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preppernewstoday · 1 year

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(Psst: The FTC wants me to remind you that this website contains affiliate links. That means if you make a purchase from a link you click on, I might receive a small commission. This does not increase the price you'll pay for that item nor does it decrease the awesomeness of the item. ~ Daisy)By the editor of The Conspiracy Files: “Crazy” Theories That Turned Out to Be True Conspiracy theories. What to some is a sign of critical thinking is, to others, a sign of dangerous insubordination. I was taught by my father that a good argument can stand up to criticism and that finding someone who disagreed was a fine way to test your theory. I’ve never been too bothered when folks disagree with me. In fact, I’m eager to know why. I want to learn whether or not I’m missing something. But these days, it seems that I’m in the minority. The “danger” of conspiracy theories The term has long been used in a derogatory fashion to belittle the ideas of a person who doesn’t necessarily accept that everything can be taken at face value. These days, it’s used to denote a train of thought that is downright dangerous, even an existential threat to civil society. What’s everyone so afraid of? Normies – folks who aren’t big questions of the status quo – used to just shake their heads and smile at the “quirky” conspiracy theorist in their life. They considered it a harmless past-time, an eccentricity. However, now we have the media breathlessly warning people of the innate deadly danger of conspiracy theories and the people who espouse them. Outright FEAR is being stoked. Let’s take a closer look. The FBI warning Back in 2019, the FBI said that conspiracy theories posed a domestic terrorism threat: “The FBI assesses anti-government, identity based, and fringe political conspiracy theories very likely motivate some domestic extremists, wholly or in part, to commit criminal and sometimes violent activity,” the document said. “The FBI further assesses in some cases these conspiracy theories very likely encourage the targeting of specific people, places, and organizations, thereby increasing the likelihood of violence against these targets.” The document continued to say that the bureau reached its conclusion “with high confidence” and based on information it obtained from other federal agencies, open source information, court documents, FBI investigations, and human sources. Yep, this is the same FBI whose own documents concluded that they had investigated the Trump campaign without justification. The one whose director was caught violating DOJ policies and breaking protocol in a lackluster investigation of Hillary Clinton’s emails. Pardon me if I’m not too worried about what the FBI thinks. The academic warning Then we have the people who consider themselves smarter than the rest of us: the academics. The website “The Conversation” boasts that their content “is written by university scholars and researchers with deep expertise in their subjects, sharing their knowledge in their own words.” So it must be true, right? Anyway, a postdoctoral research fellow in philosophy warns us of the “dangers” of conspiracy theories. He kindly dumbs it down for the peons by comparing it to “the floor is lava.” When a child declares that “the floor is lava,” few if any believe the declaration. But that child, and others, begin to act as if the declaration were true. Those who do may clamber onto furniture, and repeat the declaration to others who enter the space. Some children play just for fun, some play to show off their climbing and jumping skills, and some play to appease the child who initiated the game. Some kids quickly tire of the game and wish to stop playing, but like or respect the child who initiated the game, and don’t want to upset that person by stopping. As the game progresses, some take it too seriously. Furniture is damaged, and some get injured while attempting to leap from one raised surface to another. The lava is fake, but real things get broken.

More seriously, when Donald Trump claimed that the 2020 presidential election was “rigged,” some officials and ordinary citizens acted accordingly. Whether out of sincere belief, partisanship, loyalty to Trump or financial opportunism, many Americans behaved as if the 2020 election was unfairly decided. Some people acting as if the election conspiracy theory were true assembled in Washington, D.C., some stormed the Capitol building and, behind the scenes, some developed a scheme to submit fake slates of electors supporting Trump’s reelection despite his loss at the ballot box. The people involved in these activities could count on the support of others who endorsed the rigged election claim, even if these endorsements were largely insincere. The costs of acting as if the 2020 election were rigged are no doubt greater than those for acting as if the floor is lava. The costs of acting as if the 2020 election were rigged led to millions of dollars worth of damage to the Capitol building, led to hundreds of arrests for Capitol rioters, led to multiple deaths and imperiled American democracy. My goodness, that’s a lot of rhetoric, isn’t it? I guess he missed that documentary 2000 Mules, huh? Of course, a journalist on NPR said that 2000 Mules is a “wild tale” and a “conspiracy theory” with “absolutely no evidence.” Heck, it’s downright “extremism.” But the film is the latest in a long line of movies that use the tropes and signifiers of documentaries to gain credibility. In recent years, documentary style films about the 2020 election, the COVID-19 pandemic and vaccines have spread conspiracy theories and recycled debunked lies. “Documentaries have been used for decades to try to make bad actors and folks who are trying to push conspiracies or push disinformation or push a specific political agenda look more professional, look glamorous, look like something that you can believe,” said Jiore Craig, head of elections and digital integrity at the Institute for Strategic Dialogue, which tracks online extremism. My question is: what makes their conspiracy theory more valid than the original conspiracy theory? The “assault on democracy” warning The Economist interviewed Nancy Rosenblum and Russell Muirhead about the “dangers” of conspiracy theories. They are the co-authors of the book, A Lot of People Are Saying: The New Conspiracism and the Assault on Democracy. Nancy and Russell call it “conspiracy without the theory,” claiming it’s all nothing more than baseless accusations and somebody ought to do something about it. (Emphasis mine.) The new media—social media, of course, but even basic things like internet message boards—challenge the traditional gatekeeping function of editors and producers. Today anyone can say anything to everyone in the world instantly and for free. And because validation of conspiracy claims takes the form of repetition and assent, even the most casual “likes” and “retweets” give authority to senseless, destructive charges (“a lot of people are saying”). We are seeing the political effects of this change and one of the first things we’re seeing is the spread of a politically malignant form of conspiracy without the theory. Can the same technology that disseminates charges like “fake news” or the “deep state” also disempower it? Can political representatives and citizens who grasp the effects of conspiracism, the way it delegitimises democratic institutions, exile it again to the fringes of political life? No one has figured out how to do this yet, short of some form of public- or corporate-censorship of egregious conspiracy-entrepreneurs like Alex Jones or, what is now unthinkable, censoring irresponsible political officials who endorse conspiracist claims. Nancy and Russell believe we need to defer to the scholars. The counter-force comes from the authority of knowledge-producing institutions (that is, courts, expert-staffed agencies, research universities) on one side, and democratic common sense on the other.

Wherever conspiracism is reshaping public life, two preventatives are vital: to defend the integrity of knowledge-producing institutions and bolster confidence in the ballast of common sense. After all, it’s only “rational.” Interestingly, painting women as irrational and hysterical was a tool that was used to oppress them for centuries. But I guess it’s A-OK to do that to political opponents. (How do you starve the beast? Check out our free QUICKSTART Guide to learn more.) The thing is, conspiracy theories are often more valid than the “news.” When you read those arguments in a bubble, they sound perfectly reasonable. It’s only when you look at them through the lens of the things going on in the United States, and heck, the world, that you see how stifling it is. For a decade, I’ve written about “conspiracy theories.” I’ve shared information and suggested that while it might seem innocent at first, it’s a slippery slope. Then people call me crazy, and then the next thing you know, we’ve slid down that slippery slope, and when we’re in a pile at the bottom, nobody steps up and says, “Whoops, I guess you were right. Instead, they memory-hole (thanks, Orwell) their initial (incorrect) arguments and gaslight us, acting as though they never disagreed with us in the first place. That’s why I put together a PDF book this week with many of the “conspiracy theories” I’ve written about over the past ten years. The Conspiracy Files: “Crazy “Theories That Turned Out to Be TRUE is a limited run – the book will only be available this week. It discusses propaganda, censorship, Covid-19, the Ukraine war, the election, the Great Reset, dangerous technology, and much more. It’s 543 pages, and I think, if you are a conspiracy theorist like me, you’ll find it very interesting how many of these “crazy conspiracy theories” turned out to be true. You can get your copy here, and it’s name-your-price. Repeatedly, we’ve seen our theories and opinions publicly mocked, the purveyors of those opinions defunded and shunned, and the people who believe them belittled and degraded. Sure, some conspiracy theories are truly nuts – but the beauty of free speech means that we can decide for ourselves through research and reason what we believe to be the most accurate portrayal of the facts. If you think about the scientific method, it all starts with a theory. Then the person tests it and holds it up for examination to see whether or not it’s true. Why are conversations looked at differently? I should be able to provide my evidence and converse with someone who provides evidence to the contrary. Nobody should be cast as a villain for that, but it seems rather villainous to silence people for daring to believe something other than what the media tells us is true, without question. Of course, I guess us thinking for ourselves instead of believing what we’re spoon fed is what makes conspiracy theories so darned dangerous. (Want uninterrupted access to The Organic Prepper? Check out our paid-subscription newsletter.) What about left-wing conspiracy theories? The argument that conspiracy theories are dangerous often overlooks left-wing conspiracy theories. All of the things below have been proven objectively WRONG but nobody seems to think these are dangerous. That conservative kid from Covington was disrespectful to the Native American guy Donald Trump colluded with the Russians The Covid pandemic started in a wet market because someone ate a bad bat Hunter Biden’s laptop didn’t exist Covid vaccines will keep you from getting Covid There are a whole bunch more and most of them are about President Trump. Whether you love him or hate him, he didn’t say that neo-Nazis were very fine people and he did not tell folks to drink bleach to cure Covid. Nobody in the mainstream media is running around calling these attacks on the former President a threat to democracy. Nobody in academia is calling the nonsense about Covid that destroyed our very economy dangerous. In fact,

you have to really dig to find out anything about those subjects online and a lot of folks still believe them. I’d say that there was a coverup of left-wing conspiracy theories but then I’d sound like a crazy conspiracy theorist. What are your thoughts on conspiracy theories? I’ll proudly wear the tin foil. I refuse to just “absorb” the opinions of the mainstream media. Conspiracy theories give me another perspective, another way of looking at the world. And it’s a way I’m free to take or leave. Just like I should also be free to take or leave what passes for “news” these days. I’m not saying you need to be delusional, but there’s absolutely nothing wrong with questioning things, coming up with a theory, and having a conversation about it. Obviously, you shouldn’t use those questions to harm others. Folks who act in violence based on a conspiracy actually are crazy, regardless of whether that is a left-wing or right-wing conspiracy theory. There will always be crazy people out there. But most people don’t do that. They just discuss it and ask questions. Long live the conspiracy theory and the freedom to discuss things. Do you believe in conspiracy theories? Are you “dangerous?” Do you think those conspiracy theories are something that should be silenced? Let’s talk about it in the comments. About Daisy Daisy Luther is a coffee-swigging, adventure-seeking, globe-trotting blogger. She is the founder and publisher of three websites. 1) The Organic Prepper, which is about current events, preparedness, self-reliance, and the pursuit of liberty; 2) The Frugalite, a website with thrifty tips and solutions to help people get a handle on their personal finances without feeling deprived; and 3) PreppersDailyNews.com, an aggregate site where you can find links to all the most important news for those who wish to be prepared. Her work is widely republished across alternative media and she has appeared in many interviews. Daisy is the best-selling author of 5 traditionally published books, 12 self-published books, and runs a small digital publishing company with PDF guides, printables, and courses at SelfRelianceand Survival.com You can find her on Facebook, Pinterest, Gab, MeWe, Parler, Instagram, and Twitter.

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cookbronze3 · 2 years

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What are the characteristics of a top online video and/or audio converter? Let's discover it together.

Online video converters are available in a wide range of formats and in a variety of locations. There are a variety of software programs and platforms you can utilize, including Adobe Creative Cloud. I only use about 3-4 of the 30 programs they offer. ytmp4 mate Dreamweaver is my favorite as do Photoshop for manipulations and images. Also, I have Audition that plays mp3s as well as Illustrator for other vector graphic tasks. I tried 2 or 3 other programs, but it's still more affordable to buy the complete package when there are many Adobe applications you can access from the cloud. Cloud arrays are cheaper if you have two users. All of these Adobe tools cannot do one thing. It's downloading videos from Youtube. It turns out that downloading Youtube videos isn't legal, but it is very unethical since it violates YouTube's Terms of Service, which they were bound to follow when they first visiting www.youtube.com or created an account on the site. Adobe and the other big software firms have valid reasons to stay clear of this market, even though there are many video conversions. Many of these converters are not supported and will become obsolete within about a month.

Keepvid is an example. Keepvid offered a website with an exclusive software bundle that included a Youtube video downloader. In a matter of weeks it was announced that all copies had been sold and all lifetime licenses were lost. It happens because software requires regular updates. As soon as Youtube adjusts something in their delivery of content, the software must be updated to accommodate the changes in Youtube.. This is the reason that I choose online converters for audio and/or video. They offer a lot of advantages compared to software. Online video converters offer numerous advantages over software. Youtube videos can usually be found online via an online converter. It is able to convert complete Youtube playlists into mp4 and MP3 files on your PC. It is possible to convert Youtube videos from mp3 or MP4 using an online converter. It's easy. You just need to enter some search parameters and discover the video you are looking for. After that, you can click on it and select the way you would like it to appear. It's easy, it's clean and fast. It also offers so much more functionality than software. I'm curious why they don't start offering their own software... Just wait..

#listen to youtube

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meaty4spicedbuns · 2 years

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YUUTA OKKOTSU - A (very) little IMAGINE

I had that sketchy story in my tumblr's files for two weeks now. I was hesitant to post it since it was just a stupid idea I had.

But since it's my birthday's boy, I'll go with why not.

Pairing : Yuuta Okkotsu x fem! Reader

Warning : none except grammatical mistake since I didn't proof-read this

Resume : you and Yuuta are really bad for making decision. Especially when it's about travel. And here is one of the reason why.

I liked writing it, so Inhope it will be like by at least one person eheh!

"We can't go there, I'm sorry princess.."

You were pointing at a city on Google map. Since you are in couple with Yuuta, you both have a really hard time making bigs decisions when it's about travelling despite the fact you both love to travel (ironic isn't it?).

So once in a month you both decide to create your little ritual. You both sat in front of the computer and stare at Google map. You click anywhere that look cool and read about it and discuss.

And to be honnest it doesn't help, but it give you some funny inside jokes and good laughs.

"Why?"

"Well..." He scratchs the back of his

His stare began to roll up and you recognized the little hidden sign of him trying to discreetly dodge the conversation by playing the mute guys. So at this point he is not saying anything more. Because, to be honnest, it happen that he discover he can't lie to you if he keep talking

. And it's cute.

Really cute.

And you love to see it.

