#calling him his real name won't make peter actually know him any better. it won't make the false image in his mind any more real
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there is something just so damn compelling about Lonelyeyes as a deeply, deliberately harmful relationship, as a vessel for fear, for feeding.
every time they're together Elias knows Peter can barely stand his company, knows he'll be leaving both soon and abruptly, knows that Peter will never truly give himself away. he knows that his archives are full of letters from friends he left to die or killed himself, knows that his closest companion is an avatar of Forsaken, knows that he truly has no one left but himself.
every time they're together Peter knows Elias can see him, see all of him laid out and plain, all his most private thoughts, all his hopes and his fears. he knows there is always, always a chance that Elias is watching him whenever he is anywhere but the Lonely itself. even on the Tundra, tucked away in his private sanctum, he can never truly escape it, but that fear is so much worse here and now, with Elias' eyes (Jonah's eyes, really) on him. it is undeniable that he is seen, and known, and judged.
Elias knows that Peter understands exactly what he's thinking when they're together, that he knows all the sentimental weaknesses he's tried to cut away. Peter knows that Elias will never truly care for him, that at the end of the day he will always be another piece on Elias' chess board, practical and expendable.
they both know what this is for. they need fear, and they do, at the end of the day, want each other (in certain ways, in painful ways, always too much or too little), and they are under no illusions about what this means to the other (Elias knows what it means to Peter, of course, and while Peter doesn't have any supernatural insight he's no fool), and it hurts, and it's meant to hurt. it hurts, and it sustains them, and when they go their separate ways they can't help but wait for the next visit with longing and fear alike.
#writing this made me realize how “i will call him elias for that is how i have known him”#plays into peter's whole “the people you think you love do not exist” thing#to peter jonah IS elias because thats the version of him peter has constructed in his head#he'll never truly know the man so why call him jonah if the facade that peter knows is called elias?#calling him his real name won't make peter actually know him any better. it won't make the false image in his mind any more real#the magnus archives#tma#elias bouchard#peter lukas#lonelyeyes#jonah magnus
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please give us more dweu hunger games headcanons!! seven benny ace and hex is such an incredible team in any context
It's extremely rare for a Victor's child to be Reaped, but not unheard of. in the eyes of the President and those in the Capitol, that kind of occurrence means an even deeper reminder than no one is exempt; all are sacrifices and may be given the "opportunity" to live up to that. To Benny, all it means is that her son is dead.
(RIP Peter you deserve better than being a plot device in my fics but I'm horrible)
the other Mentor from Benny's district is a strange little man who calls himself the Doctor, but his name is actually Lungbarrow. he's a seemingly jolly nerd who also happens to have been extremely, notoriously ruthless and cunning in his own Games. the specific, dangerous glint in his eye is the only thing that betrays his smiling exterior.
Benny didn't really care about mentoring until Peter was Reaped, but now even though he is *ahem* gone, she does it somewhat in his honor. That, and she can't get as good alcohol at home, so the trip to the Capitol has that one, selfish, redeeming factor to her.
Dorothy McShane, who only lets people call her "Ace," is the better candidate for survival out of the district's two Tributes. she's willing to fight, determined, even if it is mostly out of a desperation and resignation she's known her whole life. her best friend Julian was Reaped the year prior. he was not a Victor.
Ace is already familiar with the Doctor, because he'd taken her under his wing in the wake of her friend's televised death. Benny thinks the girl would have made a good Career Tribute, in another life. she's got just enough anger for it.
Thomas "Hex" Schofield, the male Tribute, is softer. he doesn't want to die, but he also doesn't want to kill. he's the same age as his teenage mother was when she died in the Games. he looks Benny straight in the eyes when he shrugs and says he supposes he's just carrying on a — very brief — family legacy
the reason Benny stayed away from mentoring for so long is because she hates giving these kids hope and knowing only one of them even has the chance to survive. but maybe even giving them hope to begin with makes it worth it.
the Doctor has no such struggles. he plans to someday topple the Capitol, and mentoring may be the way to do that. he's playing the arena like a chessboard, and these two teenagers are the most valuable pieces to him.
