quill kills you I’ll go kill him!” he yells way too loud. People turn to stare and Peter waves them off.

“Talking about a TV show!” he assures people and Ned, to his credit, looks like he kind of wants the earth to swallow him.

“Peter doesn’t die,” Tony says, “and we’re going to leave before Dipshit McGee lets any more spoilers loose. You might not want to tell anyone any of that stuff, people will find you and I really wish that was a joke but its not. You’ll get like twelve cease and desist letters.”

“That’s true, I have like fifty of them in frames and also I’ve been banned from reading scripts until shooting schedule because I really am terrible at keeping things secret and this is really Quill’s fault for telling me any of this stuff and hey wait I don’t have his number yet,” he says and Tony drags him off.

“I’ll get his number and pay, you stop spoiling Quill’s hard work before he decides to kill you next,” Tony says.

#peter parker x ned leeds #fanfiction #alternate universe #writing

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