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bowieandqueen11 · 9 months

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Jesse Pinkman Being Jealous Would Include...

Request: omg so glad you’re writing for breaking bad rn cause i literally just started watching it and i’m obsessed 😭 could you do jealous jesse pinkman please? (hcs or a fic whatever you want)

Oh my gosh yay I'm really glad you started watching it!! If you haven't already you 100% have to watch Better Call Saul afterwards it's one of my favourite shows of all time! :)

Warning: spoilers for later seasons of the show! Mentions of drugs, mentions of drinking/alcohol, mentions of burn injuries, light swearing, mentions of trauma!

(I do not own Breaking Bad or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @tilldeathdousart.)

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°

Baby boy, baby boy. meow meow cat man. its so hard writing you as jealous because i feel if anyone started flirting with your s/o you would just break down crying and honestly same we love an in touch with his emotions king loml honestly

Jesse has always been the jealous type. Hot headed. Easily wound up by bullies ten times his size and a thousand times more ferocious and cutthroat than he had ever tried to be. Almost as easily as he had slipped into that easy routine of being ass over heels, devastatingly in love with you. The kind where every night, he tosses and turns in his mildew spelling bed, plagued by thoughts of doing nothing all day but sloppily kissing your lips between blunts. The kind where he has to stare up at the sky after he's been caught staring, until his retinas burn the sunlight into the back of his skull, yet the pain is nowhere near as cataclysmic as the hurricane your smile brings to his heart.

He had far too many years to temper it, to try and smother his love, and yet over time he seemed to get worse and worse and worse at stopping it from choking at his throat. He wasn't so bad during high school: sure, you found him a little odd, the way he would brag to his friends in the corridor about how he'd never 'studied a day in my life, man!', and yet in Chemistry he would be chewing the edge of his pen and scribbling furiously down on his paper during the end of term quiz.

He was terrible at tempering it, and you were terrible at seeing it.

Little did you know, that all the words he scratched down with his shaking hand were either complete guesses, or absolute gibberish. He had no idea what the paper was even supposed to be on, but you were sitting beside him, and so he wanted to look as smart in front of you as he possibly could. Bless his heart, to everyone else he was so obvious: Mr White would just peer over his shoulder and shake his head, his mouth in a lined frown as he watched Jesse peer like a meerkat over the side of the desk to stare at you from behind his slipping down beanie.

Some of his friends, his 'gang' as he liked to call them, were snickering from a couple of benches behind at the way he was trying to look clever by placing his fist under his chin, but his elbow kept slipping off the edge thanks to his baggy hoody. Even Justin Treller, the guy sitting to your right, and the kid Jesse was getting more and more annoyed with every time he leant over to whisper something in your ear, was evidently enjoying the way the tips of Jesse's ears were beginning to burn with embarrassment.

Eventually, when you began giggling at the things Justin was leering further and further towards you to murmur, Jesse began to snap. That's when he began doing stupid shit to make you laugh, like plugging the tube in and flicking his hand through the Bunsen Burner flame to try and impress you with his pain tolerance. When Jesse inevitably ended up being sent to the nurse's office for such a dumbass idea, he was wincing so harshly at the pain that he nearly tore through his bottom lip, leaving a nice scar. You volunteered to bring him down, spending half of your lunch period taking care of him.

He sat caved in on himself, trying to make himself as small a target as possible on one of the fold out chairs. He was obviously embarrassed, by the way his voice kept cracking each time you tightened some of the new dressing over his fingers. Mainly he was talking to try and distract you from the way his hands were shaking, so desperate to reach out and brush over your cheek that he nearly sobs with the effort. He also doesn't want you to notice how pathetic he looks: how he so subconsciously prepares himself for the mental barrage from his mother, or the physical threats from the people he deals with out in the streets, that he looks like a meek kitten sitting there with his palms down on his knobbly kneecaps.

He had known then, of course. He had known, as you pressed your lips chastely against the back of his sore knuckles, and giggled at the way his cheeks immediately flushed like a blooming snapdragon, that you would always be the love of his life. The only thing, behind the emotional neglect, the gossip, the drugs, the constant damn pressure, that he truly had chosen to care about. Which is why, after he bought his parents house and asked if you'd want to live in it, free of rent, he was shocked that you said yes.

Good things don't usually happen to this boy. And seeing how you were the best of all, he had to swallow his heart and just smile at your words, terrified he was going to ruin you.

I mean, living there at first had been easy enough. You had been round (or smuggled in by Jesse) so many times since that day in the nurse's office, that it felt like a second home to you. His parents, while they had still been speaking to Jesse, had absolutely adored you. They would always be teasing their son during family dinners about how he had been saving up doing his *wink wink* 'paper rounds' late at night, just so he could save up for the big wedding he was planning. Blushing ferociously, Jesse would duck his head down until his forehead banged against the tablecloth, begging his mom with that tired drawl to 'please... just stop'.

Somehow, somehow you just... never saw it. Perhaps you were laughing too much at the way Jesse's father was pretending to elbow his son to notice. Maybe, you were trying to cover your own eyes in mortification. I'm not sure, but I do know that you never seemed to notice the gut-wrenching look of pure hope Jesse would throw your way, once he had mustered the strength to peek his head up again.

