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gallusrostromegalus · 10 months

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If you are still taking questions, could I ask about Uryuu? Or Mizuiro, I have always loved him and wanted to see more of him.

The day after The Stabbing Incident in which Ichigo's Shinigami Powers were activated, Lunchtime:

"Rukia!" Ichigo called from the door. "We got a club meeting!"

"What? Oh, right!" She giggled, all bubbly persona, which immediately vanished in the hall "-You signed me up for a club? Ichigo, you know I don't have time for extracurriculars!"

"Calm down, this one doesn't assign homework. We just meet on the roof for lunch." He explained, marching resolutely against the stream of traffic in the hall.

"Oh? Up to something illicit are you?" Rukia teased, ducking behind him to avoid being swept away.

"Nah, we just meet on the roof so Kon can join us." Ichigo shrugged kicking open the door to the roof.

" 'SUP NERDS!" Ichigo bellowed affectionately at the gaggle of teenagers already assembled on the roof. "Okay Rukia, this is the "I Can See Ghosts And It fucking Sucks Club", guys, this is Rukia."

"Hi miss Rukia!" Waved a readheaded girt that puberty had hit like a truck.

"-Rukia is a shinigami like the freak that used to live in my dad's attic, and last night one of those bigass monster ghosts attacked my fuckin' house and Rukia kinda accidentally-on-purpose stabbed me and now I got fuckin' shinigami powers, which is mostly being able to ditch my body and summon a bigass sword to kill the monster ghosts with."

Those assembled stared at him in silence.

There was a rattle and Kon appeared at the top of the chain-link fence around the roof. "You know Ichigo, I think I know why your Literature class grades suck." the cat sighed. "Rukia got injured and used her magic sword to transfer her powers to Ichigo to fight off the hollow, and accidentally gave him too much and now she's stuck here until the Shinigami skills bleed back out of Ichigo."

"Ohhhhh..." the group nodded.

"-By stabbing me." Added Ichigo. "I feel like the stabbing part is being lowballed here."

"Welp. time to reset the counter." Sighed a lightly disheveled young man with brown hair, and the youthful looking lad with black hair beside him opened his laptop, typed for a few seconds and then turned the screen to show the group a digital counter that read

DAYS SINCE OUR LAST SUPERNATURAL NONSENSE AND/OR GRIEVOUS BODILY INJURY: 0

Previous streak: 17.324 Days.

"Thanks. Very helpful." Sighed Ichigo. "Tweedle Dee and tweedle Dumbass here are Mizurio and Keigo."

Ichigo pointed to the brunette. "Keigo here comes from a long-ass line of psychics and has been documenting every instance of supernatural activity in Karkura town going back to the middle ages since he was like. Ten? Don't let the fact that he's deliberately failing out of school fool you, he's probably the world's most brilliant moron."

"Iiiiiichigoooo, why you gotta make me sound like a loser in front of the actual-factual ghost girl?" Keigo whined.

"I'll stop making you sound like a loser when you stop being a loser." Ichigo huffed, and pointed to the black-haired youth beside him. "Babyface McGee here is Mizurio, he's our other technology geek, and he can cast Summon Gun."

"Pleasure to meet you Miss Rukia!" Mizurio said, extending his hand politely. "If you need some armament against the- what did you say they were called? Hollows? - I can provide you with something. First one's on the house, as my Uncle says."

"Oh!" Laughed Rukia. "By 'summon gun' you mean you have a way of purchasing weapons! I thought for a second you had the magical ability to spontaneously manifest guns or something ridiculous like that!"

The group collectively grimaced at her, except for the silent Giant, who was too busy snuggling Kon.

"Have you ever fired a weapon like a handgun Miss Rukia?" Mizurio asked holding his hand up beside his head, as though holding up an invisible object.

"Uh." Said Rukia, staring at his hand. ""...No."

"In that case I'm going to reccomend a Glock-17 lightweight pistol-" Mizurio nodded, and a small, bright blue light ignited in his palm, swirling and drawing Reishi into it, forming a physical object.

"-it's very reliable and easy to sight accurately, and doesn't have much of a kickback so I'm confident you'll only need a little practice to be able to handle it reliably!" He smiled cheerfully as the object finished manifesting in his hand, and he easily unloaded it with a practiced motion, set the saftey out of habit and offered it to Rukia to inspect.

