#a bridge would be that but i don't have any rivers anywhere near home

[maybelia]

The drama of throwing yourself in front of a car or slitting your wrists in a bathtub

Vs genuinely wanting to traumatize the smallest number of people

[thepopatochispfren]

lol but it's not tru. Anyways, how would ut sans and uf papyrus react to cheating on their s/o, and they don't find out, instead acting sweeter and more adorable then normal until they can't take it anymore and tell them. When they do s/o freezes before just giving them a sad smile. "Well, can't blame u. Honestly lasted longer than I expected, I mean, who would ever want me?" They don't even seem fazed by their own words, being too used to thinking that way. Thank fren!

angst! anyways you r great, and don’t forget that fren.

ut snas:

you and sans had gotten into a small argument before he went to grillby’s. though it was short, the argument had gotten pretty intense, involving some hurtful but non-intending words that were said in the heat of the moment. and you just had to mention the resets. the moment you finished your sentence, sans expression immediately changed and darkened. he didn’t say anything back, and just teleported away. you knew where he was going to, but still full of anger from the argument you decided you couldn’t face him right now. so you just went to bed. but as you were sleeping, a certain skeleton decided to drown his pain in spiked ketchup and through his drunkenness decided to hook up with a female bunny monster. having the mindset, “i just don’t want to feel pain anymore tonight”. but when it turned day, he immediately regretted it. the next time you see him, he comes home around 2;00ish with a takeout order of grillby’s that has your name on it. the instant he sees you, he rushes to hug you and apologize. after the apologies and burgers, you both make up and become more at ease with each other. but yet, something doesn’t feel just right. one night as the two of you were watching late night cop shows, he gets a call from a number you don’t recognize. at first you shrug it off thinking it might just be another friend of his, but the way and tone he was speaking to this person made you feel unsettled. even the way sans’ expression as he talked to this person showed that he himself seamt nervous and off. when you tried to ask him about the call and person, he simply just put it off saying it was a friend and said a pun. yet you know something was wrong, because he failed to say it correctly the first time, and he always says it correctly the first time. but yet, you choose to trust his judgement and not mention it anymore. -a week later- sans had been disappearing a lot lately. but whenever he was home he’d bring back little gifts and trinkets for you which you had thought was awfully adorable of him to do, yet you were worried of why he been going away a lot for the past week. tonight was the night you decided to confront him about it. usually he’d come around 11:00 pm, you knew this by the sound of the door being opened downstairs, and the tired legs of your bonefriend slowly climbing up the stairs and collapsing next to you in bed. but tonight you waited in the kitchen, sitting at the dining table with the lights on. he finally came home around 12:00ish, and you saw his surprised expression react to the sour look on your face. you demanded why he came back home at such a late hour and what he has been doing for the past week. shouting at him saying that you’ve been worried why he was been coming home so late always seeming exhausted from wherever he’s been. it all crashes, and the facade sans had put up had been torn down. he starts telling you of what had happened after the argument last week and how he had cheated on you after getting drunk. he looked almost as hurt as you did, well almost. the moment he said those words you felt like a knife had pierced through your heart, everything you knew and loved about him was breaking and falling apart. you struggled, but managed to get out these words. “well, i can’t blame you. Honestly this lasted longer than I expected, I mean, who would ever want me?” you said, giving a sad smile. before he could say anything back, you run out the door tears filling up your eyes. you hesitate for a moment wondering where to go, everything was falling apart. your boyfriend had cheated on you, all that trust, care, love that you had in him was breaking. then you remembered the bridge that was near your house. sans goes running after you searching everywhere desperately calling out your name just with little hope of you actually answering. he does find you eventually, because he noticed your body floating in the river.