Benny is very well acquainted with the Head Gamemaker, Irving Braxiatel. he took one look at her when she was a Tribute herself and decided to play favorites — probably because she wasn't afraid of him; truth is, she didn't even know who he was back then, not until her training had nearly ended and he told her, secretly, that he would help her win. she didn't accept his help, but she didn't turn it away, either. she only had to kill one person in the arena, because she always found, or was given, places to hide.
the only time she's ever asked anything of her one, single friend in high places, was Peter's games. she cornered Brax during training week and asked, begged him to help Peter the way he'd done her. he told her he would try, and then he very clearly, obviously did not. Peter died. and when Brax tried to talk to her afterwards, Benny stormed away. (she was too drunk to have a conversation right then, anyway, especially with the man who had given her such false hope)
Ruth Leonidas and Jack McSpringheel (nobody knows his real last name, but that's what he tells everyone) are mentors as well, both from different districts. Ruth is a little less... maybe not "sane," but she's less put together, less fully *there* than she was before the Games. she attached herself to Benny as soon as they met, and is one of the few other Victors who Benny actually enjoys spending time with.
Jack, of course, takes far too much pleasure in messing with them both, though he won't go near the Doctor out of intimidation. he's an all-around nuisance during trainup week, because not only does he pester all the other mentors and try to scare or mess with the Tributes, he also makes it his mission to annoy all the stylists and Gamemakers — especially Brax. (side note: Jack is... basically Finnick in this AU, but with probably slightly less horrible trauma. does this make Ruth Annie? possibly. who knows. definitely not me lol)
the Doctor is the best at the training bit, all the science and strategy. all Benny can do is be vaguely maternal and teach them how to find food, store water, and most of all: to hide. Benny's good at moving from place to place, and even if she's noticed, it doesn't matter because she'll find another place. she's good at it, and her life is proof.
Ace doesn't want to hide, she wants to fight, and when Benny tries to warn her that none of these kids in the Arena with her killed her best friend, the girl doesn't listen. she's full of anger and pain and aloneness and her preferred weapon is a bludgeon and she's ready to go down swinging and maybe just maybe survive.
Benny has less of an immediate connection with Hex, but he seeks her out. he has a strategy, he tells her, and he wants to hear what she thinks. she argues that she's not the strategist, not the chessmaster the Doctor or Irving Braxiatel are, but she listens anyway. he plans to die. to go down fighting and let Ace win. he plans to die for Ace, because he thinks she's better fit for it. he wants his friend to live. Benny looks at him and wants to argue. she wants to tell him to fight, but she also understands. if that's what he wants, she tells him, she'll help him keep Ace alive. it's the least she can do.
Irving Braxiatel continues to seek her out — in the hallways, at the parties, even in the apartments they're staying in. he thinks they're still friends, or can be, and Benny gives him the what-for over that. she shouldn't blame him, not fully, but in her mind, because she had asked for his help and he had failed to give it, he is responsible for her son's death. she doesn't ever want to forgive him for that.
Brax, for his part, has a reputation to uphold. he's supposed to remain impartial, and his first slip-up with Benny put him in enough danger as it was. he did try, to some degree, to give Peter Summerfield an advantage, but he couldn't do much without being targeted himself and likely putting a target on Benny's back as well. he prefers security to the risk that would take. he is sorry, of course, knows somewhere deep down that he should have done more, but that's only peripheral. he does, however, want his friend back. Benny was his best (one of his only) friend. and now she hates him.
President Rassilon is keeping a close eye on the Doctor in particular, and by extension, Benny. Ace and Hex make a stand at the opening parade, and that makes them persons of interest as well. Ace may not be the "Girl on Fire," but she's unstoppable with her a heavy bludgeon and determination grown from a difficult, lonely childhood. Hex is just as determined; determined to help Ace. he's given up on his own life. like he told the Doctor and Benny when they first met: death in the Games is his mother's legacy.
the Games are death in an hourglass. all Benny can do is watch.
#yes ''Death In An Hourglass'' is in fact the title of this au in my head#thank u justin richards#also feel free to ask anything else you want to know about this bc who knows if I'll ever fully write it#but I'm very fond of this au so.#Lu rambles#asks#dweu#doctor who expanded universe#bs#thg#bernice summerfield#seventh doctor#ace mcshane#hex schofield#irving braxiatel#lu don't lose this#dweu thg au#death in an hourglass
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“Small talk”
Peter Parker x Vigilante!Reader
NSFW
Warnings: Smut
"Like wolves, we've run wild, let passion get too much, let ourselves get burned by the fire"
Small Talk - Niall Horan
Peter knows it's a bad idea, you are nothing but trouble. But just because he has spidey sense, doesn't mean he has common sense... 🔥
MY MASTERLIST
"Bad idea kid" Tony's voice reached his ears from somewhere at his left, but not even then did he broke eye contact with you. He couldn't. He was paralized, mesmerized, drawn like a moth to a flame. You had been looking at him across the ballroom all night, a vision in your little white number, like an angel with lightning in her eyes… He wanted you, the realization hitting him like a brick.