"UH." Said Rukia, recoiling from the weapon with alarm.

"Oh don't worry!" Mizurio chirped. "Any gun that I make- And I make them, not summon them- has infinite ammo once the clip is loaded, and it's perfectly effective against hollows! You'll be perfectly fine using it!"

"I- You- I mean-" Rukia sputtered, staring wide-eyed at the gun. "-Did you. Learn? to do this?"

"Hm-..." Mizurio frowned at the gun. "Well, I've gotten better at it over time, but it's not like anyone taught me, if that's what you mean."

"Uh-huh." Rukia nodded, teeth bared in an attempt at a smile that completely failed. "You. Uh. You got any German ancestry?"

"Oh, I wouldn't know!" Mizurio laughed. "I don't actually know who my father is, and I strongly suspect he doesn't know his father either! Why?"

"...Mizurio, I think you're a Quincy."

---

Downstairs in the lunchtime meeting of the Karkura High School Crafts Club, Uryuu Ishida sneezed in the middle of a demonstration of different stitch types, and knocked over a large bottle of glitter, coating the entire room.

"...That's a bad omen if I ever saw one." Muttered one of the girls, sparkling.

---

"What's a Quincy?" Mizurio asked.

"It's a- Okay, before I start an explanation, is there anyone else here with weird supernatural powers?" Rukia asked.

There was a whirl of energy behind her and she turned to see the Silent Giant that had been cradling Kon had manifested a strange, sleek armor over his right arm. Kon was still cradled like a very spoiled infant in his left arm, purring.

"Hi. I'm Sado Yasutora, but I go by Chad." he spoke, voice barely above a mumble as he cautiously peeked up at Rukia through his bangs. "This is my punchin' arm."

"...Great." Whimpered Rukia.

#AEIWAM #an elephant is warm and mushy #Bleach #bleach fanfic #ishida uryuu #ichigo kurosaki #Mizurio Kojima #Keigo Asano #chad yasutora #Making Mizurio the most found-in-a-taco-bell-dumpster Quincy ever is so fun

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karkatbug · 9 months

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🦀⛽️🕶️

They've rented a cottage for the long weekend. It's a bunch of them, they're college kids so they lie about the number of guests, of course, but it is the only way they can afford the place. There was plenty of room if people didn't mind sharing beds. Dave wasn't that close with most of the trolls joining them, but he's chill about it. He'd stick with his friends and give whoever looked in his direction an aloof nod of acknowledgment or whatever the fuck. The occasional awkward interaction was to be expected.

What he doesn't expect is one of the few trolls he did know well to pester the group chat and ask for help. The dumbass apparently slept in. He was also supposed to drive Terezi and Sollux, both of which found last-minute rides when he didn't answer them in the morning. He was on his way on his lonesome, which, fine. Glad Shouty McGee was going to make it to lunch with zero complaints, surely, but whatever. What catches Dave off guard is the fact that he's on his phone. Karkat was pretty fucking anal about texting while driving.

Apparently, he's stuck in the middle of the highway. Out of gas? Seriously? How unprepared could a guy be for a trip he had personally put so much effort into planning! That was like forgetting to attend your own birthday party. We're all here with our silly hats, Karkat. Get it together, man.

Dave is voluntold by his friends to buy some gas at the stop they're currently stretching their legs at and make the arduous trip to wherever the hell Karkat was stranded. That's what being physically fit got you, apparently. He eyes the Buc-ee's begrudgingly, wondering how much brisket it would take to forfeit him from his role.

No amount of gas station beef would ever be worth the sacrifice of his bowels, he concludes.

It takes him a bit of illegal jogging along the side of the highway, a few cases of being honked at and resisting the urge to flip them off, and a lot of time (an hour and twenty-four minutes to be precise), for him to make it to Karkat sitting on the roof of his car dejectedly.

He is uncharacteristically silent when he and Dave fill his tank. He thanks him and they're off to the rest stop they planned to meet at.

"What's up? You definitely crapped the bed at about every turn you made today, but you usually don't let that shit stop you from verbally assaulting my hear ducts."

