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sunnymoonxx · 1 year ago

Text

red eyes, fangs and talons | miguel o'hara × fem!reader

summary: After another session with Miles, you're left with Miguel filled with anger and frustration. And only you know how to ease him up.

warnings; this is just pure filth, read at your own risk, degradation, unprotected p in v, oral (m receive), vulgar language, kinda voyeurism? if you close your eyes, praise, fangs, talons, talking about being "used," mentions of blood, bondage, angry sex

author's note: I'm not a native English speaker, so I apologize for any grammar mistakes. Also, the Spanish xd. I studied Spanish for a while, but it's no better than google translate, I tried my best xd.

m.list

"No puedo más, no puedo más," you heard a voice mumbling after the room cleared out, leaving only you, Jess, and Miguel. For the past two hours, you and Miguel have been trying to explain to the new recruit, Miles Morales, how the canons work and how they can not be changed. It obviously took a number in Miguel. He covered his face in his hands, back crouched, holding himself back to not break another innocent machine. You and Jess stood silently, glaring at each other, too scared to say anything. At moments like this, even Jess questioned her choices in life.

You decided to risk it and step forward towards Miguel, who still kept whispering something to himself. You were just a few steps behind him when he turned around, his eyes glowing red, facing you.

"Jess, don't take your eyes off Morales," he demanded, not taking his eyes off you. He towered over you, his hair a mess, eyes dark red, and fangs visible over his lips. He was animalistic. And it wasn't the first time you saw him like this. "Make sure he stays here."

"Copy that," Jess responded without hesitation. The next thing you hear is her motorcycle starting, leaving you alone with Miguel. Miguel's talons grew bigger, caused by uncontrollable anger and desire to destroy things. He ripped a machine in half, not even a few minutes ago, and even tho you've known him for years, you couldn't help but be a little scared. You stood there, not daring to say anything, not even knowing what to say, as Miguel moved towards you, scanning you with his vampire-looking eyes.

"You help him one more time," he started, his voice deep and steady, his accent more visible now. "You're out." The thought of being kicked out of the Spider Society made your heart skip a beat. This was all you had. You couldn't go back home. You had nothing there. But you knew Miguel or Jess wouldn't hesitate to send you back if it meant protecting the Multiverse. So you nodded without letting out a word. You understood, even tho you couldn't help but feel pity for him. For Miles. He's still just a kid. But if it meant the multiverse stayed safe, you would do anything to protect it. Even letting Miles' dad die.

"I understand," You kept your head low, not daring to look him in the eyes. You wanted to go and disappear into your room before you felt Miguel's hands grab your face, his talons touching your cheeks, lifting your head up.

"It's the right thing to do." He whispered, his voice a tad softer, but you could still hear the anger filling him. And you've been through this many times to know how this always ends. You didn't fight it. You actually enjoyed it, although you'd never admit it to yourself.

"Yeah, I know." You smiled at him, staring into his bloody eyes. His fangs pierced his lips, causing a drop of blood to drip down his chin. Without thinking, you lifted your hand to brush it off, Miguel carefully watching you. He didn't flinch or move. He let you caress his lips to wash away the blood on his full lips. You didn't even notice you were backed up against a table, Miguel's hand on your waist while the other still held your chin. You dropped your arms, fingers sliding down his torso, not breaking eye contact.

"I made a mistake, I know." You whispered, Miguel tilting his head, his talons carefully caressing your cheek and moving down to your neck. "I've made you angry." He nodded, approving of what you were saying, his eyes following the talons outlining the lines of your collarbones. His claws were so sharp. If he wasn't careful, he could rip your skin apart. And even though he was mad at you, at Lyla, and Miles at everyone, he didn't want to hurt you. There were always other ways to show you his anger and disappointment with you.

"I'm sorry for that, Miguel." You let out, his talons stopping where your heart would be. It was beating fast, blood rushing through your veins. He could feel it all. Hear your inconsistent breath. Feel you tremble beneath him. He could smell the heat between your legs.

"Está bien," his lips formed a little smile, you were sure you were imagining it. His hand moved to your chin again, grabbing you harder, forcing you to look at him. "Just don't obey my orders ever again. Is that clear?" He said out loud, making sure you heard him.

He grabbed your cheeks so hard you couldn't even open your mouth in response. But he knew you understood. And while you were focusing on his one hand grasping your cheeks, you gasped when you felt his other hand rip your suit in half, letting it fall to the floor. The number of torn suits of yours and the number of the new ones that Lyla has made for you, because of this reason. You lost count after seven.

You didn't wear anything under your suit, as it would ruin the lines of your figure, you were fully exposed to him now, his talons moving up and down your stomach. They were cold to the touch, making you hold your breath every time they touched your skin. But they still managed to make your panties wet with arousal. You loved it when he took you like this. Like you were his. Like you belonged to him. You exist just for him. You fucking loved it. Being taken from behind while pulling your hair. His fingers fucking your cunt because you wouldn't stop annoying him. You choking on his cock after he's had enough of your teasing. Being in the Spider Society had its pros and cons. This was one of the pros.

"Eres tan hermosa, arañita". he let out a breath, his talons circling your nipples. If he was so gentle with you, it made your walls clench around nothing. His hands stopped at your ribs, his eyes again scanning your face, head tilted. Like he was thinking about what he wanted to do. What he's gonna do with you tonight. It didn't take him a long time to figure out.

You watched as he placed his strong hands on your shoulders, slightly pushing down. You understood what he wanted. You kneeled in front of him, no questions asked. You've done this so many times, you knew his thoughts by memory. For a few seconds, he just stared at you, naked kneeling in front of him, looking at the massive bulge in his suit. Fuck, he almost came just by looking at you. So desperate for his cock.

You moved your hair out of your face, right before his suit opened, right at his crotch revealing his cock, already covered in precum. He was thick and big, spreading you every time he fucked you. It was a mix of pain and pleasure, making tears fall from your eyes, and orgasm take over your body. He never failed to satisfy you. Never failed to make you beg for more.

"You know what to do," he said, looking down at you, grasping your hair, pulling it slightly. You smiled to yourself, lifting your hands still on your knees and bringing them to his cock. As you grabbed him, your whole hand couldn't fit around him. Made you wetter than before. You decided to tease him a little bit, leaving just slight strokes, not fully touching him, your lips so close to him, he could feel your breath. You regretted it a few minutes after he lost his patience, pushing your head forward, his cock deep inside your mouth.

"Take it, you whore." His hands held your head in place while his hips thrust into your mouth. His cock in your mouth, leaving bruises, your eyes filling with tears. You loved being used like this. You loved being fucked like a slut. You enjoyed it when he called you derogatory names. Sometimes, he mixed it with praise. Fucking you hard, telling you how good of a slut you are for him. He could fuck you with his words without even touching you.

His hips started to move faster, his cock throbbing inside your mouth. He was close. And he was gonna cum on your tongue. Just how you liked it.

"Fuck," he growled, his hold on your head losing strength which confirmed he would finish in your mouth. "So good around my cock," he whispered to himself, fucking your mouth harder, making sure to leave bruises. To mark you as his.

"I'm-." Before he managed to finish the sentence, his cum started to fill your mouth, warming your tongue. He stayed there for a while, recovering before pulling out, breathing heavily. He watched you as you swallowed his load, licking your fingers after cleaning your lips. Fuck, you looked so good.

"You look so good when I fuck your mouth," he smiled at you, trying to push away the sweaty hair on your forehead. You looked so beautiful, kneeling in front of him, your tits out, your cheeks and eyes red, sweat dripping down your forehead. You were a mess already, and he had just begun.

"Stand up," he commanded. You had some trouble getting up after sitting for so long, Miguel noticed and helped you by lifting you up and sitting you down on the table in front of him. He was still so huge, your eyes facing his stomach. You both loved the size difference.

"I want you to be quiet," he said, his eye redder than before. "You're not gonna make a single sound, or I'll stop. Do you understand?" You nodded your head, understanding completely. You've already been through this. Many times, he left you all spread out in his bed because you couldn't keep quiet. Forcing you to deal with it on your own, but nothing ever felt good as his tongue or his cock.

"Good girl," he said, staring into your eyes, his talons digging into your thighs as he spreads me apart. Your cunt is so wet, the smell hits him in the nose. All he's done was fuck your throat and you were already soaking wet for him. He couldn't help but laugh to himself. He didn't break eye contact as his hand traveled down between your legs, making you bring your hand to your mouth to not make any noise as he touched your bare cunt. His fingers on your wet clit, gently moving up and down.

"No así, mi dulce." He clicked his tongue, shaking his head. It was too fast, you didn't have time to think as he turned you around fast, pushing you down, your tits touching the cold wood of the table. Ass up, and bend over. His favorite view. Just waiting to get fucked like a slut.

You should have known he wouldn't stop at this, as he also took your arms, forcing them apart and sticking them to the edge of the table with his web shooters. His feet kicked your legs, so they were more apart from each other.

"Joder, eres tan jodidamente hermosa." He whispered as he stepped back to take a better look at you. Bent down over the work table, legs apart, ass up, your tits pushed against the wood, and your arms tied up by his web shooters. So ready for him. Ready to get fucked in the ass by him. He loved the control he had over you. He cherished every second of it.

You felt his talons, going up and down your spine as you lay there, waiting for him to use you. He bent down to your ear, his fangs digging into your earlobe. "If you want me to stop, now is the time, sweetie," He whispered gently, awaiting your answer. You nodded your head.

"Good," he smiled, stepping back again as he took off his hologram suit, his brought shoulders and back visible to the world. You wish you could have seen him exposed, just like you, in the middle of an open office. Anyone could've walked in and seen you being fucked like a slut. But anyone with common sense knew not to bother Miguel now. So you were safe. And for Lyla? She's probably in here somewhere. But this was nothing she hadn't seen before.

Miguel's fingers brushed over your wet clit, testing you, if you make any noises. He was determined to break you tonight. When you stayed silent, he kneeled, attaching his fat tongue to you. That's when he heard a little whimper out of you. You could feel his cold fangs touching your lips, but you know he wouldn't use them like this. There were other places where he loved burying them inside of you. As your thoughts were occupied with his fangs, his tongue started to move faster, licking up and down your slit, his hands spreading your ass cheeks apart.

"Tastes so good," he growled against your cunt, sending shivers down your spine. His tongue and mouth were one of your favorite things about him. The way be devoured your cunt every single time. He could yell at you about how you're useless and only causing problems, but seconds later, he'd be on his knees, eating you out like he'd never eaten before. You could crumble on his tongue, and see stars and worlds just by the way he worked on your cunt.

You tried so hard to keep quiet as his tongue kept working on you, preparing you for his cock. His hands were still grabbing your ass you were sure he left a mark. He loved showing others you were his. That you loved being fucked and used by him.

You felt your orgasm approaching before you felt his tongue disappear and heard him get up, standing now behind you, staring at your cunt. The room was quiet, only his heavy breathing filling the silence. You weren't sure how you were gonna keep silent, and you were sure you were gonna fail.

"Tan bonito para mi," he smirked, grabbing his cock and stroking himself for a while before his tip touched your entrance. "No hagas un sonido." He said before slamming himself deep inside of you, spreading your cunt with his fat cock. You wanted to cry out, scream his name, but you didn't. Your walls surrounded him, his cock so deep inside of you, if you had free hands you could feel him by touching your lower belly.

"Mierda," you heard him whisper before he gently moved his hips back and slammed into you again. His thrusts slowly began to be harder and faster, making sure he didn't cause you any unnecessary pain. After he was sure and by your muffled moans, he started to pound into you like an animal holding your hips, his talons digging into your skin. His fat cock hitting all the spots in your cunt, your eyes rolling in the back of your head, making you see stars. You never wanted this moment to end. You kinda wished Miles Morales would stick around to piss off Miguel more often. You certainly liked the results of his anger.

"Miguel," you moaned, quickly regretting it and pressing your forehead against the table, hoping Miguel didn't hear it. You knew he did when he stopped his movements, his cock still deep inside of you. You felt him bend over, lips to your ears, fangs making an appearance again.

"¿Qué dijiste, querida?" he asked calmly, one hand on the table to stable himself and the other one caressing your back. You quickly shook your head, not daring to meet his gaze. You were so close, and he stopped. Fuck.

You wanted to apologize and beg him to continue, but he spoke first. "I'm not gonna stop." He whispered in your ear before slowly moving his lips down, his cold fangs touching your skin. "I'm gonna make it so much worse." His voice was calm, and you could hear him smirk in it. With his free hand, he ripped off the web shooters holding your arms before lifting you up and pressing you against his chest. He started to pound into you again, talons on your hips and his fangs piercing your skin. The overstimulation of it all made you cry out loud not holding your screams back anymore. You cried his name out before you knew it was gonna get even worse. His free hand moved down your belly to your clit, where he started to spread your lips with his fingers. Fuck.

You didn't know what to focus on first. His talons and fangs marking you as his, his fingers rubbing your clit, or his fat cock pounding into your cunt without mercy. You were tired, and your legs were giving up, but the pleasure taking over your body. You've never felt that ever before.

You were close, too close, and Miguel knew it. "Cum for me," he growled into your skin, taking out his fangs and sucking on the blood spilling from the wound. His fingers started to move faster in your clit, his cock not changing pace in fucking you. "Show me how much you love being my good little whore." He whispered into your ear and with the next thrust of his, you came hard on his cock, your walls almost crushing him. You wanted to fall down but Miguel's arms held you close to him, not stopping pounding into your already sensitive and overstimulated pussy. He was close himself, but you could feel another orgasm approaching as he kept fucking into you restlessly.

"Miguel, fuck." You moaned, his hand moving up to play with your bouncing tits. You could feel him coming closer, this time, same as you. With his last thrust, you came on his cock again and he followed you shortly after. His cum filling you up, marking you as his. You fell onto the table, trying to recover yourself, Miguel's cock still deep inside of you.

You felt his hands lean against your back as he himself tried to catch his breath. Both of you stayed like that for minutes before Miguel pulled out of you, turning you carefully against him and picking you up, bridal style. You didn't care where he was taking you, you were so fucked up you didn't pay attention to anything.

You realized he put you into a bath, filled with hot water that smelled like vanilla. Miguel followed you and sat behind you, pulling you on his lap.

"You did good," he whispered into your ear and started to wash your body from the mess you two made. "I'm proud of you," His lips met your cheek, and a smile spread across your face. You let him wash your sensitive body while you relaxed in his arms, slowly drifting to sleep.

#miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara fic #miguel ohara #beyond the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #into the spiderverse #across the spiderverse #atsv x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara smut #smut

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redbullgirly · 9 months ago

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HI BARBIE! HI KEN! [part 2, LH44 smau]

Lewis Hamilton x reader

Masterlist & Hi Barbie! Hi Ken! [part 1, LH44 smau]

Summary: Lewis and his "real life Barbie" girlfriend, Y/N Y/L/N, are enjoying each others company during winter break. February brings unexpected drama when the seven-time World Champion decides to leave his team... though is that the only surprise waiting for the fans?