While he shook his head and bit at the corner of his fingernail, while he poked and prodded at his escaping garden peas, while he took an awkward sip of his water and pretended to glance around the table. He was always looking your way, as if you had tied his heart to a string, his compass pointing him north, directing him back to his true home. His eyes would just linger on you like a listless man possessed from between the prongs of his fork, stabbing harshly at the plate in time with his thudding heart.

His heart sure was beating now. So ferociously, he thought it was about to splinter and explode out of his chest, implanting the chards everywhere until they were all that was left in memory of him. He knew you were getting sick of the constant parties. Of him being dazed 24/7. Of not knowing why he lashed out all the time. He knew it wasn't fair, but every time he closed his eyes he just saw Gale's pleading eyes beginning to burn itself into the safe memories he kept in the back of his head. He couldn't sleep. He couldn't breathe from all the sobbing. He couldn't even think in peace. So he just bit the cap off another beer bottle and fell down heavily on the edge of his brand new thousand dollar sofa, imprisoning himself in self-isolation despite being lost amidst a sea of people.

It was right at that moment you decided to try and brave down the stairs, having to hold onto the bannister for dear life as you jumped down each step, the bass vibrating through the walls until they shook. As you peered over mountains of baggie hoodies and tripped over lumps of passed out people on the floor in your effort to try and find Jesse, you accidentally bumped into the back of one of Skinny Pete's friends. You apologised as he turned around, which would have been fine if he hadn't taken one look at you and decided you were his main entertainment for the night. The smell of stale weed and lukewarm beer radiated off his sour breath as he leant down to rasp against the shell of your ear, sending a chill rolling down your back. You tried to compress your shoulders and squeeze past him, but the guy would not stop trying to grab onto your waist and pull you back, staring very blatantly down at your chest.

You knew Jesse had been shoved into the deep end of some shady business recently, but the way he had been acting over the last while had been frightening you. So despondent. So careless. To come home every day and find him almost completely blazed out of his mind on the floor, seemingly not recognising you as he failed to respond to your greeting. Not realising that as soon as you wandered into the kitchen to put the groceries away, those desperate, love strung eyes were following your heels. He nearly cried out for you, voice hoarse and heavy in the back of his throat.

If he had mustered the energy, he would have gotten onto his hands and knees and crawled like a baby on the floor to follow after you. The way you would beg him at 2 a.m. to turn down the music, and he would just grab at your hands and try to get you to join in his terrible on the spot jump-dancing. You never discerned how heartbroken he seemed to be when you jolted back from him as if shot; his bottom lip would quiver and he would sink to his knees when your bedroom door finally slammed shut.

He couldn't take it. He couldn't take it anymore. First it had been his parents. Then the drugs. Then Mr. White, Gus, Gale, Mike, Saul, the pressure just kept building up and up and up and he didn't know how to escape it. Too cowardly to run away, just as he had always been resigned into believing you could never love him back. Too submissive. Too easily used. And now, now there was barely anything left of him. Sometimes, sometimes that scared kid would try to crawl out of his throat when he was alone at night, but he would just choke on his tears in the darkness until he had drowned him again.

So what does he do? Gets off his face drunk, and throws another mind numbingly monotonous party until the walls start spinning and he doesn't even know who's coming through those doors anymore. Hell, he still half expects his mother to come busting through, chiding him for having drugs in the house. For having you in the house, with such company present. For being a coward.

Now he had just brought more trouble on himself. If the company he now decided to keep didn't get his hands off you in approximately ten seconds, you were going to knock him on his ass in front of all his little buddies.

Thankfully, Jesse seemed to have a sixth sense as to when you were in trouble, and he had been steadily keeping his beady eyes on you ever since you reached the top step. Before you could shove the guy back, Jesse's already doing it for you. As soon as he’s by your side you can tell he’s wound up: not by the way he comes striding over, shouting over the beat and lowering his head as if he’s about to headbutt the guy. Not from the way his hand flies in his face, or the swears, the long string of increasingly ridiculous ‘bitch’ related insults he calls him, but from the way he looks so, so tired. He looks on the verge of tears, his eyes bloodshot as he brushes gently past you to start shoving the guy out the front door, yelling above the music to shepherd everyone else out as well.

'Jesse... seriously, you need to tell me what's going on, right now.'

When the door finally slams shut, you know him well enough that the best thing to do is just let his head cool down for a minute. When he was younger, that used to involve ringing you up whenever his parents had threatened to kick him out again; you would come clambering over the picket fencing lining his immaculately manicured side-yard to see him sitting on the edge of his windowsill, smoke rings blowing out the side of his mouth as he waited in the dark for you to arrive. His hand would shake as he hefted you up from the piping by his bedroom wall, awkwardly landing you down half on his feet as he would just stay beside you all night. He would speak from time to time, asking you about what you wanted to do once you managed to escape from this dump ass town. But mainly, he just leaned his head back and listened to your voice, gazing up at the faraway stars as if it were the only place he could possibly be truly free.

But now, he was far worse off than you ever could have imagined. He hunched over, as if he had a spiked collar weighted around his neck as he lumbered past you, crawling down onto the floor. He drew his knees up to his chest as he sat back against his brand new surround sound speaker, ducking his head into the gap and clawing at the back of his neck until you worried he was about to draw blood.

It was horrifying, hearing how he gasped between retching sobs as you sunk down on the floor next to him.

You tentatively reached out to place a hand on his back, kicking an empty pizza box out of the way with your foot so you could sit with the side of your thigh touching his. As soon as you made contact, he leapt at you like a rabid dog, clawing and clenching and biting his teeth into his shirt as he fell onto your chest.