"Just say ears," Karkat mumbles. His bags are darker than usual. Hair messier, frown deeper, brows furrowed and grip on the steering wheel turning his gray skin translucent. Dave eyes the veins on the back of his hands curiously.

"Are you okay, dude?"

Karkat quickly glances at Dave then back to the road, eyes momentarily widened by, what, surprise? "Like you give a shit, Dave. Let's just try to remain civil until the fucking cottage and then we can fuck off to our sides of the forest like some bad re-enactment of... of—"

"Oh fuck you can't even come up with an indiscernibly pathetic excuse of an analogy. I'll find us the nearest hospital."

"Fuck off, Strider! I'm just tired."

"Yeah, no shit. You like, never sleep in. You never sleep period."

Karkat hums. The sound has Dave putting down his phone and observing the other carefully. This is probably the first time he's sat alone with the other. This is definitely the first time he's given him his undivided attention. Something aches in him when he looks at Karkat.

They make it to the rest stop and find out that their friends had met up and left together to accept the key from the Airbnb owner at their previously agreed time. It's not ideal for Dave. Part of the trip he most looked forward to was being on the road with his friends, not fucking Karkat Vantas, but he was out of options and he wasn't about to be a wet blanket about it. They get some human slash troll fuel in the form of sandwiches and coffee, and head back to the car to fill the tank. Dave leans against the side of the trunk while eating his breakfast and simultaneously talking Karkat's ear off about the things he learned that morning, sensing that the other needed a distraction.

Jade's TA broke his tailbone and canceled lab on the day of the exam review, and may or may not have given his students the test bank as an apology, which Karkat is going to appreciate during the next semester when he takes the course. Karkat definitely perks up at that, which is good. A first sign of life behind those defeated eyes!

Dave also tells him Rose keeps talking about Kanaya's thesis which Karkat grumbles Jesus, same here, with the suffering being in reverse. He gets some grade-A Karkat complaints out of that one, which is fan-fucking-tasking. We're almost back to normal.

Finally, Dave drops a bomb. Turns out John dropped out of school? Like, a month ago?

"What?!"

"Yeah, fucking join the club, dude. We're still trying to figure out what the fuck happened there."

"Why? He wasn't failing out or anything! He always had his shit together too. He was doing better off than most of us fuckheads."

"You're preaching to the choir, man. I'm thinking we give him some pure vodka and speedrun getting an answer out of him this weekend."

"I'll hold him down while you funnel it in his mouth," Karkat answers seriously. They snort in unison. It's not that serious. It's sad, yeah. There's that silent understanding that John wasn't okay at all, but Christ what can you do in these kinds of situations but cope with a little humor? Karkat returns the pump and takes the sandwich Dave offers him without a word. They move the car to the parking lot and eat in silence for a moment. It's surprisingly nice. The sky is blue, the morning chill is still there since Karkat has his windows down, and they can hear excited chatter among chirping birds in the background. It was still the road trip experience Dave sought. It was nice. Even if it was with Karkat. Dave looks over to him, and can't get that aching feeling out of his heart.

"How are you doing with school?" he asks.

Karkat glares down at his sandwich. Dave thinks he's not going to get a response, but the fight seems to leave Karkat with the exasperate sigh he lets out. "I'm okay. I'm not about to drop out or anything. Just tired."

"Yeah, I feel you."

"It's a lot to fucking juggle."

Dave nods. They eat the last of their sandwiches and sip their coffees. The smell of diesel fills the air, but it's easy to ignore now that they've sat in it for so long.

"I just wish I was doing it better."

"It?"

"Everything! Academically, socially, fuck, romantically. I thought I'd be doing it all so differently."

"Your romcoms have poisoned your brain, Karkat. Elle Woods isn't real, dude. She can't hurt you."

"She'd never hurt me."

"You'll never be her, either."

"Fuck you! Now I want to watch Legally Blonde but I have to sit with you for another hour and stare at nothing but concrete and play is it garbage or roadkill?"

"Okay, first of all, it's always roadkill."

"Eugh."

"Secondly, I can reenact the movie from memory on our way to the lakehouse if you want. I'll even do different voices."