So everytime you put him in this situation he just play the mute ostrich, stare blank at the ceiling and wait. He also blush, and this is adorably adorable.

"I've.. I've already been there..

"We've already been in Italy separately and it's didn't stopped us from going together!

"Well, and the last city you pointed out?"

He lean forward the computer screen but you put your hand on his chest to stop him. You push him away, and lean toward him. You both sat on a chairs putted next to each other, so you stick yours in front of his, up your legs on him before you put your arms around his neck.

"So?, you are smiling so hard and he can't escape you

"I've.. I've.., he is blushing harder while his stare is going for your lips to the ceiling.

"Kissing me won't stop me!, you joke, he sigh."

"You won't mock me right !"

You draw a cross on your chest with one finger, lefting the other hand up.

"Everything will stay with me.. Except if it's really embarrassing."

Your smile is big. He is full red now but he can't back up. He stare somewhere the room and said with a small voice.

"I've... I've been to pub fight.."

You don't answer anything back. You just turn around and began to tap something on the keyboard. In a second you are on a website looking for planes ticket, making Yuuta panicking.

The man grab your wrist while you keep a laugh.

"Sir had been in a pub fight?, you grín. Nobody would ever belive me if I say it!

"It-it wasn't my fault ! It was another guy!"

You stopped yourself for a second and ask seriously.

"First, did anybody ended up injured badly?

"No, we've been sent to the police station for a night.." he push his finger in his cheek while turning it and still looking away. But once he turn back at you when he realized you don't answer back he fall on you just staring, your chin resting in your hands.

"Big boy had been arrested for pub fight?

"There no fun in that! I ended up missing my flight the next day and had been obligated to wait at the airport because everybody recognized the" nippon guys who beats ten french-ten-foot-tall-guys bare hands and alone.

"The legend, the myth, yes everybody you heard me, the shy but strong boy Yuuta gonna come to beat your french ass even more!, you lift your hand and turn around to fasly tape again on the keyboard as if you were gonna look again for plane ticket.

"Nooo!"

He grab your wrists and pull then away. Then he lock an arm around your waist to put you on his laps. He is blushing of embarrassment, hiding his face in your neck.

"I've.. Received a text for a French jujutsu with whom I keep contact to know how the situation is going back there. He said he still hear about it from time to time..

"Your a legend babe.

"I'm so embarrassed..

"Will you tell me how everything turn into a fight?

"Surely not, it my little dirty secret!

"You..."

You turn around, ready to tease him but this man know your weakness and began to leave butterfly kisses in your neck while lifting you.

"Leave me down! Tell me all your secrets! You are under arrest!

"Never. I'll never talk or ill need a lawyer before! But let's talk together first shall we? I'll show you something more interesting!"

And he drag you to the bedroom closing the door behind him to keep his dirty little secrets to himself.

#jjk imagine #jujutsu kaisen #yuuta okkotsu #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #yuuta okkotsu x reader #yuuta headcanons #Yuuta okkotsu imagine #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #meaty4spicedbuns imagine #it's not much but it's honest work #Happy birthday Yuuta okkotsu eheh

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misha-moose-dean-burger-lover · 3 years

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for @bend-me-shape-me 's SPN advent calendar 2020. prompt: phone calls and late night texts.

Cas isn't a serial texter.

And Dean's a-okay with it.

But for all that's worth, they sure seem to have a ridiculous amount of emotionally significant conversations via, or starting off as, texts. And most often, in the middle of the night.

>>> hello, dean. [12:07 am]

Dean jolts up at the sound, realizing he fell asleep still wearing his headphones, with the laptop on his lap (and a new episode of The Good Place playing) and rolls his eyes at himself, hitting pause before he can see what’s happening (because he has good reflexes, and because screw spoilers that’s why) and rummaging for his phone.

At this hour of the night, it has to be something important.

It doesn’t really strike him that Mechanical Engineering majors whose only other selfprofessed skill is air guitar aren't exactly the frontline warriors for midnight emergencies.

Cas's name shows up when he squints at the too-bright screen, and he sits up a little straighter.

<<< hey [12:09 am]

<<< you OK? [12:09 am]

The response is immediate.

>>> do you have peanut butter? [12:09 am]

And as if it's an afterthought, Cas adds.

>>> yes, I'm fine. how are you? [12:10 am]

Dean blinks.

<<< peachy. peanut butter? [12:10 am]

At least this time the response takes a while. Dean wonders if Cas realized it was midnight, and not exactly a time to run inventory on your best friend's stash of condiments.

>>> I ran out. [12:12 am]

Dean sighs, unable to help smiling.

It's not like he's a stranger to Cas's weird cravings when he's high. (There'd been this one time with pie and a traumatized Gas 'N Sip cashier that still sits heavy on Dean's conscience.) But he doesn't think Cas is supposed to be high right now — Dean's usually either invited or informed by an unspoken rule — which just means this is regular "jelly, not jam"-Cas, at his core a weird, persistently sleep-deprived economics major and astronomy nerd, that Dean may or may not have had a crush on for an embarrassingly long time, and who's also prone to grammatically perfect texting, deadpan, Disney references, and bluntness when the occasion calls for it.

<<< pretty sure i have some [12:14 am]

>>> :) [12:14 am]

>>> I'm coming over [12:14 am]

And weird as it may sound, that had turned out to be the night Cas told him he was gay. Said it had been a revelating moment, unprecedented and wholly unexpected — and apparently revelations come in pairs because it had been followed by an intense need for peanut butter, and the rest, he explained emphatically, was history.

Dean had just snorted, congratulated him, and brought out the fancier plates for sandwiches — shipped in from home instead of a sale at Target — all the while, repeating to himself in a loop, that this changed nothing between them, nothing at all, and Cas having the capacity to be attracted back to him didn't mean that he ever would be (or for hell's sake, he'd scoffed at his traitorous chick-flick-nonsense brain, is.)

The second time had been early — way, way too early and it was by pure chance that Dean was awake to respond at six friggin' am on a Sunday. Like, that’s practically nighttime.

Goddamn stupidly-fit running-freak.

Dean picks up his phone blearily, tongue in cheek as he clicks on it.

>>> I miss you [6:28 am]

>>> I'd* miss you [6:29 am]

Dean's stomach twists, and he's not sure if it's in a good way, or a bad way, or what-the-sincere-fuck-are-you-talking-about way.

<<< what [6:32 am]

<<< wtf are you talking about? [6:32 am]

Nothing.

<<< cas? [6:33 am]

<<< dude [6:34 am]

<<< cas???? [6:34 am]

Dean swears at his screen, more queasy than irritated. He can't stop fidgeting, so gives up on lying down altogether and hoists himself to his feet. Better to get his friggin' toothbrush since he's already up, and now definitely awake. Cas was so paying for this later.

He comes back, mouth mint-fresh in theory but still tasting awful and of fear and dread, and practically sags when he sees his screen blare with two messages from Cas.

>>> sorry, I had to make a call. [6:42 am]

>>> I'm not taking the job. [6:42 am]

And that's how Dean finds out about Michael (Cas's oldest brother, entitled asshole) inviting Cas to join his and Lucifer's (second oldest, bag of dicks) firm the year he graduates — invite, of course, being a loosely used word here for expecting it blindly (out of some crap he calls 'loyalty') and being readily willing to manipulate him into it.

And it's how he finds out that Cas turned them down.

"It's not who I am anymore." Cas had repeated, third time probably, and surer than before, and Dean had nodded earnestly before realizing Cas couldn't see him through the phone, and humming his affirmation instead. "And if I go back there, I'm never getting out again."

Dean'd swallowed.

"I don't want to." Cas had said, voice trembling. "I am — my own person here. It shouldn't be like this but this is the first time I have autonomy, Dean. Here is free will, and here are you. I don't — I can't. I'm not going to let them take it away."

"Good." He'd sounded shaky to even himself. "Don't."

"Yes." Cas had promised. "I'm not going."

And eventually they'd moved past the heavy talk into why-didn't-I-hear-about-this-before territory, Dean being righteously annoyed at his best friend for keeping something so huge from him, and Cas making lame (but probably valid) excuses in the name of not knowing how to explain the situation until he knew himself what he was going to do, because Dean may've been the first person he'd confided in about the insane fuckery that been his childhood and adolescence, but that still didn't mean he'd understand this, broken and convoluted.

And then Cas had nicely segued himself out of Dean's target of irritation and added, "They asked Gabriel too, by the way."

"And?" Dean didn't ever have much care for Gabriel (third oldest brother, cares about Cas, still a jerk) but Cas shared an apartment with him, so he had to face him plenty.

"He's running off to Miami."

And Dean had thrown his head back and laughed until Cas had smoothly added, "And I was wondering if you would consider moving in with me."

At which point, of course, he'd started coughing instead, because holy shit, it actually made sense (Sammy had left for Stanford two months back, and Dean lived alone in a space that had probably been two big even when there were two of them) and might actually happen, but Dean wasn't really sure how much longer he'd be able to hide his crush, sharing a friggin' kitchen with the guy.

The third time's after their first date.

(Because, well. It happened.

It happened with Dean leaning across the breakfast table to prove to Cas his bacon was superior (to cookie friggin' crunch, because goddamn is Cas a dork) and Cas taking a bite with their eyes fixed on each other's, and Dean turning red when Cas licked his lips and then, just like that, Cas swearing under his breath (definitely filed for later pondering, that bit), grabbing Dean, and kissing the living daylights out of him.

And Dean had kissed back with everything he had, hands cupping his face, and nearly melting in his arms - but then they'd separated for air and Cas had had an apologetic look on his face and when Dean had tried to lean in to kiss it away, he'd received half a smile and a shake of his head.

"Let's do it the way we're supposed to."

And Dean had known immediately what he'd meant. Let's not fuck this up by becoming best friends and roommates who sleep together. Let's...play safe.

"Okay. Uh," he'd rubbed the back of his neck. "Would you like to go on a date with me?"

"Thursday." Cas had promised with twinkling eyes, though Dean had already known he was going to say that since he knew Cas’s week at least as well as he knew his own, and two days and an anxious half of a thursday later, they went on their first date. Burgers and beer, and Led Zepp, and hands held in the Impala. Four hours later, they were back, and in their respective rooms, and Dean couldn't stop thinking about Cas.)

When his phone vibrates, Dean reaches for the bedside table.

It's at least midnight, it feels like he's been in bed for ages, and the only reason he isn't asleep is because all his brain seems to be capable of at the moment is thinking endlessly about the date. Fortunately, he's not the only one — although he's better at hiding it (practise, he'd say) because his heart is in his mouth the moment he reads Cas's text.

>>> I think I'm falling in love with you [11:43 pm]

>>> already. [11:43 pm]

Dean is very grateful for autocorrect as he types back with too-excited thumbs and a racing heart.

<<< so much for doing it the regular way cas mosby [11:44 pm]

>>> in my defense, it's been years. [11:44 pm]

<<< that part i get [11:44 pm]

<<< me too [11:44 pm]

<<< but youre supposed to wait three days before calling dumbass [11:45 pm]

Jesus, he'd never expected to blush cause of texts, but here they are.

>>> I'm texting. [11:46 pm]

And he guesses he'd never expected to giggle (he's alone there, sue him) cause of them either, but Cas apparently exists to prove him wrong about himself.

<<< good for you [11:46 pm]

He sends, biting his lip, and then lies in the silent darkness for a couple of minute, devoid of text notifications entirely, thinking uneasily — before he gives up.

They're idiots, sure, but nobody is this dumb.

<<< so when the fuck are you coming over then [11:50 pm]

>>> on my way <3 [11:50 pm]

And thinking about the lightening speed of that reply and the fucking heart emoji is enough to sustain him the entire one minute it takes Cas to get there, gently opening Dean's door, and climbing into bed — fitting in Dean's space like it's been made for him, and kissing him in greeting after leaving his phone on the table next to Dean's.

As it goes, with the confessions and the midnight cravings (and the grocery lists that keep getting piled onto through the day, and random pickup lines Cas decides are perfect to send Dean daily once he's found a website for puns, courtesy of Claire, and of course, pictures of Grease, which clog Dean's cloud in dozens whenever the ridiculously cute cat does something even slightly out of routine, god bless her lazy soul) Cas might just be a texter.

But Dean's pretty sure he's more than okay with it, so it doesn't really matter.

#spnadventcalendar2020 #destiel #destiel college au #casdean #dean is bi #texting fic #destiel fluff #best friends to lovers #+ roommates :))#deancas au #young dean winchester #young castiel #bluefirecas #rambleoncas #tearsofgrace #userpris #oh writing my writing #i had fun writing this :)#college aus almost feel like my roots at this point

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softluci · 3 years

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hello yes can i just say i l o v e d your gen z hcs and may i acquire more

for starters, i am not religious, but i am PRAYING you don’t think i was ignoring your ask. i’ve been thinking about it since i got it, it’s just that i’m a college student with worms for brains, so hopefully you understand. this is something that i’ve had on my mind for a long time [i’ve been at this on and off for months], and it most definitely can be associated with/attributed to gen z.

for a fleeting, wonderful period of time, there was a trend on tiktok that went, “buss it, buss it…” are you familiar?

that should be enough of a summary, right? ah—for future reference, “o7” is like a saluting emote, for anyone who might not know. reader is g/n as usual, enjoy!

[a/n: so because this is so long, this part is going to be, like, the lore, and then the actual headcanons will be right here]

trendy

the two things most corrosive to the human spirit are easily named—capitalism and boredom. while it would be easier and less taxing to explain the former, the latter was the problem at hand. it’s not that there was nothing to do in the devildom—quite the opposite, actually—it was just that you wanted some time to yourself every now and again. the trouble with trying to take time for yourself in a completely new location, the residents of which are always enamored with you in one way or another, is that there isn’t anything to do. the house was full of adventures for you to take—the trap door under the rug in the library, the other trap door under the dining room table, the small door behind the couch in the living room, and whatever other poorly hidden doors your seven roommates thought you didn’t know about.

trouble was, you didn’t want to leave your room. you, intelligent creature that you are, knew that the chances of you running into mammon or satan or beel or asmo were all too high, and even higher were the chances of you agreeing to spend time with them if they asked, and you knew they would. what were you to do?

you stared at your ceiling from your bed, d.d.d. resting on your stomach as you let your mind wander. your d.d.d. was full of things for you to do, the devildom’s ethernet at your fingertips, but you weren’t interested in finding new things right now. you wanted something familiar, like—like your phone.

what was the point of lucifer taking your phone, anyway? it’s not like you could use it—being here rendered it a useless brick of glass and metal, so it wouldn’t have been a big deal if you still had it. it was funny, though, that you couldn’t use your actual phone when it was still possible to access the human internet from down here.

at least, you assumed so.

how else would levi be able to keep up with his human idols, get tickets for their shows—the works, you know? luckily, you were fully capable of asking.

d.d.d. now in your hand, you rolled onto your stomach and found your messages with levi, nails clacking against the glass as you tried to reach him.

hey, you texted, can you help me with something?

his reply came faster than you expected: ?? what do you need

how do i access human websites and apps, you asked, rolling onto your side. you know how to, right?

lololol, it’s not possible :p

a grunt, more aggravated than you’d care to admit, escaped from the back of your throat.

don’t lie.

a few minutes passed with no response, and you wondered if you were too harsh.