A hand was waved in front of his face,
"Peter, are you even listening to me?"
He made a non committal hum.
Tony sighed,
"Look, I know you've been through a lot lately. I mean, Michelle practically left you on the altar-"
"Do not" He finally turned to his mentor, tone as cold as his gaze, "say her name. Ever."
"Ok, kid, I won't" Tony raised his hands in surrender, "All I'm saying is, I know everything sucks right now, and you might be feeling a little... reckless and self destructive. And normally I would say go for it, a little rebound sex never killed anyone but in that case" he motioned in your direction with his head, "in that case it just might"
"What do you mean?" You were dancing now, and Tony was loosing Peter's attention fast,
"They call her Cut-Throat" he said, straight to the point, "and she's with those wackjobs from Hell's Kitchen. EDITH identified her right away. Trust me on this one, kid. She's got the wrong kind of crazy"
Yes, Peter could feel that, his spidey sense had been going haywire all night. But he liked it. He liked the dress you were wearing, and he liked the way you talked, and he liked the way you were dancing. He liked you, and he hadn't felt that way about anyone in a while.
He hadn't felt that way about anything actually, ever since MJ…
But now? Now he wanted to run wild, wanted to misbehave at least once in his responsibility filled existence. He wanted to know what it was like to let the passion get the best of him.
He wanted to play with fire, and get burned.
"I'm not a kid anymore, Tony" He cut his mentor off, a little harshly "I have a PhD, I think I'm old enough to know what I'm doing"
"One would think so, and yet…" Tony muttered, grumpily, watching his protegee disappear in the ocean of people on the dance floor.
Peter, on the other hand, was trying not to freak out. Despite his big talk, he was half expecting Tony to follow him, to stop him, but it was too late now: You had seen him making his way to you and now you were walking to him, still staring at him like he was something to eat. And he couldn't run, couldn't hide, not when he wanted so badly to be devoured. Looking at your wolfish smile, he couldn't help but wonder if that's what rabbits felt, right before being gobbled up.
"Hello"
"Hi"
"Want to get out of here?"
Just like that, no small talk. Before he even knew it, the elevator doors were closing behind him and you were on him, smashing your lips against his, pushing him back against the wall, setting his skin on fire everywhere it met yours. And god help him, but the burn was better, so much better than the raw, biting cold he had felt ever since MJ had left him on his knees in the dark. Helpless, with nothing but that unforgiving, bone freezing emptiness.
He fisted his hands on the silk of your dress, bringing you closer, impossibly closer, holding onto your heat as his mouth left yours to suck a bruise on your neck. The helpless little noise that left your throat made his head swim, lips traveling south in their quest to coax more of those pretty noises out of you.
"Fuck!" You cursed as his mouth closed around your nipple over the flimsy fabric.
Peter smiled. He had been wanting to do that all night, his super sight letting him see everything through the sheer fabric of your dress when the light hitted you just right. Your fingers tangled in his soft curls, trying to keep his head where you wanted it, but he was strong, almost unnaturally so. In an instant you were the one against the steel wall, caged between it and his hard body.
One hand at the back of your knee, and soon he was lifting your leg, wrapping it around his hips, opening you up to him, as he grinded his pelvis against yours, making you moan, the sound resonating in the tiny elevator.
"Bet I can make you come just like this" He breathed out, hot against your ear, "rubbing my cock against your pussy through our clothes"
"Fuck yes!"
"You want that, don't you angel?" Peter bit back a moan of his own, still rolling his hips, "Want to be a good girl and come for me…"
"Not really a good girl"
You pushed back against the wall, angling your hips, rocking them faster, chasing your peak. Peter's eyes rolled back inside his head, hands flying to your hip bones, helping you move.
"But you're still gonna come for me, aren't you?"
There it was again, the sharp smile, all teeth and danger,
"Make me"
He attacked your lips again, tongue slipping inside your mouth as his hand slipped underneath your skirt. He found his goal, fingers teasing you over your panties,
"So wet for me already, angel?" He marveled, and you gulped for air. God, he knew how to kiss. You couldn't wait to see what else that talented tongue of his could do.