"That sounds awful," Karkat says with a smile. Dave catches himself grinning too. The ache has settled when they take one last bathroom break and stretch their legs. Dave sees Karkat's exhaustion for what it is, a tired nineteen-year-old who needs to catch a break, and insists on driving them the rest of the way. Karkat, for as good as he thinks he is at debating with others to get his way, stands no chance to Dave snatching his keys out of his hand and holding them out of reach above his head. Take that, you petite little idiot. You absolute fucking fool.

Dave takes his rightful seat behind the wheel and waits for Karkat to begrudgingly join him.

"Before we go, I have two rules," Dave mentions casually when the other puts on his seatbelt.

"Tell them both to go fuck themse—"

"Rule number one. You gotta try to catch some Z's man. It's fucking freaky when you're all quiet and despondent. Nobody's gonna sit with Mr. Doom and Gloom at the bonfire."

Karkat doesn't have a rebuttal, which only proves Dave's point. "Jesus, at least pretend to be offended that I dare have the audacity to claim that you aren't going to be the life of the party."

"I'm fucking not, why would I pretend I am? I'll be lucky if my friends remember that I'm there."

Oh. The ache is back. Karkat's wobbling voice certainly doesn't help. Dave places a hand on Karkat's shoulder and squeezes, hoping to get his attention. He's stubbornly turned away from Dave, looking out the window.

"They don't actually care if I'm there. I slept in and no one thought to come to check on me. Or to drag me out of my respiteblock! They all readjusted so fast. I think they were hoping I'd turn back. I probably should have—"

"Hey. They love you. I don't know where this shit is coming from but all your friends ever do is talk about you. Like. Fondly. Fuck, even my friends got the Vantas infection. I can't go two minutes without someone bringing up how something I said reminded them of you."

More silence. Well, and a sniffle.

"Damnit, Karkat." Dave reaches over and cups the other's cheeks, forcing him to turn and meet his gaze. "Your sleep-deprived pan is playing some cruel tricks on you. Trust me, I'm the king of having Mean Brain Syndrome and silent breakdowns."

"Really?" He sounds so small. He looks small. Wide, watery eyes, flushed cheeks and messy locks of jet-black hair accentuating his youthful features. "I can't imagine you of all people..." he trails off, piercing gaze seemingly looking through Dave's shades and straight into his soul.

Dave releases Karkat's cheeks a little too fast, but the other doesn't notice as he sniffles and wipes his nose with his sleeve.

"Yeah, dude. Of course. It's not all smooth raps and sick beats up in here." Karkat scoffs. Dave gently punches his arm. "I'm just saying, man. None of us got our shit together. We all have stuff going on and sometimes we get so tunnel-visioned we don't see the people around us."

Karkat sniffles again.

"Terezi went with Vriska."

"Ugh. That explains it."

"And Sollux somehow decided the fun van with Fef, Aradia and Eridan was the play."

Karkat laughs. It seems that understanding dawns on him as he nods at Dave. He punches him in the arm as well, none too gently mind you, the prick, but he's smiling again, which is good. Fucking day saved by the Dave-meister, master of unflipping shit and returning life to the way it was supposed to be: with an angry little troll and his volume control issues.

"So yeah, time to abide by rule number one."

"Fine, but—" Karkat pulls Dave into a hug that neither expect judging by how stiff Karkat is at first, which is hilariously ironic. Karkat was a hugger. Dave, not so much. Karkat hugging Dave was fucking absurd, but hey. Maybe they could blame this weird turn of events on the gasoline fumes they've been inhaling for the past half hour.

Dave melts into the embrace. He gets why everyone tackles Karkat for these. He's warm and sorta just... slots perfectly into your arms.

"Thanks, Dave," he says quietly enough that Dave almost misses it. "Seriously."

"No probs, dude. I know we aren't that close but fuck me if we can't trauma bond through the bullshit that is undergrad."

Karkat huffs a small laugh. Dave pats his back. They're about to pull away when Karkat quickly adds, "You're really nice."

"Yeah, the nicest. So about that going to sleep so that I don't have to hear you talk rule, hm?"

"No," Karkat says, jostling Dave for emphasis. He then squeezes him tightly. "You can't dry-humor your way out of this sincere one-to-one with me, Strider. You're kind-hearted and I need to make sure you know that."