‘Please. Please don’t leave me’, he gasped out between heaving cries, looking up at you with eyes so dejected, it were as if someone had stifled out the blinding stars once in them with dark clouds. Bits of saliva stuck between his teeth as he screwed his eyes shut once again and began bawling even harder, falling like a broken bird as you held the back of his head and guided it down to rest just above your breast bone.

‘I love you’, he starts sobbing, fists bunching up the material at the back of your shirt. It was you. It always has been. And if you walked out that door with the rest of them, he had nothing left. He would willingly roll over, and let himself just rot away.

You sure as hell saw it now.

Eventually, after you rock him back and forth against the floorboards for a while and just cradle him in a way he’s never experienced during his years on earth, he becomes more placid against you. It helps that at some point, you had absentmindedly begun to trace the silvery wisp of an outline that had been left on his bottom lip all those years ago, your pointer finger glancing back and forth as it quivered. He was almost entirely curled against you now, pretending to be asleep so you wouldn’t stop, but his breath froze when he heard you whisper ‘I love you too’ against the top of his hair.

He’ll feel really sheepish the next day when he finally wakes up, peering round the corner with his hand behind his head when he spots you trying to straighten out the crick in your neck after a night spent on the floor. He’ll come apologizing with his go to breakfast: a childhood favourite of pancakes absolutely drenched in maple syrup; they were the kind his mom would make if she were in a good mood at the weekends. When he would sit at the table the morning after you slept over, watching stupid cartoons his brother had put on the small television, grinning to himself as some dripped down his chin. It had been the happiest he had been in his life.

Although he still has that boyish, soulful smile on his face as he sits criss-cross down beside you, you can tell that he’s still plagued by how wet his eyes are: how heavily he’s blinking.

‘I really do love you, you know that right?’, you whisper, taking the plate from him.

‘Yeah, I do.’

Suddenly your fork goes crashing to the floor, forgotten about as you lean forward to kiss him, nearly surprising the heck out of him as his teeth clash against yours. He’s quick to reach up and tenderly, oh god, so gently cradle the side of your cheeks, but that’s soon abandoned as he readily allows you to guide him until his back is against the floorboards. You clamber over until you’re almost straddling him, beginning to smile yourself as you feel him grin against your top lip, the soft peals of his giggles breaking out against the surface of your tongue as you dip down against him.

And suddenly, his life seemed like it was worth fighting for again. He was going to get out of this. He was going to escape. He was going to win. Not for himself, but for you.

#breaking bad #jesse pinkman #jesse pinkman imagine #jesse pinkman x reader #jesse pinkman headcanons #breaking bad imagine #aaron paul #skinny pete #badger #walter white #gus fring #saul goodman #jesse breaking bad #jesse breaking bad imagine #jealousy fic #x reader #breaking bad fanfic #breaking bad fanfiction

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devilishcupid · 1 year

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8 O'CLOCK | Gustavo Fring

☆ premise: you and gus confront each other after you call the cops on his dealers.

☆ pairing: gustavo fring x gn!spouse!reader

☆ warnings: angst, angry gus & reader, possessive!gus mention (sorta? idk)

☆ a/n: been thinking about that plot point where jesse found out that gus' men used a kid to deal and i just couldn't resist a "what if" scenario with gus' spouse.

7:50

Knowing your husband's line of work, you dreaded the day he might never come home. But tonight, this was the first time you wished he wasn't.

A part of you felt like an idiot. You knew Gus had eyes and ears on you 24/7. He had the latest security systems in place at home. He had Mike following you around when he wasn't doing cartel-related work. He made sure he knew your every move. So, of course, you knew he had your phone bugged.

7:55

But you weren't going to keep quiet. When you found out he was more than just a restaurant chain owner, you made him promise one thing—no children. He swore he had never and will never use children for his business. And you believed him.

You could've gone to the nearest phone booth. But you didn't. You called 911 on your phone. You wanted him to know—no, you needed him to know you did it.

8:00

On time, as always. You heard your husband's car pull up on the driveway just as you finished setting up the table for dinner. You approached the entryway, breath hitching as you wondered what he'll do. You knew not to mistake his calm demeanor for gentleness.

After what seemed like an eternity, the door finally opened. You expected Gus to come in and give you a look that could kill. You didn't expect him to smile and pull you in an embrace with one arm.

"How are you?" Gus asked, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

"I—I'm fine," you stammered, confused by his demeanor.

"Good. I'll go freshen up, then I'll join you for dinner."

You watched in amazement as he headed for the bedroom. How was he acting as if nothing was wrong?

The night went on the way they usually did. The two of you ate the dinner you made while talking about the day you both had—minus the cartel business and the 911 call, of course. Afterwards, you washed the dishes while he cleaned up the table and put the leftovers in the fridge.

After cleaning the last of the utensils and leaving them on the rack to dry, you turned around to find Gus staring at you. Gone was the warmth he showed you tonight, replaced by a coldness that not even you had seen before.

"Why did you do it?"

When you didn't answer, he approached you until he had you pressed in between his body and the sink.

"I asked you a question—why did you do it?"

"You know why." You responded, swallowing the lump that formed in your throat.

His jaw clenched, and you could hear a hint of frustration in his voice as he said, "I didn't know they were using children."