Warnings: Little cliffhanger at the end, but don't worry, I plan on making part 3 soon enough :).

Author's Note: This is continuation of the Lewis x barbie!fashion!icon!reader request, hope you'll all like it. This time there wasn't so much of "barbie content", but I'm sure you won't mind. I honestly love this series, plus there are still many photos for me to use, so stay tuned and let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! :)

lewishamilton posted on instagram

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tagged: yourusername and fencer

lewishamilton Happy holidays from our little trip to mountains 🏔

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user1 I swear to God this is the first time I see Lewis in snow

user2 ikr? like can he even sky? isn't it dangerous for him as an f1 driver??😭

yourusername merry christmas everybody, love u!!🎄🫶

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user3 Very happy and merry Christmas to you too Y/N🥰

user4 yeah yeah... but where's the usual christmas post y/n?!

user5 that's what I wanna know user5 😥

user6 She always posts the hot pics with their tree... and this year nothing ☹️

yourusername omg sry guys, i didn't think you'd care sm! i was actually sick on the christmas eve and didn't feel like celebrating 🙈💖

user4 ohhh that's totally okay y/n!!!!

user7 Thanks for replying, hope you'll get better soon!❤️‍🩹

charles_leclerc I see you're copying my training now😉

user8 lol charles just try not to fall on your face on ski

user9 no but can you imagine if we got Charles & Lewis training together in the mountains 😩

user10 It wouldn't even have to be in the mountains... I'd actually prefer them training somewhere hot so they don't have to wear shirts🤭

user9 i love your way of thinking girly

user11 King 👑

roscoelovescoco Mom's and dad's playing's in's the snow's ❄️

liked by the author and yourusername

user12 they left you home alone Roscoe?

roscoelovescoco Of course's not's... my auntie's watched's me's ☺️

user13 This is so adorable🥹🥹

user14 y'all don't understand how much I love their little family

user15 😘🖤✌️💯🌟

user16 y/n's ski suit looks so cool

fencer Good times man!

liked by the author and yourusername

user17 You are my God, Lewis Hamilton❤️

mercedesamgf1 Enjoy your holidays and don't break anything please!⛷🤍

yourusername trying!! 😊🌨

user18 lmfao

user19 Imagine if their best driver broke a leg or smth💀

user20 as a Lewis fan that'd be the last straw of my depression xd

user21 It's enough they couldn't build him a decent car last two years 🥲

user21 you & y/n are the best couple ever!🥰❤️

user22 Why's Lewis in red tho?

user23 sus 🤨

user24 some of you are truly bored and delusional🤣

user25 He probably has it so Y/N can see him on the slope and watches over him tbh

user26 idk where the narrative of lewis being bad at skying came from but i love it 😭

twitter

yourusername posted on instagram stories

seen by lewishamilton, haileybieber, danielricciardo, emmawatson and 562,983 others

lewishamilton replied to your story: Love you so much baby!❤️

yourusername love u too!!!💞

lewishamilton You are my brave girl, aren't you?

lewishamilton It's great you share your experience with others Y/N and trust me when I say I'll always be there for you 🫶🏾🫶🏾

yourusername awww lew, i know and i'll be always so grateful for it 🥰

lewishamilton Anything for my Barbie yourusername reacted with ❤️ to this message

user1 replied to your story: You and Lewis are just soooo cute omg

alexandrasaintmleux replied to your story: forever y/n!!🤍🌺

yourusername ofc!!!

yourusername you're probably the only reason i hope the negotiations w ferrari will work out 🙈🤭

alexandrasaintmleux oh yeah, it'd be great to have you in the garage next year 💕

yourusername yeah, let's see what happens in few weeks!

user2 replied to your story: so prettyyyyyy i wanna be u

user3 replied to your story: THE IT GIRL

landonorris replied to your story: The question isn't if you'll be at every gp but if you'll come to McLaren hospitality for one of them😏

yourusername pretty sure mercedes wouldn't be happy about that 🫣

landonorris Oh c'mmon Y/NNNN

landonorris You promised me like ten years ago you'd come

yourusername you were a literal baby ten years ago lando...

landonorris But a cute baby who deserves to have you in McLaren hospitality!!!

yourusername okay okay, i'll come for a visit this year 😽

landonorris ONE HAMILTON DOWN TWO TO GO💪

yourusername what?? 😭

landonorris I decided my life goal is to get you, Roscoe and Lewis to be my fans 😁😁

landonorris Lewis can wait till retirement ofc 😁😁

yourusername idk if i hate you or love you mr. worldwide

landonorris 🤷😙

user4 replied to your story: Mommy and daddy fr

user5 replied to your story: 😍

user6 replied to your story: Hope you'll heal soon if you're still sick!!!

yourusername posted on instagram

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yourusername my job is beach 🦀🐬🐚🪸☀️ (btw how many emojis is too much??)

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lewishamilton Isn't that supposed to be Ken's line darling?

yourusername theoretically... but i think i look better on the beach, don't you? 🤭🤷‍♀️

lewishamilton Well of course, your fashion taste when it comes to bikini is hard to beat ✨🫶🏾

yourusername damn are you saying i look hot in that bikini mr. hamilton? ☺️💞

lewishamilton It's Sir actually

yourusername oh shut up lew, i knew you're gonna bring it up 😭

landonorris I just witnessed Lewis openly flirting through instagram comments... the world won't ever be the same. I need to bleach my eyes 😓

yourusername yeah u should learn from my bf lando norizz

landonorris Heyyy this is online bullying, someone stop it

yourusername 😘😘

landonorris 🫤

user1 i have no idea what just happened but i loved every second of it

user2 It looks like when Lewis finally interacts with someone on instagram, it can get WILD

user3 not y/n using lando norizz 💀

user4 she's one of us now

user5 BUT CAN WE TALK ABOUT HOW SWEET Y/N & LEWIS ARE PLS?!!🥹

user6 Y/N living her best life and I'm here for it

francisca.cgomes enjoy!🌴

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yourusername thx kika, you too!!💓

user7 On my knees for you🛐🛐🛐

roscoelovescoco The fruit's on's the plane's was yummy's 😋🥗

yourusername i definitely agree, let's thank dad for spoiling us!💖

lewishamilton My favourites deserve only the best 😉

user8 AWWWW so cute

user9 I'll never understand why rich people torture their pets like this... c'mmon, why would you give fruit to a dog? He needs meat and dog food. ��😤

user10 tf user9 you clearly don't know them at all if you think they're torturing Roscoe... this dog has better life than most of us lol xd

yourusername i'd just like to make it clear to everyone that me and lewis take the best care of our dog we possibly can, give him the food he wants and needs and love him dearly. it feels very offending for someone who doesn't see into our private life to assume we're "torturing" roscoe. you'll be blocked user9 and goodbye

liked by lewishamilton

user11 You know you fucked up when queen Y/N herself writes smth like this to you 🫢

user12 tell them girl!!! you & lew are literally the best parents to roscoe ever!!!❣️

user13 🔥😍

user14 THE BODY GIVING

kellypiquet Wow, the dress is so beautiful!💝

yourusername aww kelly thank you sm! definitely have to see each other soon 💕🫶

kellypiquet Can't wait for the girls talk!

user15 omg imagine listening to y/n y/l/n and kelly piquet casually having girls talk w each other 😫😫

user16 The tea has to be hot between the wags

user17 OMG, gorgeous as always 💖

user18 this couple has me in a chokehold

user19 RIGHT?! why is nobody talking about the 4th pic

user20 They're so hot fr 🥵

user21 and cute too🥺

user22 Love you Y/N 💋

lewishamilton posted on instagram

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tagged: yourusername

lewishamilton It's always important to focus on happy memories and remember the good moments with your loved ones. Couldn't ask for better people around me 🤞🏾💫

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user1 funny how he talks about positivity and then in the first picture he's holding middle fingers up lmfao XD

user2 Maybe he took Daniel's F.E.A. rule to his heart🤣

user3 what's that???

user2 Fuck 'em all

yourusername so lucky to have you around me lew! 🥰💗

liked by the author

user4 stoppp I love her

user5 I wanna have what they have😩

charles_leclerc 🤞💫

user6 Ariana what are you doing here?!

user7 Beautiful 🙌❤️

user8 ohhh lew w his dad it's so cute

user9 His dad and Y/N in the same post... we are getting fed rn

neymarjr Amen brother!🙏❤️

liked by the author

user10 I love their their friendship

user11 it's so unreal how the world is small and my fav football player is friends with my fav driver🤭

user12 THE MAN

user13 the second pic is adorable 🥹🥹

user14 I'm jealous but I don't know if I wanna be him or her

user15 honestly i wanna be the third person in their relationship... imagine dating y/n y/l/n & lewis hamilton all at once😩

user16 OMG REAL

user17 boyfriend lewis is my favorite 🫡

1st February 2024

yourusername posted on instagram

liked by scuderiaferrari, lewishamilton, maxfewtrell, t22felton and 3,340,276 others

yourusername guess it's time to change colours ❤️🍓🌹🏎

view all 29,650 comments

scuderiaferrari Welcome to the team, Y/N!❤️‍🔥🏎

user1 you'll make our fav wag depressed next year lol

user2 Ferrari made a master move here 👏

user3 welcome y/nnnnn 🥰

user4 I'm still shocked

user5 me too sis😭

user6 We all are 😃

user7 🔥🔥

user8 when the gf is posting about it, we know it's not just a joke anymore😥

user9 FORZA FERRARI

user10 omg me & y/n y/l/n will be fans of the same team!!!!

user11 literally the only good thing about this

alexandrasaintmleux red looks gorgeous on you 💋💋

yourusername on both of us babe 💋💋

user12 BESTIES

user11 okay this is another good thing about the whole lewis situation xd

user13 Y/N and Alex will be so iconic next year 🙇‍♀️

user14 literally life goals to be like them😍

user15 So excited for this🤩 favorite driver and favorite team and favorite wag🤝

user16 idc about ferrari, but y/n in red slays

user17 omg yessss she's so hot in that dress🥵

charles_leclerc And now you can't make fun of me and my therapist 😘

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user18 LOL

user19 not him admitting he goes to therapy bc of ferrari💀

user20 What about Carlos?? You said you come as a package 😡😪

user21 so true user20 it's so disrespectful towards carlos

user22 Guys calm down, this is their job and it's known for brutal driver switches. You'll have to deal with it, it's not personal business 🤷‍♂️

user23 yeah i don't think they're such good friends anyway... it was all for pr and marketing lmao

user24 I agree that it's just a sport, but pls don't do this to my charlos heart... their friendship HAS to be real😓

user25 Always support u and your boyfriend😉😉😉🙌🙌🙌

user26 Carlos deserved so much more!

user27 yes but she can't do anything about it girl, she's literally just dating Lewis 😐

user28 "Everybody is a Ferrari fan. Even if they say they're not, they are Ferrari fans." Vettel❤️

user29 i did not think it was real

user30 I need Lewis to comment something about this other than his statement pls 😭

user31 yeah i had high hopes bc he always comments and interacts w y/n's posts...

user32 Guess not this time😒

user33 Y/N unleashing more waves of chaos

user34 and we love our barbie for that 🤭

messages between Y/N and Lewis

THE END

Author's Note: Thank you for reading this! I'll appreciate likes, reblogs, comments, follow and any other way of support. Also, I started my taglist, so if you want to be added or removed, let me know! That way you!ll be first to know that another smau or story came out :). Sorry for the cliffhanger at the end, but don't worry, I plan on making another part. Have a great day!

Taglist: @namgification @bloodyymaryyy

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writers-ex · 1 year ago

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i scream, you scream 🔪

ghostface!ryujin x fem!reader

warnings: trigger warning, phone sex, g!itzy, masturbation, horror themes, this isn't too accurate to the movies bc im too chicken to finish the first movie TwT, noncon

word count:847

kinktober ff, first attempting after a long time of writing, I’m not out of hiatus just yet but I wanted to have a part in this smut’s festivities xD enjoy besties

despite all the news and gossip from school your day was going surprisingly well, a bit too well making your stomach turn as you walked home. entering the door you began checking every lock and hole was closed tight before retiring into your living room waiting for your parents to return. mindlessly watching a tv show you get a text saying that their plans were taking longer than expected and assure you that they would be home before you went to school the following day. wrapping your arms around each other in an attempt to calm yourself down you decided the best place to be was room, turning off the tv you stand up to walk over when your phone begins to ring.

"unknown caller...maybe it's from their hotel room? they did mention that they would call to wish me goodnight?...hello? mom? dad?"

"scary night, isn't it?"

"huh?"

"being all alone at home must make you scared, perfect time to watch a scary movie wouldn't you agree?"

chills travel down your spine when you recognize the tone of his voice, chaeryeong had mentioned it one of the last times you spoke to her. it seemed to be just a rumor or tall tale to scare the freshman but now hearing it for yourself you felt your knees go weak.

"w-who is this?"

"i just wanna play a game." remembering the consequence of those who hung up on this ghostface killer you slowly make your way to your room and shut the blinds clutching your phone.

"a-and what happens if i refuse?"

"well i'll just tell everyone about how you masturbate every night to a certain female student~" your cheeks redden and breathing becomes short and shallow, wondering how they knew that detail your thoughts are cut off with their harsh words. "if you don't want this secret to get out or for me to come in, there's something i want you to do."

"wait you don't know-" a quick faraway knock on your front door makes your eyes widen and dart to the source of the noise. immobilized by fear you stay completely frozen in the center of your bed.

"you getting scared?"

"...n-no."

"then follow my rules and i'll let you off with a...warning." whimpering a response, the voice behind the phone chuckles and sighs contently. "all i want you to do is show me how you would get off with ryujin if she were there. let me hear every noise you make and don't hold back or else~" your brain and body still haven't comprehended the request leaving you quiet on the other side of the call, they get impatient and sigh. "here let me help a bit…” after a brief pause and muffled movements the other caller clears their throat. “hey doll~" snapping out of your trance you hear ryujin's voice and begin to tremble.

"ryujin? what are you doing with that psycho?? have they hurt you in anyway?"

"i'm ok doll, just a bit bruised but glad to hear your voice. although i was told to keep talking to you and you would do the rest?" remembering the request, you take a deep breath and close your eyes.

a tear falls down your face as you spread your legs open sliding off your sweats and panties. trying to focus on ryujin and her voice you circle around your clit wishing it was her tongue slowly tasting you. opening your legs wider your fingers trace your inner thigh as the ryujin in your thoughts grips them open before eating you out. your fingers sliding in and out of you causes you to let out a breathy moan, ryujin's tone quickens making you finger yourself faster as your fantasy starts building up towards the climax.

your back slightly arched you move your other hand to play with your nipple making you grit your teeth to stop a loud moan from being heard by your crush when the phone call goes dead. unaware of the silence from the other side nor of your front door being picked and opened footsteps closer to your bedroom door.

