#he so often wants to express that steve-o is the one who got steve-o sober

[misterknoxville]

Johnny Knoxville on Steve-O’s sobriety

[agoodsfpage]

“This is Morgan Winters, Barely Alive on GLNS News!” - Part 1

Hey!  Posted this here and on the forum. Those of you who know me there will know this will not be the first time I've posted the first part of a story, promised to deliver more, and then abandoned the project within, like, an hour, but trust me, guys... I'm going to finish this one this time. I can feel it in my bones.

Anyway, something about the concept of a news reporter catching a cold has been weighing on my brain for just the longest time so I bring you this first part, in which our news reporters does *not*, in fact, catch a cold yet.

There is a little bit of sneezing and illness stuff at the end, but this is mostly about setting the scene, establishing some characters. I feel like actually having some kind of plot is a nice minimal standard to achieve with storytelling, but this might be why I'm always too lazy to finish telling them. If I do fail to post the second part of this one, my next story will just be called 'woman with a cold who is sneezing' and will just be about someone, like, going to various places.

With that in mind, do feel free to remind me to pick this up if you actually really want to see where this story (kind of inevitably) ends up going.

And, excuse the poor formatting. It is not my strong suit.

"...and despite facing calls to resign, the counselor has confirmed he'll remain in his post. From GLNS, this is Morgan Winters, back to you Alex."

   Morgan yanked the earpiece out from her ear as quickly as she could, and ran a hand through her long black hair.

   "How was that?" she asked Derek, from behind the camera, who gave a simple thumbs up in response. "Good," she said. "Now get me out of here. It's fucking freezing, and these old government buildings never seem to have any heating" "We got a taxi waiting for you outside to get you back to the studio" he replied, as he rewound the footage. "Think we're going to end up back in the van, though, if you ask me. Molly just took a phone call from the boss. Suspect she's going to be looking for you any minute now"

   Morgan rolled her eyes and sighed. "Of course she is. What now? World's tallest scarecrow just collapsed? Local teen gets tongue frozen to lampost? Or are we going to interview the mayor's husband again, and hope he's sober enough to string together a full sentence this time?"

   Derek shrugged. "I don't commission 'em, Morgan, I just film 'em. You'll have to ask her." "I'll have to avoid her, more like. I'm going to the office. I have a mountain of work to catch up on. I don't have time to do some twee interview with Farmer Dan about Potatofest '22, or whatever they want from me." "You do what you want. Taxi's that way, though. Next to the van" Derek replied, smirking, pointing to the east side of the building, and not taking his eyes off of the footage.

   Morgan sighed and made her way to the city hall car park. She spied her taxi from across the road and started to walk towards it when she heard her name in an all-too-familiar and all-too-cheerful tone of voice.

   "Slow down, Morgan" Molly called out, from behind her. Morgan closed her eyes, silently cursed her luck, and turned around to face Molly, who was dressed in a garnet-red beret, that (in Morgan's humble and, admittedly, uninformed opinion) badly compliment her curly, silver-blonde hair.

   "I am so sorry, Molly, I almost forgot to wait for you," she said, forcing herself to smile. "That's alright, I'd just disappeared to make a quick phone call" Molly replied. "From the station," she said after a slightly uncomfortable pause. "Oh, they're always bothering us while we're busy. Well, I best be going, I need to get back to the--" "Could you do me a favor, Morgan?"

   Morgan gritted her teeth, her green eyes lightly glazing over as Molly carried on.

   "You see," Molly continued barely registering Morgan's expression, "the public health department just got in touch. It's that time of year when colds and such things are going around, you see. So, the department was wondering if we could send a reporter down to a local physician's to do a quick cold and flu safety report"

   Morgan shook her head. "No, Molly, no, absolutely not. I told you, I'm done with these... nothing reports. I'm a serious journalist, alright? I have a degree-- two degrees! Two degrees, I have a Bachelors in Communication, and a Masters in Media and Journalism, okay? I should be covering far more serious topics than this. Health- public health isn't even something I know anything about. Can't you ask Alice to do it?" "We did ask Alice to do it!" Molly replied. "And?" "She can't" "Why not?" "Caught a cold."