Your lips formed a thin line. You didn't believe a word of it. For a man who was three steps ahead of everyone else, how could he not know?

"You keep tabs on your partner, but you don't keep tabs on your own men. You expect me to believe that?" You spat as you glared at him.

You started to walk away, not before Gus wrapped his hand around your forearm and pulled you back against the counter. You tried to pull your hand away from his grasp, but his fingers tightly gripped your wrist, nails digging into your skin.

"Do you truly believe I would deliberately use children in my operations?" He growled, anger dripping in every word. "You think that lowly of me?"

"That's the problem, Gustavo—I don't know!" You snapped, your voice so loud the neighbors would've heard you if it weren't for the soundproofing measures placed in your home. "I have no idea what happens in your line of work. I rely on your word because I trusted you. I thought you would never lie to me. But today, you did. Now I wonder what else you've been lying to me about."

He closed his eyes, his hand loosening its grip on your arm. After a few moments, Gus looked at you again. "You may not believe me, but it's the truth. I didn't know. But as soon as I found out, I dealt with the problem immediately. No more children, I made sure of it. This I promise you."

Finally letting go of your arm, he stepped back and started walking away from you. Before he could disappear into his office, you called out his name. He stopped in his tracks and turned around to face you.

"How did you deal with it?"

"Do you need to know?"

#˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ doll's fics #gus fring #gustavo fring #gus fring x reader #gustavo fring x reader #breaking bad #breaking bad fanfic #breaking bad x reader #breaking bad imagine #better call saul #better call saul fanfic #better call saul x reader #better call saul imagine #giancarlo esposito

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bonkwosher · 1 year

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Gus Fring Jealousy/Possessiveness Headcanons

A/N: Aka Gus dealing with assholes that flirt with you. I'm so absolutely down bad for Gus it's insane. Also, x male reader bc Gus is gayyyyyy.

Contains: Implied age gap relationship, possessiveness, creepy man (Not Gus), jerk, LYLE CONTENT

Pairing(s): Gustavo "Gus" Fring x Reader

I would say let's take it on a "how long have you been dating" basis but Gus is possessive from day one, maybe even before that. He doesn't often have the opportunity to feel jealous, he's much older than you so you two don't really go to parties or clubs. He keeps you in his proximity as often as possible & that wards most off.

He had even gone out & bought you a necklace with his name on it, if he's feeling particularly moody & you aren't wearing it he'll point that out. If you forget to put it on when getting dressed up for a dinner he'll come up behind you & slowly put it on you, looking into your eyes through the mirror that stood in front of you.

Speaking of fancy dinners, that was the first time Gus got jealous. It was your second date & he had invited you to an elegant restaurant. You looked out of place even while wearing a suit. Gus walked briskly up to you & offered you his hand, leading you back to his table. You were a blushing mess.

Everything was fine until a drink appeared at your table, your favorite drink. You noted that & thanked the waiter before they said, "The gentleman over there ordered this for you." Gus looked up to see a man practically drooling over you from the bar. His smile dropped, only returning when you held eye contact with him.

"That's so nice of them, hey, free drink!" You chuckled. 'You're gullible' Gus thought to himself. Thinking the man wanted nothing more than to be nice. He felt his fists clenching, now under the table to hide his anger. Yeah, maybe Gus needs a little longer to process his feelings for you but that doesn't mean someone can waltz in, buy you a drink, & whisk you away before he knows what he wants. On the inside he loves you, he'll deny it because memories of Max will come up, but his heart knows. He tells himself the root of his possessiveness is that he wants to get to know you without other influences.

"What would you like off the menu?" he asked, quickly trying to change the subject. Gus sat in silence as he read through the menu, you pointing out all the things that sounded good. Finally, you found something. The only problem, it was terribly expensive. Your voice went high, "Oh- um, I don't think I'm hungry."

Gus placed his menu on the table, "What do you mean?" You closed the menu & sat back, arms crossed. "I insist that you get something to eat, Y/N. You do know this is my treat right?"

"Are you sure?' You feel almost bad that this man is offering to pay so much for you to eat. "Absolutely. Plus, if some sleazy bar-goer can buy you your favorite drink I have to top that somehow." You pointed out the item on the menu quietly. "Oh! Very good choice," Gus chimed before returning to his own menu.

You guys had a long period of peace right up until you were about to finish your food. The man from the bar had come up to your table, probably a bit buzzed. "Hey there, handsome. I'm about to go but I wanted to get your number." You froze, beginning to stammer out a response. Gus set his utensils down on his plate & wiped his hands on his napkin as you continued to babble. He stood up & faced the man, yeah he was shorter & probably less built, but his cold stare was deadly.

"You should get home before you embarrass yourself any further," Gus spoke, looking directly into the man's eyes. The man felt a shiver but persisted, ignoring Gus, "I have to admit, from the bar you looked amazing but now that I am up close... you are breathtaking." Gus places a firm grip on the man's forearm, forcing your admirer to turn to him. "What is your problem man?" Made Gus' grip tighten, the man let out an "Ow!"

"What do you think you are getting at here, can't you see that he & I are here together? On top of that, he is clearly uninterested! Buying a drink for someone & giving them a rapey look from across the room, get some class! Hitting on a taken man? Clearly, you lack the spine to even close on a relationship so you have to attempt to destroy other's love. I gave you your chance to leave. Take. It. Now."