"hey doll!" a tight knot in your stomach began to form when your eyes open to reveal ryujin hovering over you with a long black robe on. an evil sly grin written all over her face she gets on your bed and pins you against it. "i had to see this part for myself, i've always wanted to know what it felt like to make you feel as good as you sound some nights."

your mouth opens but words fail to come out as you watch ryujin strip bare with red stains splatter across her chest. her erection is clearly evident as it teases your entrance, gripping your wrists above your head she bends down and gives you a long hungry stare licking her lips as she takes the time to see each curve and bump on your body.

"from now on i promise you are not to be alone again. let me finish what we started on the call, be a dear and give me a loud scream won't you?"

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simpforrooster · 2 months ago

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the best pilot in the navy.

pete “maverick” mitchell x f!simpson reader

summary: your admiral father allows you to work control room during the uranium mission, despite your relationship with maverick. the pilot who’s a pain in his ass.

t/w: some angst, language. fluff at the end. not sure if the specifics are navy accurate, but let me have this xD

“can you handle this, captain?” you father asked you in his office.

“yes, sir,” you replied.

he studied your face. “you know there are risks-“

you cut him off. “yes, sir. i know that. i know that every time he flies in that plane he may not come back.”

the admiral mask fell from his face. working with your father, admiral simpson has its ups and downs. throw in you dating one of his subordinates. then have that subordinate bc roughly the same age as your dad.

yeah.

“y/n. now answer the question as my daughter.”

your mask slipped as well. “i’ll be fine, dad. promise. mav is a hell of a pilot.”

“dagger one is hit. i repeat, dagger one is hit!”

the words you’ve been praying to avoid echo in your ears. your boyfriend is flying dagger one.

you struggle not to look over your shoulder at your father, not wanting to give him any reason to regret allowing you to work the control room for this mission.

“asking permission to launch search and rescue,” hangman comes over the coms.

“negative,” your father says.

that does it. you spin around in your chair, ignoring hangman who is waiting on you to relay the admiral’s answer.

“sir?” he calls again.

your eyes hold your father’s, matching in color and glare. “dad,” you squeak out.

“he’s waiting on the answer, captain.” his admiral mask is firm, unwavering.

“we can’t leave him out there,” you press. hondo meets your eyes, the same sadness holding there.

“there is nothing we can do for maverick. not in a damn f-18.” the words spear through your heart.

you’re not an idiot. you know he’s right. that's been the whole point of the extensive training, the enemies superoir aircraft.

“negative, spare,” you relay.

your heart grows heavier in your chest as the seconds go by. your concentration ebbs and flows from the monitor. the dots of the other daggers get closer to the boat.

natasha and bob.

coyote and fanboy.

rooster.

not maverick.

the sounds of the control room go silent, replaced by a high pitched whine. water drips onto your keyboard. is the roof leaking?

it takes a second to realize those are your tears.

you launch your headphones toward the monitor and slide back from the desk. you can't take it.

you can't take it.

"captain simpson!" your fathers calls. his booming voice is enough to get you to stop for a millisecond. "do not walk out that door."

ignoring him, you run out into the hallway, hondo on your tail.

his burly arms wrap around you from behind. the action makes the tears fall from your eyes without abandon.

"i know," he murmurs above your ear. "i know."

mav tried to tell you goodbye before he left and you wouldn't let him.

"hondo! simpson! get back in here. rooster turned around and was shot down!" warlock orders.

damn it, rooster.

slipping back into the control room, you expertly avoid your father’s heavy gaze. it’s like the two of you have time-traveled back to your high school days, and he got a call from the school about your excessive talking.

the two of you being cut from the same cloth makes working together tooonns of fun.

swiping away stray tears, you get to work.

“sir, rooster’s radio just turned back on. but he’s supersonic,” the controller next to you says. you peer over at his monitor. sure enough, the rooster dot is moving at a steady pace.

your gaze finds the admiral’s. “maverick,” he says.

your heart swells at the thought of maverick still being alive.

“they’ve got bandits on them,” you say.

“send out spare one,” your father tells you.

com-ing over to hangman, he’s up in the air in no time.

waiting for mav and rooster to make it back to the boat felt like eons. as they approached, everyone left the control room to meet them on deck.

you follow warlock and your dad up to the tower.

as your stare out over the water, trying to spot the place your boyfriend’s in, your dad’s voice fills the air.

“i hope you understand my call,” he says.

holding your gaze over the water, you want to pick a fight. you want to scream and argue. you want him to feel the heartbreak you felt in that moment.

the moment he didn’t allow hangman to go over mav.

but you understood.

you truly did. of course losing one pilot was better than two. the thought makes you want to throw up.

“i do. i told you i could handle the mission,” you reply, your back still turned.

his hand comes up to your shoulder, lightly squeezing, the admiral mask slipping.

you turn, knowing you’ll get your dad and not your admiral. once your eyes meet, the tears fall from your eyes.

“i was so scared,” you say into his chest. cyclone pulls you tight against him, a dad holding his girl tight.

your sobs subside when warlock points towards the distance. “thank God, there they are.”

cyclone slips back into admiral mode right as maverick buzzes the tower. the three of you are jostled at the sound and speed of it.

your father cocks an eyebrow at you. seriously, this is who you want to be with?

all you can do is offer him a grin before running from the tower.

on deck, maverick and rooster accept hugs and slaps on the back. maverick gives everyone a polite acknowledgment, his head craning for someone.

for you.

once he sees you, relief floods his face. “oh, baby,” he says, that relief palpable in his voice. he grabs you, pulling you into him, one hand in your hair, the other around your waist.

again, you don’t bother hiding the tears. he pulls back, his thumbs running across your cheeks. “i’m here. i’m here. i’m okay.”

your hands run over his body, checking for injuries. any scratches to his perfect self.

“talk to me, simpson,” he says, his voice wary.

it’s like you’ve forgotten how to speak with the flood of emotions. instead, you pull him down to you, enveloping his mouth with a kiss.

a kiss you were afraid you’d never be able to give him.

maverick rests his forehead against yours, “i was so worried about you.”

“me?” finally finding your voice. “i was worried about you.”

“haven’t i told you not to worry about me? i’m the best pilot in the navy,” he smirks. you playfully shove him back, letting hondo greet his friend.

the two men wrap each other in a tight embrace. maverick pulls back first, glancing up to the tower. warlock pumps his fist and your father nods his reluctant approval.

#top gun maverick #top gun #top gun maverick fic #pete mitchell x you #pete mitchell x y/n #pete mitchell x reader #pete mitchell imagine #pete maverick mitchell #pete mitchell #maverick x y/n #maverick x you #maverick fanfic #maverick x reader #maverick imagine

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spinningwebsandtales · 10 months ago

Text

Imagine Arthur Playing With Your Son In The Bath

Arthur Curry X FemReader

Rating: T

Warnings: Suggestive themes, stress, and an obscene amount of fluff

Word Count: 984

(A/N:) I found this gif and it inspired me so fast! XD I was actually looking for something else for a different imagine when I came across it. I couldn't leave without writing something for it and this is the end result! I wrote for Orm and since Arthur is a freaking aquababe I have to write for him too! Hopefully my fellow fangirls enjoy it as much as I did writing it! Until next time happy reading! ~Countess

Being married to the King of Atlantis had it's perks, but it also had it's rough patches. Being so called Queen of a world you never even got to visit had it's pressures. Arthur never told you the horrible things the council would say about you, but you had a good idea of the prejudices they held. Tom was a good confidant and helped you talk about things that bothered you. Arthur had enough on his plate and now with you both producing a heir to the throne, the pressure only increased. Tom was out running errands for you while you stayed at home with Arthur Curry Jr who refused to do anything but eat and cry. It didn't matter how many times you tried, he refused to go to sleep. He was due for a much needed nap and so did you, but the baby universe decided that just wasn't in the cards today. Now as night drew nearer and you being soaked in spit up, drool, and various other baby fluids Arthur finally made it home.

"Sorry I saw dad in town and we stopped for a quick beer," Arthur apologized before brushing strands of your hair to kiss your cheek.

He looked around the little home you both shared with his father. Toys littering the floor and dirty dishes piled up in the sink. His eyebrow raised before leaning his trident against the wall. He knelt down to get eye level with you as you rocked back and forth on the couch trying to keep Jr from crying.

"Rough day," he asked gently.

The strong facade that you worked hard to keep up all day crumbled a little, as your bottom lip began to wobble. Arthur cursed taking you into a hug and trying his best not to squish his son against his giant chest. You let yourself have a few moments of just letting your emotions out before you pulled away. Wiping at your eyes and taking a deep breath.

"That's my girl," Arthur grinned. He took Jr from your arms. "Go take a shower a long one. My son and I are going to have some bonding time with a bubble bath and some rubber duckies. I'll call Pops too, have him bring pizza home for us. Then we'll watch that movie you love and makes me gag. Deal?"

You laughed, this time kissing his cheek, "Sounds wonderful!"

Arthur helped you up from the couch, kissing you deeply and giving you a pat on your rear as you walked to the bathroom. Arthur watched you go before turning to the baby in his arms.

"We'll borrow Grandpop's bathroom so your mom has some much needed quiet time."

Jr gurgled in reply. Arthur nodded in agreement, "Totally. Your mom is a hero. And hot."

Jr just stared and Arthur shrugged.

The hot water was washing away all the day's filth and the stress from your body. Though it was rough at times, raising the future king of Atlantis and being human, you wouldn't trade one moment. Your son was precious. Arthur was a wonderful partner in everything. A doting husband and a loving father. Even your father-in-law amazed you as he was such a help. You couldn't fault him for needing a quiet moment in town. He hadn't given one complaint since you and Arthur still lived with him and birthed the next generation of Curry.

Finished with your nice hot shower, you dressed in one of Arthur's oversized shirts and your favorite pair of leggings. Your slippers silenced your steps and it was easy to hear Jr's squealing giggles and Arthur's laughter follow behind. It brought a smile to your face despite the exhaustion. Opening the door you spied Jr in a little floatie designed for his baths and Arthur bare chested covered in an obnoxious amount of suds.

"Are my boys having fun," you asked.

"Bubbles," Arthur roared animatedly causing Jr to squeal. Water sloshed and bubbles flew everywhere and you couldn't bring yourself to worry about the mess.

Carefully sitting yourself close to the tub and avoiding the numerous puddles on the floor, you stroked Arthur's bare chest, tracing the tattoo patterns. He dutifully scrubbed his son's dirty face before leaning back against the cool tub wall.

"Careful where you touch, or we'll grant Pop's wish early," Arthur warned.

"One's enough for right now," you replied still tracing absentmindedly.

"More than enough. You look like you went to war with an army of babies."

"And here I thought baby spit up was the new Gucci," you sighed.

Arthur tugged you a little closer, tickling your ear with his warm breath, "You did look pretty hot."

"Now who's trying to seduce who," you teased.

You helped Arthur finish up cleaning Jr and get him changed into warm pajamas when Tom finally made it back. Hauling in grocery bags and boxes of pizza, all of you were finally able to sit down together as a family. Arthur wouldn't let you get anything for yourself, so you sat on the couch holding Jr while Arthur made your plates. True to his word he started the movie you loved and he abhorred. Halfway through Jr had finally fallen to sleep and despite wanting to stay up and finish it, you found yourself nodding off too. Without a word Arthur put your son to bed before he scooped you up in his arms.

"Night Pops," he whispered and Tom nodded before turning off the movie and switching to the weather.

"Artie," you mumbled into his chest as he carried you to your shared room.

"Hmm?"

"Thank you," you yawned.

Arthur kissed your temple before depositing you onto the messy bed, "You're welcome."

He tucked you in before getting in himself and with the warm blankets and Arthur's body pressed against yours. You fell into peaceful slumber and all your worries melted away.

#Arthur Curry X Reader #Arthur Curry / Reader #Arthur Curry #Aquaman #Arthur Curry Imagine #Aquaman Imagine #DC Universe #Imagine #Not My Gif #My Writing

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weaverpop · 7 days ago

Note

Lotusnoodles ask

Have the two kissed yet? Or have they not gotten to that point yet? Seems like there taking there relationship kinda slow, just easing into the waters a bit at a time. So I wouldn't be surprised if they hadn't yet or waiting for a special moment

But if I may offer

Mk giving nezha random pecks every so often as part of his endless conquest to fluster his boyfriend.

And it catches him off guard every. Single. Time. Like it's been going on for almost months and he's still not catched on much to his embarrassment.

End of any conversation or hell in the middle of it

"W-what was that for!?"

Mk: no reason you just looked really cute~

He'll do it while he's talking to others, chatting with the gang, giving out orders the guards, discussing stuff with other gods, even in front his brothers and/or dad's.

Nezha about to leave anywhere, doesn't matter if it's for the day or just a few minutes. Mk will make sure he leaves with his face as red as his beloved strawberries.

Mk: wait! Nezha you forgot something important!

Nezha: Really?? What? I was sure I had ever-

Mk quickly leans in and smooches him, not on the lips but fairly close to his mouth: I love you 😘

I'm sure nezha would try to get him back but like flirting mk pulls an uno reverse on him Everytime.

AHHHH YES YES THIS! ☝️

They are absolutely taking things slow. Like, insanely slow. As slow as it took Jing and Yin (like parents like child 🤣)

(Cheek) Kissing is one of the things they start doing a bit after they start dating. Behind hand holding. OH the hand holding phase XD

But Mk just does not care! He’ll do it anywhere at anytime. Even in the middle of a spar or spat. He doesn’t care who’s around to see, nor does he care about Nezha’s reputation as a fierce warrior and stern leader.

“Face as red as his beloved strawberries”

Oh gods that is SO cute! I bet Mk will say that to his face too, just to fluster him further!

Nezha: (Holds out a strawberry) “Want one?”

Mk: “Your the only strawberry I want~.”

Nezha, immediantly red: “O-ok.”

And a flustered Nezha who can’t flirt to save his life 🤣

Oh, and remember the fic post about Mk slapping Nezha’s ass after a battle? Yeah he does that all the damn time now. Poor Nezha, imagine the embarrassment of your partner slapping your ass on front of your army. 😂

#lego monkie kid #lmk aus #lmk au #lmk li jing #lionsword #lmk nezha #lego monkie kid au #lmk #lotusnoodleshipping #lotusnoodles #ask rec #asks open #anon ask #lmk mk

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slashingdisneypasta · 6 months ago

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Jim Bickerman x Fem!Reader || (Long) Imagine

Plot: You were lost in the woods, you almost died- but a nice man with an eyepatch saved you ^^

Warnings: Y/N kinda trauma bonding to Jim. Jim kinda abducting Y/N. Allusions to a pretty large age difference. I told y'all I wanted to write him worse XD Written on my phone+unedited.

