#mount him and hang on as long as you can bc he can’t do shit when you do | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

twodimecastle · 3 years

Text

fifty bucks & six months.

spencer reid x gender neutral reader new relationship, secret keeping nonsense, 4.5k words, ao3 a/n; turns out i love writing texting fic but tumblr destroys the formatting rip

zero months.

You smile conspiratorially, extending a pinkie towards Spencer and he gives you a skeptical look.

“You know the odds of being found out immediately are-” he starts, but you cut him off.

“Astronomical, I know. I know. But don’t you think it’ll be fun to see how long we can push it?” you wheedle, not caring that your voice sounds more like begging than is strictly dignified because seeing the way Spencer’s nose crinkles in amusement at your heavy handed persuasion is too adorable to pass up. You scoot closer on the couch, tapping the end of his nose with your pinkie finger, letting him catch your hand between his as you continue “I think we’ve got a good shot at hiding it for a little while. It would be like a game.”

Spencer draws your captive hand to his lips, brushing them across your knuckles and watching fondly as you forge ahead in your campaign to persuade him, enjoying the show and the attention too much to tell you he’s already on board. Your eyes are shining with the prospect of the caper, and you’ve made no move to take your hand back from him, and Spencer’s pretty sure he’d be more than happy to sit with you in this moment forever. “I mean-” you go on, gesturing animatedly with your free hand, “you’re like-a really good liar when you want to be. And everyone else always forgets how good you are at it.”

He snorts at that and the sound makes you light up, eyes tracking the arch of his brows, the warmth in his soft brown eyes, memorising the way he looks like this; utterly unbothered, completely at ease. It might be your favourite version of him, but that race has always been a tight one with no clear winner in sight. You have lots of favourite versions of Spencer. Twisting your hand in his, you tangle your fingers together, savouring the way you feel his thumb glide delicately along your skin and the unhidden joy in his face at the simple show of affection.

Time to play your trump card.

“$50 says we can hide it from the whole group for at least six months. If everyone figures it out before then, you win. But if not everyone has worked it out by then, I win.”

The mischievous shine in your eyes is irresistible, and Spencer smiles, disentangling one of his hands from yours to extend his own pinky finger.

“You’re on.”

The words barely make it out of his mouth before you’re colliding with him, pressing your lips to his.

two months.

“So, how long has this whole thing been going on?” Derek’s question catches Spencer off guard, and, based on the way he can see you freeze in his peripheral vision, takes you by surprise as well. Sliding into the driver's seat of the SUV, Derek continues “I hope you didn’t think you were gonna be able to keep me in the dark for long, pretty boy. You should know better than that.”

Following mechanically after him, Spencer takes the passenger seat, trying to frame his next statement as carefully as possible as he hears your door close and the car start. “We were-going to tell you guys-” he begins uncomfortably, glancing back to you for support, but you look just as on edge as he feels. “We were just gonna-keep it to ourselves for a while-before telling Hotch and everything-” he tries again, the mounting tension levering his shoulders higher and higher with every passing moment, but then Derek just laughs, shaking his head.

“Hey, I’m happy for you, kid. For both of you.” He spares a look at you in the back seat through the rear view mirror, and you can feel the tension in your jaw relax, the furrows in your brow straightening out at the note of approval in Derek’s voice. “I’m glad you two finally figured it out,” he says, fondly, and you laugh.

“I bet Spence we could keep it from you guys at least six months,” you explain, reaching forwards through the centre console to link your pinky with Spencer’s, and the touch of your hand releases the last of the tension he had been harbouring as he covers your hand with the other one of his own. He knows Derek clocks the motion, filing it away in his mind somewhere, but he doesn’t care about the scrutiny so much right now. Not when your hand is so warm and comfortable in his.

Derek reaches for the dial on the radio and flicks through the channel, thinking about something, and as you watch, a slow mischievous smirk spreads across his face a moment later before he glances first at Spencer and then at you.

“I’ll tell you what,” he says to you, and Spencer can feel a familiar grin tugging at his own lips as he watches a plan take shape in his friend’s eyes. “I’m happy to sit on this information for a while for a cut of the winnings from whichever one of you comes out on top.” He snorts good naturedly as he continues “I have my own bet to win with Prentiss, so if you two help me win that one, I’ll cut you in too.”

“A quid pro quo of sorts,” Spencer says slowly, and he feels your fingers tighten around his, as you snort softly, and he knows instinctually you’re grinning the same way you always do when you’re winning a game. “I think we can do that.”

Derek grins, turning the music up as he nods, eyes on the road. “Then you two love birds have got yourselves a deal.”

two months and two weeks.

PG: youre not as slick as you think you are ;)

YN: ???

PG: ;))))))))) you should invest in some concealer for your work bag sweetness or tell the good doctor to pay more attention to whats visible in your work clothes

YN: oh my fucking god wait how do you even know thats how that happened

PG: im all knowing and all seeing im like the omnipotent goddess of the fbi

YN: derek blabbed

PG: he sang like a canary but also im an omnipotent goddess im also totally clued in on the whole bet situation with em so for the low low price of every single juicy detail about how this adorableness went down you can buy my silence :)

YN: im getting derek decaf coffee on all coffee runs from now on >:( traitors dont get caffeine

PG: darling sweet angel i need deets all of them like immediately

YN: >:( fine ok so. after that case down in georgia a few months ago? the weird one? with the creepy mother son thing?

PG: omg yuck pls dont remind me im here for the CUTENESS not the MURDER

YN: sorryyyyyyy anyway so spence was like being super weird about it all on the plane and whatever but he was doing that super annoying thing where he ignores it and says hes fine so everyone leaves him alone

PG: YEAH why does everyone here do that ALL THE TIME its SO annoyingggg

YN: ikr its insufferable and like super not subtle ANYWAY. spence was being weird and whatever and i just. refused to let him sulk on his own or whatever like i could tell there was something bothering him and so after work i insisted that we were gonna get like shitty diner food or whatever and watch a movie and he knows better than to say no to me

PG: smart boy

YN: so we got fries and milkshakes and then went back to his place to watch a movie and he was still like weird and silent and like brooding yknow? but whatever just figured hed talk about it when he was ready so i put on a movie and offered to make popcorn and then he was just staring at me and he looked so SAD and TIRED and i thought id done something wrong like the poor guy looked like he was gonna cry and i was panicking over fucking popcorn and then he says ‘why are you always so nice to me?’

PG: oh my god hes like if a sad victorian orphan was actually a triplicate phd holder

YN: i was SO thrown off i was like spencer. spencer were best friends. ive been forcing you to hang out with me for years now why do you THINK im being nice to you its bc i care about you asshole and then. like after another million years after letting me sweat it out over whether hes about to cry for like fucking years the asshole grabs my hand and says. i shit you not. ‘you know im in love with you, right?’ !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

PG: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

YN: anyway hes my boyfriend now :’) dont tell anyone tho gotta win the bet

four months.

Lingering by the elevator, you glance around at the uncharacteristically silent office building, waiting for Spencer to leave the bullpen. The sound of his footfalls drawing nearer makes you smile and you mentally applaud yourself for suggesting the two of you remained behind after disembarking from the plane, taking advantage of the manufactured privacy to take the same car home, back to his apartment.

When he sees you waiting for him, he can’t help the soft fond smile that tugs at his face, as he reaches for your hand, sliding his fingers into yours with a gentle squeeze, the quiet of the building allowing him to indulge in the show of affection. You return the squeeze, leaning your head on his shoulder with a yawn and as he presses a fond kiss to your temple he’s rewarded by a sleepy hum of approval from you that sends a rush of quiet joy shooting through him.

“At least we won’t be sleeping in hotel beds again tonight,” you say, voice weary, and Spencer nods as he shuffles you into the elevator. The doors slide shut and the elevator starts to move and in the moment of absolute privacy, you steal a kiss, tilting your chin up to catch his lips with yours, revelling in the soft huff of surprise he lets out, even as he smiles against your mouth. Even after months, the simple act of kissing Spencer still feels new and thrilling somehow, like you can’t quite believe it’s something you’re allowed to do.

His nose brushes yours and he breathes “unless something big comes up, we get a sleep in tomorrow too,” and the way you beam at him sends his heart racing in his chest, unable to look away from the fondness shining in your eyes.

As the two of you exit the elevator and make your way through the Bureau car park, you tuck yourself against his side, wedging yourself under his arm with a happy sigh, eager to get yourself horizontal and asleep as fast as possible. Spencer brushes his lips against your temple again as the two of you close in on his car, almost free and clear of the office when a voice behind the two of you brings you up short.

“Reid?”

Spencer is reacting before his mind catches up, turning on his heel towards the sound of Hotch’s voice echoing through the parking lot, conscious of the incriminating way you’re still tucked against his side, even as his brain is rifling frantically through any possible excuses for the current circumstances.

“Hotch-” you step away from Spencer, cheeks flaming, not wanting to chance a look at him. “I-we-thought everyone else had gone home,” you trail off lamely, trying your hardest not to balk under Hotch’s ominously impassive scrutiny. A second passes, then another, and the short silence feels like months, or years even as the three of you stand locked in a stalemate.

“I take it the two of you would prefer to keep this under wraps?” He asks, finally, and it registers with Spencer, somewhat belatedly, that Hotch’s tone isn’t admonishing. It isn’t enough to dissipate the tension coiling in Spencer’s muscles just yet, but he spares a glance at you as he nods, and a moment later, Hotch gives the two of you a curt nod of his own. “I’ll tell you what,” he says, a shade of irony colouring his voice. “If you two fill out the paperwork for in-team relationships for me, I’ll keep it to myself. I understand privacy is hard to come by in our office.”