“he’s a sensitive guy,” you mumbled, inhaling deeply. “i probably came on too strong or something.”

just as you started typing out an apology and a, “forget i ever said anything,” you got a response.

a vpn and a proxy site.

a smile crept onto your face as air came out of your nose, the closest thing to a laugh you could muster.

can you set it up for me?

after another few minutes of no response, you sit up, wondering how you could’ve possibly fucked up a second time, your d.d.d. buzzed.

levi sent you a file and a link, with a host of instructions.

click on the file and it’ll take you to the vpn you need to download. don’t worry about bugs or anything, i made it myself.

you let out a low whistle, flopping onto your back once more.

“this guy gets up to more than i thought,” you said, eyebrows raised. “someone get this man some physical affection.”

you continued to read, growing more fond of him with each sentence.

once you install it, pick the country whose network you want access to. from there, you’ll have a list of that country’s most used applications available for you. again, don’t worry about bugs.

what’s the link for? you asked, excitement getting the better of you.

for when you download internet applications. it’s added security, paste the link in before you search anything or you’ll trigger the firewall alarm.

you blinked.

you’ll trigger the what?

i’ll trigger the fucking What?

levi’s response was the fastest one yet: the Fucking Firewall Alarm. barbatos’ design. he has no idea i know how to bypass it. just do what i said. don’t try to solve any potential issues on your own, come to me for everything.

roger that o7, you replied, thanks levi ^_^

yeah, yeah. come to my room for a hxh binge tomorrow night.

you snorted. what a fucking nerd—in the greatest way possible.

of course bestie :] ily

ily2 normie -_-

in his room, unbeknownst to you, levi felt like he made a mistake of some kind. it’s not that he didn’t trust you, it’s just that you had a tendency to end up in undesirable situations, even if it wasn’t always on purpose. he was probably just worried over nothing, or so he tried to tell himself, but whatever. this isn’t even about him.

you sat up once more, this time leaning against your pillows as you started setting everything up. everything went so quickly that you barely wondered if all of this—subverting hell’s firewall, personally designed by a man eerily similar to a 2D crush from when you were in middle school—was worth accessing a few silly apps from the human world.

a few minutes later, your d.d.d. now a much, much cooler copy of your phone, any and all thoughts of regret and hesitation were absent from your mind.

your first order of business on your upgraded d.d.d. was logging into your tiktok account, however surprising it was that you even remembered the password. you put your headphones in and adjusted your volume, going back into the dumpster fire that is your for-you page with open arms.

after around half an hour of stifled laughter and small, offended gasps from being targeted by the algorithm, you came across a rare dancing video. the person on your screen was in casual clothes, making minor, silly dance movements as the music dwindled, only for them to drop into a squat in time with the music, suddenly dolled up. you shot forward, taken aback by their transformation and by their dancing post beat drop. did you watch it on a loop for a few minutes? well, that’s nobody’s business but yours. you clicked on the sound in hopes of finding similar videos, and much to your relief, there were plenty. about ten videos in, a smile still on your face, you got an idea.

you slipped your headphones out, arbitrarily looking around your room, before whispering to yourself, “i could—i could do that. i could totally do that.”

and you were right. you had nice clothes and makeup from various shopping occasions with asmo. your room had led strips, courtesy of levi ordering the wrong ones and being so kind as to give them to you. you could do it.

levi was the only person you’d spoken to since you retreated to your room a few hours ago, and the lights have been off the entire time, which meant that if you worked quietly enough, everyone else had reason enough to assume you were asleep. good! how could you possibly explain what you were doing getting all dolled up at, like, 11:00 on a wednesday night? you couldn’t, even a little bit—not in a way that convinced anyone, anyway.

come midnight, you were sitting cross legged on your bed, watching your final product. not to be vain or anything, but you were looking very respectfully at yourself. since when could you move like that, anyway? the wonders of being alone, you supposed.

you didn’t post it publicly, electing to save it as a draft just so it would save to your d.d.d. maybe you’d post it once you were back in the human world, when your friends wouldn’t swarm your comments asking where the fuck you were.

yeah, lucifer told you, “everything was taken care of,” but regardless of whether or not you believed him, you knew it wasn’t a good idea to risk finding out if he missed something.

boredom creeping up on you again, you elected to go through the messages on your d.d.d. it would be better to make yourself laugh before you were fully bored again, right? you stood up and stretched, opening the group text with the adults. luke doesn’t know about it; he thinks the one with everyone is the main one, and everyone lets him think that so he feels included.

walking around your room in small circles, you scrolled up to the older conversations and read through them, rolling your eyes and chuckling to yourself. very rarely did they talk about anything of importance. it was mostly diavolo, barbatos, and simeon making quips and jokes at lucifer’s expense for everyone to see. it was gold in its purest form.

you contemplated sending one of the many cursed things sitting in your camera roll, just to keep them on their toes, but just after opening your gallery, you resigned not to, figuring it would be best to leave him alone.

you stretched again, the hold on your d.d.d. a bit looser this time. it nearly slipped out of your hands, but you caught it, tossing it onto your bed. as soon as you resigned to start getting ready for bed, you turned back around and picked it up.

there was no rhyme or reason to your actions; if someone in that moment were to ask you why you did it, you would’ve said, “just ‘cause.”

human intuition is a wonderful thing.

your d.d.d. was still on, still open to the group chat. you’d sent something, evidently a second ago, as indicated by the time stamp. the thumbnail was of you, in casual clothing—the casual clothing you were wearing before you got dolled up, actually. huh.

huh.

the weight of your mistake came crashing down on you in full force, a chill sinking into your skin and running up your spine.

you were suddenly acutely aware of the concept of time, how it was of the essence and you had absolutely none to waste.

what were you to do? it wouldn’t be long before your favorite person saw it. you had to do something.

you could say nothing. you could tell the truth and say it was an accident and that you were embarrassed, but that was even worse than saying nothing because it meant you were set to be the target of teasing you didn’t even wanna try to imagine. you could say it was an accident and be confident about it, telling them, “enjoy!” but that was a dangerous game to play, and you knew it.

well, i do admire you for taking time to think, but, unfortunately, there was a checkmark next to your message. oh, a number as well—eleven. you just can’t catch a break. what were they all doing up at this time, anyway? it was a school night🤨.

#FUCK #this took FOREVER im so glad im done #one day i'm gonna know how to write consistently i promise #i hope u enjoy!#obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me!#obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me asmodeus #obey me beel #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphie #obey me belphegor

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jarofstyles · 4 years

Text

You Again

A/N: Hello! We’re so happy to be posting the first of many one shots to this blog. We have a lot of goodies lined up and coming soon and we’re really excited to be sharing with you all! If you’d like, feel free to follow us to make sure you’re up to date on anything we post :) enjoy!

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masterlist

pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

warnings: age gap (23/36), alludes to smut

word count: 6.4k

He should have gotten her number.

That thought had been circling his mind for the past year since this stupid speed dating event he had gone to. She was a younger girl, Y/N, her name was. She had been the only one to grab his interest truly, and they’d both laughed off the prospect of dating because, well-- she was 22, and he was 35. That was a major age difference and neither of them were into that. Or so it seemed.

He didn’t get her number.

They’d had a good conversation about how awkward this stuff was, they’d laughed all 10 minutes of the speed date before saying farewell and at the time, Harry ignored the little twinge in his chest that sprouted when she had left him to go talk to someone else. He had figured it was because he thought she was fun to talk to. Now, after many failed blind dates set up by his mother with snooty or money-hungry heiresses, he was looking for something real. Something born out of a connection. Not a fat wallet. And as much as he had tried to deny it in the past, Y/N had been the only one he had felt that with.

He searched for her on Facebook, a website he only used for looking at cat pictures and videos of food he would never make, looking for Y/N’s in the area. He didn’t think there were that many.

That led him back at the place where it all started, this stupid fucking speed dating event that landed him in this mess. He wasn’t sure what he was thinking. Part of him was hoping he would see her by chance, or maybe someone else that would light up his heart. Naturally, Harry was disappointed to walk in before it started. Y/N wasn’t there-- and yeah, he knew it was a long shot. She was a young, beautiful, sexy and intelligent woman. It wouldn’t surprise him if she had been scooped up and had a child on the way already.

It filled him with a sadness he couldn’t describe, not having his own family yet. He wanted children so badly, wanted a wife to come home and kiss. His house was too big to be alone. Harry had known what he wanted. A year to be selfish and take up all of his woman’s time, and then babies. Whatever type of marriage ceremony she wanted, he wanted a wife to love on and kiss, to make love to and be silly with.

He looked down at his phone and sighed, scrolling through emails when he heard a familiar voice. Soft and distinct to him-- no fucking way. There was no way.

“Hi, sorry I’m late! I got caught up in traffic and I had to rush over here... did you already start? Is there room for me?” Y/N asked the organizers kindly, knowing they worked so very hard on these events and that lateness was probably not the most tolerated. She had offered up a gentle smile as they told her she’d made it just in time, ushering her over to a table that already had someone sat at it.

Y/N couldn’t lie and say she didn’t come here without purpose. It’s been about a year since she had last been to one of these events and she still thought about what it would have been like to actually date him-- Harry. In their brief 10 minutes together, she gathered that he was ready to settle down, he had his life already together. At the time, it all seemed too quick for her, the idea of having a family at the ripe age of 22. She thought that dating a man who was so set in his ways would mean she didn’t have freedom anymore, but what had really changed in a year? Her mother was still pestering her about having grandchildren, all her friends were getting married. She was still the same Y/N, she still wanted the same things. Sure he was older, 12 years to be exact, but they were both adults! They’d gotten along well! They’d had a good laugh and he wasn’t unattractive either— she so blindly shrugged him off because she thought he wouldn’t want someone so young. Come to think of it, he was a great fit for her and she blew it. Instead, she spent a whole year going on shitty dates, horrible horrible dates that made her want to give up on anything at all. Maybe this little speed date thing would bring her luck again. Just one guy who gave her the same vibe Harry did and she’d be okay.

Funny, if she didn’t know any better she’d think this guy sat at the table she was walking towards was Harry. Dark brown hair, the broad shoulders. The outfit was a bit more eccentric though, that she wasn’t really expecting, but Y/N really wasn’t one to judge. She had grown up a lot in a year, had figured out what she really wanted, she wouldn’t be making the same silly mistake twice.

“Hi, sorry to keep you waiting.” She spoke in an apologetic tone, but it wasn’t until she got settled in and looked up at the man sitting across the table that she realized that it was, in fact, Harry who was sat there. Y/N’s eyes went wide, noticing he had a similar expression on his face.

“You again?”

“Fucks sake!” He smiled, leaning forward on the table. “It really is you. Wow...” He took her in. She had grown considerably and he loved it. She was more professional-looking, seemed to have more of her life together. But he was overjoyed. “I can’t believe I found you again! I was trying to find you on Facebook... Do you know how many Y/N’s there are in this city? A stupid amount.” He muttered. “But wow... I didn’t expect to find you here. I was hoping, I mean.” He felt giddy with energy. He had found that he was more excited than he had ever anticipated. “I kept thinking about you since last time. I think I made a mistake.” He said softly. “Not getting your number and laughing off the possibility due to an age difference. That’s my mistake.”

“I mean, maybe it would have helped if I had a Facebook.” Y/N laughed a bit, “but that’s really sweet... Why didn’t you call the organizers? They probably have my information on file.” She hadn’t bothered finding him because well, he was much older and she assumed he wasn’t really looking for her but he’d been looking for her. This whole time.

“I did, they said they weren’t allowed to give out information for safety purposes. I understand that much.” He was glad she wouldn’t be in danger because he had met some crazies when he came last time, that wasn’t her. It was weird. But now, he was hoping that they could continue where they’d left off. “Want to go then?” He asked, looking at her with an amused smirk. “What? There’s no point in being here if we want to just talk to one another. There’s a coffee shop just a few doors down.” He nodded his head towards the door.

Y/N was shocked at his suggestion, but then again she really did remember him always knowing what he wanted. She looked at him with a raised brow for a moment, deciding fuck it. She had gotten back up, blushing as she waved over to the organizers and told them that she’d found what she was looking for. She really had.

----

Y/N got herself a panini and a coffee, paying for it before he even had the chance to offer because who said this date had to end here? Besides, she didn’t want him to think she expected him to pay, she could afford lunch for herself. They’d sat down at a table by the window, a nice cushioned booth for two. It was cute. Y/N had moved the sunglasses up onto her head and pulled her hair back behind her shoulders, looking at him with a curious gaze as he observed her.

“What? Haven’t changed that much, have I?”

“No. You just look as though you’ve grown quite a bit. In maturity, I mean. You have the air of someone who is put together. Last time I saw you...” Harry could see her confusion. “You looked more hesitant. More unsure. Now you seem to know what you want. It’s a good thing.” He smiled at her. She was so cute. He was incredibly attracted to her but that wasn’t a surprise. She was beautiful and had pink lips and big eyes and curves. Beautiful. Sure it was a bit soon to think about but, he was sure they’d make fantastic children together. Curly hair and soft little noses. He could only hope they’d get her nose.

“Yeah? Feel like I have. Tried to figure things out, haven’t exactly had the most success.” They both hadn’t clearly. It was nice for Y/N to hear from someone who hadn’t seen her in a year that she had grown up and matured a bit. 22 to 23 was a bigger step than most people believed. Last time they spoke, they had bonded over the fact that both their mothers were looking for them to find partners. They had both been searching for different reasons, but Y/N felt like she had spoken too soon. He wanted a family and a wife to love fairly soon and now that she had a whole year to think about it, Y/N wouldn’t be opposed to being a wife with a family fairly soon.

“How have you been? I’d like to know what you’ve been up to. How your writing has been. You write about home goods, yes?” Harry smiled widely as he settled into his seat, waiting for his coffee and muffin to come to them.