The man ripped his arm from Gus & put his hands up in surrender before running off. Gus sighed & fixed his coat before sitting back down, "So, are you hungry for dessert?"

Bonus bc I'm amazing /j:

As much as it worried Gus, especially after Hector & Lalo frequented his restaurant, you would visit him sometimes at work. Of course, he didn't voice his concerns because he wanted to wait as long as possible to tell you about his real work, if ever. To attempt to make you stop visiting, he would ignore you as much as he could, using the excuse, "I'm sorry Y/N, I have a lot of work to do."

You would chat with Lyle, getting free food & sitting at the booth with the best view. On breaks, Lyle would sit with you & talk about random things or whatever you wanted to talk about. Surprisingly enough, Lyle didn't worry Gus. You would absentmindedly play with your necklace that had his name on it & Lyle must've gotten the hint at that point.

It wasn't until Lyle's friends showed up to check out his work & the quote "food that's to die for." Lyle's two friends sat with you him once they got their food, a man named Jake took the spot next to you. He said something stupid that made you laugh really hard. At that moment, without anyone noticing, a camera stopped while facing your booth. Gus was watching.

The four of you spoke & you kept laughing. Laughing so much your cheeks & core hurt. Normally, Gus would be swooning, mentally remarking that you were the light of his life. Though knowing it wasn't him that was making you happy struck a cord. It didn't help that the man was your age, your age gap being something that made Gus feel guilty.

As you were telling a story to the boys, a cup was placed in front of you. Your favorite drink. Gus took note of it from your second date, trying to take something good out of that encounter. You looked up to see him with his customer service smile & thanked him. You could tell he was about to ask if the food was good.

"Hey asshole, can't you tell we're talking here? Get me a coke while you're out here giving everyone drinks," Jake took Gus' interjection as a rude interruption, arguably going too far. "Jake, he was just being nice. Why are you so-"

"It doesn't matter, Y/N. This guy is some minimum-wage loser that interrupted my conversation with you. He gets paid to make chicken & serve decent members of society like me!" You couldn't help but smirk to stop yourself from outright laughing in his face. Lyle buried his head in his hands, regretting associating with someone like this (Not like Lyle knew, he's best boy).

You looked back up to Gus who now had his cold, soulless stare. You made eye contact with Jake, "That is my boyfriend, the owner of this whole franchise. Decent member of society my ass." The shock on his face from your statement doubled when Gus grabbed him & dragged him out of the restaurant, throwing him outside.

"Do not show your face in a Los Pollos Hermanos ever again," he spoke before wiping his hands together. He turned to you & grabbed your arm, pulling you into his office. You gave him a big hug, but the fact that he didn't hug back scared you a little. You quietly apologized, "I didn't know he was like that. From the looks of it, Lyle didn't know either."

Gus pulled away & brought his hand to your necklace, staring at it silently while brushing his thumb over the lettering. "Gus, I hope you don't think I was into the guy. I love you, only you."

He looked up at you wordlessly before looking back at the necklace. His mind was churning, fighting back every urge to manipulate you into never talking to another man ever again. He promised himself he'd never hurt you but watching you naively satiate every man's need for your attention drove him mad. His intentions weren't to freak you out with silence, rather to protect from the words he could say.

He knew how to stop himself & you from talking. You rambled on about how you were sorry, "Gus, I promise I didn't mean to-"

"Be quiet." Gus gripped the necklace tightly & pulled you forward into a kiss. You were shocked by how this turned around but can't say you were complaining, you thought just a second ago that Gus was going to break up with you.

It was far, far from that.

#gus fring #gustavo fring x reader #gustavo fring #gus fring x reader #giancarlo #giancarlo esposito #breaking bad #better call saul #male reader #brbabcs #brba fic #silly little gay drug lord

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howabhwmwn · 3 months

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Gus and Gale on a date ✧ painted for the gift exchange Blue Christmeth. ✧

#better call saul #breaking bad #gale boetticher #gustavo fring #gus fring #art #i feel a bit awkward knowing im the only one who painted instead of writing a fic #but im pretty happy with how this turned out (gale was really hard to get right and im still not 100% it looks like him but eh :'))

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elialys · 8 months

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Post 4x22. When Olivia is once again targeted because of the Cortexiphan in her brain, she’s forced to realize she’s not as safe as she wanted to believe, and neither is her unborn child.

Olivia’s dreams long ago ceased to be just that; dreams.

For most of her life, she felt like she didn’t actually dream, unable to remember any of them, except for the most upsetting ones. Younger, she’d been prone to nightmares, something that undoubtedly contributed to her insomnia. She used to think she was getting too few REM cycles for her brain to bother coming up with anything.

Things are different, now.

Not only does she remember her dreams, she’s aware that she’s dreaming while she’s dreaming. Those aren’t lucid dreams, though, not exactly. She has no control over what goes on in there, except the ability to wake herself up if needed.

Ever since she first went into that Tank, she’s been a conscious spectator in her dreamscape, a phenomenon that has only gotten worse since the timelines shifted.

Her realities merge in her sleep. The memories of that life she never really lived, she experiences them as a mere bystander. The memories of that life she did live yet forgot, some of them blocked since childhood, they’ve all resurfaced.

These days, she dreams of the Forest.

A couple of years ago, in Jacksonville, she’d visited that landscape for what felt like the first time. She knows better, now. The Forest is not new at all. Symbolically enough, the Forest and its trees are at the roots of her very first nightmares, along with her most recent ones.