"You made me wait too long…" You pouted, watching in satisfaction as his eyes zeroed on your lips and his eyes turned even darker. He retaliated by tugging your thong to the side, sliding two fingers inside your wet, velvety heat. Your pretty lips opened in a perfect little O, and he had the dirtiest of visions, of you on your knees, taking his length into that gorgeous, delicious mouth of yours. He licked into your open mouth, filthily.
"It's ok, angel, I got you now"
He could feel it coming, you muscles tensing, your fingers digging into his shoulders, wetness bathing his hand…
But the elevator came to a halt, and a ding announced you had arrived to your floor. He took his fingers out of you, licking them clean one by one, chuckling when you cried out your frustration.
"Shut up" You snickered, grabbing him by his tie, dragging him like a puppy on a leash all the way to your room.
Peter plastered himself to your back as soon as you both reached your door, making the task of unlocking it rather difficult, with him nibbling on the back of your neck, the curve of your shoulders, lowering the straps of your dress…
You felt his impressive hardness against your lower back, and you couldn't hold back the wanton whimper that left your lips.
"Hurry up, angel, or I'm taking you right here against this door" You believed him, what with his hands slowly bunching your skirt up.
The door opened abruptly, making you practically fall into the room, but with quick reflexes, he caught you in his arms.
"I told you I got you, angel"
You scoffed, deciding to make use of your full strength, surprising him by turning the both of you around and pushing him, so he fell flat on his back on the bed.
His eyes widened in surprise.
"I'm no angel, baby boy"
Peter wholeheartedly disagreed. He didn't think he had ever seen something more beautiful than you right then, eyes on fire as you let your dress fall, mischievous smirk promising a world of trouble.
You straddled his waist, helping him get rid of his suit coat and his shirt, stopping short at the wide shoulders and defined chest you found underneath. It was his turn to smirk, as he snaked his big, big arms around your waist and twirled you on the bed, so you were the one trapped between the mattress and his powerful body.
"And I am no boy"
His mouth found yours again, Irresistible and addictive, something long forgotten inside him reawakening with every drag of your soft lips against his, every taste of your tongue on his. Your hands grabbed onto his biceps as he went for your neck again, making sure of sucking hard enough to break blood vessels under your skin and leave behind a dark, deep mark that would not fade quickly. He continued his way south, until he reached the top of your breast. He admired the softness and the color of your skin there, a perfect blank canvass. He bit down, with bruising force.
Peter didn't know why he was being so rough with you, he had always been so careful, so tender with MJ. Always letting her take the lead, so aware of her fragility compared to him, always afraid of hurting her if he let himself get too carried away. He shook himself, he had already spent too many nights, to many hours, too many thoughts on her. He didn't want to waste another, not with your exquisite body under his, so pliant and willing. So eager to take all he was capable of giving you.
Your hands had gone to his head again as soon as he had dug his teeth in, not pushing him away but pulling him closer. Yeah, you could definitely take it.
You were a sobbing, squirming mess, as he trailed kisses and bites down your body,
"Stay still for me, angel" he quipped, annoyed at having to pause on his way to his ultimate goal, "or I'll have to tie you to the bed"
You chuckled,
"Kiny. But sadly I don't have any ropes…"
A whooshing sound was the only warning you had before you found your right hand stuck to the headboard with what looked suspiciously like a spider web. You turned your wide eyes on him.
"Spider-man?" You gasped, astonished. He offered you his wrist, and you took it with your free hand, turning it this way and the other, examining the sophisticated device you had first mistaken for a bracelet.
"Peter"
"What?" Your gaze returned to his handsome face in the dark.
"My name is Peter" He smiled, and you could swear the room lit up.
"Y/n" You confessed, giving him your real name instead of the false identity you had used to enter the party.
"Y/n" He repeated, trying it out "Much prettier than Cut-throat"
He knew who you were. Of course. But you knew who he was too, so maybe it wasn't so bad. He could have kept silent, kept the advantage, but instead he had evened the field. You were equals now, in every way. But more than that, something inside you told you you could trust him. A gut feeling, like those Matt kept talking about.
He was one of the good guys after all.
You offered him your free hand, and if his smile had been bright before, now it was blinding. He kissed your open palm reverently, before sticking it to the headboard next to the other one.
Peter kneeled on the bed, between your open legs, admiring you.
"Have you got any idea" he whispered, fingertips tracing your body, "how beautiful you look like this, all tied up and naked, just for me?"