Imagine being lost in the woods for a week, holding onto the brink of life, when you're found by a random poacher. You're terrified and deprived (of food, water, sleep, heat- everything), and he wasn't even looking for you, and the police you talk to seem all-too-familiar with him, but when he takes you to the sheriff's office you don't want him to leave you there. No. Please. Your eyes fill up with tears as you hold onto his arm, abandoning the hot coffee a deputy handed you and almost letting the wool blanket slip from your shoulders. "P- please stay with m- me. I dont know anyone."

"Y'dont know him, either." The Sheriff mutters, rolling her eyes but- trying, in some way, to remain compassionate.

The man - he told you his name was Jim, and you could call him Jimmy. He was nice. Well, you thought he was nice. He saved you, you felt safe with him, - looked unsure, eye flickering between your wide pleading eyes to the Sheriff with her eyebrow raised at him; waiting expectantly for a responce. A nervous smile washes over his face. "I mean, uh- who am I t' turn down a pretty girl in distress, huh?"

"For god's sake." The Sheriff shakes her head, leaving to make some calls, muttering. "Y'know the world's gone nuts when Jimmy Bickerman saves the day. Yeesh."

The entire time you're at the station waiting for someone who knows you to come, your mum or your dad or a friend- maybe a boyfriend? (You don't know. You hit your head, and you don't remember much) you stick right by Jim like a baby duck. You start to feel terrible anxiety fill you up whenever he leaves.

He doesn't leave you much, though, taking responsibility for you almost as soon as you flashed those teary eyes at him and begged for him to stay with you. He kept close tabs on you, making sure you were warm enough now and getting you something to drink if he thought you weren't (slipping a little Something in it to make you feel even warmer. It was his special stuff, he told you with a wink. You werent sure if alcahol was the best cure for you, right now, but you drank it anyway- it felt good. It warmed you up from the inside out), he bugged Sheriff Reba to order you food from the diner when you finally started to feel hungry again and eating with you so you didn't feel awkward being watched like a feral forest person (it was kindof like a date, you thought, as your senses were beginning to return to you. He flirted with you a little bit, but it just made you feel nice and normal), he talked with you to distract you...

When you started to remember things, why you were in the forest and who you were and where you came from- it was because of him. He was talking to you about himself, and you were listening intently (He was nice, he was interesting, he was funny. You thought you would've liked him whether he found you in the woods almost dead or not) and slowly things started to come back to you. Jim encouraged you, and then made a crack at Reba about him doing her job better then she did. How she should hand over her badge.

She mentioned how if he ran this town then he'd probably try to enact a bi-weekly Purge night, but gave you a kind grin and said she'd call your parents. They'd come to get you. You seemed better but she still didn't like the idea of you driving home yourself. Or letting Jim take you home, either. God forbid.

At this point you were full, warm, and had changed into some spare clothes the Sheriff station kept on-hand. But you still felt... out-of-place. Nervous. Like you had changed from this experience and no one understood you- you were afraid your parents wouldn't be the same either. It was silly, but you felt like the only person who knew you now... was Jim.

You didn't want to leave him. You wanted to stay.

He saw the worried look on your face after Reba left to call your parents, and nudged you. "Hey. If I didn't know better missy I'd think you were sad, now."

"I... " You start, but can't find words, and frown. Yes, you felt better-- but the talking was still a struggle. It was hard to put all your thoughts in order. It was hard, it was frustrating.

"Y'dont wanna see your mom and dad?"

... you just shrug. Of course you do- don't you?

At least part of you does. The part from a week ago. The little girl in you that just wants to go home.

... but the more prominent part of you feels like running. Are they going to like you now?? The confused, scared, rougher version of you?? Would you see Jim again!??

The thought that you possibly wouldn't, that your parents would take you away without a second word to him aside from 'thanks', not taking his phone number or anything, sends a spark of panic through you. You could ask for it now-

"Um- " Turning to him, you earnestly held up your hand and pretend to write on it. "Do you- have- um, a phone number?"

He winces, and your heart plummets. He tells you he doesn't have a phone, and you think- that sounds right, from what you've learnt about him over the past day. He doesn't even have a permanent home at the moment, he's staying in a motel room above the bar in town. Damn.

Jim seems just as put-put out, but after a moment, he leans over to you with fresh excitement; a new idea. He pats your thigh. "Tell you what- how about you write down your home address; and I'll send ya letters. Maybe pay ya a visit sometime~ Hm?"

Immediately you wilt. "I- I don't remember it... "

"... right. Damn."

Sighing, you break your gaze away from him and look sadly down at your hands in your lap. "... I could... call the bar?... "

"Yeah sweetheart, you better." This time he puts his hand on your arm, and squeezes. You let out another sigh; he's touched you so much this whole time you're going to miss it so bad when you leave.

When you don't look any happier, more like a wet kitten than ever (and he found you covered in mud and scratches and leaves), he can't handle it. He hates it. Truth be told, he'd caught some kindof feelings for you over the last day. You weren't just his responsibility here; you were a cute, sweet little thing, and when you started remembering shit you turned out to be pretty damn funny. And real interesting.

-and fucking damn him to hell for noticing, but the soggy forest girl had a nice ass, too.

He did not want to part with you, either. He sure as hell didn't want you upset about nothin, either.

Not if he could do something about it.

"Y'know what?" He starts, getting one of those ideas that the town calls him nuts for, looking darkly in the direction that the Deputy is sitting in the room; cheerfully going over documents. Curious, you raise your gaze and look at him, waiting for 'what'. "If you don't wanna see yer parents- I mean- well," Another nervous smile flickers across his bearded face- but this time its got a hint wryness to it. Almost wicked. "I might have an idea."

"... what?" Nothing about the look on Jim's face or the menacing tone in his voice suddenly makes you weary. You're almost... excited. What's he thinking?? "Whats- what's your idea?"

He takes a deep breath, leaning so close you can feel his shoulders raise with it. "-well, my truck's in the lot still."

"Mhm... "

"I'm bettin' we can get there before your parents can get all the way here."

It takes a moment for the meaning behind his words to settle in your muddled brain- but when they do, your lips part in surprise. "You- you wanna take me home with you??"

"Uhuh." He finally looks at you again, your wide shocked eyes and cute nose and nice mouth. The dark fog in his eyes clears up by about half, looking at you. "If you wanna."

Before you even know what you're agreeing to you're nodding, getting up. "Yeah- I mean- yeah. Let's g- go."

A roguish grin slips across Jim's face from under his trucker hat.

"Thats my girl."

#grrrŕ this was supposed to be a quick concept!!!!#i need to stop with the jim stuff 😅 all of 5 people care about him 😅#Jim Bickerman x Reader #Jim Bickerman #Oneshot #Imagine

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maul-of-shame · 1 day ago

Note

Y'know as someone who enjoys haladriel (I go by a ship and let ship fandom philosophy), I actually want to see more elrond and galadriel in S3 over celeborn stuff for all the reasons you said. I very much enjoy their relationship and even though I personally don't ship it, I can def see why others so (even some of my mutuals do). I think Elrond is a very important figure in her life and he's like the voice of reason for her (and someone who can call out her bs, which we all need a friend who can do that). Celeborn meanwhile is so forgettable like... you could literally replace him with Elrond in all the times in he's by Galadriel's side and the story wouldn't change a bit.

Absolutely, 100%! At this point, it feels like the only reason people rally behind Celeborn is that they’re desperate to block Elrond from getting a second of meaningful connection with Galadriel. [TW: If you love Celeborn, do NOT read this XD]

Let’s face it: Celeborn doesn’t bring anything to the table that Elrond couldn’t absolutely nail, but Elrond does it all while actually being interesting, loyal, and having a deep, established history with her that has real weight.

It’s not like Celeborn fans are rallying because of some profound connection they feel with his character—they’re just terrified of seeing Elrond actually shine beside Galadriel because he makes Celeborn look like the damp leaf that he is.

Seriously, tell me what Celeborn can do that Elrond can’t.

He barely manages to bring any wisdom or agency in the rare moments he’s mentioned, and honestly, his absence has probably improved Galadriel’s life tenfold.

There’s a reason people resonate with Elrond—he’s multifaceted, complex, and, as you said, someone who can call Galadriel out and be her rock when she needs it. He’s the only character who can match her fire without trying to snuff it out. Meanwhile, Celeborn just… shows up, questions her judgment, and then disappears, leaving the real work to others.

So far, the only reasons I see Celeborn and Celebrian coming up boil down to a few tired (and honestly, pretty telling) things. Let’s break it down:

First, we’ve got the Lore Dudebros™. Oh, you know the type—clutching their well-worn copies of The Silmarillion like it's some kind of ancient shield, warding off the “heresy” of fresh character dynamics. They’re practically waving family trees like battle standards, ready to duel anyone who even hints at diverging from their sacred canon. You can practically hear them whispering, “One Book to Rule Them All,” while setting up symbolic pyres for every fan who dares to ship Elrond and Galadriel or even breathe an alternative take. I’m honestly shocked I haven’t been ceremonially tossed onto one of those pyres yet, chanting “I love Elrondriel” on my way down. XDDDD To these “guardians of canon,” the thought of Galadriel connecting deeply with someone like Elrond is a personal affront. It’s as if adding emotional depth or—heaven forbid—a dynamic character relationship threatens the very foundation of Middle-earth itself. And don’t even try bringing up things like story evolution, emotional nuance, or character growth; to them, that’s the real fantasy. Just a hint of Galadriel leaning on Elrond as a trusted confidant, and they’re already rallying their trivia and pulling out genealogy charts, like those are somehow the One Ring in disguise. And here’s the best part: they’re completely blind to their own irony, hailing Celeborn as some untouchable canon figure without realizing the guy’s basically a background character who could be swapped out with a block of wood for all the impact he had in the bigger story!

Then, we have the “Bring Back Celeborn” brigade—desperately wanting to shoo Elrond off stage so that Celeborn, the long-lost, mysteriously absentee dad with all the romantic appeal of a soggy crumpet, can swoop in and… do what, exactly? Serve as the poster child for “How Not to Be There for Your Partner”? Apparently, they think it’s 'far more romantic' for Galadriel to stay hung up on this MIA forest ghost who bailed during her darkest hours, rather than, you know, actually building a life with someone like Elrond who’s been with her through it all. Because what could be better than pining after a wet leaf who couldn’t bother to send a postcard while she wrestled with, oh, just a dark lord or two? And they really think Galadriel would drop Elrond—a friend who knows her down to the marrow of her bones, who sees her strength and holds her accountable, who supports her without needing a treasure map to find her—just to welcome back some dude who ghosted her at the height of Middle-earth’s crisis. Yep, nothing says “power couple” quite like reuniting with the guy who looked at Khazad-dûm and decided, “Nah, too many dwarves, I’m out,” leaving Galadriel to face down the legions of darkness by herself while he took a scenic detour… for, what, a century or two? The logic here really stretches all the way to Mordor, doesn’t it? Because in their minds, it’s somehow unthinkable that Galadriel could find genuine love and companionship in Elrond—who’s basically risked life and limb for her—over some guy who literally peaced out and left her to fight Sauron solo. Nope, much more romantic to keep Galadriel anchored to some absentee figure whose greatest accomplishment was not showing up when she needed him most.

Then there’s the crowd who just can’t stand the idea of Galadriel with Elrond, so they roll out Celebrian as a glorified self-insert. The narrative goes, “Why should Galadriel, this powerhouse of a character, fall for Elrond when there’s a mythical ‘perfect daughter’ we can project onto instead?” Celebrian, in their heads, isn’t really a character with her own story, she’s a convenient placeholder to push Elrond into a neat little box. They just don’t want to face the fact that Elrond might actually be a better match for Galadriel than their ship preference. It’s less about Celebrian as a character and more about using her to gatekeep a relationship that makes sense, so long as she exists somewhere in the background.

And finally, we have the folks who are just flat-out romance haters and don’t want any love in LOTR—especially one that challenges their preconceived ideas. These are the “LOTR is sacred, no love allowed” types, wielding their disdain like some sacred relic. Meanwhile, they conveniently overlook that Tolkien did write love stories, and powerful ones at that! But if it means Galadriel might actually have a meaningful, respectful connection with Elrond? Nope. Suddenly, love is “too sappy for Middle-earth.” It’s the same group that’d probably claim Arwen and Aragorn’s love story is a sellout move just because it’s… well, happy.

And let’s be honest—when we’re told to “respect the canon,” what we’re really hearing is “Don’t mess with our Middle-earth nostalgia or I’ll lose my elvish marbles faster than a hobbit at an all-you-can-eat buffet.” But what they’re really scared of isn’t losing lore: it’s seeing Galadriel with someone who doesn’t disappear every other century.

They’re clutching so hard to the paper-thin defenses of Celeborn’s legacy that they miss what’s right in front of them—a chance for Galadriel to choose a partner who genuinely sees her as an equal. So if they want their wet leaf of a Celeborn back, fine—but don’t expect me to buy that he’s even remotely on Elrond’s level.

It’s honestly pretty sad.

They’re out here on their soapboxes screaming “People can’t do media literacy,” “They don’t understand the lore,” and the classic, “Respect Tolkien’s vision,” when, in reality, their motivations are paper-thin. Because let’s face it—they don’t actually care about Celeborn or Celebrian as characters.

They’re not out here writing essays on Celebrian’s personality or championing what a pillar of support Celeborn has been to Galadriel. No, they’re just using those names as a smokescreen to push one single agenda: they don’t want Galadriel and Elrond to love each other. That’s it. If it was about “lore” or “accuracy,” they’d be just as invested in seeing every other Tolkien character get the same respect. But they’re not.

Hell, they’d probably be fine with anyone having a shot at Elrond or Galadriel if it meant the two of them wouldn’t end up together.

You know who this reminds me of? General Hux in Star Wars here:

They don't care if ANY other ship involving Galadriel or Elrond wins, they just want Elrondriel to lose.

At the end of the day, it’s not about who does love Galadriel or who does support Elrond—it’s only about who doesn’t.

And let’s talk about the timeline chaos that bringing in Celeborn and Celebrian would actually cause.

First off, throwing Celeborn into the mix now would disrupt everything we’ve seen develop between Elrond and Galadriel, both story-wise and emotionally. We’ve watched Galadriel stand strong alone, finding strength and grounding in her friendship with Elrond. To wedge Celeborn back in just because “that’s canon” would feel like a massive betrayal of the story’s arc and their growth. And then there’s the whole Celebrian issue.