   Morgan rolled her eyes. "Well, what about Steve or Michael? They should be grateful for any work at this point, to be honest" "No, look, the department wants *you*. They've seen you! They think you have a really down-to-earth personality and a great presentation style. Perfect for delivering this kind of message."

   Morgan paused. "They asked for me?" "Yes" "...and they think I have a great presentation style?" "Absolutely" "And a down-to-earth personality?" "Yeah, maybe. Anyway, look, if you do this, there's sure to be some more work coming your way. Good work, too. Not these fluff pieces, not these interviews with outraged retirees. You get to do what you want." Morgan really thought about it. "...No more local food and culture festivals?" "No more anything, just pure you." "...Fine. Fuck you, but... fine." Morgan replied. "When do they want me?" Molly looked at her watch and looked back up at Morgan. "Half an hour ago."

--------

   It was not often that Morgan got to visit the more affluent side of town. She lived pretty far from here, and the people who did live here were wealthy enough to keep the cameras away from their neighborhood. While she wasn't thrilled about this assignment, she couldn't help but gawp at the mini-mansions, and luxury restaurants that lined the streets.

   Still, all the money and lawyers in the world couldn't keep out the common cold. Almost every face she could spot from the van, was adorned with a red nose, or a tissue pressed tightly against it. Morgan shifted uncomfortably in her seat, as she turned her head towards her phone. She was really starting to regret this.

   After a short drive, in which Molly had to negotiate with an incredibly congested toll-booth operator, the van pulled up outside the district's medical center. Derek scrambled out of the van to get the equipment ready, while Morgan and Molly went inside to meet the nurse they were going to be interviewing.

   "Hey," Morgan said approaching the receptionist at the front desk, who was busy scribbling some notes into a pad. "Morgan Winters, I'm with GLNS news. This is Molly, I was told you both spoke on the phone about an interview?"

   The receptionist looked up from her notepad and something instantly struck Morgan about her appearance. The long, wavy red hair, Morgan had already noticed from a distance. The bright blue eyes were distinctive but didn't immediately catch her notice. No, Morgan's attention was right away drawn to the sore, red rim that ran around the woman's nostrils, that was accentuated by the sudden and thick sniffle she gave.

   "One moment..." she muttered, barely managing those precious m's and n's that would have lent clarity to what she said. She casually reached over a small PA system on her desk. "Ndurse Halloway? GLNS are here" she muttered, or something to that effect, at least. Some tinny, staticky voice gave a robotic reply, and the receptionist looked back up to Morgan. "Just take a seat with the oh-others... ih-ISHIEW!"

   Morgan was grateful that the receptionist was able to grab a tissue. Still, she would have liked it all the more if the receptionist had actually managed to bring it to her nose, some time before letting out the surprising sneeze.

   "Ugh... 'scuse mbe" she mumbled, using the barely touched tissue to blow her already sore nose. "Was the last one standing up until I came in this m-mordi-ih...it'SHIEW!" she sneezed again, clearly an aftershock from the previous sneeze, but this time, thankfully, with the tissue ready to catch it.

   'Last one standing...' Morgan mentally repeated with a degree of exasperation, before directing Molly to sit beside her in the waiting room.

   "We better make this quick, alright? I'm already regretting every second of this..." she whispered to her assistant, as the woman beside her, blew her nose for the fourteenth time. "Why, what's wrong?" she asked "What do you mean, what's wrong? This place is gross. I feel gross. I want to go back to the office, where it's... I mean still gross, but less gross than this" "Oh, hush. Don't worry about it, it's just a quick interview, bit of filming of... doctor-y things, and we can do the V/O back at the studio" "I don't know how you can be so calm about this" Morgan snapped, as the man next to Molly launched into a coughing fit. Molly simply shrugged. "I'm not bothered. I had my flu shot" she said, confidently. "Do flu shots protect against colds?" asked Morgan Molly paused for a moment. "I mean, yeah, of course, they do. They're basically the same thing. Wouldn't be much point in a flu vaccine if you're just going to get a cold anyway, surely!"

   Morgan was skeptical, but before she could open her mouth to object, she heard her name called from the reception.