edge:

you always disagreed with him on everything, it was surprising how you two were even a couple. but with every argument that came, the apologies and huggles came also. yet, tonight was different. usually edge argued about the silliest of things, but tonight he actually had a reason. you and his brother were actually pretty close. playing pranks on each other, and laughing at each others dirty jokes, so no wonder he assumed that you were intentionally getting on with his brother. his accusation included the phrase, “YOU REALLY ONLY BECAME MATES WITH ME SO YOU COULD JUST GET CLOSER WITH MY BROTHER!? YOU DIRTY SCOUNDREL!”. of course you really cared and loved edge, but sometimes he did get on your nerves. though it may have a little, well a lot looked like you and red (uf sans) were flirting, it was just something that you guys did, like an inside joke. you were about to calmly dismiss the entire thing as a misunderstanding, but when he called you a wh***, it was on, you both became verbally violent, and began openly swearing at each other with everything you had, screaming any swear words that you could think up at the other. this was one argument you had to win. this lasted for over 3 hours, and eventually both of you got tired and realized that none of you would be victorious from this. so you both “ended” it with dirty glares at each other. you went up to your room to scream into a pillow, while edge went out on a walk to fume out his thoughts. an edge alone with angry thoughts is never a good thing, and when he came up with the idea to come back at you it would be the worst thing to ever happen. he had decided to fight “fire with fire” or at least do what he thought you were doing to his brother, “intoxicating” him with your words and “body language”. and being as competitive as he is, he had to win this. though no one is ever worthy or capable of the great and terrible papyrus, he stormed into a bar and flirted with any female creature he saw. edge, being as intimidating as he is, pretty much terrified every single lady he talked to. well, except one. this woman was brave enough to stand by him, and flirt back. surprised by this lady, edge paused for a moment, but realizing his “brilliant” plan was working he continued. it got very, intimate. before he realized it, he woke up in a bed with a lady stranger he had hardly recognized. only then edge knew that he had made a mistake. you see him walk up to you with a bouquet of roses, and a little letter that says “i’m sorry”. wanting to see how far this would go you ask him why he was back. but he surprised you when you heard him apologize. you had heard the great and terrible papyrus say sorry and ask for forgiveness. something was definitely up, but looking up at him he seamt really, genuine. you softly accept his apology and take the bouquet of flowers with the little note on it. you want to read the letter, but you decide that right now was a time to comfort the tall, edgy skeleton. you put the bouquet on the kitchen table and lead him upstairs. he first objects and says you should read the note first, but you gently tell him that you both needed just to rest right now. you both change into your pajamas and get into the bed. and huggled until you both had fallen asleep. when you wake up you see him next to you fast asleep. he seems so calm and nice when he’s sleeping, you thought. wanting to get up and maybe make breakfast, you get off the bed, tuck edge with the blanket, and go downstairs. then you notice the dying bouquet of flowers on the dining table, and remembered that you still haven’t read the letter. quickly grabbing the letter you tear it open, to find it scrawled with messy handwriting. you know that edge’s handwriting is not messy at all, but rather really neat. yet this handwriting barely resembles his. it appears that his hand might’ve been shaking a lot when writing this, for the lettering is very jagged and not smooth. but when you finally decipher what the note says, it made sense now. edge never apologized for anything, and always tried to make it your fault or someone else’s when he was in a situation. when you read the letter, it made sense. he cheated on you. tears began to form in your eyes after acknowledging this. he had cheated on you, that’s why he got you the flowers, that’s why he wrote you the letter, that’s why he said he was sorry. yet none of that mattered. just those simple four words, he cheated on you. you began to shake, it wasn’t ok for you to be here right now. edge was here, the monster who cheated on you. still a part of you knew that this would happen. sure he had his shortcomings, but yet you knew that he had loved you. one of the only people you had trusted, you had loved, that you had let into your life, into your heart, had cheated on you. he did love you… right? who would ever love something as worthless as you. that, that’s right. you didn’t even notice when edge had come downstairs. you just heard the voices in your head. when he tapped your shoulder, you finally snapped out of it. you looked around to see him. you managed to say, ““Well, can’t blame you. Honestly lasted longer than I expected, I mean, who would ever want me?” before you voice gave out. still shaking, you make a run for the door, not stopping when you heard his voice  hopelessly call out your name. you couldn’t stop, you had to go somewhere, anywhere but here. but where would you g-. lights, a car honk, then darkness.

yay, i finished my first imagine! sorrynotsorry for the angst. but i am sorry for it being so long.