Are we really supposed to stomach the idea that this child of Galadriel and her current best friend is going to grow up to be Elrond’s love interest?

Are we actually expected to believe that Galadriel, who has forged this deeply supportive, intensely mutual relationship with Elrond, would happily match her child up with him years down the line? The absurdity is off the charts! It’s the kind of mental gymnastics that they accuse us of doing.

And yet somehow we’re the “crazy ones” for seeing the potential of Elrondriel.

Their double standards are as obvious as they are exhausting. If we’re talking about “respecting canon,” maybe we should start with some basic, human decency and storytelling consistency. Celeborn’s entire role in the story (such as it was) has been more symbolic than substantial, and Celebrian is a character who, while lovely in her own right, hasn’t exactly been set up with the same depth or weight. The thing they won’t admit is that Celeborn and Celebrian are just names to them—a means to an end to keep Elrond and Galadriel at a distance.

Because deep down, they’re not defending characters; they’re defending the status quo of Middle-earth, a world where relationships stay unchallenged, dynamics stay platonic, and emotions stay buried beneath layers of “lore.”

And they wonder why we’re still rooting for Galadriel and Elrond, who have actually been through it all together. Who have a relationship built on the kind of trust, support, and shared history that could naturally turn into something more. But no, according to them, if we care about that, we’re “missing the point” and “don’t understand.”

They’re the ones clinging to a “canon” that doesn’t actually serve the story or the characters.

If we’re calling out inconsistencies and advocating for a nuanced, rich character connection, then maybe it’s they who need to revisit Tolkien’s work with a bit more care, because their one-note obsession with gatekeeping doesn’t do justice to the world or its potential.

#elrondriel #galadriel #elrond x galadriel #galadriel x elrond #the rings of power #trop #rings of power #trop season 2 #now i need a coffee it's too early for this LMAO

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thehollowwriter · 3 months ago

Note

🌪️, 🚊 and 😨 for any you personally wanna answer them for

💓 for Finn

☁️, 💚 for Blaze?

And oh oh actually, if you'd take questions for your non-NRC OCs:

🌟 and 🌈 for Silas and Morrigan?

Thanks, Moony! 😅 not sure what that second one is? Also I ABSOLUTELY take for my non-NRC ocs, ask away!

🌪️ TORNADO - what is the biggest change you've ever made to them? how have they changed from their original version?

Finn's entire personality and design is a huge ass change. He was originally very mousy and easily startled. And also thin as a stick XD his hair and eyes were completely different too. He's soft-spoken but very confident and straightforward now, and ofc he's got his current design. ...Which I'm updating again, btw XD. He's got Silas' swirly black markings on his arms, back and torso now.

Silas was originally just a vague concept, someone who I mentioned from time to time for Finn stuff. He was just "Papa Clearcove", he was Finn's mysterious dad, and that was about it.

😨 FEARFUL - when scared, do they go into "flight" or "fight"?

Silas goes into fight, considering the fact that it takes a lot to scare him. He will however, go for flight if the threat is bigger than he he can take on. Morrigan is also fight.

Blaze, Finn, and Clyde are all flight XD

💓 BEATING HEART - what gets their heart racing?

P.E/j

In a romantic sense? Just being his partner and loving him always does it. Say something flirty or give him a gift or some affection, even if you don't see it on his face, his heart is running a marathon. Also. Pretty guys. He gets flustered though he gets over it after a while XD

☁️ CLOUD - a soft headcanon

His experience with cooking for himself has him cooking for his friends, too. He'll give them something like biscuits, but he'll act huffy about it. (Also he likes looking for shapes in clouds *ahem*)

💚 GREEN HEART - what things make your oc feel comforted? hugs, kisses, food?

Food. Touch makes him uncomfortable or afraid, and food makes him incredibly happy, so giving him something to snack on when he's upset or mad is actually pretty nice for him.

🌟 GLOWING STAR - what do they think about when they look at the night sky? is there someone they want to star gaze with?

Morrigan thinks two things: 1, wow that's so pretty, and 2: I wonder if someone up there shared cosmic magic with us. Cosmic magic as a concept has been wild to him from the start since it feels like it's something that shouldn't be attainable? He doesn't really know how to explain it, but it's so powerful and otherworldly that it's mesmerising for him every time he uses it. He'd happily stargaze with Ezra, Alastair or Silas :)

Silas finds it beautiful as well, but he can never stop thinking about how vast and infinite it is, and how oddly happy it makes him feel? Silas doesn't like small, tight, spaces and though the Abyss is huge it still felt small due to how empty and void it was. The sky is filled with stars and looking at it makes him feel hopeful. Stargazing would be a more special moment for him, so he'd prefer to do it alone, but he wouldn't mind sharing with Finn or Morrigan

🌈 RAINBOW - what advice would they give to their younger self?

Answered for Silas here!

Morrigan... hmm. He'd probably tell his younger self that everything's gonna be OK, eventually. He gets out, he finds someone, he's happy. Redirect your anger, don't put so much energy into being a chaotic rule breaker because you feel your future isn't your own once you leave NRC, that's not true. It's something younger Morrigan would have really benefitted from hearing.

Tagging: @distant-velleity @br3adtoasty @rainesol @theleechyskrunkly @jovieinramshackle

@galaxies-and-gore @cyanide-latte @cynthinesia @officialdaydreamer00 @krenenbaker

@offorestsongs @kitwasnothere @elenauaurs @boopshoops @inotonline

@1dont-really-know @kazumify @minteasketches @elysia-nsimp @skrimpyskimpy

@casp1an-sea @offorestsongs @tixdixl @poisoned-pearls @the-trinket-witch

@ramshacklerumble @ghostiidasponk @thegoldencontracts @the-banana-0verlord @cloudcountry

@skriblee-ksk @twstinginthewind @lumdays @theolivetree123 @natsukishinomiyaswife

@authoruio @jewelulu @raguiras @honeynclove @moonyasnow

#quinn quips #quinn answers #quinn's friends #moony #blaze dugal #savanaclaw #finn clearcove #octavinelle #clyde sentry #ignihyde #silas clearcove #morrigan clearcove #twisted wonderland #twst oc #oc ask #oc ask game

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hunniegl4zed · 15 days ago

Note

Kinda early thing to talk about, but, how do you see Sonic characters spending their time on Christmas (Or just winter in general)? 👀❄️

Nazo and Seelk would travel to a far off place. They build a small cabin over there and just spend the cold wonter-days snowed in together. No phones, no others being there to interrupt them. Just the two of them, spending much needed quality time together 🫂🩵💙🖤

Sonic and Shads would be spending Christmas/winter at home. As much as they want to leave the home, it's a little hard to get away. When it's Christmas, they do make a trip to the field of flowers from Dark beginnings, although it's now covered in snow. The tree that stands there would be replaced with a new one and they could decorate it, in remembrance of Shad's lost family.

Scourge would be celebrating Christmas as how he always had, getting shit-faced with Mayhem while going from bar to bar. And maybe this year, he won't be going home alone, but Mighty could join him to "take of of him when hes going to sleep"~

Eventhough Vile was busy babysitting Patch, she still has to go get Mayhem, who's fallen face first into the big Christmas tree in the town centre, too hammered/too high to being able to go home. Always embarrassing her as the "proud dad" he is.

Mephiles and Infinite would enjoy each ithers company as well. Going on walks in nature or being at home reading. They wouldn't decorate their house that much, but having each other is good enough for them.

Knuckles and Rouge would travel to a more warmer destination. If Knuckles is able to leave. Otherwise Rouge would be over at his place

Vex and Vanilla would through a little Christmas party. Cream, Tails, Amy, Silver, Blaze and the chaotix would be attending the party. Surge and Aneon would try to crash the party xD

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midlandslady · 4 months ago

Text

On Daemon Targaryen Flaws

I know I have a love for Daemon that will probably be rivaled only by Matt Smith XD But people see him as a monster and I think we are watching different shows. Come on guys, all of his emotions are written in his face because Matt is such a great actor.

I try not to justify all of his crimes. But if I want to, I actually think I can.

"Heir for a day". I do not believe he said it! He never confirmed it, not even in this episode. Yes, it was a mistake to cheer the fact that he was restored as heir to the people who would stab him in the back. But he was sad! Come on, he was in his own corner of the bar, quietly drinking and looking forlorn. The people instigated him and him being young and with a huge ego felt like he had to indulge them. That doesn't mean he was happy about what happened or that he wanted to celebrate the death of Aemma and the baby! People who think so do not understand Daemon at all.

Murdering Rhea. He does not feel guilty about it. He hated her. She was an obstacle for him. This is probably his biggest sin yet. But I don't think he went there to kill her. He had no weapons. I don't see the horse being spooked by him. And then she was paralyzed but she wouldn't die. She would still be his wife. And he was leaving. Until she said he "couldn't finish". This triggered violence in him. But it would also be cruel to let her live a life she didn't want to live, in pain and suffering. Was it mercy, or was it cold-blooded murder? Again, this scene is meant to leave it uncertain. But the law says innocent until proven guilty, does it not? It was not a good deed anyway.

Mistreating Mysaria and Laena. When?? Mysaria was a whore working in a brothel, like many others. She was Daemon's favorite so he took her away from that life to live with him in Dragonstone atop Caraxes. I don't see him doing it for people he is not incredibly fond of. She left him when she thought he was putting her at risk with his recklessness. And she didn't go back to being a whore because she now had enough money to start her own business. And she betrayed him, to his worst enemy, time and time again. We never know what she felt for Daemon but it looked like she was also fond of him because when he was drunk in the streets making a fool of himself after leaving Rhaenyra in the brothel, she took him to her place. So I understand she also cared about him to an extent. And when she was betrayed by Otto, where did she go? To Daemon. And Daemon would have killed someone else on the spot for much less than her betrayal. He didn't. Why? He is fond of her. He understands her life was not easy and she had to make due. He even offered her freedom in exchange for a small bit of information he could've acquired somewhere else. And Laena? Daemon loved Laena, he admired her and cared for her. She was not ït" for him, but he was happy with her, he was soft to her. If she hadn't died he would probably stay married to her forever. One might even say she was the only one able to tame his wildness. Something Rhaenyra is incapable of doing. Because he and Rhaenyra are both fire, they will never know peace or calm because that's not them. But Daemon is not to blame for not loving Laena as much as he does Rhaenyra. It's not something he can control. I think if he could, he would because loving Laena was easier and uncomplicated.

He is a bad father. I don't think anyone is winning Best Dad of the Year in Hotd, I'm sorry. Maybe Harwin? But yeah. I saw in an interview they placed Corlys as the best dad. Best dad?! Best husband maybe! But not the best dad, surely. He wanted to marry 12-year-old Laena to Viserys for his own ambitions for the crown (worse even than Otto because Laena was a child) and he was terribly ashamed of Laenor because of his homosexuality. Viserys was the best dad? To Rhaenyra maybe, not to the other kids that he ignored. But even then, if he wanted Rhaenyra to be queen he should not have had an army of male children that would fight against his daughter, should he? Daemon always loved Baela and he didn't feel as connected to Rhaena. It happens. He was still with Rhaena all the time while Baela went to live with Rhaenys. He may not be affectionate but he is there for them. Even for Jace, Luke and Joffrey. He fought for Luke's claim to Driftmark. And people keep saying he ignored Baela after he argued with Rhaenyra. Come on, I would too! The man was so broken he wasn't even seeing straight, I barely think he would acknowledge anyone at that moment.

He was violent to Rhaenyra, twice. I hate it, I do! But she was already pushing him away, trying to command him, show her authority over him, and that came after a lot of traumatic events. Daemon lashes out when he is cornered, challenged, or hurt. She brings out the very worst out of him and that's the insane part of their relationship. It's not healthy, it is primal, animalistic, and crazy! Alas, I don't support his behavior and I hope he will learn from it now.

He wants to usurp Rhaenyra's throne. He does not! He is hurt! He is letting his ego talk for him because he needs to feel that he is not "pathetic", he needs to feel respected and that he is worthy (while doing exactly what makes him not be haha). Because he wants to show it to Rhaenyra. Prove himself to her, as Alys pointed out. The throne means nothing to him, it's all about what the throne represents to the people he loves and from whom he craves validity. He wants to be loved so badly, yet he does not know how to show it and that is a tragedy in itself.

He killed a child. I will die defending Daemon on this point. Once again, the writers intend it to be open for interpretation. I don't think he even considered male children at all. He said so himself and he never tries to justify himself for what he is accused of. Usually, he is just hurt that people he cares for would think bad of him and he would not even make an effort to say otherwise. This time he did say "no and no and no, I didn't" because I think deep down the brutality of the act shocked him to the core too. And maybe he would try to ignore it and put it under the carpet as a mistake but the way Rhaenyra confronts him makes him hate himself.

Is there any other flaw of Daemon that should be explored?

#pro daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen #I love daemon and I am not afraid to defend him

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mgarmagedon · 1 year ago

Text

I made small one shot in English and Polish, ik kinda new thing for me but i hope you will like it XD

and in bonus here you go small art uwu

English:

This morning was like any other at what Danny called "place of collection antique", in other words on junkyard.

Forest that surrounded the junkyard buzzed with wild life. It was an aftermath of yesterday's evening downpour. Strong smell of fresh grass and leaves in the air.

Also, surprisingly, there weren't problems with the team. Grimlock wasn't doing anything wrong with local animals, Strongarm has not fixate on anything new yet, Drift was just quietly meditating with Jetstorm and Slipstream and Sideswipe... he was just resting after his night patrol.

"Better Saturday morning couldn't be possible to imagine!"- thought Bee, while sitting on reclining garden chair, in his blue bathrobe, reading a newspaper in peace and drinking coffee.

Bee noticed that Russell was staring at him surreptitiously from behind the metal junk. The boy looked like he suddenly was having an internal conflict, to approach him and talk. Be sighed loudly at this sight.

"Russell... you know that I can see you from there, right?" he turns his head towards him, placing his newspaper on the table.

Russell didn't expect to be seen in his hiding spot, but how he finally found some courage, and went to him.

"Hey Bumblebee, sorry for that...! I didn't mean to make it so weird... and because Sideswipe isn't available now, neither Strongarm... nor anyone else, so I thought that talking to you would be alright. That is why..." the boy was looking at the ground and playing with his fingers, it felt so awkward to want to talk with Bee about this, after all, at this point he was like his second father.

"Why is that so?"

"I know, that as a cybetronians you make children in a different way than we do and that you have two fathers- Optimus and Ratich-"

"Ratchet"

" Yes, him..." Russell leaned against the wooden table, where Bee's coffee sat. The boy took several deep breaths before continuing again. "But did you have a mom Bee?"

"A mom? Why do you ask"- Be was quite surprised with this sudden question. He didn't even know what he should tell him, the closest thing he had to a mom was Ratchet.