The words take a while to fully sink in, and you’re conscious that you’re standing there blinking and gaping at your boss like a bemused fish for a good few seconds before you’ve composed yourself enough to say “absolutely, sir. Of course. Thank you.”

Hotch nods again, heading towards his own car, and as he passes the two of you, a brief smile flashes across his face.

“Congratulations, you two. Get some sleep.”

four months and three weeks.

Spencer isn’t sure how late it is, but he knows you’re not asleep yet, the faint glow of your phone screen casting faint distorted shadows across his room as your free hand rests lightly on his chest. In the dark blue twilight of his room, the space feels undefined and dream like somehow, the line between his mind and his surroundings blurry or indistinct somehow, and as you huff out a near silent laugh at something on the screen in your hand, a thought rises to the surface of his thoughts like flotsam on an unwanted tide.

The more clinical part of his mind notes the autonomic response in his body, the way his heart lurches unpleasantly in his chest, heart rate rising with an influx of cortisol through his nervous system, automatically rifling through ways to control the anxiety response. Age old instinct surges forwards, starting to push his spiralling anxiety down out of sight so as not to bother you with it, but then your hand shifts infinitesimally on his chest, fingers curling in the soft fabric of his pyjama shirt, and for once his body is miles ahead of his brilliant mind, your name is leaving his lips before he’s really aware of it happening.

Your gaze flashes up from your phone at the sound of his voice, soft and hesitant, and you let the screen go dark as you set it down. You can feel Spencer’s heart hammering against his ribs under your palm, and your brows knit together in concern as you shift closer to his side, tracing gentle circles over his shirt with your fingertips, the repetitive motion intended to soothe, though you’re not sure if it’s for his benefit or yours.

“Yeah, baby?” You ask softly, working hard to keep the rising worry from your voice. After three years of friendship and almost six months of dating, you know him well enough to sense when his propensity for overthinking and catastrophizing is slipping out of his control. You can feel his chest rise as he inhales sharply, whatever he’s about to say cut off by second guessing, doing nothing to pacify your concern. “Spence? Is everything okay?” You ask again.

“This-bet-hiding our relationship-it’s-” he trails off, throat tight as he rolls onto his side, facing away from you, and smushing his face into the pillow, already wishing he hadn’t said anything. You’re the kindest person he’s ever met, but offering up this kind of raw insecurity feels like pulling teeth. Even if it’s you. Especially if it’s you. He doesn’t know if he’s ready to find out if you care about him enough to stay when his racing mind gets the better of him. The pillow muffles his voice as he says “never mind.”

You feel your own heart rate tic up in response to that, matching the wild beat of Spencer’s that you could feel under your palm only a second ago. “Baby, talk to me. What’s on your mind?”

He shakes his head, face still hidden in the pillow. “It’s stupid.”

He can feel the rush of your breath on his back as you sigh, and your voice is almost achingly patient as you say softly “it’s not stupid if it matters to you.” There’s a long pause, and you press yourself against his back, settling close and letting your hand slide over his side to rest on his chest, the heat of his skin sinking into yours even through his thin shirt. In spite of his height, he feels so small as you wrap yourself around him, drawing closer, trying to reassure him without yet knowing what he needs to be reassured of. “Spence?”

“Are you ashamed of-being with me? Is that why you want to hide it?” The words are almost whispered, the sound almost lost against his pillow and your heart sinks, plummeting faster and further than if you’d dropped it off the side of a skyscraper. You should’ve known he might worry about that, should have realised it might have felt that way. Remorse rises hot and bitter in your throat and you swallow it down, trying to steady your voice.

“Spencer. Sweetheart. No. Never. I could never be ashamed. I love you. I’m so sorry.” Your arms wrap more tightly around him and you bury your face against the crook of his neck, the tension you can feel in every inch of his body making you feel more cruel and short-sighted than you already do. “I’m sorry I didn’t realise it might feel like that. I could never be ashamed of being with you, Spence. You’re my favourite person.” He takes the kind of shaky, shallow breath that comes with trying not to cry and your heart breaks a little more as one of his hands slowly moves to cover yours where it rests against his chest, just over his heart.

As his hand rests over yours, his thumb strokes lightly along your knuckles, and he knows you know him well enough to notice the way his hand trembles, just a little, because then your hand is shifting against his, turning to clumsily tangle your fingers with his, holding tighter to him as he tries to collect himself, drawing in a deep, shuddering breath as his eyes squeeze shut. He can hear the contrition in your voice as you say softly “I’ve never really liked having people know everything about what’s going on in my life. And I love our friends but-something like this, that’s so-special? So new? I wanted to be able to keep it to just us for a while.”

“I’m sorry.” His voice comes out a little shaky, scarcely more than a whisper, and it’s more than you can take as you pull back and gently force him to roll over to face you. He’s not crying, but his eyes are glassy and you recognise the fight to keep the tears unshed in the tight set of his jaw and the hard line of his lips. Leaning on your elbow, you lift your free hand to gently smooth out the furrows of his brow, letting your fingers linger along the planes of his face.

“Why are you sorry,” you ask gently. “You don’t need to be sorry, baby. Not for talking to me about things that bother you. We can tell everyone else tomorrow, if you want? We can call off the bet. Derek will live. If he’s got a problem with it I’ll turn all his shirts into crop tops.”

He can tell the joke is a last bid attempt to make him smile, to ease his fear, and it works. In spite of the anxious weight in his chest that feels like it’s pressing him into the mattress, Spencer laughs weakly, meeting your eyes, and he watches as a relieved smile breaks across your face, releasing your lower lip from where you’d trapped it worriedly between your teeth. The unmitigated affection that floods into your eyes renders him momentarily breathless as he takes in the moment. You’re still here, still trying to take care of him. Just as kind and steadfast as ever.

“No,” he says eventually, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you down on top of him like a living weighted blanket, letting your warmth chase the bulk of the tension from his body and luxuriating in the way you curl into him, one hand sliding into his hair. “We shouldn’t call off the bet. We still have to take Emily’s money, remember?”

Your sleepy laugh is the last thing he hears before his eyes close and the feel of your body wound around his lulls him to sleep.

five months.

SR: Can I talk to you about something?

DM: you dying or something? that’s a really fuckin ominous text to recieve out of the blue

SR: I’m not dying, why would that be what you assumed? I just have a question.

DM: just a figure of speech but what’s up?

SR: It’s about your bet with Emily. What’re the terms for it?

DM: wym?

SR: What exactly did you two make the bet about? What needs to happen in order for you to win the bet?

DM: does this count as collusion?

SR: Technically yes, but calling it collusion implies a certain degree of illegality.

DM: whatever anyway the terms i made with em were that you’d make some kind of move before your birthday but she reckoned you were gonna need some kind of near death experience to do anything about your crush why?

SR: I’m just making sure I have all the information.

DM: what’s going on pretty boy? you planning something?

SR: Maybe.

DM: not a helpful answer reid is everything good?

SR: Everything’s fine. We’re just figuring some stuff out. Nothing to worry about.

DM: is there something you’re not telling me?

SR: Don’t worry about it.

five months, three weeks and six days.

In the chaos that was the scramble from the briefing room to the jet, you haven’t yet had the chance to speak to Spencer about the outcome of his most recent thesis defence panel. By the time you’ve got a moment to breathe, the jet is underway, coasting across the country towards Montana, the whole team settled in for the six hour flight. You corner him in the tiny kitchen area of the jet as he’s making a mug of mediocre coffee, fingers tapping out an absent minded rhythm on the countertop as the coffee machine whirs, clearly not paying attention to anything outside of his head.

“Hey, boy genius.” He jumps, whirling around, eyes wide with surprise, and you smile fondly. “So?” You demand, and Spencer raises an eyebrow in confusion. You snort, rolling your eyes as you elaborate. “Your defence panel. Did it go okay?”

You’re shifting your weight and fidgeting restlessly with the belt loops on your pants and as he studies you for a moment, it occurs to Spencer that you’re nervous for him over this outcome. The thought brings an almost giddy smile to his face.

“You know this isn’t my first thesis defence panel, right?” He says mildly, deliberately burying the lede, enjoying the way you scowl in irritation too much to answer your question right away, too enamoured with this display of concern on his behalf.

“Don’t be difficult, Doctor Reid. It’s still a big deal.” He just shrugs noncommittally, and you huff, swatting his arm lightly. “So did it go well?” You ask again, eyes narrowing as you try to dissect his microexpressions, trying to discern the answer he seems determined to keep from you for yourself. A few seconds later, he relents.

“I can now add degree number six to my wall.” He confirms. Getting degrees doesn’t hold the same rush of pride for him now, the accomplishment feeling somewhat less exceptional as he acquires more of them, but the way your face lights up with pride for him reminds him how special the things he’s capable of can be. You’ve always made him feel like more than the sum of his parts somehow, like something infinitely more precious than he always assumed he is.

“I fucking knew it. That’s amazing, Spence,” you say, chest warm and full with pride and love, and his almost shy smile in return is enough to make a decision for you in a split second. Your hand dips into your back pocket, drawing something out, and you carefully hide it from view in your palm as Spencer tracks the motion curiously with his eyes.

Your eyes are shining with affection and something that looks like mischief and the way you’re smiling at him is more than enough to divert his attention as you step closer, just barely noticing as you slip something into his hand. You’re dangerously, distractingly close now, and he’s conscious, if somewhat distantly, that neither of you is concealed from the rest of the team, scant meters away in the seating area of the jet. But you’re smiling and close enough for him to feel your breath on his face and suddenly your lips are on his, and even after nearly seven months of being able to touch you like this, it’s enough to make him forget everything else as he melts into the contact, savouring the warmth of your skin and the faint smell of your shampoo.