[tisfan]

So, I don't normally ask for prompt fills, but I've had a really rough night tonight. On my way home after a very long day, I ended up in a gridlock on the highway due to a fatal accident, and a 30 minute drive took me about 2 hours. So prompt: any pairing - there's a fatal accident, and the news reports that one of the Avengers was involved. Their friend/lover can't get hold of them and freaks out. The Avenger is okay, but their phone died (or was lost). There's yelling, then making up

That’s My Jam

There were plenty of things Clint loved about being an Avenger.

And he had plenty of time to think about them, because thisfucking traffic wasn’t going anywhere.

He started listing them in his head. In detail. And then, for thehell of it, in alphabetical order, just because Tony wouldn’t think that Clintcould manage that much detail. Suck it, Stark.

Being an Avenger was great.

Well, the hours kinda blew. And there was some sort of fucked upside of the universe that seemed to think that Clint shouldn’t be able to takea day off, because whenever he did, something always, always happened.

And then there was all the time spent in medical (and the timeavoiding the time spent in medical, because Clint.) Honestly, Clint spent moretime with bandaids holding his various bits together than he ever had before inhis life. And he was a certified adrenaline junkie with a history of epicallypoor decision making skills.

Okay, so maybe being an Avenger was less than great.

But it had some nice side bennies.

Like the fact that Clint would never, ever have met his gorgeous,smart-ass, self-satisfied, asshole boyfriend, if it wasn’t for the Avengers.Speaking of which, Clint would love for his gorgeous, smart-ass, self-satisfiedasshole boyfriend to come SCOOP HIM UP OUT OF TRAFFIC with his goddamn wingsbecause Clint had the car in damn Park and had for almost forty minutes now,and he was going to run out of gas if this kept up.

He pulled out his cellphone and punched the entry for BirdBrain2(Bird Brain was his nickname, and Tony had given it to him special, and justbecause Bucky had started calling Sam Bird Brain instead didn’t meananything, right? Right.)

Also, since he was bored and traffic wasn’t going anywhere anyway,Clint clicked the phone over to his Avenger’s comm unit and climbed out of thecar. He might get a better idea what was going on from the roof, right.

“Hey babe,” Sam said as he picked up the phone. “Where are you?”

“Traffic blows hoary goats,” Clint said by way of answer. Hecouldn’t see anything standing on the roof of his car. A few other driversblared their horns, like they thought Clint standing there meant they’d bestuck longer. Clint flipped them off absently. He gauged the distance betweenthe roof of his car and the semi in front of him. Ah, hell with it. “Rancid,hoary goats with huge balls and--”

He hopped down, grabbed his bow out of the back seat.

“Now there is an image that I didn’t ask to see,” Sam said. “Youknow that sex you wanted to have, ever again? Shut up now.”

There’s more below the cut. Or read on A03

“Okay,” Clint agreed. He eyed the bridge supports, turned andfired a zipline. He inhaled at just the right time so that the jerk and tugdidn’t make him cough and splutter and sound like an idiot. He pulled histac-goggles out of his quiver and slid them over his eyes. “Remind me to makeTony a pie.”

“You? Want to bake something. For Tony?” Sam mocked. “Need Iremind you of what happened the last time you tried to make cookies. And thatwas from one of those pathetic break and bake packs.”

Clint found it completely adorable (and a little sappy, pathetic,and heartbreaking) that he knew his boyfriend was grinning just from the soundof his voice. Take that, doctors who said losing his hearing was going to havea profoundly negative effect on his life. Of course, Tony had also donesomething about that, with an inner-cochlear implant. No more losing hishearing aids. No more wall of sound coming at him that he couldn’t sort.

“Okay, well, buy him a pie.” He squinted down the bridge. Asemi-trailer had shoved through the guard rails on the side. The loaded rig wason its side, the cab part of it hanging off the side of the bridge, attached byonly the fifth wheel coupling and a hell of a lot of prayers.

The driver was trapped inside and rescue personnel were trying tofigure out how to get the semi-conscious man out of the truck without sendingthe entire mess into the water.