   "Ms. Widters?" the receptionist asked, holding a tissue to her nose as she spoke. "Ndurse Halloway will see you both dow..." she managed, before sneezing three more times into the tissue. As she pulled it away, Morgan winced at how sore and red her nose was starting to look. At that point, Morgan realized that there was nothing she could do to protect herself. From the moment she walked into the health center, she was a dead woman walking.

[hellomissmabel]

“Hello future husband”

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Bucky x plus size!reader

Warnings: Mentions of sexy times (really briefly) and major fluff! Also, Steve x Sharon Carter, if that’s a warning for you.

Word count: 2.670

Summary: Sharon is getting married to Steve, Y/N’s ex boss and also ex crush, and has asked her childhood best friend Y/N to be one of her bridesmaids. This could lead to some pretty awkward situations, but Y/N is determined to get it over with. Who knows? Maybe she’ll meet someone new? 

A/N: This is the first one-shot with a plus size reader. There will be more plus size!reader one-shots and if you want on their tag list, please let me know by sending me an ask or leaving a comment on the announcement post for said one-shot.

This one is dedicated to @im-buckybarnes

All plus size fics can be found here

“I don’t think it’s a good idea, Y/N,” your best friend Wanda had uttered as you tried on your bridesmaid dress. She’s fidgety and nervous as she brings the subject up again. “You know, given your history with Steve…”

You roll your eyes at her as you turn around, facing the mirror and admiring the smooth, white tulle. You had to give it to Sharon, she had impeccable taste. At first you were anxious that her bridesmaid dresses of choice would be too tight, given you aren’t a size two like her and the others girls. But Sharon loves your curves and as she made the final call on the dresses, she opted for an off-white top with half long sleeves and a tulle skirt to match.

“Wanda,” you whine softly at her comments, running your hands down the skirt in awe. It truly did your full-figured form justice. “Sharon and I go way back. She knows I used to work for Steve before I started on my own.”

“But does she know you used to date?,” Wanda asks casually as she twirls around in her chair, sucking on a cherry lollipop and kinking a knowing eyebrow.

“We didn’t date, Wanda,” you sigh dramatically, telling the lady of the store that you like the dress and disappear into the changing room. “I’m sure she heard the rumours!,” you shout from behind the curtain. “We kissed and fooled around. I mean, we had a good thing going on but we were never really an item. Yet I’m sure a lot of people spread nasty rumours about it behind our back.”

“You know,” Wanda says in a sing-songy voice once you emerge from the changing rooms and hand over the dress to the store assistant. “You never told me why you broke it off.”

You shoot her a confused look, thanking the lady. “I did tell you, Wanda. You were the first that heard about it.”

“You said that if you stayed on as Steve’s associate at his firm, that would’ve meant the end of your career,” she continues as she both exit the store. “You said you still wanted to grow, professionally and personally, and that the only way to make that come true was to start on your own. But you never, never explicitly said that’s why you broke it off with poor Stevie.”

“Okay,” you eventually relent after successfully hailing a cab and telling him the address to your shared apartment. “Maybe I didn’t tell you the whole story.”

Wanda mutters a victorious “I thought so” under her breath, squeezing your knee encouragingly. “So is it because of another man?,” she inquires curiously. “Is it that Sam guy you met when we went clubbing for my birthday? Or is it that Tony guy we ran into at Macy’s?”

“God no! I’m not a cheater, Wanda,” you immediately react, playfully slapping her and away. “Another woman is more like it!”

“ANOTHER WOMAN!,” Wanda exclaims so loudly the cab driver stares angrily at her from the rear-view mirror.

“One of the biggest clients Steve ever acquired, Natasha Romanoff, switched sides and left Steve’s firm to become my client. That woman has had more husbands than manicures.”

Wanda giggles at the top of her voice and the driver asks her to take it down a notch. “Anyway, It was her own decision. I had nothing to do with it, but Steve couldn’t get over it. He was so bitter over the entire thing that I had to walk on eggshells every time our paths crossed. That’s what happens when you swim in the same waters, I guess…”

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” Wanda offers sincerely, paying the cab driver and leaving a generous tip once you’ve arrived at your place.