You pull back a second later, the kiss over almost as soon as it started, but it’s enough to attract attention, and you can hear a belated ‘oh SHIT’ from Emily in the main cabin of the jet. In your peripheral vision, you can see money changing hands, your friends scrambling to react, but you don’t look at them, choosing to enjoy the bemused, affectionate look on Spencer’s face as his brain catches up to the events unfolding around the two of you.

“I was tired of keeping it a secret,” you say fondly, loud enough only for him to hear. “You win.”

Blinking in confusion, he finally tears his gaze away from yours, fingers uncurling to reveal the fifty dollar bill you had pressed into his palm right before you kissed him. The penny drops and he snorts with laughter, shaking his head in half hearted indignation as his other arm loops around you, pulling you in, letting you rest your head on his shoulder, hiding your face from the rest of the team as he kisses your temple, revelling in the way you wind yourself around him in response.

“I was gonna do this in like two days. I wanted you to win,” he murmurs against your hairline, and he can feel your faint laughter.

“Too bad, baby. I’m used to getting my way,” you say, pulling back to steal another quick kiss before peeling yourself out of his arms with a wink, turning to face the onslaught of ‘care to fucking explain that’ and ‘I fucking told you so’ from the rest of your friends, tugging him with you by your joined hands.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid/you #spencer reid/reader #reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #dr spencer reid #my writing #spencer reid fluff

277 notes · View notes

irishmacguirefucker · 4 years

Text

Truths

Or alternatively, Karen jones weasels the ranch plan out of Sean and then has a brief crisis about it

(3150 words! holy shit its long but i hope its a good read bc i worked hard on it and im pretty proud of it. You should probably read Seans hcs first buts its not necessary)

Karen Jones is not a particularly optimistic person. She wouldn't say pessimistic persay, maybe more of a realist.

There were a lot of things she felt were ultimate truths. Women would never be treated equally to men or allowed to vote, she would always despise the hot weather, she would never be good at embroidery, and she would die as she lived. Nothing but another forgotten criminal. Another gang member shot down and swept underneath the rug that was the new century.

She was sure that was what happened to Sean. Dutch says he was captured but in Karens book he may as well have died on that boat job.

But one day, somehow, those truths she clung to seemed to be wavering.

When Tilly and Mary-Beth spoke of the women in Rhodes and San Denis, or even places further like New York, fighting for their right to vote and be equal she tried to brush it off.

But it stuck out in her brain. Was the world changing? Could things be different? Sadie Adler was running around in pants like it already had for her. Maybe she was a pessimist, not a realist.

Things were changing, she could feel it. And not just in the world of politics and women's rights. (not that she thought herself much of a scholar in that area)

There were whispers around camp, Hosea left for a long time and when he came back he had a look in his eye that she just couldn't decipher. But then suddenly that look seemed to be catching on all around her. First in Arthur, though whatever was happening seemed to have put Dutch in a very grim mood.

Next it was John and Abigail Marston. Suddenly they were fighting less, and speaking in low whispers like schemers plotting some plan that Karen was still desperately trying to figure out.

The final straw was Ms. Grimshaw. She had that look in her eyes just like the rest and suddenly she was ordering the girls to start looking for legal money, legitimate jobs for the gang to get done. Suddenly, she wasn't the only suspicious one anymore.

Things stayed that way for a while, looking for legal money with sob stories and not so innocent flirting to find jobs. And it was weird, and suspicious but no matter how much she grilled Grimshaw for it, that woman was locked tighter than the bank safes they used to rob. (Used to. How incredibly odd to think that they aren't anymore)

And then suddenly, Sean Macguire was back. He was alive and safe and only a little worse for wear. Karen Jones' solid truths were all being broken and the return of the man she -was pretty sure she- loved was the last crack she could handle.

She wanted so many things at once in that moment. She wanted rum, she wanted to run to his arms and never let go, she wanted to mount old belle and escape, she wanted to curl up in one of the wagons and cry

But she did none of those things. Instead she took his greeting to her as she always had, sarcastic yet flirty, the way they had always been. Because that little game of thiers, the dancing around each other but knowing deep down (at least she thinks he knows) that she is his and he is hers.

If she changed that game, broke another solid truth that she was desperately trying to hold onto, she would be broken open and the world would suddenly become unpredictable and scary.

So she drank her beer, sat in his lap, kissed Sean, slapped him, kissed him once more and then took him to bed. And while that whole mess wasn’t the greatest experience on her end, she practically had to run from that tent because Sean had about a thousand new scars and bruises and she wasn't about the cry over it in his face. Naked. After bad sex.

After the night of Seans reunion with the gang, he seemed to hang around her a little more. Not much more than before, but now it was rare if he wasn't hanging off her skirts around camp. And she couldn't complain because she did miss him terribly, no matter what she said to his face.

In some ways she found it hard to face Hosea anymore. Right before he left on his apparently life changing trip, she had gotten particularly wasted and cried on the old man's shoulder, clinging to one of Sean’s vests.

She actually admitted, out loud that she thinks she might love Sean, but she was so sure he was dead she didn't know what to do with that thought anymore. That ‘almost’ that was floating in her head as she grieved.

When Sean came back, suddenly the memory of her drunken confession did too, and Hosea always seemed to have this weird soft smile when her and Sean spent time together. So she kinda had to avoid Hosea for a while

At some point she saw Hosea and Sean having what looked to be a deep conversation and she prayed to the god she was entirely unsure even existed that Hosea wouldn't share her secret.

Of course he didn't, and she felt a little guilty that she even thought that about the man who was in so many ways a father figure to her. But he told Sean something because suddenly, even Sean had that look in his eye.

The plotting, scheming, planning look that was catching around the camp like a disease and suddenly, she would pay any amount of money to know just what they were plotting. She knows that it's big, bigger than anything they have even done.

Sean was never able to keep a secret from her for very long. She knew that if she got on his case about it he would likely spill, so thats exactly what she did. But then suddenly Sean was no longer hanging off her skirts, and seemed to be avoiding her as much as he could.

His absence from her side was obvious. There was nobody pestering her (other than grimshaw), nobody sitting with her while she drank her morning coffee, nobody sneaking up behind her to spin her around just to see her get all flushed and mad, nobody to give her a cheeky kiss as he promised not to do it again with his fingers crossed behind his back.

Karen Jones is far from stupid, she knows that she must have been getting close to something if Sean was leaving her alone on his own free will.

So finally she caught him on guard duty. It was near the end of his shift and she made her way into the trees that hid their camp from the world.

She knew what she wanted to say, but once they locked eyes he immediately looked so nervous that she almost laughed at the shifting feet and darting eyes of the man in front of her.

She nearly forgot she had brought him a mug of coffee, and handed it to him wordlessly. He thanked her quietly and then everything was silent. Far too silent to be normal for Sean “I never stop talking even when I’m in mortal danger” Macguire.

“You’re awfully quiet Sean, ain't like you.”

A pause. More darting eyes. “Ah yes well I'm on duty, can't let those bastards out the woods hear me talking up a storm.”

Another pause. A chuckle under Karen's breath.

“Ain’t never stopped you before.”

Briefly he smiled, and looked into the blonde’s eyes. “That it hasn’t Karen my love, but I'm not looking to get another cuff up the back of me head from Hosea for forgetting to keep me fuckin’ mouth shut.”

For a moment he looked like he might start acting normally again before he remembered just why he was avoiding her. Suddenly he was staring at his boots once more. Some guard he is.

“Right. You and Hosea been talking a lot lately. In fact, a lot of people seem to be talkin’ with Hosea ‘cept me it seems.” That was her own fault for avoiding him, but she wouldn't say that.

Sean looked uncomfortable with this conversation, looking past Karen to see if anyone was on their way to take his shift. She hoped that meant she was close to cracking him.

“Ah yes well, you know how it is with the old man. Always wanting to have long discussions about the glory days, or give ya advice ya didn't ask for.”

“I suppose. But you know what I think Sean?”

Sean has never looked this nervous before she thinks.

“What's that love?” Bold of him to ask anyways, she will give him that.

“I think yall are plotting something, and you're keeping secrets Mr. Macguire.”

She watched as the irish man stiffened, took a look around, threw back his coffee and sighed. They both knew he wouldn't be able to keep anything from her for long, perhaps he was finally accepting that.

“I just might be Ms. Jones, but I hardly think it's much of your business to be pryin’ it out of me is it?”

Sean hardly sounded like himself to her ears. Sure, he could be nasty out on a job but never to her. She considered this man to be her best friend, the man she was almost sure she was in love with, and he was slapping her away like she was nothing but a fly bothering him. She can count on one hand the amount of secrets she had ever kept from him.

He always had a way of pulling them out of her, because he always wanted her to be happy around him. He wanted to know her problems not to fix them, but to distract her from them.

She had always thought it was a sort of mutual agreement. They were close. Not just friends but not quite together. Close enough that they had a bond neither could deny. So the idea that hes been avoiding her for some reason and would get so nastily defensive when she asked? It hurt.

But she wouldn't let him know that. That's not how the game works. But suddenly all these changes around her gave her the courage to say screw the game.

“Screw you Sean Macguire. How fucking dare you.”

“Karen-”

“No, you wanna keep your mouth shut about this then you can keep your big mouth shut while i yell at you. How dare you talk to me like that. How dare you keep secrets when never in my life have i ever been able to keep a secret from you. No wait, I kept one secret from you didn’t I? I never told you that I thought you were god damn dead.”