In most of them, the little girl is there, too. That little blonde girl she runs after, trying to catch up to her, to protect her.

Olive.

Maybe in some twisted way, this is her subconscious trying to fix itself. There is only so much a psyche can endure before it breaks.

The Forest…this is where it all started.

That little girl who runs through the trees, terrified and lost, she still has a chance. And so, Olivia chases her, night after night. If she got to her, if she could just get to her, so many things would be different.

But she always loses her amongst the trees.

* READ MORE ON AO3 *

#fringe #fringe fic #peter x olivia #polivia #olivia dunham #peter bishop #(featuring unborn etta ❤️)#any interaction with this post and this story is appreciated #be kind to your fic writers

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biteofcherry · 9 months

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More late sleepover mischief…

What was it like the first time reader slept over the full night with Alpha Ari, Fringe Stucky, splash of courage Bucky, and Cherry Steve?

Actually, you spend your first full night with Alpha Ari after your mating/wedding ceremony. Look how respectful and traditional Ari is! It's going to be a bit awkward, living under the same roof, sharing the same bed. And you can't even treat is as a trial sort of thing, because this is it - he's your mate, your husband. If it wasn't for Ari exhausting you into slumber, you probably wouldn't be able to fall asleep at all, overthinking the whole new domestic life awaiting you in the morning.

Now the first night with mobsters Bucky and Steve has nothing to do with sleeping, at all. In the comforts of the bedroom at their penthouse they are even bolder than they were at the office. Though the morning is less awkward than you expected, since as their assistant you already are used to some of their non-sexual preferences and habits.

With Bucky it's just so endearingly cute and a bit stressful, but in a good way. You even attempt on staying awake while Bucky sleeps, so that you don't scare him off with your snoring, or so that you don't kick him in your sleep. But Bucky's warm, comforting presence, arm curled around your waist, simply switches your brain off and you fall asleep. In the morning you're greeted with his beautiful smile and disastrously messy hair, and it suddenly seems you were nervous for no reason.

Enforcer!Steve smoothly talks you into staying the night and only a part of it is bribery with mindblowing sex. Which, actually, helps you fall asleep in his bedroom, though your heart is hammering uncertainly. You wake up a few times during the night. Once Steve fingers you into sleep again; the second time it's the attention demanding huge dog of Steve's who wiggles his butt against your unoccupied side and settles to sleep there, that eases your nerves. You feel more awkward and ashamed when Steve drives you off after breakfast, and you climb up the stairs in a wrinkled dress from the night before.

#buckets-and-trees #spontaneous sleepover #alpha!Ari levinson #ari levinson x reader #bad moon rising #stucky x reader #fringe benefit #bucky barnes x reader #a splash of courage #enforcer!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve fic: cherry

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lesbianfring · 1 year

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Look at what just came up to me on YouTube

THIS HAS GALE BOETTICHER'S NAME PLASTEDRED ALL OVER IT LMAO YOU CANT TELL ME OTHER WISE

Gale : owns a pair of these unironicaly. Wears them to pride events and parades, but he'd also wear them to his graduation ceremony if he could. He doesn't, tho. He takes into consideration Gustavo. He respects him too much to disrespect him by wearing that, especially because gus is his sponsor.

Walter : he sees Gale wearing them to the lab one day. He can't help but to look at them in disgust. Not only are they obviously an obnoxious item of clothing, there is a wift of homophobia in there. The longer he thinks about it tho, he considers buying one. Sky mentioned how important it is that they support jr- no flynn. Its important they support flynn. Walter isn't good with words and verbal communication, so maybe this will be a sign of safety to flynn?

Maximino Arciniega : Had he lived long enough, just a picture of these would enough to crack him up. I can see him ordering these as soon as the ad hits his screen, hiding it when it arrives from Gustavo, and he waits for an important event to wear it and show his husband before they leave home, just to see the HORRIFIED look on gus's face. I'd also imagine that one day, Max would leave home early and take away all of gus's shoes with him and leave only a pair of these that are mysteriously in Gustavo's shoe size.

#gale boetticher #maximino Arciniega #walter white #gusmax #flynn white #pride #brba #bcs #gustavo fring #did i just write a short fic

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cloysterbell · 2 years

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I have had. A fucking month. Please show me pictures of your pets so that I may look at them

#dumb text posts #it's been a month!#leverage or fringe fic recs are also accepted thanks in advance

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oliviassunrise · 6 months

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Midnight Polivia Drabbles #1

“That was the stupidest thing you’ve ever done,” she reiterates to him for probably the fifth time that night

The clock on the wall of the hospital room is ticking well past midnight. After hours of pacing back and forth and sitting in uncomfortable chairs, she’d made him scoot over and make room, nestling into the tiny bed next to him on his good side.

She should really call down and see if someone can get her a cot to sleep. She’s not sure she can simply go home tonight.

Peter, still doped up on pain meds, offers her a lazy grin and places his hand over hers on her thigh.

“We caught him, though,” he reminds her, a little too proudly.

He’s not a bit sorry. At least not yet.

Olivia sighs. Yes. Yes, they had caught their suspect. At the cost of a bullet that had barely missed his ribcage. All because he couldn’t let it go. He had to keep pursuing, even after Broyles had warned him to stand down.