His hands cupped your breasts, thumbs playing with your nipples with just the right pressure to send shivers up and down your body.
"I wanted to play with you, to tease you, make you beg for it" like a spider playing with the helpless fly trapped in its web, "but I don't think I can wait any longer. I want you so bad…"
"But I am begging," You breathed out, arching your back, pushing yourself into his hands, "please, Peter. Please just fuck me"
He hooked his fingers on the waistband of your ruined underwear.
"Say it again baby"
"Fuck me, Peter, please"
He dragged your panties down your legs, helping you untangle them when they got stuck on your hills. He truly had never seen something so sexy, so sinful. And neither had you, once he had made quick work of his pants and underwear, wrapping his own hand around his impressive member, pumping once, twice, three times when he noticed your unwavering, unabashed stare.
"Now you're just showing off…"
Peter laughed,
"Maybe. Like what you see?"
Your eyes traveled to the sharp, popping veins of his hands, perfectly matching the ones on his angry red length.
"Yeah" You admitted, "yeah, I do"
His boyish grin had no place in a situation like this, but somehow it fitted better than any lecherous look could.
"I changed my mind" he declared, pushing your legs open, "maybe just a taste"
"What? Peter no" you whined, petulant, "I want to feel you! Now!"
"I don't think you understand, baby:" his hot breath fanned over your center, "You're mine tonight. Completely at my mercy…"
He flattened his tongue, licking a long strip over your slit before closing his lips around your pearl and sucking softly, tearing a surprised cry out of you. He was every bit as good as you thought he would be, but you had something else in mind.
"Please, please Peter… I want-" You were panting as he kept on devouring you, the movements of the mattress near your feet making it quite obvious he was touching himself as he ate you, "I want your cock… I want to… I want to come around your cock"
He mumbled something unintelligible, burying his face deeper, sucking harder. You felt his strong, thick tongue make its way inside you, eagerly lapping at your overly sweet juices. It was too much, and you tried to close your legs, to make him stop, but only succeeded in bringing him closer, deeper. You couldn't handle it, the way he was playing your body like a well loved instrument, coaxing the pleasure out of you too fast. And he didn't even need to stop for air. You tried to hold back your orgasm, tried to control it but it was in vain, soon it was crashing over you like a wave, a tsunami, leaving you exhausted, muscles aching by the sudden onslaught of inhuman bliss thrusted upon them.
You were still riding high on your crest when Peter crawled his way up your body, burying himself inside you in one thrust, hissing at the way your walls squeezed him almost too tight. He only gave the both of you a couple of seconds to get used to it before starting to move. Like in the elevator, you tilted your hips to him, offering yourself up, giving him more access. It was the sweetest torture, feeling him so big, so deep, every thrust electrifying your body, making it come alight again, for him.
And he, he couldn't get enough, couldn't control himself, not when you felt so heavenly. He wanted, no, he needed, to give it to you. Every last, shattered piece of what was left of him. Until it was all gone. Until he couldn't remember his name, couldn't remember her name. Until all that was left was you, and the way you felt around his cock, the way your body fitted in his hands, the way your screamed his name into the night, over and over and over again. Cause it sounded different from your lips, sounded brand new, sounded… pure.
There, covered in sweat, grunting obscenely, debasing both you and himself in the dirtiest, most animalistic fucking, he felt alive like he hadn't in years. Maybe ever.
Peter's gaze fixed on you again, tugging at your restraints, hair a halo around your head, cheeks flushed, lips red and swollen. Breathing hard. The loveliest thing he had ever caught in his web. Your sobs and moans inter mingling with his own, were the most pornographic thing he had heard in his life, your hips moving to meet his, wet sounds of skin slapping skin filling the room… and you still looked like an angel.
"Peter…" You cried out. He was so deep you could feel him in every cell of your body, his cock touching places you didn't even knew you had, stretching you almost painfully but not quite, just enough to make you question your sanity, to drive you wild, to keep you begging for more even if you couldn't really take it.
"You feel so good angel" he was talking in your ear, hips never stopping, cock pounding into you without mercy, "gonna come for me again? Gonna let me feel it?..."
You wanted to shake your head, to say no, you weren't that kind of woman, the kind that could come more than once, but you wanted so badly to be good for him. For once in your life, you wanted to be good.
"Ugh… come on, give it to me baby girl… fuck you feel so good… like heaven on my cock"
"Peter!"