That and the fact that she was in love with him. When did she suddenly become sure of that fact? Not that it matters. She was already saying more than she meant to.

“I thought you were dead in the ground and it damn near broke me. You are my best friend, and you have the god damn fucking balls to tell me its none of my buisness why you wont even look my way for 3 weeks. Go to hell Macguire, you don't wanna speak to me then fine. Don’t. I don't want you around no more either you bastard.”

It took one look at the young man's face to make her eyes start watering, and then she was marching back to camp. Like hell she would let him see her cry after that mess.

She almost wanted him to run after her. To apologise and tell her why he can barely look at her, and hold her as she cried. But he was on guard duty so that wasn’t an option, and that wasn't how their relationship worked.

She didn't see him again for a while. She took the work Grimshaw gave her down to the lake, and watched Jack wade in the water trying to catch a crab or a fish while she sewed up a shirt. When she got up to get more clothes she saw Sean conspiring with Hosea once more and refused to even give him another glance. She watched Pearson fish off the dock for a while, whilst she stitched a blanket, she watched the sun get lower in the sky till it lit up like the campfire.

And then out of the corner of her eye she saw a lanky leg step over the log she was on, and then he was sitting beside her.

She didn't look up. He didn't speak. He nudged a bottle of beer her way, and she took it without a word.

The sun had just barely sunk below the horizon when he cleared his throat and took a breath to speak up. She cut him off before he could start.

“Don’t start Sean, I don't want your damn apologies.”

“Well then it's a bloody good thing I wasn't about to apologise love.”

She wished he wouldn’t call her that. It's not like she exactly had time to process the whole being in love revelation she had earlier.

“What the hell do you want then.”

“I want to tell you a secret.”

She scoffed and started to stand up, but he grabbed her waist before she could, and she looked him in the face for the first time since that morning when they fought. “Let me go Sean Macguire, I don't wanna hear it.”

“Oh hush, yes ya do. I couldn't bloody well tell you this mornin’, it weren't my secret to tell you. But I had a little talk with Hosea, and he gave me then blessin’ to share with you.”

He couldn't tell her because it wasn't his to share. So here she was getting angry at him for something that wasn't even his fault. Not that there was no reason at all.

“Dammit Sean, the hell does that have to do with you avoidin’ me like the god damned plague. You could have said you can't tell me and I woulda’ left you the hell alone about it.”

“Now that is a dirty lie Ms. Jones, I have not successfully kept anythin’ from you in my whole life. You knew what I was going to give you for your birthday the day I stole the damned thing. I wasn't able to risk something this important falling out of my big mouth because you distracted me with your beauty.”

He was trying to abate her anger, and the fact that it was nearly working only served to anger her more. How dare he sit there and nearly make her laugh when he was apparently keeping some giant secret from her.

“Fine Sean. What's the big secret that's been makin’ you run away from me like a dog afraid of his own shadow.”

“Well my love, you had better get comfortable, this is quite the tale and I happen to be quite the storyteller.” And before she could tell him to get the hell on with it, he started doing what he does best. Talking.

It took him nearly a fucking hour to get to the point. He told her everything he knew about the ranch plan, every word Hosea had said to him about it, all the way up to him begging Hosea to let him tell Karen about it. By the time he finished, both their beers were gone and everything Karen had known her whole life was slipping through her fingers like the sand beneath their feet.

“-an’ Hosea says that nobody has to go with him, we can all go our separate ways and such but that's what his plan is. Him and the bloody Marstons and Arthur and everyone else they can get are going with him. And Dutch was planning on telling everyone as soon as we had the money to do it and I only know because I’m fuckin’ excellent at eavesdropping. But Arthur caught me sneaking off and told me to keep me trap shut about it so I did.”

She stared at him in stunned silence. Half the gang was plotting a move to New Austin to start a ranch in the middle of nowhere. Finally she managed to get her thoughts together just long enough to spit out the words “The one fucking time you can follow a god damned direction.”

And that was enough to make him laugh. And he sat there and laughed like they weren't getting their worlds turned upside down.

All the things Karen considered to be complete unbreakable truths were shattering. She was looking at this offer of a real life that wouldn't end in her premature death and it terrified her, but at the same time nothing had ever looked so good.

“I'm still mad that you avoided me like that.”

“Don’t think you've ever screamed at me quite like you did this morning Ms. Jones.”

“I did not scream at you, you were on guard duty.”

“You bloody did. The bird flocked out of the trees. Some broad on the street heard you and said ‘I wonder what stupid bloke pissed of that woman’”

“Are you going? To the ranch with Hosea?” She didn’t notice that over time she had practically ended up in his lap until just now.

“Well Ms. Jones, that all depends on where you're planning on going.”

Sean Macguire had confessed his love to her many times, drunk and sober. But she never thought any of them sincere until now. Here was Sean Macguire, willing to follow her wherever she may go. And it terrified her just as much as the idea of the ranch did. But just like the ranch, nothing had ever looked quite so safe, so sweet, so good.

She knew she wasn't ready to tell Sean she loved him yet. It was nice to know he loved her, and that she was hardly going to get rejected should she tell him. But she wasn't ready yet.

So instead she said “I think that I'm gonna go with Hosea and Arthur and them. To be ranchers or whatever the hell they wanna do.”

“Then I guess we’re gonna be ranchers! Though I was never good with bloody livestock.” and that made Karen laugh good and proper.

Karen Jones feels that a few things will always be ultimate truths. She would always despise the hot weather, she would never be good at embroidery no matter how hard she tried, that Sean Macguire loved her to the ends of the earth and back, and that she loved him too.

Being ranchers meant she would likely never have to lose him again, and so ranchers they would be.

#sorry if theres mistakes and also that its so long lmao #karen jones #sean macguire #rdr2 #ranch au #rdr2 ranch au #rdr2 au #everyone lives #Arthur morgan #hosea matthews #headcanons #fic #au #susan grimshaw

57 notes · View notes

sirius · 4 years

Note

Could I get an imagine where the reader is a muggle American and she’s on vacation in London with her family and she somehow lost her family and she’s like freaking out and then she runs into Sirius on the streets and he like helps calm her down and helps her find her family? Sorry if this is a weird request

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader, James Potter x Lily Evans (mentioned)

Warnings: Swearing, stranger danger too, I guess.

A/N: so sorry this took so long! I loved the idea and I hope I did it justice. I might add to it later on or revamp it bc I love the idea but it’s a big maybe at the moment bc I’m so busy with uni and work and also my other wips. I hope you enjoy this though. Also I changed the request quite a bit bc I forgot what you originally wanted! So sorry!!

just want to add that I did something o probably shouldn’t and included my real life friends! With their permission, ofc. I also made a modern reference even tho it’s supposed to be the seventies but I liked it too much so I left it in ha ha. Also…pls don’t talk to strangers. This is fanfiction people not an advice column.

****

It’s another uncharacteristically warm day in London.

The sun showers blankets of warm golden light over the city, guilding skyscrapers and warming the sweet, honeyed breeze. Sparrows are chirping sweet, morning songs, dancing in the air with surprising grace. Squirrels scamper across lush green grounds in a park nearby, happily bidding you a good morning.

And not one of these motherfuckers are going to help you find your friends.

You wander aimlessly past the same park monument you saw just half an hour ago. Your legs are already aching, your feet are forming blisters that hurt the more you think about them, and the sun is slowly drilling into your soul.

You think you might die of thirst before you find your friends.

In retrospect, it wasn’t entirely Sophie’s fault. While it was her dumb shit idea to tag along with the sexy British tour guide, you, Matt, Aaron, Riley and Reuben had been far more interested in touring the British Museum. So it wasn’t at all surprising when Sophie rushed off with knockoff Colin Firth to have a jolly high tea or whatever it is British people do on dates. Still, it gave you an opportunity to visit the museum.

You hadn’t even walked through the front gates when Matt, Aaron and Riley wandered off to have a deep and meaningful (you had warned Riley that coming on the trip with Aaron would cause some tension between your group. Thing between you and Aaron were a lot more complicated than the five-night-stand you’d shared last year). Reuben, being his usual womanising self, started flirting with the hot receptionist and not wanting any part of that (last time you wing-womaned for Reuben, the chick thought you were seeking a third), you stepped out for some air.

Now, you’re trying to navigate through the urban maze that is London by yourself, struggling to find your friends who are scattered all over the city.

Slumping against a park chair, you take a deep breath and study your map again. A part of you is screaming at you to swallow your pride and ask for directions but you’re a stubborn New Yorker and if you can effortlessly find your way through the Big Apple, you can tackle London.

“You’re not from around here…” says a masculine voice behind you. You sit up straight, whipping around in the direction of the voice.

Holy fucking cucumber sandwich.

The most handsome man you’ve ever laid your eyes on leans against the trunk of an old oak tree, observing you with a mixture of amusement and intrigue. He looks like he chomps down magical donuts that grant him sexy powers. You stare.

A cigarette hangs from his kissable, smirking lips. His hair falls gracefully around his face, framing glinting gray-blue eyes, high cheekbones and a strong jaw. He’s wearing a leather jacket and exudes all types mysterious-sexy-bad boy vibes. You’d bet a hundred bucks that he rides a motorcycle too.

Boys with motorcycles are usually trouble.

Your mouth goes a little bit dry.

“Please don’t be a serial killer,” you mutter and the stranger cocks a perfect eyebrow.

“What was that?”

You shake your head, “I mean — Is it that obvious?”

Sexy bad boy stranger shrugs, “I know a lost tourist when I see one.”