Now that's funny. Dave is a lot of things. He's lucky most do think of him as cool. His closest friends call him a dork, but hey, that's fine too. But kind-hearted? His Bro would have laughed in his face if he heard that. He'd then proceed to beat the shit out of him for making him hear something so fucking atrocious. Dave pulls away from the hug with a crooked grin. He has nothing to say to something so absurd. Instead, he turns his attention to twisting the key in the ignition and pressing his foot down on the brake as he puts the car in reverse.

Kind-hearted.

Yeah, okay dude. Sure. Fuck. His chest tightens. He hopes the other doesn't notice the little spiral he's having. He focuses on his breathing, and on his exhale; he's good. All he needed was to breathe out and he was back to normal. Easy peasy.

"Ready to go?"

"Yeah, fuck. I'm going to try to sleep. Wake me up when we get there. Or if I talk in my sleep."

"No way dude, that sounds like some prime fucking entertainment."

Dave checks behind him to make sure no one is walking by. He slowly releases the brake just as Karkat asks "What was the second rule?"

"Oh yeah. We need some tunes," Dave says as he presses what he thinks is the radio button. Music plays, but turns out it's from whatever playlist Karkat had been listening to on his way here.

Dave slams on the brake.

"Dave, what the fuck! O—oh. Um."

It's from Dave's mixtape. He has a collection of his music that he sometimes drops in the big group chat. He never expects anyone to listen to it more than once, let alone at all. Some of their mutual friends were so polite with their responses. "It's so good, Dave!" was always appreciated. He knows how hard it was to get someone to listen to a song recommendation, let alone a song you put out, period, so he takes those kind comments with the utmost grace.

But knowing someone liked his music enough to listen to it again, on repeat, on a long drive out of town. To have his music chosen as the dedicated theme song to a long road trip, something people tend to argue over, debating over which songs should be played, something that he personally takes pretty fucking seriously, breaks something in him. The ache he thought he felt for Karkat comes back tenfold. He realizes it's a pain he's only ever harbored for himself, but kept deep within the pits of his chest, that comes bursting out of him.

"What the fuck?" Dave laughs. His voice cracks as he says it. His eyes sting, for some reason. Why was this like a punch in the gut to him? He should be flattered, and he is, but this turn of events is so unexpected he can only feel emotional.

"What? It's good! Fucking sue me for unironically liking something my friend made."

Dave laughs again. Fuck! He wipes his tears with his sleeve, bumping his shades out of the way as he does. Friend? He's only ever been flippant to Karkat's entire existence! He's only ever complained about his raucous laughter and teased him about his sleep-deprived fits. He's only ever poked fun at his abhorrent tastes in movies and dismissed his multiple attempts at pulling some form of sincerity out of Dave. Kind-hearted? Dave was the opposite. Those words should be used to describe Karkat, if anything.

"Uh oh. I broke you too. Great! I knew I was cursed."

Dave laughs again, teetering on the edge of hysteria as his song's beat changes, transitioning to an uptick of those snares he loves so much.

"Fuck. No, I'm good. I'm fine," Dave says as he wipes the last of his tears. "You have awful taste, dude. In movies and music and friends."

"Fuck you. Everything you just listed is something I can confidently say I have superior taste in. Your primitive human puzzle sponge couldn't absorb a fine understanding of the arts and friendship the way I do even if you lobotomized yourself trying!"

"Lobotomizing myself sounds like the exact thing I'd need to do to get to your level."

They banter some more. It seems Karkat is choosing to help Dave get over his brief emotional meltdown by acting like he never noticed it to begin with. Their teasing arguments eventually transition to pleasant conversation, then nothing at all. Karkat falls asleep, head resting against the window, his hood tucked between his ear and the hard surface acting as a cushion. Dave can admit, in the deepest recesses of his mind, that Karkat looks cute like this.

He also thinks he's safe from those thoughts and whatever the fuck is going on in his stomach (sword-fighting moths, he concludes) when they make it to the cottage. He parks the car next to John's and looks out at the lake. A few of their friends were on the deck, already unpacked and settled in. Dave turns to Karkat's sleeping figure and gently shakes his shoulder. The other only groans in response, which, fuck. Okay. He's cute is a thought that apparently refuses to go back into those mind recesses they came from. They've had enough of running around on the field and going down the stainless steel slides that burn your skin in the unbearable Texas heat. Those intrusive Karkat is cute thoughts want to stay at the forefront of his brain, ever the studious student working toward a 4.0 GPA.