“It’s okay, love,” you tell her honestly, walking up the stairs to the brownstone as she fishes out the key to the front door.

“Still, it must be so weird for you to see your childhood best friend marry your ex and former boss.”

“It’s definitely weird,” you admit softly, dropping your bag off before taking a seat at the kitchen table. Wanda takes a seat next to you, smiling sadly. “But he isn’t really my ex and I’m happy for them. I truly am. And let’s not forget it was me who introduced Sharon to Steve at that legal convention.”

Getting up from your seat, you know her worried eyes are following you, burning into your back as you go to boil some hot water for tea. “If Steve and I ever officially got together, the competition would’ve teared our relationship apart eventually.”

Wanda nods her head gently. “You’re sure you don’t need me to come too? As your plus one?”

“It’s been 2 years since I left. So yeah, I’ll be fine.”

The ceremony was brief but heartfelt. Sharon was wearing a sober white halter dress with a short veil, adorned with delicate white flowers. Steve was just as you remember him, dressed to the nines, as you knew he would be, in a dark blue tuxedo. They had also chosen to write their own vows. Even though your eyes often wandered back to Steve, you kept them firmly trained on Sharon for most of the time.

The wedding reception was another thing entirely. Sharon said she wanted to have an intimate wedding yet the number of guests attending the ceremony was anything but humble. You were drowning in a pool of bodies and an ocean of fabric, trying to find your assigned seat. After some searching and bumping into many unfamiliar faces, you could finally track down the wedding planner, Peggy, conveniently also Sharon’s niece.

“Let me see…,” she hums impatiently as she scans the list of tables and seats until she finds your name. “You’re sitting at the table next to the ice sculpture.”

“But all the other bridesmaids are sitting over at the chocolate fountain,” you tell Peggy, slightly confused.

Your request annoys her a little yet she goes over the names a second time, confirming her initial statement with a quick nod. “All the other bridesmaids brought their boyfriends or husbands with them. You’re the only one without a plus one. So you’re seated next to the best man, Bucky Barnes. He also didn’t bring a date.”

The name rings a bell and you half recall crossing your gaze with Steve’s best man, but you can’t quite put a face to the name just yet. “O-okay,” you stutter insecurely, earning a tired smile from Peggy who quickly sends you on your way.

The ice sculpture isn’t hard to find, located the closest to the main table where the family of the bride and groom are seated. They’re about to serve the first course, so you’ll have to hurry up. Some guests glare daggers at you as you try to wiggle past them, even though you politely ask them to move their seats up a little bit so you can swiftly move through. You’re used to it by now, the judgement some skinny people have towards men and women who don’t conform to “normal” beauty standards. You used to struggle with this for a very long time before you realised you’re better than that. Now it doesn’t affect you as much anymore, confident in your own skin and successful job.

When your table finally reaches your line of sight, the relief is unmatched, especially when you see that most of the other guests are still happily chatting away with other attendees from adjourning tables, champagne glass in hand. They haven’t even noticed there’s still one person missing, everyone except for the handsome brunet next to your empty seat.

When your eyes lock, the wind is instantly knocked from your lungs. He was looking a little sad at first, engaged in a dull conversation with the overzealous maid of honour about Sharon’s choice of flower arrangements. Yet his blues vanish into thin air the very moment your flustered cheeks reach his gaze. Licking his lips, a cocky grin tugs the corners of his lips upwards, your knees weakening at the sight of such a devilishly handsome face. His sharp cheekbones alone are enough to get you gasping for air.

Even before you have reached your final destination, he gets up from his seat and pulls back your chair, that smug expression ever-present. You thank him kindly for the gesture, remaining in a standstill for a few more seconds, astonished by his this cherub of a man. “Hello future husband,” you think to yourself as you take in his sparkling blue eyes, touches of grey glistening like the bubbles of champagne all the guests are so royally consuming.

It isn’t until he replies that you realise you didn’t just think that, but also said those exact words aloud. “Well, hello there future wife,” he chuckles confidently before sitting back down next to you. “The name’s Bucky Barnes. And what should I call this beautiful dame?”

You look away first, then bury your face in your hands. “Oh God, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be, doll,” he assures you softly, pushing your glass of champagne towards you. “Take a sip, love. It helps, trust me.”