“Is this what you do, then? Lurk around parks waiting for lost tourists?”

Bad boy chuckles — a deep growling sound that rumbles at the back of his throat, “Maybe. Maybe I was just walking past and thought I’d help out a pretty girl in need.”

It takes all of your willpower not to blush now.

“So you’re just a Good Samaritan, then.”

“I’m whatever you want me to be.”

“What if I want you to go away?”

The handsome, young motorbike guy takes a deliberate step forward, “I think we both know that’s not true.”

You swallow. He’s good at this game. Something tells you that you’re not the first victim of his play-boy charms.

Desperately trying to reclaim your composure, you fold your arms across your chest and glare at him.

“What makes you think I need your help?”

British James Dean thinks for one attractive moment, “Well, you don’t have to accept my help but something tells me that if you don’t ask for directions soon, you’re going to end up wandering around London forever.”

He makes a good point.

You stand up from your seat, arms still folded across your chest, “Hypothetically speaking, If I were to accept your help, how would I know that you’re not a perverted serial killer who wants to collect my spleen and leave me in a ditch or something?”

Sexy stranger takes another step forward, “That’d be a shame. You’re too beautiful to kill, and I’m just beginning to like you.”

“That’s exactly what a perverted serial killer would say.”

“Touché. Alright, how about this: I drop you off at your hotel straight away, no detours and no taxi fees that you have to fork out to greedy muggl— erm, I mean, drivers.”

You consider this. He certainly doesn’t seem like a serial killer. Still, it’s hard to trust a charming stranger, especially one as handsome as he is. Then again, if he’s smart — which he definitely is — he’d never kill you in broad daylight in the middle of London.

You uncross your arms and hold one out for him to shake, “Alright, deal.”

Sexy stranger takes your hand and shakes it. His hand is strong and firm and electricity sparks in the warm space where your hands are clasped together.

“Sirius.”

“What?”

“Sirius.”

You blink at him, “Is that some kind of fungal STI that I need to be aware of?”

Sexy stranger chuckles again, “My name is Sirius.”

Sirius? Who the fuck calls their kid Sirius? You have to admit that the name suits him, and the way he says it — in a husky, velvety murmur — gives the name an alluring sex appeal, which sums him up completely.

You consider giving him a fake name but ultimately decide against it. That’s just weird and you can’t lie for shit.

“I’m (Y/N).”

Sirius repeats your name, tasting it on his lips. A more carnal part of you wishes he’d say it in a completely different context.

“Alright, (Y/N),” Sirius smiles, and he practically glows with charisma, “Lets get you home.”

***

You were right, of course. About the motorcycle.

Sirius’ carefully-polished motorbike is almost as sexy as it’s owner; gleaming in the sunlight and flaunting a sleek black paint job with plush leather seats. Several passerby’s stop to admire it (or Sirius, you can’t exactly tell), though Sirius doesn’t pay them any mind. One dudebro with a repugnantly bright tank top gawks at the motorbike while his girlfriend stares hungrily at Sirius.

“I’ve…never ridden a motorcycle before,” you bleat nervously.

Sirius hands you a helmet and smiles.

“Just hold onto me and you’ll be fine.”

Sirius mounts his motorbike and you awkwardly slide in behind him. You’re not sure where to put your hands so you place them on his shoulders. You think you hear Sirius laugh behind his helmet.

Sirius turns the ignition, revs the engine, and kicks the bike into gear.

“You alright back there?” He calls over the roar of the bike.

“Uh—yeah.”

“Hold onto my waist,” he orders, “You’ll be more secure.”

You’re about to protest but then Sirius takes off and you find your arms flying to his waist, gripping on tightly.

It’s exhilarating. Liberating. Intoxicating.

As Sirius weaves between London traffic, you feel a rush of adrenaline pulse through your veins. The air whips past, fluttering around the ruffled trim of your dress. Your hands soak in the warmth of Sirius’ body, his muscles firm beneath your touch.

You pass familiar landmarks and stores you passed when you and your friends took the double-decker bus from your hotel room. You recognise the buildings around you and realise the hotel is just a few kilometres down the street, on the right.

Suddenly, Sirius veers off to the left and zooms down a street you don’t recognise.

“What are you doing? The hotel is up that way!”

“I just have to make a quick stop,” he shouts over his shoulder.

“That wasn’t part of the deal!”

“Don’t worry, it won’t take long.”

You clutch onto him, apprehension beginning to claw away at your lower belly. Where is he taking you? How could you have been so stupid to trust an extremely attractive stranger to follow through with a deal?

Sirius slows the bike down until it rolls to a stop and flicks the engine off, climbing off sexily. He helps you clamber awkwardly off the bike and you tear your helmet off, taking in your surroundings for the first time.

You’re next to a footpath with a view of the The Thames, lined with large ornamental pear trees. Its quite a romantic spot with a view of the entire city sitting pretty behind the flowing River Thames.

Sirius tells you to wait by the motorbike and stalks away, rushing toward a boy who looks about your age. He’s tall, has messy black hair, and half-frame glasses. He looks like a sexy professor with the body of an Olympic swimmer that all the girls have crushes on.

Why are all the men here so insanely attractive?

You’re just about to sink into a delightful fantasy of sexy Professor feeding you grapes when Sirius comes up behind you.

“Ready to go?”

You ignore his question, “Who was the god — I mean — guy that you saw?”

Sirius arches an eyebrow. You notice for the first time that there is a scar knitted into it, “That’s James. He’s a total prat, by the way.”

“Sounds like you two have that in common,” you quip and Sirius mocks offence.

“Anyone tell you that you’re cruel?”

“Everyday of my life.”

“Here I was thinking you were just another hot little American bird.”

For one half of a millisecond, your brain snags on the word ‘hot.’ Did he just call you hot? You heard that right? You recover with grace, grinning wickedly.

“You’ll get over it.”

A teasing smirk flirts around the corners of Sirius’ lips, a little crookedly, slanting lazily in a way that makes your cheeks warm. He looks amused by this verbal tug-of-war but also a little turned on.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel the same way.

“You ever walk along the River Thames?” Sirius asks, sliding his strong, sexy hands into the pocket of his sexy leather jacket. He begins to follow the footpath, leading you past the knots of pigeons and moonstruck lovers.

“No,” you sigh, “Admittedly, I just came along for the underage drinking and the hot British guys.”

Sirius laughs, “How’s that working out for you?”

You shrug, teasing him with a flirtatious smile, “I’m still working on it.”

“If you want,” Sirius begins, clawing at the nape of his neck, “I can help you out with that.”

You quirk a carefully-manicured brow, “What, you know any hot guys like your buddy James?”

Sirius snorts, “I wouldn’t go saying that around his girlfriend.”

“Why, is she the jealous type?”

“No, she’s the ‘try-not-to-make-his-fat-Head-even-fatter’ type.”

You chuckle, intrigue plucking at your mind, “She’s my type of girl.”

“Lily is everyone’s type of girl.”

“Well now I just have to meet her.”

Sirius raises his brows, a spark of hope in his eyes, “Is that your way of telling me that you’re taking me up on the offer for free beer?”

“You never said it was free before.”

“I’m feeling generous.”

“Aw, and they say chivalry is dead.”

Sirius laughs easily in a way that is completely carefree, as though laughter bubbles just beneath his skin, itching to pour out. It’s mesmerising how he doesn’t seem to take life too seriously.

“You are something else,” he says, letting his eyes catch and linger on yours for a quiet, suspended moment.

A gust of warm, summer wind brings peach blossoms raining down. The gentle coo of a skylark echoes in the distance. Time slows to a stop to stare at the two of you.

He steps forward, like he’s about to kiss you.

You let him.

He tastes like liquor and rebellion, a little wild in a way you’ve never realised you’ve wanted, you’ve needed. His hands are strong as they wrap around you, pulling you flush against his chest. Your fingers roam through his hair, tangling, tugging, earning a low groan from the back of his throat. You feel drunk on him, your head spinning and your heart thumping, as though it’s trying to tear through your chest and leap into his strong, capable hands. Suddenly, you realise how weird this is. He’s a stranger you’ve known for an hour or so yet now you’re kissing him. It’s as though you’re somehow drawn to him, to his energy, to the way he seems to know you intimately, in ways you hardly know about yourself. You break away, taking a step away from him. Sirius looks like he’s five again and has just had his favourite toy ripped away from him.

““Are you—?”

Slap

Before you even realise what you’re doing, you’re slapping him across the cheek, not hard but he feels it. You kissed a stranger. That is a thing you did. You also slapped said stranger, partly because of impulse and partly because you’re terrified of how quickly your feelings are beginning to stir for someone you hardly know. Sirius is stunned, silent, staring at you with shock and hurt that stings you more than it should. You stare back, drawn in by every fleck of colour in his eyes, suddenly aware that, sure, he may be a stranger but that doesn’t mean he has to stay one. Obviously, you have a connection.

So…connect.

You crash your lips against his again, throwing your arms around his neck.

Your friends can wait. You’ve found yourself a new tour guide.

