I’m still hashing out the details of how 451 Oswald and Jim’s relationship developed but it’s very important for you rn to picture both of them in their mid-twenties, Jim the extremely obviously autistic awkward new cop on the force nobody likes who keeps on getting assignments nobody else wants, Oswald working his way up in organized crime in order to destroy them from the inside out, with his constant I’m-smarter-than-you grin and oddly pointy teeth and mop of curly hair (b/c I’m weak for curly hair, 451 Oz has curly hair) 

and Jim sitting out in his car watching a building where he thinks Crime might be happening, and Oswald pops up outside his window like a jumpscare in a horror movie like ‘HI JIM - stop screaming, it’s just me - OPEN THE CAR DOOR, I HAVE SOUP’

Jim, pressed to the other side of the inside of the car: why are you here

Oswald, pressed against the window: I live nearby and I saw you through the window and you looked cold so I brought you some of my mom’s soup



anonymous asked:

“Thanks for the help.” Apollo was beaming. Daichi felt his happiness could light up the entire cosmos. Almost instinctively, he leaned in for a little kiss on the cheek, just like he used to with his mom. Only this time, it wasn't his mom and this kiss wasn’t on the cheek. He realized his mistake far too late. His thoughts quickly shifted from ‘Holy shit, I'm gonna impress the dads’ straight to ‘Holy shit, the dads are going to murder me.’ The two gawked at each other in shocked silence while


Here’s a quick Shieldshock snippet. (I’ve been working on a Big Fic, but it likely needs another 10k words before I start editing. I’m glad to be writing again, even if it’s just tiny fics right now!)

Originally posted by tvdads

Darcy was exhausted. It had been the absolute worst day. Her morning started with spilling her coffee on her new jeans (thank Thor it didn’t get on her laptop.) Her computer had eaten half of her 50 page paper anyway. Steve was supposed to meet up at her place but when he didn’t show she was forced to find her way to the tower on her own. At rush hour. Ugh. On top of everything, her phone battery died as soon as she got on the bus. Maybe she should’ve taken Stark up on his offer of a new phone.

She closed her eyes for a moment and leaned against the wall of the elevator as it took her up to Steve’s apartment. Soon she’d be able to sit on his couch and have a drink with her feet up and not have to carry her books anymore. Thankfully the tower elevators were fast, and in almost no time she was at Steve’s door. She scanned her thumbprint and let herself in, kicking her shoes off onto the mat.

“Where the fuck have you been? I’ve been worried sick.” Steve stood in the middle of the room, phone in hand. Agitation and fear rolled off of him in waves. The phone made a concerning crack noise in his clenched fist. 

“Home. Where the fuck have you been?” If he was going to be a snarky asshole, she would give it as good as he did. Darcy was all out of patience. She dropped her heavy backpack on the floor behind her and turned to look at him again. “I was at my apartment, where you were supposed to be three hours ago.” She planted her hands on her hips so she didn’t succumb to the urge to throw something. “You don’t get to be mad at me for not waiting any longer.”

“The apartment? Fuck, Darcy. Your apartment doesn’t exist anymore.”

She stilled, her breath catching in her throat. “What?” It sunk in that he was wearing full Cap gear covered in dust and slime.

“The building was destroyed this afternoon. Those things we were fighting, the reason I was late… the fight ended up in your neighbourhood, and the building was destroyed. I thought you were - I didn’t know if you were inside.”

Darcy wanted to say something comforting but the words disappeared, replaced instead by the heavy sick feeling in her gut.

the-fandom-candystore  asked:

Steve/ Bucky: things you said that I wasn't meant to hear. Hey!

“I’ve loved him since… before.”

Steve’s words to Natasha were still rattling around in his head. He’d known they hadn’t been meant for him to hear, but that hadn’t stopped him listening in anyway. The whole hiding in the shadows thing was proving harder to break than he was willing to admit to himself.

He heard the steady thud of Steve’s footsteps and darted back to the window. He stared out over the New York skyline. It wasn’t the New York he still had broken memories of. It was too tall and too crowded and too wrong, but whenever it got overwhelming his eyes would seek out something familiar in the landscape and he’d be grounded.