She wants to be angry at him. She wants to hate him. They’d talked about this when he stepped up for training to a more active role at the Bureau. They’d made an agreement: no vigilante bullshit.

The problem is, she knows why he did it. She remembers the way she’d had to talk him down the first time they had the guy in custody, before they had any proof. Olivia had interrogated him, a smug son of a bitch with an answer for everything and a lawyer on speed dial. The asshole had put up a wall of defiance, disregarding her at every turn.

Peter had already sat tight, fists and jaw clenched the entire time, his own questions clipped and precise to stay professional.

Then the man dared to tip his head toward Olivia’s prominently round middle and ask, “So, how much longer are they holding out to keep you around without getting sued?”

That had Peter nearly knocking down his chair, sending it sliding halfway across the room. Olivia caught him just in time, before he could round the table and put his hands on the guy. He’d yelled and cursed at the man the entire way to the door as she’d escorted him out.

After that, she’d lost every bit of leverage she might have had. The suspect was let go on a technicality.

Days later, armed with proof and a warrant, they’d gone to arrest him. Peter had set out to make a point.

The call she’d received from Broyles while she waited back at the Bureau had sickened her stomach. She’d been out the door and on the way to the hospital before they could even hang up.

Hours later, here she is. Here they are.

Peter still doesn’t get it, but trying to reason with him right now is about as useful as reasoning with a two-year-old. So, she lies there for as long as they can both tolerate the cramped bed, listening to the beeping of his heart rate on the monitor.

Suddenly, she feels a stirring in her belly.

Olivia presses a hand to her bump to feel. This is the first time she’s moved in hours, and now she’s practicing for what Olivia can only assume will be her future career as a professional soccer player.

Peter, alert at her sudden change, shifts in the bed, wincing at his own movements. He doesn’t ask, and she doesn’t have to say anything.

She simply takes his hand and places it with hers over where their daughter is tucked away safely. The content, dopey smile that spreads across his lips is enough to solidify the impossibility of her being angry at him.

For several minutes, they lie there, simply feeling their little girl move and kick and make her life force known. A reminder of why they do what they do.

And why they don’t take unnecessarily life-threatening risks.

“That really was the stupidest thing you’ve ever done,” she repeats.

This time, Peter can only stare at where their hands are joined, half asleep but still contemplative.

He nods, lifting her hand to his lips.

“I know.”

#fringe #fringe fanfiction #polivia #olivia dunham #peter bishop #my fic #woke up at 2am and could sleep #so I wrote

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starplusfourletters · 6 months

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(way too many) thoughts on the ahsoka show

It was fine? I was really afraid there would be something I hated. And there was nothing I hated. Sad but true that that’s the bar for new SW material atm.

I really liked ep5; ep5 will probably get a rewatch. I liked the casting. The visuals were pretty cool. Huyang was a treasure.

So we’re really going with “the Force is in everyone so everyone can use the Force if you just try hard enough”? I… kind of hate that. That somehow feels ableist of me to say. But this is a heckin fantasy universe I feel like some people Really Are That Special, y’know?

Exception that proves the rule: A Force-less Sabine is still VERY SPECIAL. In Rebels, she can hold her own in a fight just as much as Kanan or Ezra. She’s extremely competent without the Force. She’s somehow less competent in this show

She really is just the worst here in ways that I do not remember her being in Rebels. I guess arguably Ezra was the one with Terminal Protagonist Syndrome in that show? And she caught it from him before he left?

I feel like what this season WANTED to be about – and honestly it’s the lowest hanging fruit possible for a show titled “Ahsoka” – is the tension between Ahsoka’s past / her relationship with her master and her future / her relationship with her apprentice. But I don’t think they actually hit a balance there, because they just did not make her relationship with her apprentice very compelling. Three reasons for this:

1. My bias. There are very few things that start with “Ahsoka &” that would get my attention more than “Ahsoka & Anakin.” Feel like I’m not alone on that one tho

2. Established canon. It’s already an uphill battle because Ahsoka and Sabine don’t have much of a relationship in Rebels. I’m honestly not sure they ever have a conversation. I remember Sabine being like “wow she’s cool much cooler than my idiot adopted brother”, and maybe that would be a place for a mentor figure relationship to start, if Sabine weren’t already DROWNING in mentor figures. It’s not that they have nothing in common, they are just straight up not a focal point of Rebels S2.

Hey you know who canonically has latent Force abilities? And maybe needs some training? And whom Ahsoka would have a Complicated feeling about without even needing a prior established relationship? Someone with mutually incompatible daddy issues? Someone deep enough in the cultural zeitgeist she literally would need no introduction?

Yes I KNOW it’s never gonna be canon and I should just go back to AO3 but it’s RIGHT THERE HRRRRRGGGGHHHHH

3. But a lot of the issues with Ahsoka & Sabine as a focal point are of the showmakers’ own creation. You’re telling me they have a relationship now? Fine, CONVINCE me of that:

First they shoot themselves in the foot by not giving us any information about how Sabine became Ahsoka’s apprentice originally. Why did Sabine want to become a Jedi when she didn’t want that in Rebels? DID she want to become a Jedi? What did she want to learn from Ahsoka? Why did Ahsoka decide to take an apprentice at that time and not any time before or after? How did she feel about it? And why pick Sabine, who is, and this is true, Not Very Good at the Force? Who approached whom, or did they run into each other accidentally? I suppose answering some of these questions might require answering “where was Ahsoka between 3 BBY and 4 ABY?” and they aren’t ready to do that yet, but guys. GUYS. If you’re trying to tell me how Ahsoka and Sabine fix their relationship, you gotta tell me why I care first.