His thumb found your clit, rubbing messily, with no rhythm or finesse. No, he was too close for that, but he wanted you to come with him, needed the both of you to fall together.
"You still have one more to give, don't you angel? You said it… said you wanted to come on my cock…"
You sobbed, weakly. You could feel all the muscles in your body lock again, the coil inside you tightening. You were at his mercy, just like he had said, there was nothing you could do to resist it, and you knew, you just knew that by the time this orgasm hitted you, there were gonna be tears in your eyes, for the sheer intensity, the-
"Yeah, like that… just like that… I can feel it… come for me angel, now!"
As on command, you felt your muscles contract and relax, every single one of your nerve endings exploding with bone shattering force. One last thrust and grunt above you, and Peter went lax, falling bonelessly next to you.
"Oh… oh, god!.. That was…"
You gigled, breathlessly,
"Yeah… I know…"
"How… how do you feel? Are you ok? How are your arms?"
"Peter, stop freaking out, I'm ok, I promise" You tried to reach for his face but your hands were still tied to the headboard.
"You sure?"
You stretched on the bed, arching your back like a cat and Peter couldn't help the way his eyes wandered to your breasts.
"I'm better than ever"
He got up anyway, fetching a wet towel to clean you up and a bottle of orange juice from the minibar that he helped you drink. He then threw the cover over both your bodies, cuddling with you.
"So" you started, trying to get a look up at your still bound hands, "how long does this thing usually lasts"
Peter flinched,
"About three hours…"
"THREE HOURS??"
He drowned your indignant cry with a kiss, not stopping until he felt you relax under his body again.
"I'm sure I can find ways to keep you entertained until then…"
You captured his bottom lip, nibbling softly before releasing him,
"And I was thinking, you don't have to leave after. I mean, it's gonna be way too late for you to go, this city is kinda dangerous at night…"
Peter smirked,
"I know… lot of baddies out there at night…"
"And weirdos in costume…" He swallowed the rest of your sentence, coaxing your mouth open with his gifted tongue, deepening the kiss. And you knew.
He was going to stay forever.
The end.
#peter parker#peter parker x reader#peter parker smut#peter parker reader smut#peter parker x reader smut#peter parker imagine#hot peter parker imagine#tom holland#tom holland x reader#tom holland reader smut#tom holland x reader smut#hot tom holland imagine#tom holland imagine#peter parker x reader fanfiction#tom holland x reader fanfiction
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Sex Pollen Part 2
Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader
Summary: Peter has to deal with the effects of the sex pollen plant while you have to make a decision on what to do
A/N: okay this is by far the most popular fic I ever wrote. I had a lot of problems with trying to tag everyone so I'm really sorry if I couldn't get you in, tumblr just kinda gave up towards the end of the list.
Warning: Language, Masturbation
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"You what!" Tony hissed.
You sat down on the end of the couch next to Thor as Bruce explained to your dad the events that had taken place only minutes before, while you were fidgeting with the sleeve of your sweater.
"I know." Bruce said. "I screwed up-"
"Screwed up!? Bruce you gave the kid alien viagra!" He shouted. His eyes snapped to you. "And you- what were you doing in an unsupervised lab!?"
You scoffed. "How was I supposed to know Banner brought an alien sex plant into the tower."
Tony ignored your comment, going back to Bruce, "How do we fix this? I'm not really up to telling his aunt that we've made her nephew basically go into heat."
Bruce chuckled nervously. "See, uh, that's the thing. The cure is, uh- it's uh- it's"
"Sex." Thor finished.
Tony sighed. "Of course it is." He grumbled. "Do we know if he has a girlfriend or something?" He asked.
"Well actually," Bruce cut in. "The plant kinda gives off the scent of the person you like, so it can only be with the girl who's scent he smelled on the plant."
"Okay, do we know who it is? Hopefully a girl that he already knows intimately, because I'm not letting some poor girl that barely knows him go in there."
Bruce looked away nervously, while you stared intently at your hands, your cheeks heating up. Even Thor didn't seem like the one who wanted to be the one to tell him.
Tony noticed the strange looks on everyone's faces. "What? Who is it?"
"You're not gonna like it." Bruce warned.
Tony narrowed his eyes. "Bruce, who is it?"
Bruce glanced towards you, making Tony follow his line of sight. Tony's eyes widened. "Are you telling me there's a horny teenage boy trying to mount my daughter."
You groaned loudly, "Oh my God, dad, don't say mount!"