Steve was standing behind him, about four feet away and a little to the left. He didn’t even need to look into the reflection of the glass to know. They were helping him get his memories back, but he hadn’t lost the reflexes that had been programmed into him yet. He kept staring outwards, trying to ignore the pounding of his heart in chest. It was rare his pulse jumped like this, but apparently all the brainwashing and training in the world was no match for emotional nerves.

“Buck… uh… James… er…”

He couldn’t help it. He laughed softly. Turned around. Studied Steve for a minute.

“Bucky’s fine, I think. Feels okay. Familiar.”

Steve’s smile could have lit up the room. “Alright then, Bucky. How are you settling in?”

He looked around, studying the huge room they’d given him. He was under no delusions, knew the room was full of surveillance equipment. He was free to come and go throughout the building, but there was always someone or something watching him. He shrugged.

“It’s big. Soft. Quiet.”

The smile Steve gave him, smaller now than the last one, and a little bit sad, said it all. It was too much space, not enough noise. Steve knew. Probably thought the same thing. Give him the noisy, smelly chaos of the barracks any day.

Facing the window again, the words slipped out of his mouth before he realised what he was saying. “I heard you before. With Tasha.” He couldn’t take it any more. He felt Steve freeze next to him.

“Buck, I’m sorry. I didn’t think… guess your hearing’s better than mine, too.”

He turned, hoping to look into the eyes of his oldest friend, but Steve was staring resolutely at the floor instead. He sighed, stepped in close to Steve, and tipped Steve’s chin up with one finger. Steve’s eyes met his, full of confusion and a little bit of hope.

He leaned in, pressed his lips gently to the corner of Steve’s mouth, felt Steve gasp against him before relaxing.

“I don’t remember much, Stevie. But I remember this.”

somefandomsandpuns  asked:

Forehead kiss ty / nick

The room was dark and silent, save for the blinking, beeping machines that were there mainly to assure Ty that Zane was still alive. Go figure, that for everything they’d been through, it would be a fall off a ladder in the bookstore that had put them here tonight. He chewed on his lip, drumming the fingers of his free hand on his thigh. His other was tangled up with Zane’s hand, the one not currently filled with needles and tubes.

Mara and Deuce had come and gone, and Annie was back at their place sleeping for a while, and Ty relished the relative peace and quiet. He needed to have a minor breakdown, and he needed privacy for it.

His momentary solitude was interrupted when the door to the room opened. The bright lights in the hallway cast the person in shadow, but the fluorescents gleamed off a mop of immediately-identifiable bright red curls.

“Nick?” Ty’s voice cracked slightly, out of both pain and lack of use. “I… I didn’t think you’d come.”

Nick sighed heavily but otherwise made no noise as he crossed the small, cramped hospital room. He kicked the free chair over next to Ty, but before he sat down, he stood in front of Ty, staring at him for a moment before bending down and pressing his lips to the clammy skin between Ty’s eyes.

“Tyler, you’re an idiot. Things might be going to shit right now, but you’re family. He’s family. Of course I came.”

ionswitch-deactivated20170708  asked:

Rey, BB8, "that's the last time I trust YOU with a secret!"

“What’s this?” She doesn’t actually wait for an answer, just pulls at the paper packaging, tearing a long opening in it to reveal… “A helmet?”

“I know you miss some of your things from Jakku,” Poe says. “And I feel like it’s partly my fault you had to leave in a hurry – I mean, because of BB – so…”

Rey frowns at him. “You know about my old helmet?”

He frowns back. “Am I not supposed to?”

There’s a very quiet whistle from around knee level; Rey looks down toward it to see BB-8 inching away from her. She’d swear it’s trying to look nonchalant.

“Oh,” Poe says; when she glances back up, she sees that he’s also looking down at BB-8, his arms folded across his chest and one eyebrow cocked. “That was a secret, huh? You little – no, don’t try to hide behind me, come back out here and tell Rey you’re sorry.”

BB’s response is a long, mournful whistle. Rey bites her lip to keep from laughing; after a moment, when she thinks she’ll be able to keep a straight face, she says gravely, “Yes, you are a very bad droid.”

That gets her a snort from Poe – which he tries, unconvincingly, to disguise as a cough – and an even sadder whistle from BB-8, and she can’t keep it up any longer; she leans down, laughing, and pats the droid on top of its little dome. “No, I’m not really angry,” she admits. “It is a really nice helmet – thank you, Poe.”