#sirius black #harry potter #hp imagines #young sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n #james potter #lily evans #jily #fanfiction #sirius black imagine #the marauders #the marauders imagine #remus lupin #georgie writes

198 notes · View notes

mousehole5000 · 3 years

Text

okay im rewriting tgcf (only in my head im lazy) here are my notes on hua/lian specifically this is long bc fuck it. major spoilers obviously and same trigger warnings as the content of the book

disclaimer disclaimer disclaimer that i dont know anything about the cultural background of anything in tgcf or story tropes etc etc this is just I Think It Would Be Neat If..

there’s not really any reason to keep hc as a kid in the backstory BUT in the story in the intro (which i like narratively) it still says that it was a child who xie lian caught. it’s one of those things that got added to the legend to make xie lian seem even more noble, there are also probably a few other inaccuracies in the intro that get found out as the story progresses. in actuality hc was kind of a known troublemaker to the city guards or whatever or had been in the past. maybe his mother just passed after a long illness and his tumble off the wall was intentional. either way he’s kind of pissed at xie lian for saving him. xie lian is concerned about his health so he has to stay at the palace for a while he recovers and only interacts with xie lian a few times. there is a point where he says out loud all the things about the divide between the rich and the poor that have been illustrated by the scenes with mu qing. feng xin tells him to shut up but mq goes dead silent bc he kind of agrees but can’t say and does have his loyalty to xie lian (its a whole thing) and the resentment begins

also i think young hc’s personality is similar to his personality in the present but a bit more reserved and he’s got like this plucky streak or something. also he is unquestionably gay

anyway hc sneaks out of the palace and xie lian catches him obviously but they have a brief little heart to heart where xie lian is like “look you can go if you want here take this money food” etc and demonstrates that he has actually listened to what hc has to say and hc is like “wow no one other than my mom has ever listened to me in my life so thats what that feels like i kind of like it” and he probably is a bit awestruck by xie lian in different ways and after that is like “okay this kingdom sucks but.. that guys not so bad”

sad ironic sense that if xie lian hadnt ascended until he was older he may have actually be able to do something about the problems in the kindgom but alas we have a cycle to perpetuate

the “take me as the meaning of your life” scene still happens p much the same but xl doesnt recognize hc who is actually now at his lowest point. hc tried to find ways to make things better for people like him but he simply did not succeed (maybe his were efforts quashed by the corrupt authorities? its implied probably) and he’s more disillusioned with the kingdom and life than ever but still is holding on to those memories of xie lian as proof that it doesnt have to be like this but that thread is slipping until!! whose fucking voice is that??? thats right its the one person you ever believed was truly good and went and proved you right by ascending to the heavens at age 17!!! guess its time to stan him forever

anyway hc joins the army but legally or whatever and tbh i would have hated the flower cave scene regardless of anything i just hate any sort of s*x pollen trope or anything so thats gone (they can have a wound tending scene or something tho thats the good shit) and instead we have HL getting overwhelmed by some other demons or something together and xie lian protects hc and they both get injured very badly (maybe hc would lose a limb but im not sure how that would work once hes a ghost so thats on hold for now until i figure it out) and xl is fine but this situation ends up being part of why mq kicks hc out of the army but yes hc still ends up dying on the battlefield anyway </3

the wuming stuff is the same i think but also at some point xl is despairing and says something about that guy he saved from falling and wonders what happened to him and fire ghost wuming is like !!!!! (wait does this happen in canon? honestly it should)

in mount tong’lu i was tempted to actually have hc have a similar moment to the bamboo hat scene with the humans who are trapped in there but im not sure if i just want it to be the same as xie lian’s story... also i like the idea of hc needing to hang onto his devotion to get through his first few centuries of being a ghost so maybe he’s just inspired by xie lian’s sacrifice with the sword and the souls and thats why he claws his own eye out as a sacrifice

so this can go one of two ways from here!!! both are me projecting hardcore so take them with a grain of salt im not saying im right about the way relationships should be these a re just my thoughts <3

1. (the not fun one but it still has a happy ending) the story more or less continues the same as canon. pure and simple devotion is what carries hc through the centuries. we get to see some ghost city antics and its fun but there is nothing complicated about the devotion hc just wants to find xl and protect him. hualian eventually meet. they get along pretty well!! eventually there are cracks. when you hold someone in your mind for so long you have expectations for them that no person can meet consistently. hc thinks that since he’s seen xl during the worst time in his life that he can handle anything but it turns out that as amazing as xl is, he is also just a person and sometimes he is wrong or irrational or annoying. xl is so happy to have someone who will listen to him talk that he kind of neglects to really get to know who hc is as a person and hc is kind of like “huh i didnt expect this but im kind of hurt. i genuinely thought that i just wanted to serve and protect you but actually im my own person and this is weird” but he doesnt say anything he thinks he has to stick to his promise and it gets kind of uncomfortable!! maybe his luck goes haywire bc his faith gets rocked for the first time ever and they end up having to talk it out but their relationship is stronger for it <3

2. (i think this one is fun) hc struggles with waiting. he does it but its hard. he has doubts and when all his efforts to find xl are fruitless he starts to grow bitter and curses the day that xl saved him. his faith burns low but doesnt go out. then ghost city!! hc realizes that he can finally help people like him, even if theyre ghosts now and hes grateful for the chance to do this and grateful to xl and resigns himself to waiting. but its still hard!! he realizes that his luck is tied to his devotion and gets kind of pissed about it!!! he tries to remember all the good things about xl but its hard!!! his search becomes more about repaying a debt so he can be free than anything else, he just wants to help the common people spirits with no strings attached (this actually allows him to keep his luck bc he has the same wish as xl and thats what makes him a true believer!! is this corny? does it make sense? i dont care) and so eventually when he finds xl he’s like okay how quickly can i repay this debt/how can i keep my powers but then xie lian is... so good... and hc actually really likes him he remembers why he swore his devotion in the first place. now hes conflicted!!! dont worry they fall in love tho <3

wow this was really long if you read this hiiiii. anyway when i reread ill try to pay more attention to yin yu and he xuan for hc’s 800 years. hua cheng we’re gonna get you some friends and lore i swear to god

#agenda on the whole: hc character exploration #more ling wen and she gets a gf #i am making fq so fucking canon #sqx also gets a gf it is not [redacted]#less pm less qr #more lady rainmaster esp relevance wrt to agriculture!! it affects so much!!!#mouse mumbles #tgcf textp #move

5 notes · View notes

plainvanillapotato · 4 years

Text

the 100 diaries S2 E4

quarantine diaries: may 27 2020

season 2 episode 4: “Many Happy Returns”

that umbrella is so ineffective there are literally holes. i bet its there purely for decoration. also rey from star wars is that you? a scavenger you are

they found anya and clarke soooo fast. i also love how anya keeps clarke on a leash.

yeah finn i do think that you wanted to kill him. but also “youre not yourself right now”-bellamy. just give finn a snickers and all will be good.

side note: remember when they were worried about winter. look at where these kids are now

“that was rough landing” no shit murphy. you know what murphy you are the comic relief that no one asked for or needed.

wow finn really don’t want to save this girl. finn embracing the darkness. this is not the spacewalker i used to know and kinda like. but this is just very different character pacing for finn. honestly what are the writers doing. he went from carefree/irresponsible fuckboi to pacifist killjoy to now an obsessive boyfriend ready to kill and do anything to get back to his girl. maybe there were some subtle hints towards this character progression but all this in such a short time makes it kinda seem out of no where.

is the electric fence to keep people out or to keep people in?? also it reminds me of Jurassic park

nice hipster clutches raven.

when that boy pulled a knife on jaha. i had flashbacks to charlotte and wells. I was scared.

anya said “down” yeah these two were a furry couple in an au. and when anya really slapped clarke in the face with mud i couldnt help but laugh

that was some thin rope but i guess if thin rope can contain lincoln then ok. this kid clearly did not get an A in earth skills or not at least for tying knots...yeah we all saw that death a mile away. kinda stupid that no one was watching/holding the rope. i really thought someone was gonna grab that rope tho and try to save him before he fell to his death. he really just fell

but also how did the girl get there in the first place you can’t tell me that she landed like that? she also didn’t climb her way up the cliff just to get stuck on the ledge. soooo.....

“im not strong stubborn maybe”-mel (11:57) why am i this girl?

finn is pissed at how long this is taking. but even murphy is for on this? that is when you know your moral compass is wrong.

dead zone. city of lights. more world building. please tell me that we see this city of lights

eat that bug. bone apple tea

jaha’s reaction to zoran wasn’t that bad tho. also not to be political but she said “we’re used to the hatred” to a black man. i cannot help but see the irony.

jaha reconsidering all his life choices after hearing siennas story. especially thinking about wells. yikes. yeah ngl jaha you kinda fucked up there.

ooo a new love interest for raven?? i do like this banter between raven and wick

anya was so ready to kill clarke. straight up grabbed the rock closest to her and was ready to smash. but lucky for clarke and her conviently quick thinking. hard core anya

bellamy made me say cadet kelly who? **sorry could not find a better photo but i kinda like it adds to my cheesy and cheap aesthetic

i cant’ believe theyre holding the rope this time but not for sterling. anything for bellamy tho. they cannot be out there risking prettyboy bellamys life. side note: sorry but what if finn was just like guys lets just let go of this rope and go find our friends bc you know finn doesn’t like this plan because its talking to long. finn was definitely thinking this and you cannot change my mind.

when murphy said “don’t you worry, bellamy. i wont drop you” (19:20) it kinda sounded like a threat but also like murphy was flirting with bellamy. do i ship? no absolutely no. murphy is the one person that i refuse to ship with bellamy. im still salty that he tried to hang prettyboy bellamy

oh yes they are pushing for raven and wick. i also have to mention: raven’s leg is straight up dragging. put on the damn brace. does anyone know how long after the surgery this takes place because damn raven you recover like jasper

when the rope broke and when the arrows started coming. i fell out of my seat. i swear whenever murphy is around anything that could go wrong does go wrong. deadass i believe that murphy is a bad luck charm. hes just needs to leave.

it doesnt help that i reallllly don’t like murphys hair in this episode? what are those? twists?

aww bellamy and octavia are reunited. but tbh their separation wasnt that long

i also have to mention that these kids have really white teeth. they may have grease hair but they have the whitest teeth in the world

raven and wick are really flirting. and i ship. shes needs to move on from finn. ngl i dont know this guy that well but i already like him a lot more than finn.

jaha’s lips are crusty af. someone get him some chapstick

woah clarke. power move. did not think you had it in you. clarke said:

what was that look between bellamy and mel? another ship?