“I’ve been well.” Y/N laughed, shaking her head when he commented about how she wrote about home goods. “Yeah, I’ve um.. I’ve extended my blog page. Been doing well as far as posting goes, have a few brands that consistently work with me.” Y/N nodded with a smile, “Speaking of which, if it’s good here I might just post about it.”

“Yeah?” He was trying to read her. She seemed comfortable enough with him but this was technically a first date type of thing, so he was hoping that she would want to go on more. “That’s amazing. I’m glad that you’ve been able to expand. I’ve been wondering what you’ve been up to. To be honest... assumed that you would have been snatched up by now. I’m very surprised that you haven’t been but truthfully, m’ glad.” His lips quirked up. “Gives me my own chance.”

“You flatter me.” Y/N shook her head, knowing full well had he had just been kissing her ass a bit. Sure, she was an attractive young woman, but to think she’d been snatched up by now? She hadn’t been so hopeful. “Though, I can say the same about you.” Y/N blushed, keeping eye contact this time so he knew she was flirting. She knew she could be bad at it at times.

“Has your mother calmed down on trying to get you to date?” He questioned, leaning on his elbows and planting his chin on his joined hands. “Mine certainly hasn’t, but they were god awful. Swear she doesn’t have a good personal radar.”

“My mother cannot be stopped.” Y/N snorted out a laugh, “She’s just... she is setting me up with just about anyone really, just wants me to hurry up and fall in love. She wants grandkids.” Y/N explained, knowing he would understand. Her mom was older than most moms of girls her age, probably much closer to his mom’s age. She wanted grandkids soon. “It’s a shame... but I can’t say I’m too upset with the outcome now. Happy we can at least take things into our own hands.” She took a sip of her coffee. He was very attractive. She couldn’t believe she passed this up last time.

“Me too.” He was beyond happy that Y/N ended up around him. She had taken up a chunk of his brain for a long while. He hadn’t gone full force and asked people to find her because part of him felt as if it was in the stars, then it would happen. And it did. So he was positive now that he needed to try this out. “I understand that. I’ve been on a few and I’ve been so confused as to why my mother set me up with particular people... it made no sense at all. But I had to admit I did compare them to you a bit. I knew I had made a mistake a day or so after the speed dating round the first time, not getting your number at least.” He adjusted in the seat, putting his phone face down on the table after getting a work notification. All his attention was in her. “I have to be honest with you and say ideally I’d like marriage and children in the next 5 or so years.” Ideally as soon as possible. “Look... I know this is an intense conversation for us the first time we truly go somewhere, but I don’t want to waste your time if that isn’t something you’re looking for. You’re a bit younger than me and I know sometimes people want to live fully and then settle down but, I am old.” He joked. “I’ve been wanting a wife and a child desperately. Ultimately it would be up to you whenever a child would come but... I want to make sure we are on similar pages here.”

Y/N was, of course, a bit spooked when he had so casually brought up how he wants to be married and have kids within the next 5 years. She had expected it, knew it was coming. She thought about it before they even met each other again, but hearing it so straight up like that was a bit terrifying. He could surely see it in her eyes.

“It’s not that... it’s not that it’s not something I’m looking for, I am. It’s just very intimidating.” Y/N explained, taking another sip of her coffee. She hoped that he could understand that. It was a lot to think about being married with kids within the next five years, but she would like that. “And it’s not that it isn’t realistic, of course, you wouldn’t be wasting my time as I wouldn’t be wasting yours... I was afraid of it at first but then I thought about it and well, I’ve never been the type to want to live ‘fully’... I review candles and home goods for a living, I think I’m a bit past living that party life.” Y/N joked.

“It’s alright. I’ve been told that I’m a bit intimidating before because I know what I want.” He smiled sheepishly. “But it is a waste if I'm not upfront with you, in my opinion. You deserve the respect of my honesty.” Harry lived in a world with businessmen being fake and he wasn’t one of them. He was straight up and it intimidated people because he would often say how he felt and if he felt someone was being a liar, he would say so openly. He opened deals with what he wanted. Full stop. But he found that's how he ended up being so successful. Even if it scared them, they appreciated the honesty. “I just needed to tell you first, before we hopefully dig into the fleshier bits. I’m interested in you, Y/N. If I hadn’t made that clear before.” He took her hand in his on the table and squeezed it. It was so small compared to his. “All I ask for is honesty in feelings. If you feel as though I’m asking too much or making you genuinely uncomfortable, please let me know.”

His hand taking hers surprised her but she relaxed, trying to calm herself and realize that this was a good thing. This was something she had wanted for so long! She had been thinking about him for a year nearly, why was she so damn scared? Y/N understood his sense of urgency, she just wasn’t used to men being so direct. That’s what she wanted wasn’t it? Why was she scared? Maybe it was a fear of commitment? She had done things on her own for so long, it was hard to think about giving in to a man sometimes.

“You’re not doing any of those things, I promise,” Y/N told him and rubbed her thumb over his hand. “I understand where you’re coming from and it isn’t so much you as it is me, a classic line, I know.” She shook her head and sighed. “I do like you Harry, but I am not one to rush. So I’m sorry if I seem a bit stiff, I don’t do well with being vulnerable.”

“Hey... that’s okay. There isn’t a rush. I just want there to be no lies. No hidden agendas.” He could understand why she was confused at his blunt nature. “A lot of men like to play games. I’ve found that those aren’t fun unless they’re in the bedroom. Being upfront is what has worked for me.” He shrugged simply. Like he didn’t just say something about the bedroom. He hadn’t had sex in like, 2 years. He used to have someone he hooked up with but that wasn’t happening anymore after she had gotten a bit too attached and Harry couldn’t see past sex with her. It wasn’t what he wanted. He was clear in the beginning. But Y/N, she was someone he could see being close to out of the bedroom and inside. He had his curiosities but wouldn’t ask them yet. To be polite. “Why do you suffer with vulnerability, if I may ask?”

Y/N wasn’t expecting him to be so upfront. No one really asked her these types of questions, especially men who were interested in her. It was a positive sign, a green flag as opposed to the many red ones she had seen in her past ventures of finding love.

“I haven’t exactly had the best experiences in the past with relationships, built up a skin of sorts. I just... need a bit to warm up is all.” It really had to do with trust at the end of the day. It was strange to have a man who was so open, she knew it wasn’t his fault that she had all these past patriarchal beliefs. It felt like he was too good to be true, she needed to get to know him better to know if he was being serious. She wanted to believe him and she would, that wouldn’t change the fact that she was a bit weary though.

“That’s alright. We can work on that.” Harry smiled. “I think there’s a reason that I’ve been thinking about you for a whole year, Y/N. There has to be.” He informed her of his thoughts. “You’re lovely. I think we could be a very beautiful couple in time. But I would like to date you. Take you out a few times, if that’s alright with you?” He knew that she was going to take a bit of work to get to trust him, but he figured it would be worth it all in the end if they ended up together. “What does your schedule look like?” He questioned. He wanted to get a feel on when they could have dates. He would plan very fun ones. Besides a coffee every so often but their first date would be fun. They could do something maybe a bit childish and let her guard go down so he could see more of how she truly is.

“Of course... um..” Y/N pulled away from his hand and went to get her phone out to open up her calendar app. It definitely was a little nerve wracking but Y/N knew she couldn’t back down. She was sitting here on this date just fine! He didn’t give her a weird vibe. He was just excited, as was she. In different ways, but excited nonetheless. “I’m available almost always because of my job, I sort of plan to do my work around my activities for the week so... if you would let me know in advance I could work something out most times.” Perks of being an influencer. Y/N made good money, took care of herself well. Hopefully, Harry could get her to come out of her shell a bit, and maybe she’d help mellow him out in a good way.

“Would you be open to going out tomorrow?” He questioned. “I work during the day most days but, I have the ability to take off if you’d rather do something during the day.” He was the boss and could do what he wanted, basically. If Y/N preferred to go out during the day then he would. But he could reserve a lane at the bowling alley he was thinking of bringing her to for tomorrow night. It was a Saturday night so it would be busy but he had a feeling it could get her to relax a little bit. He was hoping she would agree.

“Tomorrow?” Y/N asked and looked down at her schedule, “Um, yeah, tomorrow sounds good.” She said with a nod. She was excited and a little nervous. Y/N knew she should at least tell someone she was going on a date, for safety reasons, but maybe she’d just briefly mention it. She didn’t want to jinx anything. “Here..” Y/N spoke, handing him her phone so he could put in his name and number. “Text yourself so you get my number.” She smiled, deciding that finally after a year, it was appropriate that they finally got each other’s numbers.

----

Even though Harry had made the date sound lowkey, she still wanted to be properly prepared just in case things got... steamy. Y/N made sure her entire apartment was spotless and she had taken one of those long showers, she even made sure her sheets were fresh. What? It had been a while and he was hot… they’d had a whole year of anticipation, it could happen!

Harry texted Y/N for her address, wanting to pick her up. It was proper. Even though they truly weren’t that far apart, he wanted to be a gentleman. There weren’t many of them in this day and age and Harry was looking forward to showing Y/N that he could be one for her. He wore a simple outfit. A patterned button-up and leather jacket along with jeans. People would never expect he was a CEO but he liked to play with fashion sometimes. It was a fun pastime. Especially when brands were eager to send rich people their clothing apparently. He pulled outside of her house in the Range Rover today. It was a pretty basic car and he knew it wouldn’t be too flashy. He also brought extra socks just in case she didn’t, bowling barefoot was a no go. This bowling alley was 50’s themed, a drive out, about 25 minutes. He hoped she would be okay with that. He got out of the car with the flowers in hand. Daisies. He had chosen daisies for her. Roses would scare her a little, he thought, so this was a fun and memorable gesture.

Y/N was feeling super giddy as she buzzed Harry in, making sure all the final touches were complete. He wasn’t going to be in her place for long but, she wanted to be sure that everything was perfect. It was a bit of pressure she felt with him being that much older. Realistically she knew it was nothing to worry about, that he wasn’t really that old, but she was an only child, she struggled with that concept. Hearing the knock on the door she smiled, walking over and gasping a bit when she saw the flowers.

“Hi— are these?” She looked up at him and then back at the flowers as if she was unsure. Who else would they be for? “That’s so sweet.” Y/N cooed and waved him inside. She gave him a hug, heat rising to her cheeks at the kiss he pressed to it. “Let me put these in a vase and we can get going. I’ll be quick! Make yourself a home.”

“Hi love, ‘Course.” He has done well with the flowers. Harry felt like a lot of men her age didn’t bother with flowers or little gifts but it was something he wanted to do with his woman. “Your place is lovely.” It was. It was roomy and decorated beautifully. Clean but still looked lived in. That was something he couldn’t wait to acquire. He wanted this type of home. His home looked so sterile that even he felt uneasy sitting in the living room. She looked beautiful too. In her little outfit that was simple and yet; so classy on her. “You look beautiful as well.” He smiled when she approached him. “I love the look. I hope you’re okay with a different type of first date.” He smiled. Bowling and a pub after weren’t traditional.

“Yeah? I’m glad you like it.” She worked really hard on decorating it after all. Y/N had found a pretty little vase for the flowers, making sure the water wasn’t too cold or hot before she set them on her kitchen counter where she’d see them the most often. “Thank you.” She hummed, “but no, I don’t mind. Anything works for me.” Y/N has been on so many shitty dates that at this point she was willing to take anything. Anything could top the time she went out to a steakhouse with a guy who ended up vomiting on her. Harry was already proving to be better than the others, but she hoped she wasn’t speaking too soon. She took his hand after locking the door behind her, following him on their way down to his car. “How was your day?” Y/N did want to know. These would be questions she’d ask on a daily basis. He relaxed slightly when she placed a hand on him. For some reason, her touch made him feel at ease. She was so easily able to make him react by touches and he wondered why that was.

“Was alright. Worked a lot. I was excited to see you, to be honest.” He admitted, squeezing her hand as they left the door. He had been so distracted, checking his phone every hour or so. It was odd for him. He wasn’t ever normally like this. She appealed to him so much. He opened the car door for her, holding her hand as she climbed in. Making sure she was settled, he closed the door and went to his side. God, he was excited. Not too nervous because he felt like they had been placed together for a reason. “The place is around 25 minutes away if you’d like to send a friend the location you can.” He was understanding that they could do that on the phone. He had never done it but he knew his niece did.

“What are you planning on kidnapping me?” She teased, but knew she was going to do it anyway. Not that she thought anything would go wrong, but just so her friends knew she was safe and sound for their own peace of mind.

“How was your day?” He questioned. Y/N was fun to listen to. Genuinely, he loved hearing what she had to say. Her voice was soothing and warm and she was good at keeping conversations going. That’s what made him relax further. It was almost time to arrive at their destination and he felt excitement in his stomach. He hoped she would appreciate the element of surprise. He knew it would be eating at him but she was easier on the questions and seemed to trust him on where they were going.

“My day? It was pretty average. Took some photos, tried out a new recipe for some raspberry swirl brownies. I have a bunch leftover, should have given you some to try.” Y/N pouted, “Maybe later though. When you drop me off.” She was already inviting him back? Maybe. Who knows, she assumed things would go well. Harry was extremely attractive, there was no denying it. If he kept treating her the way he was and if she had a few drinks in her she’d surely suggest more. Y/N wasn’t exactly the boldest unless she had some drinks in her, but even then she was pretty tame. Sexy wasn’t really her speciality, felt like she was pretty mellow and average. “Bowling?” Y/N asked with a smile, “did not take you for the bowling type.” She couldn’t believe this was where he was taking her. “Can’t wait to whoop your ass.” She giggled as she hopped out of the car, going to meet him around the front. Y/N took his hand and let him lead the two inside. This was great already. He was relieved when he saw the spring in her step. She was excited! He had done something right in guessing she would be a fan of this. Next date, he had something in mind already.

“Hi... reservation for Harry.” He smiled at the bored teenage clerk. He obviously wasn’t happy about working a Saturday and he could understand that. When asked his shoe size, Harry gave it to him before turning to his date. “What’s the shoe size for you, sweetheart?” He asked, letting go of her hand so he could grab the shoes and hand his card over. He loved that she was excited, leaning into him.

She’d changed into her shoes quite easily, slipping off her leather jacket and placing it to the side before pulling her hair up. “It’s game time.” Y/N teased, noticing how there was a little bottle of wine and snacks there as well. This was really cute and thoughtful. “I haven’t been bowling in ages, but I’m very competitive.” She warned him, “feel like we should place a little bet as well... make things more exciting.” Y/N knew it would be something silly and doable.