“I’m glad you like it,” Poe says, grinning. “And I’m sorry about BB. She means well.”

Rey shrugs. “I’ll know better than to tell her any more secrets, I suppose.”

bibliomatsuri  asked:

tinyfic prompt (for deadline-from-hell antidote): Maddie, caramel

“I’m going to be in the kitchen for a while!” Maddie shouted to the house at large as she circumnavigated Jazz’s study space to get through the living room.

“I’ll warn Danny to stay away, then,” Jazz grumbled after turning the page. “Making fudge again?”

“Yep!” Maddie replied. “Your father’s running a bit low and… wait, how did you know?”

Jazz snorted, making her highlighter jump up a line on the page. “Uh, well you don’t really make anything else,” she said, trying to rub out the florescent orange. It wouldn’t budge.

Maddie paused at the kitchen doorway. “That’s not true. I make lots of things, sweetie.”

“It’s actually mostly fudge and dinner. But since it’s only two o’clock…” Jazz trailed off, realizing that the next paragraph in the textbook was also important.

Maddie’s forehead scrunched up in thought. “You know, I guess you’re right. I haven’t made my cookies in a while. Or the pumpkin cheesecake. Or… oh, I can’t even remember the last time I made caramel! You know, I used to be famous for my caramel in college. I made a plate for Jack, actually, when we started dating…”

“That’s nice, Mom,” Jazz said absently.

“You know what? I’m going to make some caramel,” Maddie decided.

“As long as it isn’t mutant hot dogs, I’m good with it.”

“Well, no one’s been eating them…” she lamented.

“That’s because they’re mutant. hot dogs,” Jazz pointed out, shaking her head at the obliviousness of their family sometimes.

“Haven’t they stopped growling yet?” Maddie mused, opening the refrigerator door. The hot dogs all surged for her hand with their little fanged teeth and she promptly kicked the door shut. “Guess not. Well, some nice caramel should be safe.”

Fifteen minutes later, her opinion had changed completely.

Jazz wasn’t entirely sure how everything her mother touched managed to become at least vaguely sentient, but fudge seemed to be about the only constant exception.

The caramel, despite Maddie’s most forceful efforts with a wooden spoon, and then her hip blaster, sludged up the sides of the pot nearly as soon as the sugar had melted, oozing slowly, but determinedly over the counter top and anything in its way in an effort to get out the window.

As soon as she heard the commotion, Jazz had joined in the fray as well, wielding a broomstick with more skill than she should have possessed. Thankfully, Maddie was more occupied with containing the caramel sludge to notice her daughter’s growing combat skill.

It seemed to speed up every time Maddie shot at it, though, and cookbook blockades didn’t stop it from pressing itself out through the screen of the open kitchen window.

From there, it disappeared from view, possibly sticking to the side of the house, perhaps fallen into the grass.

Maddie and Jazz stared at each other, breathing heavily in an unbelieving silence.

Then Maddie ran for the basement, throwing open the door and shouting, “Honey! Got a problem!”

Jazz cringed and made a speedy exit up the stairs. Before finding sanctuary in her room (just in case the caramel goo was still attached to the house when her parents decided to attack it), she knocked on Danny’s door. It was closed, but then again, it was whether he was home or not and she didn’t know what his plans had been that afternoon.

He told her to come in, though, so she sheepishly stuck her head in and grinned.

His face fell before she even had a chance to begin.

“Uh, hey, little brother! So, yeah, Mom may or may not have created a sentient glob of caramel that escaped out the window and, uh, it may or may not seem to gain power when shot at with ectoplasmic based weapons and, um, Mom may have just gone to get Dad to take care of it. So… I think you may have a new ghost to dealwithtonightsorry!”

(Danny texted Sam and Tucker to give them a head’s up that he’d probably need them on patrol that night to track down a culinarily created ghost. He face-palmed when they both responded “sweet”)

writingabeautifuldisaster  asked:

Ty & Zane + 11

(11: Collarbone Kiss)

The tattoos had finally healed, and Ty was finally going to let Zane see what the hell he’d done to himself. He sat down on the sofa and pulled his shirt up over his head, keeping his back angled to Zane.

“Hurry up, baby. It’s been too long since I’ve seen you topless.”

Ty chuckled, but still hadn’t turned around.