‘what happened to your boyfriend’ is murphy movin in on octavia? another ship?

thats a cute map

Octavia is all of us (well at least me) when she said “really?” in response to bellamy giving murphy a gun. i still do not trust murphy.

girl fight. this was the most violent scene yet. was that last punch really necessary tho clarke? side note: anya when she said “you fought well” was like shang saying to mulan “you fight good” another ship?

byrne nooo!! you may be right but you are annoying me

wow they really turned on jaha. but yes “to survive we do what we must” and you know what that means...wear a damn mask whenever youre in a public area. wash your hands. social distance yourself.

bounty on sky people? why?

sidenote: this desert father looks like a skinny DJ kahlid

anya died too fast and too easily. somebody please say sike. SAY SIKE RIGHT NOW! no actually tho. they did not just kill off this badass warrior with a gun. i refuse. no she has to still be alive. this boss bitch did not just survive mount weather and being hunted just for her to die like this no. absolutely not. she is alive. she has to be. i refuse to believe this death.

#the 100 #the 100 diaries #finn #bellamy #clarke #murphy #octavia #jaha #anya #clarke x anya #raven #wick #raven x wick

13 notes · View notes

slasherscream · 5 years

Note

cooking headcannons with poly Billy and Stu and their s/o? 😎 i feel like stu is the type to flip pancakes super high and get them stuck on the ceiling and billy is the type to just order in bc he gave up after 2 seconds

A/N: you’re braver than any us marine to be in a kitchen with these two

billy loomis x reader x stu macher ft. cooking for (with) dummies

——————–

For this we are assuming you can cook and thus, fair warning, you will always be cooking. They’re not assholes so they’ll totally do dishes for you (Billy will. If Stu can worm his way out of a household chore he will do so by any means necessary) but why should they cook when you’re so good at it? Their logic? Unbeatable.

They both walk away real fast whenever you seem to be about to “teach them” something. They don’t want to know! You’re the chef of this house. Don’t be grouchy about your designation. How about some kisses? Would a kiss make all this free labor better? Stu sure thinks it will.

Billy kinda likes rigid roles in the relationship because it gives him the illusion of stability. So you always doing this one thing in the relationship is like a security blanket of sorts. Please get him some therapy-

Express to him that cooking can be a bonding activity as well as an important life skill to have and you’ve got him! He tends to like lowkey “dates” and more than that he really enjoys “couple activities” though he’d rather die than admit it. It’s because he wants you to spend 100% of your time with him and Stu. Like some kind of exotic leech you can’t get rid of.

Stu is gonna groan because work and he’s never cooked anything in his #Life but you can get him into the kitchen with both promises of affection and by strategically withholding said affection. He’s needy.

So you got them in there! What now? Strap in for the ride of your fucking life buckaroo-

Billy has a lot more cooking experience than Stu but like….not much compared to you. At least in terms of quality if not quantity. Meat. Breakfast food. Pastas. Crappy soup. Enough that if he was living in a college dorm alone he wouldn’t die. Eats raw vegetables (and fruits) but has probably never cooked one I won’t lie.

Only learned and figured out cooking because you know …MIA Mom. His Dad certainly didn’t buck up and learn that particular skill for the two of them. It was either takeout or semi-crappy Billy cooking.

Stu, if he wasn’t living with you and Billy, would have scurvy and he’d be dead. No cooking skills. Can’t cook ramen. Can maybe use a toaster. Perhaps even a toaster oven. If you ever leave him alone he’d die like a tamagotchi but faster.

Takeout and fast food are his only saviors. He knows all the numbers to every place that delivers by heart and he knows closing times and menus too. He survived his teenage years by the grace of his Mother, occasional family chefs, and God.

Start on the basics. Stu knows nothing and Billy is (shittily) self taught. This will be the most maddening part of living with the boys since moving in with them. They are struggling. You are struggling.

They’re good with knives so that skill translates pretty quickly. Everything else is a mess.

Stu you teach one skill and he goes overboard with it. Overzealous … if you will. So yes he will flip a pancake into the ceiling. He’s going to over-whisk/stir everything. And if you need him to chop something?? He’ll just sit there and mince it to shit. Anything you put in front of him. Minced to granule. Very proud of himself.

you: baby i needed it in chunks stu: :D you: nevermind. great job, babe-

He’s so eager to please he’s doing his best and genuinely following all instruction to the best of his ability. If you just hang in there eventually he’ll do everything you teach him to do just the way you taught him to do it. He’s a good student in that sense. Just… hang in there.

Billy can get all the basics of cooking down great. It’s the recipes and seasoning that’ll get him. The finer points of cooking will be his downfall. He’ll rage quit long before you can register his mounting frustration.

The type to not want to do something because they’re not immediately good at it? Billy? Never.

Stick with it and he’ll actually enjoy it to some extent. Doesn’t mind cooking alone but only really likes doing it when he’s doing it with you. He likes the normalcy and familiarity of it. Moving around each other like clockwork. Little jokes. Playful nudges. It’s a routine he’ll start to love, in all honesty.

Wiping down a counter (he’s a clean as you go type) and you pop up beside him with a spoon for him to taste? But wait! It’s too hot so you’re just gonna blow on it for a second first?? He started cool guy smirking like “god look at them” but missed the mark and it wound up a sappy “god look at them” smile.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again he’s a sucker for domestic life. He’s trying to build a love nest and you and Stu had better be on board, eager participants or so help you god-

Stu is good at all things prep work. He can still barely cook honestly but he won’t burn the house down trying to make something basic. He shines at breakfast foods like all men who can’t really cook but like to say they can. Could he offer you a waffle? Grits? Some perfectly cooked eggs? French toast?

If he can be bothered to wake up in the morning before you or Billy he will make you both breakfast in bed. It’s rare because he never wakes up first. Sweet when it happens though.

Always very careful about getting out of bed but Billy is the world’s lightest sleeper so he notices instantly someone’s left the bed. You’re up next because Stu cannot cook quietly under any circumstances. Pots and pans and banging of all volumes come from the kitchen.

You and Billy always share sleepy smiles before curling up together and dozing back off, all the while waiting for your boyfriend to come kick open the door dramatically while bearing food.

Billy eventually gets pretty good in general but he really enjoys cooking you and Stu’s favorite foods. These are things he can cook perfectly with his eyes closed. Were you moping today? Go take a nice, hot shower to relax. Come back and oh wow? Your favorite comfort food on the counter. Where’d that come from?? If you gush over it he acts like it’s no big deal but he loves the praise and loves babying you. Want him to stab whatever made you upset? Just asking! Just as a side note! No? Fine.

Stu cooks/helps you prep mostly so the “who’s turn is it to do the dishes” debate will be more confusing and in the end Billy will usually wind up doing them to avoid a secondary Great Stalemate (there was a lot of bastard energy in the house the first year of living together. it mostly belonged to Stu). Also does them because Billy’s a softie for you ….and Stu, admittedly. Why else would he not stab him when you all know it’s Stu’s turn to do the fucking dishes-

Billy wants to try and cook something new with you once a month. You guys don’t really have set date nights (billy vc: lame) but if you did this would be one of them. Stu loiters but rarely joins the actual cooking process. Mostly just hanging out in the kitchen while you and Billy work your magic. He will distract one or both of you with dancing and singing.

Dancing may begin as lighthearted and goofy but be wary and wise — he can get the drop on you and make it groping and grinding quicker than you can say “burning food-”. Billy? 50/50 chance on him prying you away from Stu and scolding him because you’re both busy or him joining in.

You have all nearly set the house on fire because somehow Stu wound up on his knees between your thighs, Billy’s hands tangled tightly in his hair while he whispered feverishly what he wanted to do to you in your ear.

If it had been a scary movie you all would’ve been killed since you literally didn’t notice the small stove fire until Billy jumped out of his skin with a yelp of, “Oh shit!”

If you don’t live a long life with these disasters you’ll live a short but sweet one together.

——————–

#billy loomis x reader x stu macher #billy loomis x reader #stu macher x reader #billy loomis imagine #stu macher imagine #slasher x reader #scream #slasher imagine #the only task more unbearable and impossible to do with them is driving

512 notes · View notes

therealchoreanese · 7 years

Text

So. . .

When Despero attacked the Hall of Justice with Mal, Karen, Zatanna, M’gann, Billy, and Conner inside it, Billy shazamed from Marvel to his normal 15 y/o self in front of Mal and Karen.

So it was either a spur-of-the-moment type of thing, or Billy trusted the Team enough to tell them that Captain Marvel is actually a teenager.