“Oh?” He raised a brow as he placed his jacket down on the chairs. He was curious to see what wager she would want to play with but he wouldn’t mind at all. Seeing as Y/N was an interesting little thing in general, he was hopeful to see what she would do. “What are you thinking of betting on? I am both concerned and curious, by the look on your face.” He had been planning on letting her win but it deepened now on the terms of the winning and losing bets. “I am quite good at bowling, little miss. So choose wisely.” He walked over to the little machine they could put their names into that kept score. “Lay it on me then.”

“If you win, you get to kiss me at the end of the game.... and if I win, then you get to kiss me at the end of the night.” Y/N felt like that was a perfect little wager. Regardless she was going to kiss him, but it was all a matter of when. She didn’t mind either way, but it would add some tension and of course she wanted to see just how badly he wanted to kiss her. Harry typed in their names setting his as simply H and hers as bunny. “Cute.” She giggled, looking at the different sizes of bowling balls they had and checking which best fit her fingers and brought two of them over to the machine. She went first, having had a lucky shot. She knocked nearly all the pins right away, her second shot managing to clear the whole set.

“Look at you!” He laughed, clapping at her little victory dance. She was good. Either way he was guaranteed a kiss so he was very happy-- however, was eager for it. He watched her skip back with a little tongue poking out to tease him. “Alright, alright. Champion bowler over here.” He grinned, putting the ball into his hands as it was his turn. Of course, he cleared all the pins the first try. For some reason, he was very good at bowling. Not at basketball or baseball. He was good at soccer and football but it varies. Harry laughed at her pout, moving about so she could go ahead and play her next round. She hadn’t asked where they were going after the bowling was done but he was excited. The whole night was going to be fun. Even now, he had a feeling it was going to be one of the best he’s had in a long time.

“Don’t get too cocky.” Y/N narrowed her eyes a little bit, getting up to go for her turn. This time she was determined to get a strike, focusing. She took a deep breath, doing a little meditation before winding up and letting it go. And she did it! Y/N turned around with a little giggle, flipping her hair over her shoulder even though it was pulled up. She had walked over to eat some of the snacks, taking a sip of the wine he had poured out for her. It was delicious. She was excited, this seemed like a very promising date already. Y/N did feel a little giddy every time he did well, but she wanted to try her best to beat him just for optimum teasing. Y/N had no idea there was a second part of the date, so she thought the end of the night would likely come a lot sooner. They were playing three rounds though, so surely they’d know who won by the end of it.

The thing is, he would have let her win. He really would have, but he wanted a kiss. Her teasing and poking her tongue out at him, their banter back and forth, it made him happy and he wanted to taste her. Her mouth was gorgeous. Lips plump and pretty, glossy. He wanted to kiss. It had been so long since he had a proper kiss, and he punched the air in victory once the final score showed he had won by 15 points. Y/N has scowled playfully, but he could see the blush on her cheeks. She was irritated about being kissed, and he loved that.

“Let’s go to the car.” He pulled his belongings back in his hold, their bowling shoes deposited back on the front bench as they walked towards the car. “I woooon.” He grinned, popping his things in the back seat and tucking the phone back into his pocket, not unlocking the front doors yet. He came in front of her, hooking a hand on her waist, the other on her jaw.

“Gonna let me have my prize?”

Y/N felt her heart rate pick up instantly, eyes wide as they scanned his own. She nodded her head with a small hum of agreement, leaning into his hand while she waited for his lips to lock on hers. Her whole body felt like it was on fire, desperate for him to finally just lean in and kiss her. This kiss was a whole year in the making, she knew there was no way it couldn’t be good.

“Good.” He didn’t wait, leaning in and taking what he wanted. It’s how he had been his whole life and he had no regrets, pressing his lips to hers. Immediately he knew he had made the right decision. His body was warm with delight, kissing her gently but having a firm grip on her. He didn’t know how far was too far but he knew she would hint at it. When she melted into his grip, his kiss became a bit deeper and pushed her farther up against the car door. Licking at her lower lip in an attempt of getting her to open a bit, he was pleased to hear a hum of approval come from her throat. A full kiss, Y/N was rewarding him with. Tasting sweet, he never wanted to stop. His body was electric at her touch, Feeling her lean into him and her tongue slick against his, he loved kissing her. It would be difficult now to go to sleep without replaying this.

It was definitely the best kiss she’d ever had. It was passionate and hot and exactly what she had needed after feeling so damn hopeless for so long. Butterflies erupted in her stomach, even her cunt was fluttering a bit with the way his tongue was moving against hers. Y/N had completely melted for him. Her hand had moved up to wrap around his wrist, her other moving to the back of his neck to keep him there. She really didn’t want him to move. It felt like the world had stopped moving and she was no longer thinking about their age gap or what was going to happen between them. All she was thinking about was how good he made her feel.

“Gotta stop, bunny. I’ll get too worked up and.. I’d like to be decent when we get to our next place.” He murmured. Her arms were still around his neck and he liked that, but she blinked at him in confusion. “You didn’t seriously think I was going to leave you hungry, Bunny? No. You’re getting food. There’s a nice pub I go to back in our area.” He chuckled. His thumb rubbed tenderly over her jawline, pecking her swollen lips. “Stole that one. But you can have some more after we get you fed. They’ve got a lovely chocolate lava cake as well.” He didn’t want to pull away but he was hopeful that this night wouldn’t end any time soon.

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[part 2]

A/N: thank you so much for reading! we’re really excited about all the content we have lined up. We’ll be posting regularly so make sure to check out our masterlist and send us request for what you want to read next :) - n + d

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unbridgeabledistances · 3 years

Text

hello! <3 once again will not have a new full-chapter update of ✨ian and mickey take over the alibi✨ fic for a day or two, but wanted to post this little fluffy preview featuring the first appearance of our girl bazooka gallagher-milkovich!!! hope u enjoy:’)

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“Hey, Mick. C’mere. Look at this one.”

Mickey glanced up from where he was elbow-deep in a series of sudsy dishes in their too-small kitchen sink. Once again Ian had made some sort of pasta dish for dinner, with tomatoes and basil and some fancy fresh mozzarella (that he was surprised the little dingy grocery store on the corner even carried)— and even though Mickey grumbled about “fucking gourmet bullshit” and “I’m fine with ramen, man,” he’d still helped himself to multiple scoops of second servings while they’d eaten their first meal at the little circular table from Ikea they’d assembled earlier that afternoon.

Now Mickey was on dish duty— Ian was trying to get the two of them to divvy up household shit equitably, since the usual rule at the Gallagher house was “leave dishes in the sink until they start to smell, then blame someone else for them”; and Ian was leaning back in his chair at the table, scrolling through pictures of various dogs on the websites of the local shelters— when one listing caught his attention.

Pit Bull Puppies, Chicago area NEED HOMES FAST, 8 months old

He clicked on the link—there were a series of images of dogs from the same litter, most of them already claimed. Ian scrolled to the last available listing, holding up his phone for Mickey to see as Mickey strode towards the table, wiping his hands on a dish towel.

“Look, she’s got blue eyes. You guys match.”

Mickey rolled his eyes. “Stop being soft. Gimme your fucking phone.”

This friendly pittie comes from a troubled past and needs a loving home. She was found in a barn outside the city that is well-known for illegal dog fighting along with her brothers and sisters. She isn’t trained yet, and needs someone patient to give her a loving and active environment. She’s a sweetheart, and because she isn’t trained we would love for her new family to give her a name!

Ian saw a crease form between Mickey’s brows as he read the listing. “Sounds like a lot of fuckin’ work.”

Ian could sense Mickey’s hesitation, his gut impulse to immediately put a barrier between himself and this new, fragile thing to take care of, especially after their conversation the other night— but beyond that, he could also see that Mickey didn’t even believe himself as he said it. It was an impulse response, for Mickey, to immediately put up walls— and it was getting easier and easier for Mickey himself to be the one to tear them down.

“Yeah, but it’ll be fun. We can go see her if you want, decide if we think she’s a good fit.”

Mickey swallowed, his eyes still fixated on the picture on the phone screen. “Yeah, but it’s got, like… y’know. Trauma and shit. What if we fuck it up even more?”

Ian smiled. “We won’t fuck her up, Mick. We’ll give her a loving home with two dads and a shit ton of dog toys.”

Ian saw the gentle worry creeping into Mickey’s eyes at the word “dads”—and, okay, maybe that was too soon. Mickey had said he’d be fine getting a dog, and was excited about it the whole time they’d been furniture shopping—but in a weird way this did feel like a trial run for a kid, in a way they were both hyperaware of. There was so much there—this was Mickey’s first real try of taking care of someone that was totally dependent on him, after years of shutting out and pressing down those dark chapters of unwanted fatherhood.

Except it wasn’t just Mickey taking this on; it was both of them, together. Ian tried to show him that, as he reached a hand out to press against Mickey’s lower spine in a grounding touch, pulling him closer.

“Hey. Wanna just visit, to see if we click with her? It’s just a fucking dog, and an excuse to see some adorable puppies.”

Mickey rolled his eyes, then pursed his lips. He stared at the picture again. “Yeah, whatever.”

“Thank you so much for coming by—this sweetheart is the last of the litter, I’m so glad you both saw the listing so quickly!”

The dog shelter employee, a caricature of a kind-faced middle-aged midwestern woman wearing a cardigan and khakis, led them through the well-lit hallways, turning them into room filled with scattered dog toys and two folding chairs.

“This is our little meet and greet area, we’ll bring her in just a moment.” She shut the door behind her, leaving Ian and Mickey in the mostly-empty room.

Mickey’s eyes darted around curiously. “This doesn’t look like a fucking dog shelter, man. It looks like a preschool.”

Ian smirked, settling into one of the chairs while Mickey remained standing. “It’s a dog rescue center, I guess. Probably run by lots of people who are way too into the dog thing.”

Mickey shrugged, capturing his lip between his teeth contemplatively. “Whatever. And they’ll just let us take it home? If we want it?”

“Yeah.”

Just then the door creaked open—and in came the shelter worker once more, carrying a bundle of grey wrapped in a worn towel. She placed the puppy down on the floor.

“Like the listing said, she doesn’t have a name yet—but here’s our girl!”

The puppy rose to stand on her four legs— a little grey pit bull, with ice-blue eyes and a too-skinny frame, the lines of her ribcage jutting out through her thin fur. She was tiny—definitely smaller than Ian had realized from the pictures, and definitely smaller than an 8-month-old pit bull should be based on the bits of googling he’d done on the L ride over.

The puppy stretched her limbs out long, then stumbled over her too-big feet slightly to race towards one of the dog toys in the corner of the room. Once she captured it in her mouth she circled back contentedly and flopped down on the floor in the middle of the room, starting to chew on the corner of the bone sleepily.

“She’s so little.” Ian crouched on the ground— and he could tell he was doing that little baby-voice thing he always did, where his voice went up ten pitches and went all fuzzy around the edges that Mickey always gave him shit for, but in this moment he didn’t particularly care.

“Hey there, girl. You’re such a sweetheart, aren’t you?”

Ian could tell Mickey was rolling his eyes behind him. He reached out a hand to pet the puppy’s fur—it was soft, velvety and warm. Slowly, the dog inched closer and wriggled herself to sit pressed against Ian’s lap, letting the bone fall out from the corner of her mouth and nestling her chin to rest on Ian’s upper thigh.

“She’s a little sleepy,” the shelter worker added. “She’s been pretty mellow since we received her, but we think with some good nutrition and some exercise she’ll have loads of energy. It’s just a matter of getting her back into good health.”

The scrawny puppy was sleeping now, her chin still tilted on Ian’s leg and her eyelids drooping shut.

“Mick, d’you wanna pet her? Her fur is so soft, it’s ridiculous.”

Mickey bit his lip again, staring at the scene from where he was still standing a safe distance away, a few paces behind where Ian was perched on the floor.

“Yeah, guess so.”

He kneeled beside Ian, tentatively reaching a hand out to stroke the dog’s head— almost like he was scared he’d hurt her, like he was scared he’d do something wrong. The corner of Mickey’s mouth ticked upwards a bit at the contact with the puppy’s soft fur— and then he rubbed her head again, giving her a gentle pat. The puppy’s eyelids lazily opened, her tail starting to sweep side to side against the linoleum floor.

“Uh. Hey there.” Mickey chuckled uncomfortably, but his uneasiness was starting to melt away. “Do I gotta, like, talk to it?”

Ian grinned. “You can do whatever you want.”

Mickey ran scratches against the dog’s scalp, then down her sides.

“She’s kinda skinny. I can feel her fucking ribcage.”

Responding to the touch, the puppy lazily rolled over onto her back, exposing her tummy to welcome belly-rubs. Mickey grinned, and reached out to scratch at the puppy’s tummy.

“You’re a pretty girl, aren’t you? That’s right. Yes, you are. Such a good girl.”

Ian smirked—and filed Mickey’s puppy-talk away in his mind as something to make fun of him for later; but not right now, when Mickey was still learning to do this, when the defensiveness and self-judgement had only just drained from his system and he was still second-guessing his every move.

The puppy nudged her wet nose into Mickey’s hand and licked at his palm; and Mickey laughed, almost jolting in surprise. His eyes crinkled as he looked over at Ian.

“This is the friendliest fucking dog I’ve ever met, man.”

Ian felt his lips curve into a smile. Of course Mickey hadn’t met dogs that were this bubbly and friendly; half the dogs he’d had exposure to were chained in Southside front yards, trained to rip each other’s throats out and bark viciously at people walking by. Ian hadn’t really been near many dogs either; but seeing his husband immediately melt in the presence of a puppy, the innocence and awe seemingly radiating off of him, made something warm pool in his stomach.

“Yeah, she’s pretty special.” Ian reached a hand out to try and pet at the puppy’s head, and she turned her neck to nip at Ian’s wrist with her pointy puppy teeth.

“There’s some of that feisty energy we’ve been hoping for.” The shelter worker smiled knowingly. “Are you two interested in taking her home?”

Ian lifted his gaze from the squirmy puppy rolling on the ground between them to meet Mickey’s eyes.

“Mick?”

They called Debbie to pick them up from the shelter, since the logistics of taking a brand-new puppy on the L with them without a leash or collar seemed like too much to handle, even if she would probably just sleep the entire time. Debbie had spread an old towel in the back next to Franny’s car seat and Ian plopped the puppy into the middle seat, opting to sit shotgun next to Debbie while Mickey kept Franny and the puppy company in the back.