Bruce scratched the back of his neck. "Kinda."
"Yeah, absolutely not. We're gonna have to find another way."
"You may want to reconsider that Stark." Thor said. "I noticed the spider has been getting worse and it's only been twenty minutes. I think his powers may be speeding up the process."
"And what happens if this pollen stays in his system?"
"It would become increasingly painful and uncomfortable for him. Possibly causing trauma."
Tony let out an annoyed breath. "Is there anything else I should know about this plant?"
Thor hummed in thought. "From what I know about the plant, the pollen affects the body the person affects the mind."
Tony blinked. "Okay, try that in English now."
"The pollen will only affect his body, but he'll still be able to think clearly. But if (Y/N) goes near him, he won't be able to think straight. So as long as the two stay apart he won't become a danger to Lady (Y/N)." Silence filled the room as Tony thought about what to do, but the silence was quickly ended by Thor adding his two cents. "But I do think it'd be wiser to send Lady (Y/N) in there."
"Okay how 'bout you leave the problem solving to the scientist's. Just go throw out the shrubbery Point Break." Tony said, sending Thor off. He turned to you now. "And you young lady are going to your room. And I don't want you going anywhere near the nymphomaniac. Understood."
"Understood." You echoed, rolling your eyes before heading up to your bedroom. "Oh and only women are nymphomaniac's, it's a different word for guys." You called back sarcastically over your shoulder.
"Yeah whatever." He muttered back, off to the lab.
~~~~~~~~
Peter was convinced that he was going to die in a lust driven haze.
The first few hours of being locked in his room was torture. The second he was tossed into the room, he tried to break down the door, finding that Tony Stark was very thorough with the structure of the tower, making it impossible for it to budge even under his super strength. That was when he had resorted to banging on the door and begging to be let out, begging for you.
But when that was deemed useless, his attention turned to just how uncomfortably hard he was. He leaned his head against the door, squeezing his eyes shut, groaning as he palmed himself, aiming for any type of relief no matter how minimal it would be.
"Peter." He heard you say breathily against his ear.
His eyes snapped open, looking to his left, before realizing it wasn't real. That it was just his mind running wild. That he had to be hallucinating now.
But nevertheless, he rest his head back against the door, shutting his eyes. Because a hallucination of you was better than nothing at all.
"Peter." You whispered against his ear, lips barely touching the shell of his ear, your breath making goosebumps rise. "Please, Peter." You whined, hands coming up around his waist, your head falling against his neck. "I need you."
Peter's eyes shot wide open, and he got up, bolting to his bed. Kicking off his shoes and shedding his shirt in the process. He fell onto his bed, hands flying to undo his pants, pushing them down, boxers and all. His cock sprung up, the tip red and swollen with drops of precum forming. His head fell back against the pillow, and he closed his eyes once again, throwing an arm over them. His free hand gripping himself tightly.
You laid next to him, trailing kisses down his neck.
You were far from real, but you were still able to make it feel like he was suffocating. His hand starting to slide up and down, to the thought of you.
Peter gripped your chin, pulling you up, crashing your lips against his. He took control of the situation quickly, he needed to or else it would drive him insane with your incessant light touches.
He flipped the two of you over, now sitting between your legs. Your body clad only in a pair of panties. His gaze devoured you. Peter trailed a hand down over your breast, pinching a nipple before ghosting over your stomach, and lightly stroking you over your underwear. The reaction was immediate, your hips bucked against his hand, searching for any kind of friction, as you let out a high pitched moan.
"Please," you whined. "I need you so bad." You practically cried.
It was like his brain went into overdrive from that point on.
He wasn't able to focus on one thing in particular. Flashes of you writhing underneath him as he fucked you into the mattress. Images of you on top, underneath him, on your stomach, on your knees.
Your voice whining, moaning, screaming his name begging for a release.
His hand sped up, causing him to buck his hips into his own grasp. He moaned loudly, alerting anyone that happened to walk past the bedroom to know exactly what was happening. He moaned your name over and over again, amongst an array of profanities as well. His sweat drenched skin, beginning to stick to the sheets of the bed.
Nails digging into his shoulders, your entire body tensing up as you got closer and closer to the edge, breathing ragged and rough. Then your head falling back into the pillow, arching your back as you finally came with a scream of his name.
As he finally came with a scream of your name.
Peter panted harshly, now covered in his own cum and sweat. Relief flooding his senses.
But only for a few minutes, before he was unbelievably hard again.