“Just… promise me you won’t think it’s silly.”

Zane stroked the small of Ty’s back, thumb rubbing little circles just above the low band of his jeans.

“I promise.” Zane meant it, too. Whatever Ty had done was obviously something sentimental, and Zane knew whatever it was would make him happy.

Slowly, he turned around, shifting on the sofa so they were facing each other. Below each collarbone, in blocky handwriting he recognised as Ty’s own, was a set of coordinates. The ones on the left, over Ty’s heart, he knew immediately; the bookstore. He smiled, his heart fluttering in his chest.

He studied the other set for a moment. Too close to be anywhere in the Middle East. He did a bit of quick math. Too far north to be West Virginia.

“New York?” His math seemed to add up, but he was hesitant.

Ty nodded. He brushed one finger over the coordinates.

“Where we started." He dragged his finger slowly across his suprasternal notch and down over the numbers on the left. "And where we’ve ended up.”

Zane swallowed a breath, overcome with something he couldn’t quite explain. He leaned forward, tongue running over his bottom lip, and looked up at Ty through his lashes. Slowly, he placed one deliberate kiss over the first set of coordinates, and then the second.

daisy-is-not-a-flower  asked:

that last hospital scene. omfg. i want a goofy kiss Ty/Zane after Zane is ok (maybe when he leaves the hospital). because my feels are everywhere. and and i need closure. yes. please. :) he... omg. he ... he needs to be ok. *sobs*

Follow-up to this, because I am not actually a terrible human being.

The two of them sat in utter still quiet, because despite everything, Nick still knew Ty, and still knew what Ty needed. A nurse had been by a few times to check on Zane, and the prognosis was looking better. He’d landed on his head and clipped the glass coffee table on the way down, but the scans showed no significant swelling on his brain, and they’d managed to remove all the bits of glass without damaging any serious internal tissue. Of course, this was still all noise to Ty, roaring in one ear and out the other.

She’d tried to get Nick to leave, since visiting hours were long over. Nick had lied boldly to her face, telling her they were brothers, but the ice in his voice and the expression on Ty’s face pushed her to drop it.

Suddenly, there was a sharp spike in the even beeping tones of the heart monitor, and Zane struggled to sit up. He was clearly disoriented, and Ty jumped up, placing one hand on Zane’s shoulder to try to keep him still.

“Hey, baby. Everything’s okay. You tripped. Do you remember anything?”

Nick snorted at Ty’s understatement, but kept quiet otherwise.

Zane blinked slowly, taking in his surroundings. He went to raise his arm and grunted when he found it tangled up in an IV line. “I… I remember being on the ladder. The rest is… fuzzy.”

Carefully, so as not to hurt him, Ty hovered over the bed and kissed Zane soundly, square on the mouth, careful to avoid the cannula blowing air into his nose. Zane startled for a moment before kissing back, and then burst out giggling, interrupting the tender moment.

“What’s so funny, jackass?”

“S’ not just my head that’s fuzzy. You too.” He squeezed Ty’s hand and brought their twined fingers up to stroke Ty’s cheek. He hadn’t had time to shave since the fall, and he was getting pretty scruffy.

Zane laughed again, and winced as some pain shot through him.

“I think that’s enough morphine for you, mister. It’s really not that funny.”

Zane opened his mouth to argue, but as he did, his eyes fluttered shut and his breathing steadied out. Ty hit the button to page the nurse, to let them know Zane had woken up and find out if it was alright for him to nod off again.

As things settled, relief and fatigue flooded through Ty’s body and he settled carefully on the edge of the bed, never once letting go of Zane’s hand. Nick reached over and patted his knee in a fond, familiar gesture, and then stood, slowly unfolding himself from the chair. As he got up, he wrapped his arms tightly around Ty’s shoulders, and Ty could feel him trembling slightly.

“O?” Ty didn’t elaborate, he didn’t have to. Nick knew everything he was asking.

“I’m gonna go call Kels, let him know everything’s okay.”

“Is it?” Ty’s voice waverd slightly.

Nick stared down at him, smiling gently. His eyes gleamed green in the half-light coming in through the hallway. “It’s getting there.”

Ty’s heart thudded erratically as he watched Nick’s retreating form. He’d got two second chances tonight, and damned if he was going to fuck either of them up.