"It's not big deal, I'm just having weird thoughts lately." He immediately turned his head away so he wouldn't have to look into Bee's eyes.

"You know..." Bumblebee paused for a moment to think carefully about what he's should say." Do you want to tell me about those thoughts? I promise I won't tell your dad, this talk will be our secret." he smiled at Russell and the boy quickly turned back to Bee.

He instantly felt ashamed when he looked at Bee's face.

"Come here now." Bee pointed at his knee.

He sat on Bee's knee. It was a quite odd situation to him especially after he stopped getting close to him (at least for 5 meters), when he noticed that Bee smells like a den.

"Bee, do you know why I live on this musty dumb junkyard with only my dad, far away from my friends and any civilization?"

"Actually..." Bee scratched his head." I never thought about it. I thought it's quite a normal situation... but when you put it like that... sound weird.

"My mom left for a sake of a new job and... her new family in Demark. Leaving me and forcing me to move here when she wanted to start her new life all over again... She left my dad first and then me...! What have we done to make her choose her new life over us?! She doesn't even want to talk with me anymore! Do you know when was the last time we spoke? One week before your arrival on Earth! It was over a year ago...!" he fell silent for a moment and wiped his watery eyes with his sleeve." Why doesn't she love me anymore...?" He whispered.

Bumblebee hugged Russell, fully understanding his feelings and fear. The boy was still for a moment, but gently returned Bee's hug after getting used to it.

Bee ran out of ideas on what to tell him, he didn't even know what to think about it.

"It's... not that easy to say whether that she loves you or not..."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that when you are an adult sometimes you are make very stupid and horrible decisions, while thinking that is only way to make you happy again... and later, you pay for years caused by the consequences of your own actions. Trust me, I know a thing or two about it."

"But unlike her, you were really hurt and you changed, you are trying to make everything good once again! She just dropped everything and disappeared from my life in one day." Russell began to gesticulate." One day you just can't handle your own life and..." he stopped for a moment and thought about what he just said.

"Sounds pretty similar to me, huh?" he smiled softly at Russell, who, embarrassed, quickly shifted his gaze to something else.

"It's still not the same... You didn't make any commitments you couldn't meet and you were younger than her."

"Unfortunately for me, the same can't be said about my biological mothers, Rusty."

"Mothers?" he was quite stunned by this news." From what Strongarm told me about you... you only had two fathers and an older sister."

"Two adoptive fathers, that's an important detail." he emphasized." Can you wait here forna moment?"

Bee took Russell off his lap, then quickly finished his coffee and walked towards the Alchemor. The boy just sank into a chair and waited for Bee, staring at the ground and thinking about this situation.

After several minutes, Became back, wearing his normal clothes and took a second chair with him. He put it next to Russell, then took out his black leather wallet from his jeans and from one of the tiny pockets it he pulled out an old, slightly yellowed photo. He gave it photo to him.

"Look." he said."

On the photo were two women in suits, a young girl in a nice looking blue dress and an even younger boy who have yellow dungarees and pacifier in his mouth.

"This photo was taken a week before my mothers gave me and Arcee to Optimus and Ratchet."

The boy was quite bewildered by it all.

"Why had they given you away..? You looked so happy together! Even with war happening. "

Bee sat down next to Rusty on the chair he brought before.

"From what Ratchet told me, they couldn't stand the pressure and under the pretext that our city was in flames they gave us away." he sighed."... and they fled to the other end of galaxy and no one has ever heard of them again."

"Oh... that sucks"

"Yeah, I know! Because of that I had many thoughts about it! I thought I will go crazy! Usually they were like; "what have we do to you?", "were we so useless to you?", "why didn't you love us?"... and I've had them over and over again since i was really a little boy. And then Tygerpax happened..."

"Tygerpax?"

"The place on cybertron... where Megatron killed one of the very important autobots- Jetfire and almost mortally wounded me and took my ability to speak for many years..." he gently ran his fingers over the wound on his neck. He stayed silent for a moment, then quickly cleared his throat seeing the worried look no the boy's face." Anyway! I stopped having these thoughts aftter that day, you know why?"

Russell listened in silence. Then Bee took the photo back and gave him another one. On it, his teenager self and with him were Optimus, Arcee, Bulkhead and Ratchet.

"Because I had a new family already that I could worry about. Of course in the beginning it was only me and my dads, but with time our family started growing! Heck, even Arcee came back after she ran away from the main autobots camp to work on her own. It gave me the illusion of normality at least... I just... I just want to tell you that you shouldn't care about people who abandoned you, if they really care, then maybe one day they will come back to you... Maybe even I will one day have enough strength to come back to my family.

Russell stand quietly, staring at the photography. He felt lost, but at the same time he was very reassured by what Bumblebee had just told him. He took a quiet but deep breath.

"Bee...?" he whispered.

"Yeah Rusty?"

"Let's take a photo too."

edited by @williamtrasheater

Polish:

Poranek był jak każdy inny, na jak to nazywał Danny- "miejscem kolekcji antyków", innymi słowy na wysypisku śmieci.

- Bee, do you know why I live on this musty dumb with only my dad, far away from my friends and any civilization?

- It's... not that easy to say, that she loves you or not...

Las otaczający wysypisko szumiał pełnią życia, przez wczorajszą ulewę, silny zapach trawy unosił się w powietrzu.

- Actually...- he scratched his head.- I never thought about it. I thought it's quite normal situation... but when you put it like that, it sounds weird.

Bee ran out of words how to answer him, he didn't even know what to think about it.

Również, o dziwo, nie było żadnego problemu z drużyną. Grimlock nie dręczył lokalnych zwierząt, Strongarm nie miała kolejnego ataku obsesji na dany temat, Drift w ciszy jedynie medytował z Jetstormem i Slipstreamem, a Siedeswipe... on po prostu odsypiał nocny patrol.

"Lepszego sobotniego poranka nie da się sobie wymarzyć!"- pomyślał Bumblebee, siedząc na rozkładanym ogrodowym krześle, w niebieskim szlafroku, czytając w ciszy gazetę i popijający kawę.

Bee szybko zauważył że Russell, patrzył się na niego z ukradkiem. Chłopak wyglądał jakby sam się ze sobą kłócił wewnętrznie, by podejść do mężczyzny i zagadać. Na ten widok Bee głośno westchnął.

- Russell... wiesz, że cię stąd widzę, prawda?- obrócił głowę w jego stronę, kładąc gazetę na stolik.

Chłopak nie spodziewał się, że mężczyzna go zauważy, ale dzięki temu, wziął się w garść i poszedł do niego.

- Hej Bumblebee, sory za to... heh! Nie chciałem żeby to tak wyglądało tak dziwnie... a bo nie ma Sideswipa, Strongarm... ani nikogo innego wolnego, zostałeś mi tylko ty...! Dlatego...- chłopak miał wbity wzrok w ziemie oraz bawił się własnymi palcami, czuł się bardzo niezręcznie przez potrzebę porozmawiania z Bumblebee, w końcu, w tym momencie był jak jego drugi ojciec.

- "Dlatego"?

- Ja wiem, że... że jako cybertrończycy rozmnażacie się inaczej i że miałeś dwóch ojców- Optimusa i Raticha-

- Ratcheta.

- Tak, tak jego...- Russell oparł się o drewniany stolik ogrodowy na którym stała kawa Bee. Russell wziął kilka głębokich wdechów zanim zaczął znowu kontynuować.- Ale chce po prostu zapytać... miałeś kiedyś mamę Bee?

- Mamę? Czemu pytasz?- Bee się dość zdziwił pytaniem chłopaka. Nawet nie wiedział co miał na ten temat odpowiedzieć, najbliższe co miał kiedykolwiek do matki był Ratchet.

- To nic wielkiego, po prostu mam dziwne myśli, tak sądzę.- natychmiast odwrócił głowę w inną stronę, by nie musieć patrzeć w oczy Bee.

- Wiesz...- Bumblebee na chwilę się zawiesił, by dokładnie przemyśleć co powinien powiedzieć.- Możesz mi o nich opowiedzieć, proszę? Obiecuję, że nie powiem twojemu tacie i zostanie to tylko między nami.- uśmiechnął się do chłopaka, który szybko znowu się obrócił w stronę Bee.

Zawstydził się praktycznie w ułamek sekundy, kiedy spojrzał twarz Bee.

- A teraz chodź.- Klepnął na swoje udo dość wymownie.

Bez pytania chłopak usiadł na kolanie Bee, czuł się dość dziwnie przez to jak blisko byli. Zapach najbliższej meliny przypomniał mu czemu przestał się do niebo zbliżać na dystans 5 metrów.

- Bee, czy wiesz czemu teraz mieszkam teraz na tym zatęchłym wysypisku tylko z moim tatą, z dala od moich przyjaciół i jakiejkolwiek cywilizacji?

- Właściwie...- podrapał się po głowie.- Nigdy o tym nie myślałem, wydawało mi się to dość normalne... ale jak tak o tym teraz mówisz, brzmi dziwnie.

- Moja mama wyjechała stąd, dla nowej pracy i... nowej rodziny do Danii. Zostawiając mnie i zmuszając do przeniesienia się tutaj, kiedy ona chce całkowicie zacząć życie od nowa. Zostawiła najpierw tatę, a potem mnie...! Co my niby zrobiliśmy, żeby wybrała swoją nową rodzinę od nas?! Nawet jej się nie chce trzymać ze mną kontaktu! Wiesz kiedy ostatni raz rozmawialiśmy? Tydzień przed waszym przybyciem na ziemię! A to było ponad rok temu...!- Na chwilę się zamilknął, przetarł swoje łzawiące oczy rękawem.- Czemu już mnie nie kocha...?- szepnął.

Bumblebee natychmiast przytulił Russell, dokładnie rozumiał jego uczucia i strach. Russell przez chwilę był w bezruchu, ale delikatnie odwzajemnił uścisk Bee po zastanowieniu. Mężczyźnie aż zabrakło słów jak ma mu odpowiedzieć, nawet nie wiedział co myśleć na ten temat.

- To... niestety nie jest takie proste, jak kocha czy nie kocha...

- W takim razie co to znaczy?

- To znaczy, że kiedy jesteś dorosły czasami podejmujesz głupie wybory myśląc, że to jedyne co może cię uszczęśliwić... a potem latami płacisz za konsekwencje swoich czynów. Zaufaj mi, wiem coś o wieloletnich głupich decyzjach.

- Ale w przeciwieństwie do niej, zostałeś naprawdę zraniony i zmieniłeś się, starasz się zrobić wszystko od nowa! Ona tylko wszystko rzuciła i z dnia na dzień zniknęła z mojego życia.- Russell zaczął silnie gestykulować.- A ty jedynie nie radziłeś sobie z życiem i...- na chwilę zamilkł i przemyślał swoje słowa.

- Brzmi dość znajomo do mnie, co?- delikatnie uśmiechnął się do Russell, który zawstydzony szybko zarzucił wzrok na coś innego, kiedy spojrzał w oczy Bee.

- To nadal nie to samo... Nie nakładałeś na siebie żadnych zobowiązań, których nie mógłbyś spełnić, do tego byłeś młodszy od niej.

-... Na moje nieszczęście już tego samego nie da się powiedzieć o moich matkach, Rusty.- podrapał się po karku i zaśmiał niezręcznie.

- Matkach?- Chłopak się zdziwił.- Z czego mi Strongarm mówiła, miałeś tylko dwóch ojców i starszą siostrę.

- Adoptowanych ojców, to ważny szczegół.- podkreślił.-... Możesz tutaj na mnie chwilę poczekać?

Bee zdjął ze swojego kolana Russella, po czym szybko dopił kawę, i poszedł w stronę Alchemoru. Chłopak jedynie opadł na krzesło i czekał na Bee, wbijając wzrok w ziemie i myśląc nad tą sytuacją.

Po kilkunastu minutach Bee przyszedł już w swoich normalnych ubraniach i wziął ze sobą od razu drugie krzesło. Postawił je obok Russella, po czym wyciągnął z kieszeni swój czarny skórzany portfel, a z jednej kieszonek wyciągnął stare nieco zżółknięte zdjęcie. Podał je odrazu Russellowi.

- Spójrz.- podał chłopakowi zdjęcie.

Na fotografii były dwie kobiety, obie miały garnitury, mała dziewczynka z ładną niebieską sukienką i jeszcze mniejszy chłopiec w żółtych ogrodniczkach i smoczek. Wszyscy wyglądali na szczęśliwych.

- To zdjęcie zostało zrobione tydzień przed tym jak, moje matki oddały mnie i Arcee Optimusowi I Ratchetowi.

Chłopak wyglądał na dość skonsternowanego tym wszystkim.

- Czemu was oddały? Wyglądacie na takich szczęśliwych...! Nawet jeśli była wtedy wojna.

Bee usiadł obok Rustiego na wcześniej przyniesionym krześle.

- Z tego co opowiadał mi Ratchet, nie wytrzymały napięcia i pod pretekstem tego że nasze miasto w tamtym momencie tonęło w płomieniach, oddały nas.- westchnął.-... a one uciekły na drugi koniec galaktyki i tyle o nich słyszano.

- Oh...

- No wiem! Przez to bardzo długo je obwiniałem za to wszystko i mnie męczyły myśli jak; "czemu to nam zrobiłyście?", "czy byliśmy dla was tak nieistotni?", "czemu nas nie kochałyście?" i tak w kółko i w kółko od najmłodszych lat. Aż do pewnego momentu kiedy wyruszyłem na Tygerpax...

- Tigerpax?-spojrzał na Bee.

- Takie miejsce na Cybertronie... tam Megatron najpierw zabił jednego z bardzo istotnych autobotów- Jetfira... a mnie prawie że śmiertelnie zranił i na wiele lat odebrał zdolność mówienia.- delikatnie przejechał palcami po swojej ranie na szyi. Chwilę siedział w ciszy, po czym szybko odchrząknął, widząc twarz zmartwionego chłopaka i wrócił do wypowiedzi.- Ale wracając! Wtedy przestałem mieć takie myśli, wiesz czemu?

Chłopak słuchał w ciszy, a Bee wziął od niego swoje zdjęcie z młodości i podał mu inne. Na nim był już nastolatkiem a razem z nim byli Optimus, Bulkhead, Arcee i Ratchet.

- Bo miałem już nową rodzinę, o którą się mogłem martwić. Oczywiście z czasem o dziwo zamiast się zmniejszać, powiększała się! Aczkolwiek po tylu latach uważam, że to dobrze. Nawet Arcee wróciła po jej "wielkiej ucieczce" z głównej bazy autobotów, tylko dlatego, że chciała udowodnić, że da sobie radę sama. Dało mi to chociaż ułudę normalności... Po prostu chce ci powiedzieć, że nie powinieneś się przejmować ludźmi, którzy odeszli, jeśli naprawdę im zależy to może pewnego dnia wrócą... Może nawet ja pewnego dnia będę miał siłę, by wrócić.