Dave looks at Karkat, and again at their friends, who haven't noticed their arrival.

"Hey," he says quietly. He shakes him again, but Karkat is stubbornly refusing to open his eyes. Fine by him. Dave unbuckles his seatbelt and leans over. "Hey, Karkat," he repeats. No response. Dave squeezes his shoulder and experiences the most pathetic attempt at someone wriggling away from his grasp ever. A fucking toddler could fight him off better.

Karkat frowns as he's gently jostled from his slumber. His pouting lips are a little dry from the air conditioning, but his cheeks are plump and rosy from his hour-long slumber. Dave finds he can't stop himself from trying to find out what it feels like. He uses the back of his index finger to caress the skin and confirms with some degree of glee that it's exactly what he thought it'd be. Smooth and warm and inviting. Without a second thought, he leans over and presses his lips to Karkat's cheek.

Eyes fly open. Long lashes flutter and incoherent sounds of confusion escape dry lips, but Dave isn't processing any of it. He couldn't if he tried. His heart is hammering so loudly in his chest that it feels like his brain produced white noise just to protect his eardrums from it. He's out of the car in an instant, telling Karkat that they made it and he'd see him around before shutting the door behind him and rushing inside to meet with his friends.

Fuck, fuck, fuuuuuck.

"Hey! You made it in one piece!" John laughs.

Dave jumps and whips around to the voice.

"Yeah, more or less," Dave nods, trying his damnest to seem nonchalant. His friends are in the kitchen, distracted with lunch preparations. He hovers for a bit, catching them up to speed on the ride: totally boring and uneventful, by the way, (I didn't just kiss Karkat and run away), and tries to offer his assistance wherever possible. He's only met with polite rejection and a mean smack to the back of his hand for trying to snack on some of the appetizers. Eventually, he is dismissed to collect his belongings from the living room since the couches are claimed by two. He's instructed to put his overnight bag in the one bedroom they have left, a single Twin XL bed.

"Hey, sorry I tried to save you a spot with us but everyone sort of first come first served the place," John says with an apologetic shrug. "You and Karkat are gonna have to share."

Fuck.

#accidental fanfic #homestuck #davekat #dave strider #karkat vantas #ask bug #hsfanfic #3.4k words and for what? ill upload this on ao3 eventually #long post

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slutforsilverfoxes · 2 years

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If you can, can you do one where Gibbs has interest in the new girl that has join NCIS team. Please 🥹 love you.

Thank you for being my very first request 🥹 I hope you like it!!

___

Something was very wrong with Leroy Jethro Gibbs.

He was smiling, and not in that “you’re a dumbass and I’m gonna smack you” kind of way, he was genuinely smiling.

“Who are you and what have you done with our boss?” Tony asked skeptically, squinting as he scrutinized Gibbs’ face.

The silver-haired man’s visage fell into a familiar scowl as he placed his large palm against Tony’s forehead and shoved him backwards. He growled out “Get to work, DiNozzo,” before taking a seat at his desk, placing his reading glasses on the bridge of his nose and opening up a recent case file.

Tony did not, in fact, get to work, instead strutting over to McGee’s desk to solve the mystery of their fearless leader’s unusually good mood. “What do you think it is?” he whispered, leaning his elbows against Tim’s desk. “Do you think someone he hates died?”

McGee furrowed his eyebrows together as he watched Gibbs’ face break into a smile for the second time in five minutes- that had to be some sort of record. “I don’t think it’s a ‘what’, Tony,” he inclined his chin towards their boss’s desk where he was listening to you animatedly describe the latest book you were reading, “I think it’s a ‘who’ and I think it’s our new Probie.”

“Hey!” Gibbs barked out, and the two agents senior to you grinned sheepishly. “You two gonna do your jobs today or are you gonna stand around gossiping like school girls?”

“Gossip,” Tony answered cheekily as McGee simultaneously rushed out, “Work, Boss.”