You peer at him through your fingers, his tender smile coaxing you from behind their shelter. The glass is way too small for your liking as you drink the liquid all at once, taming your embarrassment. “My name is Y/N,” you smile sheepishly at his open mouth.

“Well, Y/N,” he muses in an amused tone, “Bride or groom?”

“Both,” you admit shyly, “Sharon and I grew up together and I used to work with Steve.”

“You’re a the Y/N Y/L/N,” he exclaims all of a sudden and you groan at his enthusiasm. “The divorce mediator that used to shag dear ol’ Steve.” He leans back in his chair, pupils blown in amazement. “It’s a shame Steve never got to introduce us. I spent a long time abroad.” Carding his fingers through his hair, he exhales gently as he looks deep into your eyes. “I’m a divorce lawyer, too.”

“I’m a mediator, there’s a big difference there. You have a degree in law, I have a degree in psychology and law.”

Swirling the crystal glass between your fingertips, you avert your eyes from his curious gaze. Maybe you were wrong about him, maybe he believes the rumours just like everyone else.

“And apparently I’m also the only single friend. I wonder why that is,” you laugh softly, the sound bittersweet.

“Hey now,” he instantly shifts forward in his seat, taking one of your hands in his while the other caresses your cheek, brushing away a stray wisp of hair curled for the occasion. “You are stunning, doll, and I’m so freaking lucky you’re single and that I ended up seated next to you.”

“Peggy might’ve mentioned something similar, too,” you whisper to yourself so Bucky doesn’t hear, a little smile gracing your lips. Squeezing your hand one last time, he lets go so the waiter can present you the first course. You smile gratefully at Bucky, your spirits lifted high by his considerate reaction. You can see it in his eyes that he means every single word.

Dinner is spent in joyous chatter, Bucky visibly rejuvenated by your presence and how much you have in common. You barely speak to anyone else during the entire service, the best man absorbing all of your attention so effortlessly that you hang on every word that falls from his lips. When the time has arrived for the first dance, his loving fingertips find their way to your knee under the table cloth. It isn’t until “Yours” by Ella Henderson starts to play and Sharon and Steve weave their hands together in perfect unison, that you understand Bucky’s sign of affection.

“You don’t have to look, doll,” Bucky whispers gingerly into your ear.

Silently appreciating the elegance of the scene taking place in front of you, you rest your hand on Bucky’s. “It’s okay, Bucky. I love this song.”

He graces you with an understanding smile, placing his other hand over yours so both his hands now share their warmth with you. It helps you through the first dance and as soon as Sharon and Steve clear the dancefloor for the other guests, he pulls you with him straightaway. Bucky twirls you around, shows off his dance moves and more importantly, makes you laugh and feel loved.

He pulls you close when the DJ switches things up and plays a slow song again, his lips caress the shell of your ear as he speaks. “You are the most enchanting creature I’ve ever had the pleasure of getting to know.”

“Thank you, Bucky,” you whisper in return as he presses his cheek to yours, chuckling happily and smiling like a complete dork.

A spirited cough resounds from behind you and reluctantly you detangle yourself from Bucky, who takes a step back once he sees who it is. “I was hoping to have a quick chat with you. It won’t take long.”

Steve straightens his back, knowing his interruption is unwelcome. But Bucky doesn’t seem to mind, so you nod and let him take over. As the music plays out, you sway and shuffle to the final notes. “I see you and Bucky are having a lot of fun,” he notes with a soft chuckle. “I’m glad you could make it, Y/N.”

“I’m glad, too,” you say as you lay your head to rest on his shoulder. “You and Sharon make a great couple. I still wonder why you didn’t tie the knot as soon as I introduced you two.”

Hearty laughter rumbles through his chest and he presses one last, chaste kiss to your temple. “Y/N… About Bucky, he’s a great guy. He won’t hurt you like I did. I’m so sorry, love. You deserved better.”

“Steve…” You try to tell him he shouldn’t say things like that but he has already joined Sharon’s side again, his absence soon replaced by Bucky who picks up where you left off, swirling you into his arms.