I know I'm harping but I really cannot emphasize enough that "fuck it I'm gonna go round two on Found Family" is an arc-defining character beat for both Ahsoka AND Sabine and the fact that the audience doesn't get to see it really makes me question whether the powers that be themselves know what it looks like

Then we get vanishingly little information about why they broke up, and all of it is provided by Huyang. And what I’m picking up from what we have is “Sabine got too Revenge Quest-y, and Ahsoka got nervous.” I don’t even know where to begin here – maybe with the fact that if Sabine decided to go on a murder rampage, she wouldn’t need the Force, lol. We know Sabine’s family died, she wanted to go to Mandalore, and Ahsoka didn’t want her to. So… did Sabine go? How did she end up back on Lothal? Who left who? Was Ahsoka worried for Sabine’s safety, or that she was getting too Dark Side-y, or both? What juicy terrible intergenerational-trauma-driven things did they say to each other when they broke up? I want to compare and contrast this with Ahsoka leaving Anakin, but I do not have the information to do so because there are zero details and the info we DO have is from ANOTHER CHARACTER. Again, if this season is about this relationship, TELL ME WHY I CARE.

To me this is the same cardinal sin as Picard S1 – implying that some really interesting stuff happened when the audience wasn’t watching, and that it explains why the characters are behaving the way they are, and then… not disclosing that information. EXCEPT PICARD GAVE US MORE THAN THIS fjdghjfghjkhkd

I was not on Tumblr when I was watching Picard S1. Probably for the best.

But okay, they have a history, the show is gonna be about them, sure let’s move on. AND THEN THEY SPEND LIKE HALF THE EPISODES NOT EVEN IN THE SAME GALAXY. The time they do spend in the same room is 75% generic sniping. As someone who came into this way more invested in the Ahsoka & Anakin relationship, ep5 was very much NOW BACK TO THE GOOD PART

And the couple of beats they do have together have me going HUH? After ep2 I spent most of a day debating myself on whether there’s a missing scene, between Sabine getting stabbed and waking up in the hospital, where we see Ahsoka actually REACT. On one hand, Ahsoka would be upset, maybe we as the audience can fill in the gaps and we don’t need to spend time on it. On the other hand, maybe we do, tho? At the time I was thinking about how we haven’t seen Ahsoka truly emotionally vulnerable since TCW with the exception of “Shroud of Darkness” and maybe “Twilight of the Apprentice.” She has a very normal range of emotions, and she expresses them in very controlled ways, and I just wanna see what she looks like when that breaks down, ya know? What’s weird to me is that in ep4 when Ahsoka thinks Sabine is dead we do get this beat; she gets Real Mad there for a second. So maybe what we’re learning is it was a double beat and they should have cut the stabbing thing entirely I mean come on they had to have known they were gonna catch flack for that. Then again, having that moment shows the audience that Ahsoka does give a shit, more than she wants to admit and more than she typically shows Sabine, which is a fun compare/contrast with Anakin, and it might have given me a better understanding of the relationship if it had come earlier.

The other big beat is Sabine deciding to help the baddies. That is just such a devastatingly terrible decision. So bad, in fact, that I feel like we’re supposed to be drawing parallels to Anakin. Their whole “screw over the galaxy to save one person” thing. Except 1) Sabine is not Anakin and 2) in order for that to be interesting, Ahsoka needs more information than I think she has. She knows Padme died around the same time Anakin totally lost his shit, and that’s about it. Which is actually a fun little thought experiment: what assumptions does Ahsoka make about the causality there? The only people who could have given her more intel are Palpatine, Obi-Wan, and Vader – unlikely. So IF the show is about the lines between Anakin and Ahsoka and Sabine, Sabine’s choice here could be central to that, and crucially to Ahsoka’s understanding of that, except it’s just for the audience I guess?

I do really like that Ahsoka’s extremely chill about what Sabine did, though. Ahsoka “Eh Shit Happens” Tano. Somehow her lesson from all this is “masters support their apprentices literally no matter what. Citation: Mine did.” That’s an unhinged take and I expect nothing less from my blorbo.

WHICH IS WHY WE SHOULD HAVE AT LEAST GOTTEN A FLASHBACK TO THE SITUATION IN WHICH AHSOKA DIDN’T SUPPORT SABINE HRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH

I realize that I’m really tearing into this thing pretty much just for not being something it isn’t. Like, it’s not BAD. But maybe its weaknesses stem from not committing to being about any one thing. It’s kind of about intergenerational trauma, it’s kind of a Rebels Part Two, it’s kind of a Filoniverse installment, it’s kind of a worldbuilding exercise. And that’s not necessarily too much material for an 8-hour show. It’s more like the powers that be DECIDED that was too much material.

TLDR, footage of me after pretty much everything star wars that’s come out since the Disney acquisition:

youtube

#fringe benefit: I feel like I was actually on target with my “ahsoka and luke say way too many words” fic #weirdly validated that my post-empire ahsoka is within a standard deviation of the canon one #“she could maybe fucking say that”#ahsoka show #ahsoka spoilers #ahsoka tano #sabine wren #ahsoka and sabine #long post #ahsoka and anakin #Youtube

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