There are a lot of ways that can go down if you think about it. . .

also, someone requested more billy batson stuff and I hope this satisfies it (if not I can alywas do more XD)

~~~

-i like to think that instead of gathering everyone, Billy tells the people who don’t know (Mal, Karen, Jaime, Gar, Tim, Cass, Barbara, Bart, and La’gaan) individually

-he starts with Mal and Karen, bc he feels like that they’ll be the least shocked, but once he shazams in front of them he finds out that he’s very, very wrong

-there’s a lot that karen can take in stride, but. . . Marvel is actually a high school kid????? what???? what’s the science behind that????? and she’s freaking out, desperately trying to figure out biological processes and all of that shit while Mal is just “OH THANK GOD” bc Marvel beats him in every arm wrestling match which always made Mal frustrated, but Mal KNOWS that he can beat skinny, scrawny, dorky Billy Batson (Billy refuses to arm wrestle Mal when he’s normal, though)

-Billy had planned on telling Cass and Barbara separately, but they were chillin’ together watching a movie when he went to go find Cass (who he may or may not have a crush on ssssshhhhh)

-Of course cassie and babs are all “hey cap wanna join us?” and billy sees that they’re watching the Twilight series (Cassie wanted to try it out and Babs was too tired to say no) so billy just goes “you know, i’m a lot like that jacob guy” and Cassie just snorts and says, “Oh, so you’re a werewolf too?”

-And Billy (who i believe is a little smartass shithead when he’s older) just says, “nope but i can transform like him. SHAZAM!” and suddenly there’s this really dorky cute boy standing in front of Cassie and she’s just all, “HOLY ZEUS-” and babs can’t even talk, she’s just sitting there with an overturned bowl of popcorn, kernels are all over the floor and her mouth is wide open

-the movies are forgotten as the girls start peppering Billy with questions and they can’t BELIEVE that they used to take orders from a guy just a year older than Tim

-speaking of Tim, Billy finds him, Bart, Jaime, Gar, and La’gaan hanging on the beach of Mount Justice, swimming and holding stupid competitions and stuff like that

-When the boys see him they think there’s trouble or some sort of mission but Billy is quick to reassure them (”Nah, I just wanted to hang with you guys for a bit!”)

-There’s complete silence before Bart, being his usual blunt self, says, “Uh, Cap, that’s nice and all, but don’t you wanna go talk with the Leaguers about boring grown-up stuff?”

-And Marvel just smacks himself and says, “Oh, knew I forgot something!” and shazams

-The boys are all flabbergasted to find Billy Batson, just barely below Jaime’s height, standing there looking embarrassed

-Gar is FREAKING OUT and Scarab is screaming inside Jaime’s head and Jaime’s yelling in Spanish for Scarab to shut up and Bart is just jumping up and down shouting “Crash!” over and over while La’gaan is just kind of frozen-

-And then everyone hear Tim snorts. He doesn’t even look fazed, just has that shit-eating “Man, you guys are stupid” expression, looks at Billy, and goes, “Well, took you long enough.”

-And tbh nobody is really surprised that Robin already knew, but it’s kinda annoying to see him with that know-it-all smirk so Billy yells, “GET HIM!” and after like a 0.5-sec pause they all charge Tim and shove him into the water

-they spend the rest of the day at the beach and billy is so happy that he finally found a place outside the League where he can belong

Bonus:

-Gar is very very curious about how it works, so he asks Billy, “Hey, where do your clothes go when you shazam? And what about the clothes Captain Marvel wears? Where do they come from? Do they get washed? Do you have some magical closet to hang them in when you’re not in Cap form?”

-And Billy just gets very thoughtful and goes, “Huh, never thought of it before.”

-Cue more stupid shenanigans from my faves as they try to figure out how the heck Captain Marvel gets his clothes and what happens to them (but that’s a story for another time)

~~~

Hope you guys enjoyed!!!

I’ll try and put more stuff up ASAP. Thanks for reading!

~Miss Eruza

62 notes · View notes

petals42 · 7 years

Note

ok i'm watching big hero 6 with my parents and?? this check please au writes ITSELF has anyone done this??

I don’t think I’ve seen a Big Hero 6 CP AU! It’s all you, bro!

I just have one concern– who are you going to kill????? like who is tadashi in this situation?? Who is Hiro? like, for real, this is the danger of the Big Hero 6 AU imo… you either write an OC which is easier bc everyone is still alive but it doesnt have quite the same emotional impact as killing “one of the gang” as it were… gosh, since I’m on this jack/shitty friendship binge i’m almost tempted to say that you make Shitty Tadashi– aka Shitty and Jack are best friends and Shitty introduced Jack to the wonder that is applied-science (instead of theoretical) and Shitty would be the type to just make a robot to want to help people but then he dies and Jack, who never quite joined the friend group, is force to lean on Ransom, Holster, Lardo, and Bitty for support as he creates a superhero team to avenge his friend…

… BUT THEN THERE IS NO SHITTY BC SHITTY IS DEAD AND EVERYTHING IS tERRIBLE!! (oh shit, plus you could add like… idk Jack is pretty famous in the science world (bring in that hockey pressure from canon CP– its not quite the same as BH6 in which tadashi dies like the minute hiro is discovered but fuck it, its an AU, bro) so sorry this is a hell of a sentence but: Jack is famous, especially for theoretical physics; Shitty is his friend who convinces him that robotics is where its at; when Shitty dies, people aren’t certain why it affects Jack so much (because it’s not like they are related and actually accounts say they just met up a few years ago so, really, the fact that Jack has dropped out of everything is a bit ridiculous, Frank. You’re not wrong, Steve, plus his inventions benefit all of humanity so like… it was a tragedy but I dunno, I think Zimmermann needs to refocus here…) So basically, add to all this the fact that people are pressuring Jack to just go back to work as if work wasn’t only made bearable by the fact that Shitty would bust into his office at least once an hour and laugh with him and all the others seem too intimidated by him but Shitty never was and-and-

It’s Bitty, the tiny scientist who always thought that Jack did Not Want to be bothered, (who specialized in heat ray particle physics designed to like… bake things from afar but remain safe for human flesh?? idk) who finally decides to reach out. With a sympathy pie. Because, yes, they are usually for the family, obviously, but Shitty’s family hasn’t even been by to clear out his office and hasn’t visited him in years and so…

Facing mounting pressure from everyone after a month long sabatical, Jack returns to work– only to sit at his desk and struggle not to either cry or destroy everything. He sits blankly for three days and then suddenly there is this short blond kid knocking on his semi-open door (he always leaves it part way open; shitty would just barge in anyway) and offering him pie. And then Bitty ever so tentatively mentions that no one has been by to pick up Shitty’s things or look at his data and no one was really sure what Shitty was working on but maybe Jack–

Jack didn’t know what Shitty was working on. For as much as the man could talk your ear off, he equally loved playing the “Mysterious Man of Science” at any opportunity. All Jack knew was that “It is going to change the world, brah! Gonna be fucking sick!!!” But Jack will be damned before he lets all of Shitty’s research go to waste and, fuck it, apparently he is a genius. If anyone can figure out what Shitty was doing and finish his work, it’s him.

So Jack goes with Bitty, who is charming and friendly and Jack can’t decide if that’s soothing or if he wants to punch him in the face because dammit, he is sad and mad and, to be safe, he keeps his answers to one syllables. His jaw aches from the effort but at least he’s not crying or yelling so that’s a win.

Shitty’s lab is madness. Partly because it’s the common lab where five scientists work instead of Jack’s private lab/office but also partly because, as Jack sort of knows based on Shitty’s stories, everyone is crazy. Obviously, everyone is a bit subdued because Shitty had died only a month ago but Jack politely asks them what they are working on and they light up a bit at that and, also, keep in mind, they have been leaning on each other for support for this last month while Jack has been alone so they get a bit hyper and it’s like hearing an echo of Shitty. All Jack can think is how well Shitty would fit in here.

And how much he doesn’t. Especially not now. He’s not sure he even wants to. To finally hang out with Shitty’s friends now that Shitty is gone seems like the worst thing he can do. So he nods politely and grabs Shitty’s work (a mid-sized box, a laptop covered in neon stickers, and frightfully few notes, tbh) and heads back to his office.

So Jack meets Baymax and Baymax takes one scan at Jack and tells him he is suffering from Depression and needs companionship (and Jack thinks, no, he needs Shitty) and calls everyone in the lab to come to Office- S01 immediately.

Bitty, Ransom, Holster, and Lardo tumble in and–

“Wow!” Holster says, looking up at Baymax. “Shits never let us see what he was working on!”

“He’s so bouncy,” Ransom says, poking Baymax in the stomach. “I love him already.”

“Surprised Shits didn’t give him a killer ‘stash,” Lardo says.

“Oh, he’s lovely,” Bitty adds, looking a bit close to tears himself.

Everyone is too content to talk about Baymax to notice or care when he stands and closes the door, announcing: “Let’s all have some bonding time!”

Baymax seems blissfully unaware that Jack does not belong in this group. In fact, the group seems blissfully unaware too because they settle right now and start digging through Jack’s stuff and asking questions and even when Jack doesn’t really answer, they let the conversation flow around him so there’s not that much pressure and when they leave, Bitty pats him on the shoulder and says that he should join them for lunch “whenever he would like.”

Jack nods and thinks he’s never going to do that.

What he is going to do is perfect Baymax. He goes through all of Shitty’s notes and then when it turns out most of those are limericks and Pink Floyd lyrics, he hacks into Shitty’s laptop. (The password was “ZimmsAss4ever” which took Jack an embarrassingly short time to figure out bc honestly, Shitty told him that on the daily).

It’s in Shitty’s e-mails that Jack finds the threatening messages. Messages from big evil corporations who are furious that Shitty wants to produce Baymax for free and provide them to low-income area hospitals first and Jack doesn’t want to believe it, but he goes digging– armed with his nanotechnology and then Baymax and, well, he’s going to need help so…

Big Hero 6

#well for those who may be wondering #this is pretty much exactly how my brain works #did not mean for that to get so out of hand #check please fanfiction #my fic #big hero 6 AU #check please #i am just on a real big jack shitty friendship kick right now #though this still makes me sad #Anonymous

241 notes · View notes