“That’s not my favourite look on you, doll,” Bucky hums in a flirty voice, noticing you’re a little thrown off guard by Steve’s sudden revelation. “Why don’t you smile for me, hm?”

With a girly giggle, you push away all thoughts of Steve and replace them with happy thoughts about Bucky. “Better?,” you smirk at him as you peck his cheek and he turns all red.

“Sweetheart,” he coos seductively, flashing you a toothy grin. “I don’t mean to be too forward, but can I take you home tonight? I’m not asking you to sleep with me or anything,” he adds quickly, sensing your reluctance, “I just want to make sure you get home safely and maybe, just maybe, you’ll give me your number as a thank you?”

Now it’s your to hum in amusement. “Maybe I’ll give you more than just my number as a thank you,” you tease him playfully.

“A date?,” he pipes up hopefully, boyish laughter escaping his lips.

“Yes. But only if you take me home safely,” you promise with a wink.

Bucky tightens his grip around your waist, pulling you flush to his chest. “Well, well, future wife, I think we have a deal here.”

“Well, well,” you nudge his nose with yours, his lips hovering over yours, “future husband. I think we do.”

“Perfect,” he mumbles to yours lips, “You’re fucking perfect,” kissing you slowly on the lips. “Did I already mention that I love curvy girls?”

“You might’ve, I don’t remember clearly,” you play coy, “But it doesn’t hurt to say it again.”

Bucky repeatedly pecks your lips, both of you smiling brightly into the soft kisses, before offering you his hand, which you gladly take. You quickly escape the wedding crowd, kicking your heels off as soon as you get into his car, ready for a hot ‘n heavy make-out session at the backseat of his car.

Tagging: @avengerofyourheart @a-little-hell-to-raise @marvelingatthewonder @mrshopkirk @hardcorehippos @knittingknerdy @winterboobaer @italwaysendsinafightt @viollettes @hymnofthevalkyrie @feelmyroarrrr @justareader @austinamelio @volklana @4theluvofall @themcuhasruinedme @theoneandonlysaucymo @caplanbuckybarnes @nenyakj @amrita31199 @emilyevanston @minervaem @howlingbarnes @buchananbarnestrash @youandb @you-and-bucky @fvckingsteverogers @thatawkwardtinyperson @that-sokovian-bastard @abovethesmokestacks @marvelrevival @marvel-fanfiction @justanotherbuckydevotee @barnes-heaven @heartmade-writingbucky @buckyywiththegoodhair @captnbarnesrogers @mellifluous-melodramas @its-not-a-phase-hux @melconnor2007 @ivvitm1109 @toofuckinfabulous @ailynalonso15 @jurassicbarnes @hollycornish @delicatecapnerd @camigt1999 @learisa @curlyexpat @palaiasaurus64 @fanndas-snow-goddess @crisssivonne @yourenotrogers @tomhollandzs @supernaturaldean67 @beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep @aletheladyinred @winterssmiles @xbergiex @reniescarlett @promarvelfangirl

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@psingh97 @pineapplebooboo @albinoatthedisco @magnolia-wanders @whatisaheroanyway @dinorapreira @alexandragoestothemovies @lostinspace33 @bluebrrn @imsupernaturalbaby @anitavalija @sebstanchrisevanchickforever19 @friendlyneighborhoodnazgul @kiwi71281 @feistytravel @modvinnie @rcarbo1 @cami23593 @captainamylouise @kudosia @rhyatt-deauxtreve @kirakombat @lumelgy @pleasantdreamqueen @suz-123 @pegasusdragontiger @saysay125 @yknott81 @jesspfly @marvel-at-bucky @blue1928

@garnetandlace @ilovebeingjoyful @50shadesofyes @rebelslicious @iamwarrenspeace @wildestdreamsrps @mizzzpink @fuckingchaotic @rrwilson66 @alexaduke @debzybrazy @glitterintheairblog @princess76179 @ilovebeingjoyful @thequeenofthehobbits @rda1989 @svenyves @thefandomimagines @perrychastain @cokamarie24 @kyleannsmut @giorgiagrl1990 @breezy1415 @buckyappreciationsociety @the-witching-hours12-3 @crazyjam-pot

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