Russell siedział chwilę w ciszy, wpatrując się w fotografię. Czuł się zagubiony, ale jednocześnie bardzo uspokoiło go to co mu powiedział Bumblebee. Wziął cichy, ale głęboki wdech.

- Bee...?- szepnął.

- Tak Russell?

- Zróbmy sobie wspólne zdjęcie.

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multiverse-imagines · 2 years ago

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um… so I literally just binged read all your Vash fics. Planning on watching the anime on Saturday.

but I’m even tho I’m a newcomer……

can I get a Vash x Reader, where maybe homeboy gets her pregnant.

👉👈

he’s already taking over my life…

A/N: so I'm not typically comfortable with writing this kind of thing, but for specifically you, (and Vash) just this once, I'll indulge a pregnancy fic request. It gave me a chance to think about things I don't want to write in the future. It's my fault for not putting it in my pinned post. I will say this was one of the cutest things I've written in Vash's pov, and probably how I would react if I got told I was gonna be a dad. I do appreciate getting out of my comfort zone sometimes. ^-^

On the lighter notes, I'm so excited for you to be joining the Trigun cult we've amassed on Tumblr! Give the manga a read too if you can! Don't worry about being a newcomer. I've only been in this fandom for a year. (Where has he been all my life?) It's never too late to start a new series!!! If you want someone to gush about the series with, hit me up!

I've only had Vash for a year, and in my head we've already been married for 10. xD

Sprout

I carried a box of donuts, sandwiches, and a couple of sodas towards City Hall, where she worked. She, My Lovely Mayfly, worked there as a volunteer coordinator. I decided to surprise her with lunch. She always works herself too hard, and sometimes forgets to eat. I entered the main lobby, quickly finding the office she worked in. It was empty. I came in early enough where she wouldn't have gone to lunch with anyone else. The hairs on my neck stood on end as I thought of the worst. Making my way back to the front desk, I asked the receptionist where she was.

"Oh, She went out for a bit. She said she had a doctor's appointment. Said she'd hopefully be back by lunch." The receptionist took a sip of his coffee. A doctor's appointment? She hadn't said anything about an appointment this week. Before I could make my way back to her office to wait, a chime of the front door revealed someone entering City Hall. I turned around to see her, My Mayfly. She almost seemed troubled, looking at the ground, not quite noticing me yet.

"Hey, Mayfly!" I cheerily greeted her as always. She seemed to stiffen up, but was immediately happy to see me.

"H-hey, Angel. Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, I brought us some lunch! How was your appointment?" She stiffened up again at this.

"Why don't we eat lunch!" She seemed to panic as she dragged me into her office, shutting the door, almost too quickly. She leaned against the door with a sigh. She was acting strange, well, more so than usual.

"Mayfly, is something wrong?" I let my voice drop to a concerned tone. Her breath hitched, and the facade of being around other people faded. Her face was almost… scared. Vulnerable, Worry, such things I never wanted to see on her face.

"Do you remember when I said sometime last week that I was feeling kinda funny?"

"Y-yeah, I thought it was the burger from the bar."

"Well, it wasn't the burger, I guess…"

"You didn't get sick, did you? You're not dying are you?" I began to worry. Humans didn't live too long on this planet. Taking a chance with her as my partner was a struggle for me. I often distance myself from others where I can, even though it doesn't ease the pain when they die. We had spoken on this topic a few times when I tried to deny her advances, even though every fiber of my being wanted her. What if she really was dying? I couldn't take her with me as I continued to run from bounty hunters and the like.

"Vash." My name leaving her lips broke my panic, and I hadn't even noticed she had taken my hands, "I'm not dying. I…." She took a deep breath, "I'm pregnant."

"P-pregnant." I repeated back to her, "wh…what?" My face relaxed from panic to surprise as my gaze drifted to her hips, "I.. I didn't think that was even possible." A wave of emotion was flowing through me all at once. How was my DNA compatible with human DNA? How was I supposed to keep the two of them safe? Raising a child on the run? What if Knives targeted them? What if I died before I could see the kid go to school? Or get married? Oh, Rem, help me. What if they died young? What if I lost Mayfly during the birthing process? What if I lost both of them?

My body moved on its own as I leaned down to press a kiss to her lips. I rested one hand on her back, the other rested on her cheek. I allowed my mind to clear as I lost myself in her kiss.

I whispered her name when I parted from her lips. Holding her chin to keep intimate eye contact.

"I love you. Let's have a family together." I found myself laughing a little bit as a smile came across my face. The laughter spread as I pressed more little kisses to her lips, "I'm gonna be a dad." I toyed with the idea of teaching the little sprout how to color, ride a Tomas, reading them bedtime stories, falling asleep with them cradled into my chest on our ragged couch, and even teaching them good morals if I could help it.

"I'll keep you both safe. I promise."

#trigun #vash the stampede #vash x reader #trigun brain rot #tw: pregnancy

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wastemanjohn · 1 year ago

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You KNEW my prompt was gonna include pregnancy lmao but I’m gonna say samdean accidental pregnancy — your choice if Dean or Deanna, your choice which season but I wanna see Dean(na) confessing to Sam that s/he’s knocked up!

here you go mate <3 (sorry for sneaking my deanna and david bowie headcanon in here but i had reason to believe you wouldn't mind xD - and exploring this pushed me nicely out of my comfort zone so thank you for the prompt!)

The skies over the salvage yard are pink with shepherd's delight clouds. The evening breeze has a little bite, and the air smells like rotting oil and dead leaves. The latter scent is one Sam associates with shoplifting school supplies, with the good coffee shops opening up on campus again. It's an awkward nostalgia, but it comes to him anyway as he buttons up his shirt for warmth and makes a start on staking out the boulevard of broken cars, armed with two bottles of El Sol and a mental note of all the phrases he's learned not to say. Deanna's gotta be out here somewhere.

The thing is, Sam thinks as he passes the nearly restored Impala, it had seemed like his sister was doing a little better. She's still sharp tongued and irritable, but she's not been spending 12 hours a day doing god knows what under that hood. She's been hanging out with Sam and Bobby more in the evenings, not really saying much, but sometimes she smiles with her whole face at something someone says, and Sam's always a little surprised at the force of his relief. She's even been talking a bit about getting out on the road again, even if she never directly mentions Dad; but Sam's caught her quietly leafing through his journal now and then lately. Not that he's said anything about it, because that's just asking for trouble; and anyway, regardless of any improvement, Sam still has no idea what's going on in Deanna's head, really. She feels very far away.

She went out this afternoon. For hours. Didn't say where she was going; but it's got to be the first time she's left Bobby's place in weeks. She left her phone behind on the nightstand, in this way that Sam couldn't help but suspect was intentional, because there had to be something about that; had to be something in the way Deanna caught Sam's eye through the window as she was coming back, coming all slow down the path with Dad's jacket over her shoulders and this tight expression on her face. Something in the way Deanna had sharply changed direction at the sight of him, veering off until she faded into the salvage yard and Sam couldn't see her anymore. And it's not that Sam meant to be hovering near the front of the house at the exact moment of her return like a worried parent, but shit happens.

Let her be, son, Bobby had said, without looking up from his scotch and that leatherbound demonology book he'd been annotating all day. Harder you push, the more she's gonna clam up.

It bothers Sam when Bobby talks like that, like he knows Deanna better than Sam does or something. As for letting her be - well, if Bobby knows Sam at all, he's got a strange way of showing it.

As Sam goes deeper into the yard, he can hear music. Tinny, faint; but Sam recognizes David Bowie. He spent enough time being subjected to every single tape the guy ever made, even the really out there ones, over and over again as a kid to know that voice anywhere. That had been one of Deanna's more intense phases. Sam thinks she finds him comforting now, maybe; familiar, well worn, like an old blanket. She'd deny that, of course, the way she always denies shit that she thinks sounds girly, or maybe just vulnerable - but it hadn't been lost on Sam over the past year, how Deanna would play those tapes during nearly every overnight drive they took. Her hands always a little too tight on the steering wheel, Dad's unknown whereabouts breathing down the backs of their neck like a spirit.

Sam follows that bustling piano, ch-ch-changes, until he finds his sister. She's sitting on the floor, leaning against the dented door of an eighties truck with a mangled hood. The windows are down. The music is coming from inside.

Dad's jacket is so big over Deanna's shoulders. It practically drowns her, looks kind of ridiculous, if Sam were to be mean about it; still smells like Dad's cigarettes. Deanna doesn't look up, when Sam approaches, but she doesn't hide her face or snipe at him to fuck off either. Which means this is already going well.

"Hey." Sam says it cautiously. "What are you doing out here?"

Her eyes roll up at him. "Making bacon and eggs, jackass. What's it look like I'm doing?"

Sam doesn't know, actually. Still, he takes the sarcasm on the chin. He holds one of the beer bottles out to Deanna; she glances at it, then shakes her head.

It surprises Sam, but he doesn't push. "You look like crap," he offers.

Deanna snorts. "Well. Don't you know how to make a girl feel special."

There's no bite in it. That tells Sam they're okay. She does, though; look like crap, that is. Tired; washed out. She's been sleeping in the day a lot. Bobby says it's the grief, that she needs it. Sam could believe that. He wonders, though, if Bobby's heard Deanna throwing up in the night lately. Not just one of her tactical upchucks to stave off a hangover, because she's not been drinking all that much lately; but these real hacking puke sessions that jolt Sam out of sleep in the early hours of the morning. She never comes back to her bed afterwards. And Sam has his suspicions about that too, like with the left behind phone; it's Deanna's way of not giving him a chance to pry. She knows how thin the wall between the bathroom and the spare bedroom is.

"Can I sit?" Sam asks.

Deanna shrugs. It's as good as permission.

Sam lowers himself down beside her, gets comfy on the rough gravel. He puts down the beers; doesn't feel much like drinking by himself.

They sit in silence for a while. Puts Sam on edge; but it's hard to know what to say to Deanna most of the time these days, which isn't a position he's ever been in before. Then again, they've never been in the position of losing their father before, so there's that. It still doesn't feel real. It probably never will.

"Keys were still in the ignition," Deanna says, nodding up towards the truck. "Tapedeck works. Engine's salvageable. Bobby's way too quick to junk these babies. Upsets me."

Sam smiles. "Dare you to say that to his face."

"Hey, maybe I will. If he gave me half a day with this death trap I'd get her purring again. Turn her into a whole new woman."

She folds her arms, tilts her head back against that dented door. Her eyes are kinda pink and bleary.

"You should see the tapes in the glove compartment," she adds. "'S a fucking goldmine.

"Is this Hunky Dory?" Sam asks.

Deanna raises an eyebrow. "Wow. And there I was thinking you weren't paying attention all this time."

"You didn't exactly give me a choice. You only played this album every day for like ten years."

Deanna grins. "I'm proud of you, Sammy. I knew you'd learn to love it eventually."

"Love is a strong word," Sam replies.

Deanna snorts again. Something like affection passes over her face. Sam hasn't seen that in a while.

"I lost this album years ago," Deanna says. "Think it ended up with Dad, maybe. You know how our stuff used to always get mixed up."

Sam's a little stunned. And maybe it shows, because Deanna narrows her eyes at him. "What?"

"Nothing." He swallows - "Just that you, uh, mentioned Dad."

"Yeah. So?"

It's quick, defensive enough for Sam to know to shut up. He's getting good at that kind of thing.

Deanna's scowl fades; she grins, lightly punches his thigh. "You creep. Quit staring at me."

Sam didn't realize he was. But if they were a different kind of people, maybe Sam would tell Deanna how pretty she looks under the dying sunlight, under those pink, glowy clouds; but he wouldn't really know how to put something like that, and Deanna would never let him live it down if he said it aloud anyway. So he keeps it to himself. Instead, he watches Deanna pull at a spooling thread from her shirt sleeve peeking out from beneath Dad's jacket.

"You know," Deanna says, "being out here always reminds me of us being kids. Bobby letting us play in the yard until the sun went down. Bringing us lemonade. Do you remember?"

Sam smiles. "Yeah, Dee. Of course I remember."

Deanna carries on like she wasn't expecting an actual response. "We'd never had homemade lemonade. Remember how I used to try to make it for you when we got back on the road? Mine always kinda sucked, though."

Sam feels a little on edge, hyper aware of everything his body is doing, like he's trying not to spook a wild gazelle. This is the most Deanna has spoken in weeks. "You tried," he offers, because she did, Deanna always tried so hard with stuff like that. He hasn't thought about Deanna's crappy lemonade in years. With Bowie warbling about life on mars on the stereo, and the memory of Deanna's sticky too-bitter attempt alive on his tongue, it feels like it's 1992 again.

Deanna keeps pulling at that thread. "You know, back when I used to watch you - I was, I dunno, maybe ten or eleven. And you were so - you were so damn innocent, you know? Just really cute, I guess."

"Cute?" Sam echoes.

"Yeah." There's this tight, half-smile on her mouth that Sam can't quite read. "You were so curious about shit all the time. Always wanting me to tell you stories. Always getting yourself scraped and bruised because you couldn't stop fucking climbing stuff."

Sam isn't sure what to say. There's something about remembering himself as a child that makes him uncomfortable. Maybe it's the idea of being so small and so helpless; or maybe it's the memory of that hard-to-place unease that lived inside of him like blood from the moment he was fully sentient, that gut-deep sense that something about his life - his family, his barely present Daddy - just wasn't right.

"You were a pain in the ass," Deanna continues, with this fond chuckle. "Asking me questions all the time. Wanting to know how every little thing in the world worked. If I didn't know the answers, I'd just make 'em up. You believed everything I said." She clicks her tongue. "Man, do I miss that."

Why are we talking about this? Sam nearly asks. But that runs the risk that Deanna will snap shut like an oyster, and Sam will never get the answer at all. So he keeps his mouth closed. He lets Deanna carry on.

"Sammy, I used to -" She trails off, looking weirdly sheepish. "This is so so fucking weird, but like - when I was watching you, I used to wish you were actually my kid. And you - you kinda were, you know? Felt like you were mine... mine just as much as you were Dad's."

Dad, again. Sounds so unfamiliar in Deanna's voice now that it takes Sam a moment to process the revelation that came before it. "You did? Seriously?" is all he manages.

"Yeah." She's looking at her lap. Still that tight half-smile. "Seriously."

And Sam struggles to know what to do with that, what it means. Because it's hard, lately, for Sam to be angry with his father about much; makes him feel almost empty, actually, after a lifetime of nursing this near-addictive resentment over things he never fully understood. And of those things, Deanna - getting her stuff mixed up with Dad's, being so intertwined with him, resembling her martyred mother so much Dad could never stop commenting on it - Deanna seeing Sam as her own, apparently - well, he doesn't know. Sometimes Deanna just says shit. He probably isn't meant to read into it.