Clint narrowed his gaze to the fifth wheel coupling and thetac-glasses shot up a ton of data onto the headsup. Including the fact that thekingpin wouldn’t hold for much longer under the strain, which would send the truckpart into the river below.

Blink. Click. Thirty meters below, which for a normal, unenhancedhuman, would be like falling on concrete. Combined with being trapped insidethe cab, which was not what one would call waterproof. Already injured.

Standard rescue wasn’t going to get there in time.

“Gotta go, babe,” Clint said. “Something in traffic needsAvenging.”

“Clint, don’t do anything stupid--”

“Aw, phone, no.” Clint said. “Can’t hear you, you’re breaking up,I’m going through a tunnel.”

“No, you are not, Clint! Clint!”

Clint hung up. He eyed the bridge again. Tapped his wrist guardand lined up an explosive, a zip line, and a net arrow. Nock, pull, release.Nock, pull, release. Nock, pull, release.

It was go time.

Sam was staring at his phone like it was personally responsiblefor betraying him. Goddammit, Clint. It was a thing. He probably saidit, or thought it, or thought about thinking it some fifty times a day, fromeverything as small as Clint forgot that toilet paper was a thing to Clintattacked fifty DoomBots with a bow and a killer smile.

If Clint was about to start a fist fight in the middle of traffic,that was bad, but only small bad. Lowercase bad. Aside from the whole he was anAvenger, and trained in lethal combat, and generally beating the shit out of acivvie, no matter how deserving, was going to be bad PR and then Pepper wouldbe all over everyone’s ass with her ridiculous stilettos and Clint wouldprobably have to do some charity events to get back into people’s good graces,and that meant Sam was going to have to do some charity events with hisboyfriend, because… because Pepper. Which was kinda okay, because Sam’s boylooked good in a suit, and watching Clint try to behave like an actualfunctioning adult was hilarious.

Especially around buffet food.

Except Clint hadn’t sounded angry and getting ready to go off half(or fully) cocked.

“JARVIS, can you bring up traffic cams near Barton’s location?”

“I can do better than that, Mr. Wilson,” the computer AI said,smoothly. “There are news cameras on site. Shall I bring up CNN or MSNBC?”

“Gimme both, why not. What the hell is he up to?”

News cameras for traffic wasn’t normal. Which meant somethingexciting was going on.

“... video from the scene shows a large section of damagedguardrail,” the reporter was saying, slightly breathless as she clung to theinside of a news chopper. The camera flicked over to her, hand on the clutchbar, microphone covering her mouth as she talked. Then back to the bridge wherea tractor-trailer was dangling off the side, driver held in by the seatbelt,but limp and unmoving.

“Level 2 wind restrictions were in place at the time of the incident,but there’s no word as to whether or not the driver was in violation.Forty-seven mile an hour winds have been causing no end of trouble tolarge-load drivers, but --”

The picture flicked again; someone on scene was interviewinganother rig-driver. “On a windy day, you can feel it, and you’ll be pushingyour trailer and your tractor to the left or the right, whichever way the windis blowing. You can actually feel it; it’s a hurting feeling and you know ofcourse I said a prayer for him…” The underpicture scrawl identified the driveras Charles Lattimore, long-time independent truck driver.

“... water temperature here is forty-five degrees,” the newswomanreported. “If rescue personnel cannot get the driver to safety, there’s littlehope that he can survive the fall. Hypothermia is a very real danger insituations like these.”

Sam squinted at the screen. Not at the rig, but above, on thebridge guidewires. A shifting movement caught his eye. He tapped the holo, atthe spot. “Can you clear this up any? Enhance?”

Yep. There was Sam’s idiot boyfriend, playing Spider-man.

The fucking news camera wouldn’t stay focused where Sam wantedthem to look. Did they not see that there was another player on the scene?

He caught a brief glimpse of Clint drawing back his bow, and thenthe truck was going over the side.

“Wings, JARVIS, now,” Sam snapped. Straight as the Falcon flew,the bridge was less than three minutes from the Tower. Sam wasn’t the onlyAvenger with a launch-pad outside the bedroom. JARVIS pulled open the lift andSam grabbed his pack, buckling himself into it without stopping his forwardmotion toward the pad. The door slid open without even having to ask, and Samwas airborne the instant his toes were clear, diving even as the wingsactivated.