Gibbs shook his head at his two subordinates before returning his gaze to you. “How come you’re so nice to me, hm?” you asked innocently as you sipped your coffee. “No hazing period with you? There’s certainly been one with those two,” you nodded toward your teammates.

“Because you’re not a pain in my ass like those two were as Probies,” he answered simply with a shrug. Because you’re intelligent and charismatic and witty and beautiful and I’d do anything to keep that smile on your face all the time.

“Oh, so you only like me because I’m useful to you,” you teased.

“Precisely,” he shot you a wolfish grin, and you rolled your eyes playfully in response. Suddenly his tone grew serious, and he instructed “Don’t do that, Y/L/N.”

Your eyes widened almost comically and you bit your lip, sufficiently chastened. “Sorry, sir.”

Jesus, he thought, don’t do that either.

“Here,” he handed you a case file, needing to get you out of his space before he said something stupid. “Run through the evidence in here and get me a profile on this dirtbag by the end of the day.”

“You’ve got it,” you smiled easily, hand brushing against his as you took the thick folder from him. His heart rate shot up embarrassingly fast and he prayed you couldn’t hear it thumping against his chest. You’d been here a mere two weeks and somehow managed to reduce the fifty-something year old tough-as-nails Marine to a schoolboy with a raging crush on his new agent.

Tony slid a note across your desk as he passed by to get some coffee from the kitchenette. Ten bucks and a round of beers says he asks you out by the end of the week.

You whipped out a pen from the top drawer of your desk, a wide grin spreading across your face as you scribbled back a response before returning the note to Tony’s desk. Game on.

#jethro gibbs #jethro gibbs x reader #ncis imagine #ncis #reader request #jethro gibbs x y/n #leroy jethro gibbs #leroy jethro gibbs imagine #jethro gibbs imagine #leroy jethro gibbs x y/n #leroy jethro gibbs x reader

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yaboirezzy · 1 year

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My to-write list if I can finally break free from work:

'Our Weird Little Family' - continuing my Amphibia x TOH x TGAMM crossover fic because of course I have to eventually

#imma have some dust to clean up soon #amphibia #the owl house #the ghost and molly mcgee #fanfic #fanfic from a dumbass who couldn't continue it #au #siblings au #anne boonchuy #luz noceda #molly mcgee

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sunnysunnatko · 3 months

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This dumbass better stop bluffin' i see that burger behind you fancy pants mcgee assh✿le.

Mf thinks hes so advanced providing himself with a bought burger oh my god.

We know you cant spread jam on your f ing toast loser

#ok but felix youre getting on my last nerve #kindergarten 2 #kindergarten game #kindergarten #kindergarten felix #felix huxley #felix #huxley #this is a joke btw love my skrunkly baby

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knightotoc · 1 month

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Best stories about cold people, in chronological order: *

Frankenstein (1818)

The Snow Queen (1844)

To Build a Fire (1902) **

The Cremation of Sam McGee (1907)

The Gold Rush (1925)

The Snow Queen (1957)

Dr. Zhivago (1965)

The Left Hand of Darkness (1969)

The Shining (1980)

The Thing (1982)

Wintersmith (2006)

Frozen (not that one) (2010)

The Terror, season 1 (2018)

* according to my dumbass who's never read any Russian novels

** best one

#frankenstein #the snow queen #to build a fire #the cremation of sam mcgee #the gold rush 1925 #dr zhivago #the left hand of darkness #the thing #wintersmith #frozen 2010 #the terror #the shining

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left4deadstuck · 2 years

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where are all the bodacious, bitten babes? where the zombies at?

D: hate to break it to you dude but

D: youre not going to like what you find out there

D: unless like

D: youre into being mauled or gutted or just in general left a mangled pile of broken bones

D: i mean theres different levels of masochism out there

He goes quiet, focusing away from the screen while he mutters out his current train of thought.

D: god now i wanna know if some dumbass actually tried to get freaky with the more scarier ones

D: 100% betting my goddamn soul someone has a story by now about how some clown saw one of the tongue guys or sobs mcgee and decided yeah

D: im down to tango with that

D: and then immediately get their ass handed to them and then some

D: poor son of bitch probably has one of those wall memorials too

D: in memory of keith

D: stupid asshole tried his luck on one of those acid spitters and died from his dick melting off

D: rest in peace king may no one else has to personally experience what its like to stick their hotdog in piranha fluid

D: amen

HAL: Bro.