They were almost back at the Alibi now, and Ian was half-listening to Debbie prattle on about what slobs her new roommates were, and how she had half a mind to U-Haul with Heidi— when he tuned in to Franny and Mickey’s conversation in the backseat, the puppy sleeping soundly between them.

“What d’you think, Little Red— what’s the best dog name you can think of?”

Ian noticed Franny furrowing her brows from where he could see her in the rearview mirror. “Hmmm. How about… Queen Justice? That’s the name of my favorite wrestler. And the name I gave the fish Mommy got me.”

Mickey chuckled, and Ian raised an eyebrow at Debbie, cutting her monologue off mid-sentence. “Wait, you got Franny a fish?”

Debbie sighed. “Yeah. I felt bad about the move, and Monica and Frank never gave us shit like that when we were little. Figured I’d try to be a good mom or whatever.”

Ian smiled, reaching out to softly punch her in the upper arm. “That’s actually kinda cool, Debs.”

In the backseat, Franny was still thinking out loud.

“We have to name her after something you like, Uncle Mickey. That’s what Mommy told me about naming Queen Justice. What are your favorite things?”

Ian twisted in his seat to turn towards Franny and join the conversation. “Probably beer and guns, but neither of those things make good dog names, Fran.”

Mickey raised his eyebrows. “Oh yeah? Here’s a fucking relationship quiz then, lover— what’s my favorite type of gun?”

Ian rolled his eyes, contorting even more in his seat to twist and face Mickey. “I don’t fucking know, Mick.”

“A bazooka, bitch.” Mickey ran his hand over the sleeping puppy’s silky fur, scratching behind her ears. “Bazooka Gallagher. Or Milkovich. Or whatever. That’s a pretty good fucking dog name if you ask me.”

Ian felt a smile creep onto his face. Bazooka. “That’s honestly kinda perfect.” He reached his arm into the backseat to reach at the puppy. “Hey there, Baz. You like your new name? You ready for us to take you home?”

Bazooka’s eyelids drifted open, her tail starting to drum against the back of the car seat in a reaction to all of the attention. Franny reached down from her car seat and gave Baz a little peck on the head, and immediately Baz started licking all over Franny’s face, making her squeal and laugh and wriggle in her car seat as Baz shifted to stand on the seat and leaned closer to Franny’s face.

“It tickles! Uncle Mickey, she’s licking me!”

“Allllright.” Mickey reached to scoop the puppy off of Franny, wrapping Bazooka back in the discarded towel on the carseat and holding her like a baby in his arms. He scratched at Baz’s head again, then smoothed down her fur.

“We’re gonna take you home real soon, Bazooka Gallagher-Milkovich.”

#xoxo love u all #have not been able to write much after the Events of this week but this happened to day and i was happy about it!!!!!#also i love that i am truly just writing about.... my own dog as a self-insert shameless character lolol #how did this happen #shameless #shameless fic #gallavich fic #gallavich fanfiction #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #debbie gallagher #franny gallagher #ian x mickey #ixm #bazooka gallagher milkovich #gallavich

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cloudninetonine · 3 years

Text

Cogito, ergo sum

Chapter: 2

Pairing: Connor (RK800) x fem!reader

A/N: Hey guys! I want to apologise for the long wait between chpaters but seeing as I’m on my last year of college my school work is coming before everything else so it’s a little hard working between them! Don’t worry, I’m not dropping this series or anything just expect chapters to take a little long to be loaded and everything! Also, this chapter seems a little too far paced for me, so sorry about that as well!

Tags at the bottom once again!

I do not own Detroit become human this is merely fanficion

Warnings: Bad language, physical assault, threats (?), hints of abuse, (Name) being weird like always, also angry (Name), mentions of drugs, there’s a bit of slander against drug abusers that I do not condone!

Undercut babes!

It’s fascinating, it really is, the way her beautiful gaze follows you as you round her, studying her feverishly, your eyes wide and bright.

She’s...well, words cannot describe her. Her beauty lies beyond your imagination and you’re not quite equipped to say anything that her magnificent ears deserve to hear, your words are below her and she’s just-

Wow.

“Ms (Last), please-”

You raise your hand towards the younger engineer, silencing with a small utter of ‘hush’ and he’s shutting his mouth, falling back to the side of your desk with not much else to say.

The android you’ve been un-shamelessly ogling for the past 10 solid minutes is still very quiet, she’s just watching you in her manufactured attire, shy, nervous, scared- everything you really wish she wasn’t right now because there is no way you want her to see you as some sort of threat, far from it.

“Henry” Turning back towards the engineer, he stiffs up like a board, sweat forming on his brow “Why didn’t you dismantle her?”

It’s rude, it’s horrible to say and it sours your mouth when you form those words, but it’s an honest question, you want to know why someone would do this, keep her alive, see her for all her glory.

The public spoke strongly about their opinions of androids, like toys to be played with, slaves to be worked, not the thing you so desperately wanted people to see them as. The masterpieces that stood beyond human comprehension.

The android lets out a noise similar to a whimper as Henry stammers out.

“I-I couldn’t she- um- I-” Finally, he sighs with frustration, Henry makes eye contact with you “She said was scared and...I couldn’t”

You snap back to face her.

“Is that true?”

She hesitates, one second, two seconds, three seconds, four- it takes a whole 30 seconds before she’s finally responding. “Yes…”

Your chest bursts in excitement.

“You’re incredible” Henry deflates in relief, placing a hand against your desk while you grasp her cheeks, her warm grey eyes glancing between your two hands then meet your own stare, confused. “Amazing, beautiful, fantastic, so, so much more”

“...thank you”

You sniff, then you’re pulling away, trying to keep your tears abay. You really can’t believe that your work has gone so far, that new forms of sentient are evolving from a human’s hand, you’re so overjoyed by it all but you’re also kind of realising how weird you’re being.

“Sorry, I’m becoming the creepy stereotypical scientist, let me just-” Pulling off your lab coat, you throw it over her shoulders, pulling it tighter around her for her dainty hands to grasp and hold, a smile growing on her face in gratitude. You’re really still in awe of it all but send her a giddy smile back “Henry get Kamski I’m sure he’s gonna love this”

When the man disappears, closing the office door behind him, you guide her to a chair, kneeling before her kindly.

“Tell me” She waits patiently for you to continue “What’s your name?”

When she opens her mouth, you interrupt her, grasping her hands “No, not the name you were given, the name you have chosen. What is your name?”

You’re at the beginning of history right here, you can already see the books that are yet to be written, all starting at this very moment, with you and her. This android, this amazing, piece of living metal, is the start of something great and you can’t wait to be a part of it.

“My name is….”

-----------

“(Name), I’m sorry, but there isn’t really anything I can do”

Your hands come down on the desk, expression unbelieving.

“But he attacked Ortiz in self defence, it’s not fair for him to be shipped to Cyberlife! That hellhole already has enough test subjects with other deviants, why can’t he be let go!?” Pushing yourself back up, you drag your hands down your face in exasperation “He’s a victim! He was defending himself, why can’t we let him off with a lesser offence?”

Billie sighs, shutting the file softly. “Because in the eyes of the law, he’s not a victim. He’s property and there isn’t much we can do about that. Besides, because Ortiz is dead, his ownership basically goes back to Cyberlife, so they have the authority to take him back”

Billie’s right, you know that they’re right, but it’s just so frustrating, so vexing that this is the case. An android, in the eyes of society, is nothing more than their components, why should they be given the same privilege as those who eat, shit and breathe?

Billie may be a judge, but they didn’t make the law.

You remember years ago, when something like this would have been seen as detestable, that the masses would have stood up to fight this kind of horror, but for some reason, with age came stupidity and ignorance it seemed. What the fuck had happened to you all?

You open your mouth, then close it, then open it again before huffing, taking the file from their desk and ripping your coat off the hanger.

“I’m sorry, (Name)!” Billie calls and you wave them off, shouting back a ‘Don’t worry about it’ then close their office.

The courthouse is only a few blocks away from the precinct, a good walk away, a good way to calm yourself down until you’re having to face the frustration that comes in with having to work in such a high strung place. It’s funny really, you used to say ACAB when you were younger, still believed it too, so it’s really a wonder as to why you joined, but then again sometimes to make change you have to become the very thing you hate-

“Detective (Last)-”

You scream, almost dropping your files and jumping a meter within the air. Passerbys don’t even spare you a glance, a generation raised on the weirdest websites like Vine, Tiktok, Youtube and god forbid, Tumblr, have them desensitised to whatever shit people like to play at now-a-days.

“Oh my God, Inspector Gadget” A hand falls to your chest, checking your racing heartbeat “You can’t just sneak up on a bitch like that”

Connor, the big old puppy, tilts his head in mild confusion “But I called your name twice, detective”

Oh.

“What are you doing here, Connor?”

The android joins your side and you continue your way. “Lieutenant Anderson informed me that you were heading to the courthouse, so I decided to come and brief you about a new case”

A new case, of course a new case, deviancy keeps popping up all over the country rapidly but you can’t hold your surprise about the fact that it’s been a few days and there’s already a new case.

“Deadass?”

Wait, you hadn’t mean to say that-

His eyes narrow “Deadass?”

A snort escapes you “Oh my God I can’t believe you just said that, it sounds so cursed coming from your mouth. I meant, seriously?”

You swear on your life, on everything that may be above and so much more, that the android lets out a laugh when he continues, explaining the details as you finally enter the office.

You realise, as he talks, you feel a whole lot lighter than you had earlier.

-----------

“This guy is as scummy as it gets”

Unfortunately, you can’t help but agree. Todd Williams is about as charismatic as a dumpster fire, messy hair, messy face, stained clothing and the stench of alcohol clung when you finally met him, having to hold back a wince of disgust.

You don’t usually speak ill of others, but you know his type, from the way he carries himself to the way he speaks. You’ve had to face men like him before, his whole demeanor brings back bad memories and you’re so glad that you’re not the one having to get details from him, to have to speak to him.

One thing’s for sure though, you don’t blame whatever deviant decided to book it from him.

“Why doesn’t he just...get a refund from Cyberlife?” You take a sip of your milkshake, staring at Hank, Connor and Mr Williams who looked to be ending off their conversation. “They do that for deviants, don’t they?”

Yes, if you remember, the new flashy CEO of the hell corp spoke it for all to see, that deviance is guaranteed to offer you your cash back.

How inhumane it all sounded.

Gavin scoffs, drinking his coffee “You think a guy like that cares about refunds?”

No. You know why he’s doing it. It’s all about power for fuckers like that.

Mr Williams leaves, Hank is looking through his notes, Connor is heading your way, probably to refer all the information back to you and Gavin is taking in a breath to start his bullshit again, despite your civilness that you had been sharing.

Eh, peace was never an option-

“Your metal boyfriend is heading this way”

The noise you make isn’t human, it’s a mix of a wheeze and scream, like you’ve just choked on the air your breathing and in all honesty, you have, but you’re not letting that mother fucker get away with catching you off guard, especially when he starts laughing.

“Shut up, furry”

Your actually feel the air from his head snapping towards you. “I’m not a fucking furry, quit fucking saying it!”

You pat his shoulder “It’s alright, Reed, we all know you wrote yiff fiction in your spare time-”

You dodge his fist, running away from his red, angered face and petty insults, dragging Connor away from the break room to the side, all while laughing up a storm.

Having your attention on the android again brings back Gavin’s words, his tease of ‘boyfriend’ which makes your face heat up, in what? You’re not quite sure, but it’s enough to make Connor notice your oddity.

“What were you and Detective Reed-”

“Nothing” You cackle, patting down his shoulders to distract yourself “He’s just being an arsehole again, nothing to worry yourself over”

And worry himself he didn’t, because he couldn’t of course, android and all.

Connor was quick to fill you in, an AX400 by the name of Kara had stolen (the word kidnapped comes to mind but you know that the robot detective will just ‘correct’ you on your wording) another android, Mr William’s ‘daughter’, model YK500 named Alice after assaulting him the night before. Mr Williams had been knocked out after the ordeal, as to why it had taken him so long to report it.

“Were there any signs of assault that you could see? Ones that could lead to a potential take down or unconsciousness?” Connor takes a moment before shaking his head “Yeah, I didn’t think so”

What a lying fuck.

“Let’s head to the briefing room”

Hank is there, as well as a whole group of other police officers, talking amongst themselves as you situate yourself behind the podium, screen remote in hand and smiling brightly. Your partners are at your side, Connor in his usual stoic stance while the old fart has his arms crossed, bored as always and you’re ready to debrief the many uniforms but they keep talking, even after you clear your throat.

You’re not one to get angry at being talked over, annoyed, yes, but anger leads you nowhere with a crowd, so instead, you use your most favourite tactic to date

“Pay attention to me or I am gonna start screaming people” You sing. Not a threat, but a promise. “And you all know I will screech like mother fucker”

The room is silent in the next second.

“Great! So-”

The door to the room bursts open.

“Fucking really-”

“Detective (Last)'' It's the front office assistant and by the looks of it, he is panicked, worried even, as he addresses you. You suddenly feel your stomach knot up “I’m sorry, but there’s been an emergency with your relative Carl Manfred”

You swallow, hard. “What?”

The meeting ends right then and there.

-----------

Hank hurls to a stop right outside the entrance. You’re already halfway out of the car when he shuts off the vehicle, Connor is taking off his seatbelt and you’re already racing down the soaked concrete path to the front door, rain pelting down on you.

You barely feel it though.

You startle the receptionist when you slam your hands down, eyes wide in panic, breathing coming out in fast, short pants and just looking as though you faced the masses to make it to this spot, right in front of her.

“Carl Manfred, he was brought here about an hour ago is he-”

She interrupts “Are you family?”

“Yes, please, I-”

“In what relation do you have to the patient?”

Is she really fucking serious right now? You debated leaning over and strangling your answer out of her, letting her know what kind of fucking pain you could put her through in this very moment-

But the hand that is placed against your back keeps you still. It’s warm and comforting and keeps you from mauling the fucker right out of her chair, though it doesn’t calm your anxiety, no, but at least it’s there.

You turn to see Connor, who nods towards you politely.

Huh, what a twist of events.

Hank leans over from your other side, looking just as angry as you feel, though he keeps his voice civil when he speaks “Listen, her old man’s just had a heart attack, could you drop the formal shit so she can see him?”