Don’t let me be too late, again, Samthought. Prayed. Would have stopped to sacrifice a goat, if he could have. Samwas on first name basis with an actual god, surely that had to have some pull,right?

Half the truck was still on the bridge by the time Sam got there,but it wasn’t the half that was important. The cab, presumably the driver, and…where the fuck was Clint.

“Hawkeye, report!” Sam activated the voice-amplifier.

Nothing.

“Come on, babe, where are you?” Sam zipped over where the rescuedivers were already in place. He landed on the deck, listened to his wings foldup and the crew there were staring at him. “Did they go under?”

“We’ve got divers in the water,” one stunned crew woman answered.

“Get the hell off my deck,” the captain was bellowing. “I don’tcare if you’re an angel, an Avenger, or God Himself, you --”

Sam was gone already. His wings were not made for submersiblecombat, and even if they were, he didn’t have a rebreather. He wasn’t Iron Manin an airtight, space-worthy armor. He wasn’t Steve, who jumped out of planeswithout parachutes and could bench press submarines. He was just a guy with aunique skill set, who’d happened to make friends with exactly the wrong personat exactly the right time.

He and Clint had bonded a bit, over their normal-guy-ness.

Where the fuck was Clint?

“Oh, no, you are not goan be a normal guy and die on me now,Hawkeye,” Sam said.

“Ohhhh, Sammie,” a grouchy, rusty voice said. “You say thesweetest things.”

“Clint?” Sam pushed his comm unit harder into his ear as if thatwas going to matter at all. “Where the fuck are you?”

“I see you down there, hoverin’ around like you’re actuallyworried about me,” Clint teased.

“Clint. Where.”

“Look up, angel,” Clint said. Sam tipped his head.

Just under the bridge, suspended like they were Luke and Han inthat stupid Ewok trap, was Clint and what was presumably the truck driver.

“This? This was your plan? Get strung up like a Christmasturkey?” Sam snapped. Still, he flew up and landed on one of the bridgesupports. Getting Clint down from there was going to take a little more liftthan Sam had. Under extreme duress, Sam could carry Captain America, but Clintand an unconscious, injured truck driver was probably more strain than hiswings could handle.

“Hey, I had to make it up on the fly,” Clint said.

“You don’t get to make that pun, that is my pun and you can’t haveit,” Sam snapped. Oh, god, his chest hurt. “Why the fuck didn’t you answer mesooner?”

A second voice answered, croaky and soft and full of pain. “Mightahit him in the head. Didn’ know he was tryin’ to help. Sorry.”

Sam’s eyebrows went up. “You got punched in the head by someonewhose life you were saving?”

“Aw, story, no,” Clint objected. “And he didn’t punch me, he clockedme with the damn steering wheel. I have a damn steering wheel shaped bruiseon my forehead! Now stop hoverin’ around like the world’s most uselesshummingbird and get us out of here.”

Sam tapped his wrist comm-unit and opened a line to Stark. “Hey,Ironman, I need someone to do some heavy lifting here. Clint’s eaten too manypizzas and I can’t seem to get him off the couch.”

“Asshole,” Clint muttered.

“And you love me,” Sam said, sing-song.

“Yeah, I guess I do.”

Driver Rescued when Tractor-Trailer goes over the side of Bridge

The tractor-trailer went into the water at the 1.5 mile marker onthe westbound side of the bridge. Driver Sal Bennet was rescued by Avenger’smember, Clinton Francis Barton, better known to the world at large as Hawkeye,who was caught up in the traffic delay caused by the incident.

Barton’s longtime partner, Samuel Wilson, was also on sight, afterseeing Hawkeye dive after the injured driver. Traffic is never fun, butsometimes, with Avengers around, it can be pretty exciting.

The entire team turned out to visit Bennet in his hospital roomand wish him a speedy recovery.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fifth-wheel_coupling -- in case you don’t know what that is. I worked in a truckrepair shop for a number of years, so I saw them a lot