D: huh oh right

D: look i aint aint any of yalls dad but yeah in my professional opinion when it comes to avoiding getting curb stomped by a group of zombies

D: best not to romance the undead

#homestuck #l4dstuck au #dave strider #My hand is dying rip this weekend will just be my break -mm

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quanticowrites · 1 year

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Catch me (Alden Parker x Reader)

•• An Anon way back in July requested a fic where Alden helps the reader through a panic attack. It's kinda short but I hope you all enjoy! ••

“ALDEN!” You found yourself screaming as the suspect pushed you off the roof of the building. Pure instinct kicked in as you somehow grabbed the edge of the parapet. You wouldn't be able to hold on for long. Your whole body slammed against the side of the building, the muscles in your shoulders tight. You couldn't see where the suspect had gone but you assumed he ran back down into the building. With any luck Alden would catch him. You, on the other hand, might not make it. It was a straight shot to the sidewalk below. Hitting the concrete wouldn't exactly be painless. “ALDEN!” You screamed out again as you tried to adjust your grip as you felt your fingers slipping. “ALDEN! I’M SLIPPING!” Your heartbeat pounded in your ears. Were you yelling loud enough? Could anyone hear you? You watched your own hand helplessly. You were hyperventilating by the time you saw your fingers release. You fell.

“NOT ON MY WATCH YOU DON’T!” The tears falling your face blurred your vision as Alden gripped you tight with both hands. He pulled you up until he could wrap his arms around your body and heaved you back over the side onto the rooftop. “(Y/n), are you okay?” You wanted to answer him, but no matter how deep of a breath you took you couldn’t fill your lungs let alone talk. He stared helplessly down at you until something clicked in his head. “Are you having a panic attack?” You nodded. “Alright, baby try to follow my breaths, alright?” You nodded again. He breathed in, you breathed in. He breathed out, you breathed out. You never took your eyes off him as he worked you through it. You were still taking sharp breaths, but you found yourself able to speak, although rather shakily.

“T-Thank you, A-Alden.”

“Sssh.” He put a finger to your lips as he helped adjust you to sit in his lap. “Don’t try and talk right now. Try and get your strength back so we can get off the roof. Looks like there’s some rain heading this way.” You chuckled before leaning into him. You put your head over his heart and listened to it beat deep inside his chest. After another minute your breathing was back to normal, and you sat up and got up onto your knees and stood back up. Alden never left your side as you descended the stairs. He almost caused you to trip a couple of times.

“Alden-“

“I know, I know, sorry.” The rest of the team was waiting in the doorway. Normally this building would be bustling with tourists, but the hotel was under some extensive renovations. That’s why the suspect had thought it would be the perfect place to hide. It was, until you all showed up. It was also your stupid ass that went up to the roof alone. Alden wasn’t mentioning it now, but you were sure you’d get a scolding later.

“What happened to the suspect?�� You asked. McGee pointed to one of the cars outside.

“He’s in the backseat of the car. Don’t look at him, though.” You blinked.

“Why?”

“Parker smashed his nose in.” You turned to Alden with a slap to his chest. His face pinker than a rose.

“Alden! You dumbass! That could cost you your job!”

“I needed to know what he did to you. The bastard was laughing as he was running down the stairs. Said he was waiting to hear your scream as you hit the pavement.” You huffed and he nudged your shoulder. “I care more about you than I do my job.” You smiled.

“Good.”

“Alright, now that this case is settled let’s process Mr. Smith here and call it a day.” Alden put his arms around you and leaned into your back. “What do you say we bring out that bottle of wine we’ve been saving when we get home?” He whispered into your ear. You had to stop yourself from physically melting. Alden knew just how to get you going.

Tag list:

@stanathanxoox , @nikkiwierden , @malindacath , @havlindzk , @countrygal17a , @memyselfandmaddox , @octobersmog , @mizzezm , @diaryofafan17 , @emmitheacefangirl , @a-sad-excuse-of-everything , @marennnx

#ncis x reader #alden parker #alden parker x reader #ncis reader insert #Alden Parker reader insert

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