And besides, Sam doesn't know anything for sure. Always felt like he never really wanted to. And as he's already made his choice to love his father, he needs to keep it that way.

Deanna shuts her eyes, then. They're puffy under her lashlines, kissed with gray. "I mean," she says, "Don't get me wrong. You annoyed the crap outta me sometimes." She shrugs, hard, like a defence to an attack Sam hasn't made. "I - I do know that, Sammy. I know there was times I coulda been nicer to you." She looks a little pained.

"We were just kids Dee," Sam offers. "Not like either of us were exactly saints."

"I keep remembering," Deanna continues, in that way, like Sam hadn't spoken again, "There was this time Dad kind of - got caught up in something. Still don't know what. But he wasn't home when he said he'd be. We were running out of everything. Food, money. No one was answering the phone. And you - you were driving me insane, Sammy."

Deanna says the last part a little too quietly; her head bows, hair covering her face. And Sam thinks he knows where this is going. He's getting a little uneasy.

"You just - you kept on and on with your damn questions. 'Where's Dad? What does he do while he's away? When's he coming back?' Then you - you asked about Mom."

"Deanna-"

She shakes her head, cutting him off. Something bitter on her lips, not quite a smile. "Who punches a five year old in the face, Sammy? I can't believe I -"

"You were only nine, Dee." Sam reminds her, when she doesn't finish the sentence. "You didn't know any better."

And it's true; Dad made sure of that, with his shoot first, ask questions later manifesto. But Deanna would never see it that way. She just laughs, colorless, bitter. "Yeah. I did. I shoulda, at least. I just -" She huffs. "Sometimes it feels like I just - I couldn't stop screwing up."

"You were doing it all by yourself." As the words leave his mouth, Sam registers how they sound. Like something you'd say about a single mom, some divorced thirty something with three kids, working two jobs to keep everyone fed and clothed. Not a nine year old.

"I guess -" Deanna sucks in a breath. "I just think about that a lot. That's all."

There's this dread growing inside of Sam as he watches Deanna's mouth twist up; she blinks, angrily. "Are you - crying?"

"Shut up," she mumbles.

She turns her face away a little. Draws her knees up to her chest. And it's strange and unsettling for Sam to see, like a horse walking on its hind legs or something; because Deanna doesn't cry, crying is for girls, and anatomy aside, she doesn't much like being seen as one of those. Even before Dad's pyre she stood, solemn and silent, breathing slow, composed. A hell of a lot more composed than Sam was, anyway.

"What's going on, Dee?"

She shrugs. That's very different to I'm fine.

And if things had been in any way close to normal over the last couple of months, Sam might touch Deanna's hand right about now. Lace their fingers; cup her face. Kiss her, maybe, the way she hasn't let him kiss her in a long time. Not since - well - not since the night they let Dad go. Sam can still remember the heat from the fire on his face, the way Deanna's hair felt grainy with ash; how her lips had tasted earthy and swollen, how she felt so small and fragile in his arms, more than she ever had. Still his big sister. Still the person he wants when he's scared and spiralling and doesn't know what to do but grab onto her, and hold on and on and on.

Deanna sniffs, loudly. "I just - I had so much on my shoulders, you know? Dealin' with you... dealin' with Dad..."

Her voice cracks a little. Sam says, "It was - it was a lot. I know."

A lot. So much summed up in those two words, but it's not like Sam's had a lot of practise in talking about this.

Deanna laughs down at her folded knees, all thick. "You don't know, Sammy. You don't know at all. And I'm - I'm really glad you don't."

Sam isn't sure what to say to that. Partly because he can't gauge Deanna's tone, and partly because that feels like one of the most honest things Deanna's ever said to him. And now he's really worried.

"I just - I always wished I had another chance, you know? A chance to do over all those screw ups I made."

Tentatively, Sam reaches out to put a hand on her shoulder. It tenses a little beneath his fingers; but she doesn't pull away. That's good.

"I don't know where all this is coming from, Dee," Sam admits.

There's a pause, and Deanna seems to blink for a little too long. "It's - Sammy, I just keep on thinking. Dad's - Dad's gone."

It's the first time she's actually said it. Sam swallows; throat feels a little thick. "Yeah. I know."

"And I was just getting - you get used to things being one way, you know?" She runs a hand through her hair, shiny with grease like oil slicks. "It's always like that. You start getting used to things, and then - then some other shit happens. And suddenly things are a whole new way. Before you can even fucking -"

"What do you mean?"

"Sammy, I knew something was wrong. I - I think I knew all along. But - today..."

Sam does everything in his power to keep his growing anxiety out of his voice. "Where did you go today, Deanna?"

Her lips press together. She's still looking at her lap.

That dread expands, curdles, in Sam's gut. "Tell me."

Her hands are shaking against her thighs. "I - I went to the doctor."

That's absolutely the last thing Sam expected. "Since when do you go to the doctor?"

"I kinda had to."

Sam watches the little quiver of her fingers; and with that, he thinks back to the puking, the tiredness, how not right his sister looks. He thinks about Jess, how they were talking about what color to paint the living room 24 hours before she went up in flames on the ceiling. He thinks about Dad calmly sending him off for coffee before he…

Things are one way. Then suddenly they're another. Before you can blink, before you even remember your own name.

"Are you - are you sick?" Sam tries to keep his voice even.

Deanna isn't looking at him. "Kinda."

Sam thinks about Deanna hooked up to wires and machines. The miracle; how miracles don't happen. He's been harboring a little fear that there has to still be something wrong. A lacerated organ. A foreign object. Something they must have missed. But he thought - hoped - it was just that - a fear.

Sam sucks in a breath. "Okay. So - so what..."

Deanna smiles grimly. "Turns out I've got a parasite."

He watches Deanna shift. Her hand move towards one of the pockets of Dad's jacket. She keeps her eyes on her lap as she passes a small slip of paper to Sam. Small, rectangular. He takes it.

It's a moment or so before he realizes what he's seeing. Kind of like a photograph; a fuzzy sepia. Odd shapes that slowly begin to make sense.

"Ten weeks," Deanna says, her voice a little hoarse with disbelief. "I'm - I'm ten fucking weeks pregnant, Sammy."

Sam stares numbly at that ultrasound still. At the shapes, like two beans stacked on top of each other. Faint, fuzzy lines. Tiny arms. Tiny legs. He stares at them until they blur.

Ten weeks. Ten weeks since -

"So it's - " Sam can't finish the sentence.

"Yeah, Sammy. It's yours."

Her voice sounds very far away. And Sam can smell ash and fumes, traces of hospital grade body wash on Deanna's skin, skin that was bruised all over from cannulae and wires; and Sam couldn't catch his breath because Dad was gone, the last of him was just yards away on that burnt out pyre, gone; and Deanna's hands were on his face, tangled up in his hair, forehead pressed against his, and she was straddling his lap in the Impala's backseat, her eyes shut, muttering ssh, ssh over and over, maybe to Sam, or maybe to herself, but she kept saying it, even through the long kisses she kept pressing to his mouth; and Sam remembers he could barely see, he felt like he was choking on that ashy air, but he had Deanna, and he needed Deanna, he'd never needed her so much in his entire life. And Deanna understood, the way she's always understood things like that; and Deanna had kept on with her kissing and ssh-ing as she moved on top of him, fast, desperate, and Sam had clung onto her waist and met each roll of her hips, fast, anguished, because he couldn't get close enough, deep enough; and Deanna had been making these pitchy, breathless sounds like she was in pain, but she didn't stop Sam, and the whole time her eyes were wide and fixed on his face; and Sam remembers tangling her hair around his fingers like rope, he remembers arching up against her as he came, his body going through the motions, his senses numb to it. That numbness hasn't really left him since.

"Sammy, say something."

Deanna's voice, strained, cuts through the memory. Hauls Sam back to the present; Bowie, rotten oil, dead leaves. That autumnal breeze. His sister's face, tight and worried. Sam recognizes that pallor a little more now: shock.

It's passing through Sam as well. Of all the things he expected - this was nowhere on the list. Nowhere close.

"Alright," he manages eventually. Amazed at how calm he sounds. "What do you wanna do?" Because that's the thing to ask, right?

Deanna's lips twist again. "I mean - like, right away, I thought about just - you know - going off and taking care of it. Not even telling you. Just - "

"You wouldn't have told me?"

"I said I thought about it, Sam." She clicks her tongue; another rough wipe of her eyes. "I'm telling you now, aren't I?"

Sam keeps staring. Staring, at that image. That tiny, tiny baby.

"Is that what you want?" he manages, eventually. Hoarse as Deanna. "To - take care of it?"

Deanna's pause seems to roll around the length of the yard. Then, her eyes stray to her lap again. "You know, Dad used to lecture me about this shit. Made it very clear how disappointed he'd be if I ever accidentally got myself knocked up."

Sam says, "Really?"

"Yeah. All the time." There's something acidic in Deanna's voice. "And you know why he harped on about it so much?"

"Why?"

"Because he said it wouldn't be fair to bring a kid into all this. Into the life." Deanna laughs, this flat, one-note thing. Something sharp flashes through her eyes; something gone too quick for Sam to fully identify. "Can you believe he said that to me? After everything he..."

She stops. And Sam watches Deanna's face reset, as if she hadn't expressed something like anger towards Dad for the first time ever. Something like what Sam has been saying, feeling, thinking, ever since he was old enough to understand. Everything Deanna always denied.

"It wouldn't have to be the same." It comes out of Sam's mouth before he can catch up with it. "You know. The same as we had it."

Deanna keeps on looking at her lap.

"You -" Sam takes a breath. "You know that, right?"

Deanna sighs. More like the breath whipping out of her body. "I'm not gonna stop looking for the demon, Sammy."

She says it like she expected Sam to insist on it. He clarifies: "I'm not saying we do. I'm saying we make it work."

He has no idea how. No fucking idea. His brain hasn't quite absorbed what's in front of him yet, the news undigested; but he's certain, somehow, of that.

Deanna gives that odd laugh again. Sam isn't sure what it means, this time. "It's also..." She picks at that thread on her shirt again. "I mean, the doctor said it looked healthy. But what if it comes out and it's like, a cyclops or something?"

"Why would it be -"

Deanna's shoulders rise. "You've seen Deliverance, right?"

Oh.

Sam swallows. His eyes stray back to the picture. Not that he can see much; not that there's much to see. But there's enough there for Sam to think it looks absolutely perfect.

"There are risks," is all he can think to say. "But it's - you know. It's not completely inevitable."

Deanna narrows her eyes. "You've already looked this stuff up, haven't you?"

She says it in this accusatory way. Sam runs his thumb delicately across the grainy image. "There was always a chance this could happen, Dee."

Always a chance. They've never done much to mitigate it, really. There's not enough space in Sam's brain right now, to wonder why that is.

Deanna skips over it too. Runs a hand through that greasy hair. Her lips twist.

"I just think," she says, after a while, "even if it comes out with three heads, playing a fucking banjo... would I care? You know?"

She's still not quite meeting Sam's eyes. Sam prompts, "Would you?"

"I mean. It's not like it'd be the only freak in this family, right?" A smile spreads across her mouth. "Sammy, you know I wouldn't care. I'd -I'd love it no matter what."

"Me too." It comes out thick; Sam's never been more sure of anything in his life.

He hands Deanna back the picture; takes her hand, deceptively delicate and cold in his, as he watches her eyes fog up with tears again. She doesn't hide this time; leans in to press her forehead against Sam's, just like that night ten weeks ago, just like they've come full circle. And fuck, it feels like forever since Sam's been touched like this, touched by anyone; he's just wondering if leaning in for a kiss would be pushing it, when he feels Deanna's plump, dried out lips brushing his. They feel a little sticky, and there's this malodor to her breath, but Sam barely registers it. It's like coming home.

I missed you, he doesn't say; can't, when Deanna's mouth would smother it anyway. When Deanna would only screw her face up and call him a big girl, and he'd rattle with guilt about feeling a little humiliated by that, but he'd feel it anyway.

Deanna pulls away first. She's a little flushed, and Sam can faintly see the capillaries in her face, like pink lines on a map under her skin; she squeezes his hand, laces their fingers. Moves them together until Sam's palm is flat against her stomach, the warmth of her body underneath that worn flannel.

"I keep thinking I can feel it," she whispers. "Now I know it's there."

Sam watches their interlaced hands dumbly. Overwhelmed. He can too.

"I kinda hope it's a girl." Deanna's voice has that hoarse quality again. "So I can - so she can have a Mom. So she can have what I didn't have."

She says it at the exact moment Sam finds himself hoping it's a boy. His reasons are similar. But for someone who doesn't like to talk, Deanna's always been way better at articulating stuff like that.

"You'll be a great Mom, Dee," he says, firmly. You were to me.

"Alright. You don't need to kiss my ass." Deanna ruffles his hair, like she did when she kissed him goodnight as a kid.

It takes Sam a moment to find his voice again. "I mean it, Dee. We'll make it work." He says it with this conviction that rises up from somewhere deep. "And I'm gonna be here for you, alright? Every step of the way."

Deanna groans. "Jesus Christ. I knew you'd be like this."

But she's smiling. And Sam allows himself to as well.

"Sammy?"

"Yeah?"

“You know Dad would kill us, right? But man, do I wish he was here right now.”

She says it with a laugh in her voice, her face all twisted up; and Sam can't help but remember how he and Jess had talked about kids, vaguely, sometimes, kind of like a concept, a distant dream. How Sam had thought to himself about Dad a lot then, too, the way he never really stopped thinking about Dad and Deanna. He remembers wondering to himself whether Dad would be proud. Whether he'd even want a grandkid; if he'd want to know at all. Back then, Sam genuinely toyed with the idea that Dad wouldn't even care. Never come back, Sam.

It's not the same, now. Holy fuck, this is not the same, and it can probably only be a good thing that Dad's not here to know about this; so Sam pushes away the thought. He puts his arms around Deanna's waist and pulls her as close as he dares.

"It'll be okay," he says again, because he can't think of anything else. Because it has to be.

Deanna's looking at him kinda intently. "Sam, do you think this is Dad's way of like - you know - coming back?"

"Uh - what?"

Deanna shrugs. "Dunno. Just - hormones talking, I guess." She squeezes Sam's hand against her stomach. "Forget I said anything."

Sam's not sure he can. They don't say anything after that.

#asks #prompts #samdeanna #johndeanna if u squint #my writing #yes I know I literally always play in this part of the Canon sandbox #but whatever i invite you to sue me #cw discussions of abortion #cw childhood trauma #cw intergenerational trauma #cw incest #this came out very soft by my standards lol #well apart from all the incest and trauma #it's so heavy on the incest lol

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