Her voice is sharp, just like her stupid fucking face and she snaps back “I can’t let you in unless I know your relation, unless you’d like to be escorted out by security”

Damn, she’s playing with fire and you’re ready to throw oil all fucking over her.

“I don’t fucking think so-” Pulling out your badge, you slam it against the desk, with nothing short of a growl “Police. Now, tell me where my fucking dad is or you’ll regret the next words that come out of your mouth”

You never abuse your power as a cop, it’s inhumane and back in your younger days you sneered at the disgusting police who would use their authority for their own gain, so you hate to admit but the nervous look that crosses her face when she sees your badge and Hank’s when he pulls it out for extra effect scratches an itch you begged to be scratched.

“Floor 3, the front desk will inform you what room”

“Thanks” You spit, already rushing to the elevator, the other two following.

Connor is quiet, to your surprise. Honestly, you expected him to speak out about your behaviour, your attitude, your unprofessionalism, but he says nothing, just trails after the two of you in silence, obediently, just like he was made for.

It’s comforting having him here, even if he’s just following orders.

The next receptionist is kinder than the last (she even scowls at the mention of her coworker) and points down the hallway, to where two officers stand with cups of coffee within their hands. They stiffen in surprise at your arrival, but you pay them no mind, pushing your way into the room where you finally pause, taking in the scene of your beloved father figure, laid still within the bed, pale, heart monitor beeping occasionally.

The doctor by Carl’s side looks up at you. “I’m sorry, but who are you?”

Hank and Connor wait outside.

“(Name) (Last), Carl’s daughter and emergency contact” You explain, walking further into the room “Is he- Can I-”

“He’s fine” She explains with a comforting smile “And yes, you can come closer, though the medication has him knocked unconscious so he won’t be talking any time soon”

The relief almost has you collapsing, brings you back from the panic attack that threatens to kick your arse right in front of everyone and you finally breathe normally.

“Thank you, and you are?”

“Dr Collins” Collins offers her hand and you shake it weakly. “Your father is going to be okay, (Name), but he’s going to need a lot of rest. Cardiac arrest at this age can be fatal, so we were lucky that he lived so close”

You nod, tiredly slinking to Carl’s side to drop into the cushion chair, taking his hand in yours. Kissing it lovingly, you place it close to you in comfort, in reassurance.

‘He’s fine, he’s fine, he’s going to be okay-’

“What are you doing here?”

Your anger shoots right back up, as does you head when you turn to look at the doorway.

“Leo” The name is dragged out of your mouth, it’s spoken with a heavy coat of venom and dirt and for all the participants who are about to see this wild shit show, is a clear indication that you’re far from happy to see the man that stood there. “The fuck are you doing here?”

He scoffs “I’m family, what else am I here for?”

“Oh I don’t know,” You’re standing, stalking closer to him with a raged gleam in your eye “To mooch off him a little bit more?”

The tension can be cut with a knife, everyone can see it, feel it, even Connor, who looks ready to intervene at any given moment.

“No, detective” One of the officiers starts, cutting in in hopes to keep you both calm. “He was there when it all happened, he saw everything-”

“He was there?” No, her words only add fuel to the fire and you’re glaring at your brother once again “You were there? The fuck were you there for? You did this?”

“No!”

“Please calm down” Collins cuts in “I understand the anger but the other patients-”

You ignore her, glancing around the area when a thought struck you.

“Where’s Markus?”

Connor’s the first to respond, “Who’s Markus, detective (Last)?”

“Dad’s care bot” A pin drops, no one is speaking, the two cops are quiet, Leo is scowling, but he’s not looking at you and your anger is quickly making room to fear, cold and stabbing when you push again, harsher, angrier “Where the fuck is Markus?”

The second officer speaks this time, hat in his hands and you know what happens next is not going to be good.

“He was leaning over your father when we walked in detective, Mr Leo Manfred told us he attacked him” The man gulps, hesitating. He’s not nervous for what he’s done, no, he’s nervous about the dark look that seems to be slowly taking over your eyes, “I shot him”

A beat goes by. Then another, another, another, another, another-

“Why were you there in the first place?” It’s soft, curious, but the rage behind it is big, your need for an answer is keeping it back “What was the call for?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t-”

“Answer the question, officer”

His partner offers up the answer “....A break in, ma’am”

There’s silence, then you nod in understanding.

No one is quick enough to stop you from shoving Leo into the wall, hands wrapped tightly around the lapels of his jacket and holding him up so you can scream at him properly, face feeling hot from anger, eyes wild from rage, practically feral.

“You fucking did this! This is your fault, you good for nothing fuck!” You pull your hand back and punch him right in the face, he’s too in shock to react but everyone else is trying to pull you off “What?! Were you off your shit from snorting that fucking powder again, you damn druggie!? Huh!? HUH!? You high right now, too!?”

“Jesus fucking Christ, (Name), let go!” Hank yells but he’s fucking impressed by your resistance.

“He could have died because of you, you good for nothing cunt! Worthless piece of shit! Now, Markus is fucking dead because of you, the person who was actually fucking taking care of him! This is all your fault! He’s in that hospital bed, because of you! You! Did! This! All for those stupid drugs! You’re fucking pathetic!”

You’re finally tugged off by someone, their arms slipping under your own to stop you from going back at him again. The officers are acting as a wall between you and your brother, Dr Collin’s is checking his nose as blood drips down his face, Leo is still in shock and Hank is leaning over, hands propped onto his knees. That leaves...

“I’m sorry detective (Last), but I’m going to have to restrain you until you calm down”

You scream in frustration and try to fight against it, but damn, you have to admit in a moment of clarity, Connor is fucking strong.

“Lieutenant Anderson, if you could take her legs, we can escort her out of the building without much trouble” Hank huffs something under his breath probably a grunt of ‘fucking android’ but complies, glaring at you when he leans down.

“You kick me and I’ll kick your ass”

Your respect for him makes you comply, but the anger doesn’t stop you from cussing both him and the android out, naming every threat under the sun as they carry you out of the building, back to the car which you are shoved placed into.

“Let me out of this fucking car, Hank!” You bellow, glaring at the man with sharp eyes who stood outside the vehicle, leaning against it “I’ll break this fucking window, I swear to fucking God!”

“You can try, but we both know you won’t!”

Once again, you’re screaming, tugging frantically at the door’s handle that you know is locked, but are way too angered to care right now.

Connor sits by your side, a good distance away to not antagonise you, silent, waiting and watching as you slowly fall from angry to desperate, tears welling within your eyes and falling down your cheeks. It only takes a few more moments for you to stop altogether, your shoulders shaking as you sob, quietly but strong.

The android finally speaks “Detective (Last)-”

You’re on him in a moment, arms wrapped around his frame, face buried into his shoulder, wetting his suit jacket as you cry, shaking.

It’s a new one for Connor. An android built for detective work, to sniff out the bad deviants, to question suspects and actually built with a comforting feature for victims of crimes. But this is a first, a first he’s seen anyone to tears, more importantly, a first of seeing you so broken. Sure, he had seen you defeated those few days ago, but this is different, you’re not trying to hide conflicting feelings behind your bubbly smile and weird jokes, you’re just...crying. Nothing more, nothing less.

His arms are hovering at your sides, hesitant, unsure and it’s not until Hank gestures from outside the car to ‘fucking do something, you stupid machine’ that the protocol finally kicks in, his arms coming to wrap around you securely and comforting, reassuring you through your whimpers.

Connor is a robot, a machine that feels nothing.

But seeing you cry isn’t something he can just let happen.

Software instability.

-----------

Tags: @dillxpixkles @1950schick @pinkittwice @iris-suoh @loveflowsthroughme @thatlonelyalto @starcatcher-kay (ya’ll I’m half asleep if I forgot you in the taglist I am SORRY-)

#connor rk800 #dbh connor #detroit become human connor #dbh hank #detroit become human hank #dbh gavin #detroit become human gavin #dbh carl #detroit become human carl #connor rk800 x reader #connor rk800 imagine #dbh connor x reader #dbh x reader #dbh imagine #dbh #detroit become human #dbh leo #detroit become human leo #cogito ergo sum

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lilydalexf · 2 years

Note

1/3: Hi! Serious question. FOR REAL, how in the world did you all survive waiting for Prufrock's Love to post chapter by chapter of these amazing AU epics back in the day? I have access to the full collection and I'm still BARELY surviving. And they are like, a bajillion chapters each. How are you alive? I've never been more grateful to NOT have watched the show during its original run. Hoo boy. WHICH brings me to my 2nd question, which might sound arrogant but it is 100% genuine curiosity.

LOL, I don't know how people survived waiting for chapters of new Prufrock's Love fics when they were originally posted. I've never read WIPs until they're completed, so it was always very easy for me!

X-Files fics used to be posted in text (.txt) files because that was the format any browser could handle. Later on toward the end of the show's original run some people posted their stories in html format since by then browsers were better and authors often had their own website where they could post html files. No social media accounts, just individual web pages people made, usually at a free site like geocities, tripod, or angelfire. But to circulate your stories anywhere, they needed to be a text file.

All that is to say: text files made finding and fixing errors harder. Once you posted something as a text file, that is how it was. You couldn't click an edit button. If the story was posted to a personal website the entire file could be replaced easily enough (if the typos were known to the author, which probably wasn't always the case). If the story went to Ephemeral, Gossamer, atxc, or an email mailing list, and nearly all XF stories went to at least one of those places, it was a text file with no way to correct errors. So the errors would be there forever.

Beta readers seem to have been a much bigger thing back in the day of the X-Files airing on TV, in part because the text file thing made fixing any errors after posting pretty much impossible. I don't know anybody who wrote their fics as text files, though. Maybe Prufrock's Love or some authors did, but going through the process of converting word processor documents to text files was a big thing (like, there were fan-made instruction guides on how to do it so all the line breaks and special characters would be right). So why are there typos when even word processors back in the day had spell check? My view is that errors happen, especially in longer stories and ones without betaing, and the text file conversion process did nobody any favors. And it's fic, which is a free, fun hobby without pro editing.

TL,DR: I avoided WIP angst by not reading fics in progress, fics being posted as text files was annoying on many levels, and although word processing programs in the olden days had spell check mistakes happen.

#ye olden times #xfiles fanfic #xf fanfic #anon #asks

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flyboytracy · 3 years

Text

Okay but what if Scott rly was Alan’s dad?

I was gonna post this for Earth & Sky week if I managed to complete it but it’s smol Tracy’s birthday and it’ll probably never see the light of day otherwise so why not :D

I’m always a ho for an AU so here’s one I started over lockdown called ‘Okay but what if Scott really was Alan’s dad’

☆ ⌒ ★ ⌒ ☆ ⌒ ★ ⌒ ☆ ⌒ ★ ⌒ ☆ ☆ ⌒ ★ ⌒ ☆ ⌒ ★ ⌒ ☆ ⌒ ★ ⌒ ☆

Long before International Rescue was a thing, the Tracy boys had lived on a farm in Kansas. It’d belonged to their late mother, God bless her soul, and these days it only grew crop for an environmentally friendly fuel because Tracy money came from technology instead of the earth.

The boys’ famous army father was gone for days at a time and there was plenty of rumours why that was. Mrs Wyatt who lived down the lane from the Tracys said she’d heard the man was alcoholic and probably had been for a long time because his teenaged son had been looking after the rest of them since his poor momma died. She saw them troop past her gate every day on their way to school and back, and then to the park on the weekends when their pa’s jet wasn’t on the drive.

Mr Colton, who lived at number fifty-four said he’d taken his son to the pool at the same time that the Tracy boys had been there without their father as usual. He told Vera that he’d overheard the youngest chattering away to the red-headed one about a rocket he’d called the TV21 until the eldest had overheard and shushed them. According to Mrs Johnson who was friends with Ms Hernandez at the school, Col. Tracy had budding engineers, astronauts and a future Olympic swimmer at the home he never seemed to return to. Instead it was Scott and Virgil who took their brothers to swim meets and galas and even to the Cosmosphere. Ms Hernandez could find nothing to complain about because all four of the Tracy boys grades were above average and threw off the teachers’ bell curves when it came to subjects like science and math.

That Scott boy sure had his hands full with three brothers, his own future and a possibly alcoholic father to look after, so the whole town was surprised when he went and knocked up the Austin girl after being crowned king and queen of their grad ball. Not much ever happened in the backwater towns of the sunflower state so everybody knew about it the morning after the night Pa Austin went round the Tracy’s farmhouse to have it out with the Colonel.

The rumour mill had been on fire for months after that because Mrs Johnson had been having her usual perm when she’d heard Ma Austin tell Shirley all about how her daughter’s boyfriend had been going to leave their small town after graduation. She’d seen the way the Tracy boy cared for his brothers and had expected he’d give up his plans to join the military if he had a kid of his own at home with her.

To the town’s surprise, it turned out that the Colonel was actually a long distance father and not an entirely absent one. Pa Austin had stormed to the farmhouse that night with his shotgun in hand, only to be greeted by a hologram of the great Colonel himself, sat eating dinner on a beach somewhere as his boys ate dinner round a table in Kansas. Austin had gone round with the aim of threatening at least one Tracy with his shotgun but hadn’t got that far because Colonel Jefferson Tracy could still dominate a room from over a thousand miles away.

According to Pa Austin, his fancy hologram was just as tall as the real thing and pretty sober which put paid to Mrs Wyatt’s theory that he was an alcoholic. In fact he was a Big Apple businessman now, and a darn good one at that because by the end of the evening it had been decided that his eldest son would join the GDF as planned and the child would remain with its mother but want for nothing. Tracys took care of their own and Pa Austin said he’d realised that when the colonel’s youngest boy had kept interrupting their conversation to show him trash he’d found in the pond at the park and Tracy hadn’t brushed the youngster off at all.

The big holographic man had promised they’d feed the ducks at the weekend, which meant half the town was hanging around the park come Saturday morning.

The youngest had appeared first, full of joy and enthusiasm that his older brother didn’t share as the red-head was dragged across the grass to the pond. The second eldest was close behind them and had a couple of toy boats in his arms which left the eldest Tracy boy and his father to bring up the rear.

They were deep in conversation when they appeared, the Colonel strolling along easily with his hands behind his back like an old fashioned gentleman. Scott was by his side and gone was the little boy always running to catch up. In his place strode a man and it was rather disappointing really.

The Tracys moved away shortly afterwards. Stan the mailman said he’d seen fancy suits taking pictures of the farmhouse and the Tracys had paid for their mail to be redirected but he couldn’t seem to find an address. The Austins had an address for the Tracys, but they also had a pretty hefty NDA in exchange for a very comfortable lifestyle and weren’t much inclined to break it just to satisfy everyone else’s curiosity.

It all died down after a while and people got bored of watching Sophia get bigger. Her old flame might’ve flown out of the picture but his presence sure was felt around town when Sophia got her own car and fancy place on the Tracy’s dime. Ms Hernandez said the colonel had insisted Ms Sophia continue her education alongside being a momma to his first grandchild and Shirley heard there was a job at the Tracy’s family business when she wanted to get out of Kansas.

Nothing exciting happened in their little backwater until the day a private jet landed on the main street and Sophia was whisked off to give birth at a very fancy hospital. According to Ma Austin, she had a private room and the colonel had parked his jet on the roof since his son wouldn’t make it back in time for the birth.

They did seem to be a good family, the Tracys, even if they’d disappeared off the face of the earth in the past eight months or so. The only trace anybody could seem to find of them was on the Tracy Industries website where each son had a mention in the CEO’s bio but real information was scarce. They disappeared off Ms Hernandez’s records and there was nothing about them on any government website. Nobody was truly surprised that the Colonel had chosen to disappear because they’d come to realise a few things after reading his bio. For one, the fella was a billionaire several times over and two, he adored those four boys of his more than anything because his words about his achievements had been clinical but the paragraph about each of his sons’ achievements had made old Mrs Johnson cry.

Of course everybody wanted to know what happened but the Austins didn’t have a lot to say. The Colonel was a very nice man who didn’t seem to have taken offence to Ms Austin’s actions. He’d offered her further education and employment instead of the lawsuit most men in his position would’ve filed. There were rumours the fella was working on a top secret project that’d change the world, but in their little backwater there were rumours about everything.

Alan Tracy didn’t pay attention to any of those rumours as he grew up with his momma in a sleepy little town in Kansas. The little boy loved many things including his momma and their house that had a big garden with a tire swing and a sandpit he used to re-enact grandpa landing on Mars. He loved ice cream and going to the park and he even liked Kindergarten ‘cause he got to draw pictures of his family and space.

But what Alan Tracy loved most of all was his daddy. He didn’t get to see him a lot ‘cause he was learning to be a pilot like grandpa, but every Friday evening a fancy car arrived to take him a little way out of town where grandpa’s jet would be waiting to take him to the island for the whole weekend.

Sometimes grandpa flew it but he had lots of meetings around the world so other times he’d see Uncle Virgil through the window and squeal with excitement ‘cause his biggest uncle had the best toys. He was gonna be an engineer and could fix any of Alan’s toys, even the one that failed a moon launch. He had Alan’s undying love ‘cause the little boy could hang from his arm like a monkey and he had lots of fun stories about his daddy. They were best, best friends and Alan liked to crawl into that big plaid shirt and bug him ‘til Uncle Virg showed him pictures of when daddy was little.

Uncle Virg wasn’t always around though ‘cause he was studying in Denver but that was okay ‘cause Alan had two more uncles to play with. Johnny didn’t really like to play but when he was home he let Alan play with his telescopes and taught him all about space.

Alan loved his daddy but he thought he might love space even more. He loved it when Johnny took him up to the peak of the island in the dark and they sat for an hour to watch for shooting stars. Alan had fallen asleep once on the big fluffy blanket and the best thing of all was when he woke to find daddy had an arm around Johnny’s shoulders and Alan had been drooling on his shirt.

“Hey, sprout.” Daddy had smooched his forehead when he’d noticed bright blue eyes staring up at him with joy, “I love you. John says you’ve been learning about the stars some more.”

“There’s Ursa Major!” Alan had stood up to be able to point out the little pinpricks of light that made up the Ursa Major Constellation and he still hadn’t been taller than his daddy, “Johnny says Ursa’s a big bear like Uncle Virg.”

“Johnny told you that, did he?” his daddy’s laugh had made Alan feel warm right down to his bones and he’d dived for a hug. Impossibly long arms had folded around him and Johnny, drawing them both into the safest place in the universe for so long they missed most of the shooting stars and Johnny made them go away so he could see the rest. Alan didn’t mind ‘cause dad swung him up onto his shoulders and let him get wet on the rocky beach by the villa since it was bath time anyway.

Alan loved Sunday mornings on the island when daddy was home. Alan liked to wake him up by bouncing on the bed ‘cause the sky was awake so they should be too. And then they’d get dressed in matching blue swim shorts and go for a run around the island and if he ran faster than daddy on the home stretch he was allowed to jump into the pool like Superman. Gordon was usually in there by then and kept an eye on Allie doing the doggy paddle in the shallow end whilst daddy went to get breakfast out the fridge. There was something cool that beeped super loud that time he tried to moonwalk on the bottom of the pool like an astronaut and Uncle Virg had dived in like a bowling ball to fish him out. Gordon had laughed a lot but Uncle Virg hadn’t even smiled ‘til daddy gave him one of those hugs that made booboos stop hurting.

Alan really loved his uncles but he loved his daddy most and it was hard to stand on the runway with Uncle Virg to wave goodbye. Uncle Virg didn’t seem to like waving goodbye either so Alan always held his hand to make him feel better and did his best to be like daddy so Uncle Virg wouldn’t miss him too much.

He seemed to end up being more like John as a couple of years passed and everything in his life changed. Grandpa took him to London to get measured for a suit for daddy’s graduation and he didn’t understand why Uncle Virg kept frowning at Gordon for laughing about daddy’s graduation from big school. He asked Uncle Virg what was so funny, and then Grandpa and Grandpa’s weird professor friend who used big words Alan didn’t know yet, but none of them seemed to know and even daddy missed a step when Alan asked him on their way to the fancy dinner Grandpa was hosting at his penthouse in New York for his newly graduated son. Daddy never ever missed anything which was annoying when Alan was trying to get hold of Gordon’s cookies but he’d breathed air the wrong way and Uncle Virg had to thump his back a few times.

Daddy had talked about how cool Alan looked in his little gray suit and Alan had been so happy he’d forgotten about his question ‘til after dinner when they were still at the table and he’d pulled himself onto Grandpa’s knee ‘cause Uncle Virg and Gordon were being loud and he’d been a tired little boy by then. He’d tried one last time to find out what was so funny about daddy’s last graduation and Grandpa had rested his chin atop Allie’s head.

“Your momma and daddy had you after his last graduation.” Grandpa rumbled, “You were quite an unexpected surprise for your daddy, but a welcome one. Gordon likes to remind your daddy about what a big surprise you were.”

“Your daddy was a surprise too, as I recall.” Grandma Tracy was sat with Grandpa and Alan loved visiting her but sometimes she made him cookies and he didn’t love those.

“I love daddy, not cookies.” he mumbled tiredly and fell asleep right there at the table.

That meant he missed the way his Grandpa coughed to quieten his four boys because he had something real important to discuss with them. Scott knew what it was, and Virg had an inkling because it was difficult to disguise underground excavations from a highly skilled engineer. They were sat together with Virgil’s elbow resting on the back of Scott’s chair and blue eyes softened when he realised where Alan had got to.

Alan had managed to sleep through the inaugural meeting of International Rescue and life was never the same again after he woke up.

#idek #AU warning #dad!scott #i'm just such a ho for dad!scott #this is what happens when I watch things like Bridgerton

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chemiste · 4 years

Text

Voicemail. ~one-shot~

a/n: howdy babes, last night i was reading through @toothpastekissy masterlist, basically gobbling up everything and came upon Leaked Feelings! I loved the concept of it so I decided to write my own version :) lmk if y’all want a part two!

ALSO, i recorded myself singing both songs i wrote for harry,,,, if ya want to know the tunes i was thinking for them, comment if you want them and ill post em.

my masterlist

There they were.

The leaked files.

When you got a call at 4 am this morning, you did not expect your publicist to be telling you some of your exes songs were leaked.

“What’s that got to do with me?” You asked, still half asleep.

“They’re about you, Y/N.” Well now you’re awake.

“What?” You shot up out of bed, padding over to your white desk, fuzzy pink socks on your feet. You opened your laptop and jumped onto twitter, scrolling through with one hand while the other held your phone. #StylesLeak was trending worldwide, as was #Y/N.

HarryUpdates tweeted:

OMG OMG RED ALERT WE GOT LEAK SONGS Y’ALL

FineFuckinLine tweeted:

OOF, what the fucccccck did harry do to Y/N? These are all apology songs!!! No wonder the break up was hush hush

E!News tweeted :

Hey everyone! We know Harry Styles and Y/N L/N stans are up early this morning! Leaked songs from Harry sales have been put out on the web for everyone to see. The two singers had called it quits 3 years ago, but now they’re the trending topic again! #shipname is now trending #1 worldwide, I didn’t ever think we’d see that one again! Go to our website for more!

You heard you publicist let out a big sigh, you put your phone on speaker and set it down on the desk next to you so you could keep looking.

“There are 7 songs, and each one has your name in it or as the title.”

It was a bit of shock, to say the least.

You had hung up with your publicist a while ago and were now debating on whether to listen to the songs or not, you had found a fan account that had the leaked files all ready to go for your entertainment, but something made you hesitate clicking the url.

“You Bastard!” You screamed, shoving him back into the wall.

Mascara was streaming down your face, the satin red cocktail dress you wore now crumpled as your crouched to grab your suitcase from underneath the bed.

“Please listen, it’s not what you think—“ Harry started, you whipped around to the man before you, fire burning in your eyes.

“Oh, really Harry? How is me hearing you say ‘yeah Y/N is alright, but gotta keep the media happy ya know’ on a voicemail I probably wasn’t supposed to get not what I think?”

Quickly, you zipped the bag closed, kicking your heels off and shoving your feet into your beat up converse. He let out an exasperated breath, tears starting to shine in his eyes.

“I—I was drunk Y/N! I was with some friends just joking around and—“

“Drunk words are sober thoughts Harry.”

You snapped back, slipping your tench coat on and racing for the stairs, luggage in hand. You rubbed away the endless tears running down your face as you made it to the living room, collecting your keys.

H raced down after you, mumbling over words—

‘Excuses’, You thought.

Right before you opened the front door, he grabbed your hand that was wrapped around the handle of your suitcase.

“Please Y/N, can’t we just sit down and talk this out—“

“There’s nothing to talk about Harry, you made that perfectly clear when I had to listen to you compare me some ‘other models’ while at a very important record dinner! I had to fucking sit there, eyes on me, and act like you weren’t ripping my heart out one word at a time!”

You snatched your hand out of his and moved out the door,

“Don’t call me,” was the last thing you said before slamming the door shut.

Bringing back those memories was something you didn’t want to do, it had been 3 years since the break up. Harry didn’t come after you, even though a part of you wished he had. Wished he had tried harder to get you back. But alas, shortly after, he started dating a model, Camile or something, and your relationship was tossed aside like yesterdays newspaper.

You moved back and forth with your mouse on the link, eventually you closed the page. Instead of fully chickening out, you decided to go to your favorite platform for celebrity gossip, tumblr.

“At least one of his die-heart fans must have the lyrics written down already.”

You mumbled to yourself, logging into your secret side blog about cats, Captain America, and cute outfits.

After not that much digging you found a blog, harrysmygod, (you definitely rolled your eyes at the name) had a whole posting written out about it already.

“They’re sure on top of everything, I’ll give them that.”

You started to read.

Hello my harries!

So if you’ve been up these past few hours, something big has happened! HARRY STYLES HAD SOME FUCKING SONGS LEAKED!!! And no, I don’t mean songs that could have been on the FineLine album, I mean OLD songs!

And they’re about, you know my fav girl, Y/N! Now, we know their break up 3 years ago was very quick and hush-hush, not much details ya know?

BUT WE GOT THE JUICE NOW LADIES!!

The boy wrote 7 songs that got leaked, and you wonder why I know they’re about her? Y/N is a lyric or title word used in all of them! Thats right, all 7 songs. I’ve done the best thing for everyone and written out the lyrics for you to look through, I’ve only kept one chorus and each new verse, if you listen to the song and its repeated I only wrote it down one for you, blah blah you get it?

Great! Heres the first one, it’s called Voicemail.

You took a deep breath and scrolled down.

The look on your face,

The hurt in your eyes,

Made me realize, my lover was gone,

I never got to say goodbye.

Oh, Oh, Ah, Oh.

The words I had said, not true,

I’m so sorry you heard them too.

When you came home in that dress,

Mascara dripping onto your chest.

I knew I had fucked up,

One voicemail turning us to dust.

If you ever hear this song,

Know that I was wrong,

You were the best thing in my life,

Now those flames have turned to ice.

Oh, Oh, Ah, Oh.

Y/N, please remember the love we once had together,

So I know I am real

And then maybe, we could try to heal.

Heaaaaaaaaaal.

Wow you guys, this SONG! Totally sucks that harry didn’t mean to release them cause totally invasion of privacy (sorry harry), but lucky for us we’ve got some info on what happened between Y/N and him!

I’m thinking maybe a voicemail gone wrong? They could have been in a fight and he said something that cut too deep? Lmk what you guys think, heres the next on called Gone.

You scrolled through them, you read all the songs. Lover’s Funeral, Drunk Thoughts, Empty Seat, Your Sock Drawer, and then finally, Y/N.

Alright, we’ve made it to the last song my dudes. And personally it’s my favorite!!!! This was the last song leaked, but I feel the most important. Here’s Y/N.

Oh, Y/N, Y/N, Y/N,

You make my heart fly,

I feel as though I could touch the sky,

I only need your love to try.

My love, love, love

You shine brighter than any star above.

Make me count everyday,

I should have tried to make you stay.

Oh, Y/N, Y/N, Y/N

I know we can agree

That I’m a bastard

Im a flake,

You made the right choice

Walking out on me

But could I have

A second chance,

I know it would be worth it

In the end

Because I’d get,

On one knee,

And promise myself to you

For all eternity.

Oh, Y/N Y/N Y/N

My love, love, love

Oh, Y/N Y/N Y/N

My love, love, love

You gasped, basically jumping away from the computer like it was on fire. Thoughts raced through your mind, you grabbed your head, trying to keep it all together.

He wanted to marry you? Impossible. 3 Years ago this man was thinking about proposing, then how could he say all those horrible things about you?

“He’s not worth another heartbreak, stop it, stop it!” You chanted to yourself.

While you paced back and forth making a dint in your soft white carpet, you had tuned out the notifications for instagram, twitter, and calls coming through to you.

But then a certain dial tone popped up that you had only set for one person.

Ding!

You glanced to your phone on the table and froze.