Peter let out a broken sob of frustration as an even stronger flood of arousal took over every one of his senses. And he still found that the one person that would have been able to satiate him wasn't there.
-
Peter had no idea how long he was there for, but by the time his head started to clear, he noted that it was already nighttime. Meaning he had wasted the entire afternoon jerking off to thoughts of you.
The moment his body had spent enough time away from you his head started to clear, his brain no longer dealing with the heavy fog that had been there since he smelled that fucking plant.
And Peter couldn't tell which was worse.
He was immediately filled with a sense of guilt and embarassment at his actions, but he still needed to touch himself because he felt like he'd catch on fire if he didn't.
And because he was still so fucking hard.
He had no idea how many times he had came that afternoon, the sheets drying with his own cum as more of it was cooling on his thighs and stomach. And he still hadn't felt any better, in fact he was starting to feel even worse.
He laid in bed with the shame eating away at him. It was hot and stuffy, he felt like he couldn't breathe and he was dripping sweat. He found that with any slight movement that caused the bed sheets to rub against his skin he had to fight back a pitiful moan, self conscious now by how loud he had been during the day.
Yes, Peter was sure that this was how he was going to die.
What an embarrassing ending to a superhero, he thought.
~~~~~~
You sat uncomfortably in the kitchen. The rest of the Avengers, Nat, Bucky, Steve, Sam, Thor, and Wanda had gathered for dinner, some choosing to sit at the table, or lean against the counter or wall. You personally chose to sit on the kitchen counter, away from the rest.
It was awkwardly quiet at dinner. Just ten minutes ago Peter seemed to quiet down, you hoped that maybe he fell asleep.
You were incredibly self conscious while everyone ate. You hadn't expected Peter to be so loud.
Everyone knew exactly what had happened that afternoon.
They kinda had to, he had been screaming and moaning your name and curses at the top of his lungs for four hours straight.
Your dad had stayed in the lab with Bruce to try and figure out a cure, and because he didn't care for hearing his protege crying out for his daughter.
"So." Bucky started, finally breaking the awkward silence. "He seems excited."
You groaned. "Shut up."
Bucky laughed. "You plan on joining him anytime soon?"
You blushed hard, staring at your dinner.
"Leave her alone Buck." Steve said.
"Oh I'm just kidding." Bucky responded back.
"So what happened again?" Sam asked, still thoroughly confused by the situation.
"Bruce brought back an alien plant from your mission last week." You started. "And this kind of plant is used for their breeding process. Peter smelled it and now, well..." You finished awkwardly.
"He wants to fuck?" Bucky asked.
You cleared your throat. "Basically, yeah."
"Hey, here's a question." Nat said. "What the hell are your dad and Bruce doing? If this is normal for those aliens shouldn't there already be a way to reverse it?"
Thor exhaled loudly, gaining everyone's attention. "I suppose I'll explain it again. The only cure is for the Spider to have sex with Lady (Y/N). I doubt Stark and Banner are going to find another cure anytime soon."
You stared intently at your dinner as the others processed the new information.
"Then." Bucky said. "Why doesn't (Y/N) just go up there and, y'know. I mean it sounds like he could use it."
Your face was so warm and you felt so embarrassed, this wasn't a conversation you ever hoped to experience with them. "My dad would never let that happen, and plus what about consent. I doubt Peter's in any state to consent to that- I mean not saying that I would even help him!" You yelped. "Not that I wouldn't if he really needed it but-"
Thor cut you off. "Actually, you would be able to get his full consent. Remember when I said that the person affects the mind. If the Spider has gone long enough without you near him, he'd be in a perfectly good state of mind to give his consent."
"How's he supposed to consent if she can't go near him?" Steve asked
Thor shrugged. "Send someone to talk to him."
"There, problem solved." Bucky said with a grin, looking at you.
"Okay!" You yelped. "Can we just slow down for a second. My dad is gonna figure this out, and there will be no need for me to... y'know."
"Well actually." Thor said again. "Depending on how long it takes there could be some lasting effects on him."
"What kind of lasting effects?" You asked skeptically.
"I'm not entirely sure, but I'd imagine he's feeling a lot of shame right now but his body is still reacting to the pollen. I imagine that can be difficult for the brain to process."
"Great." You muttered sarcastically. "Can this day get any better?"
Bucky chuckled. "Well technically it could-"
"Oh shut it Bucky." You snapped.
Wanda studied you for a second before she cleared her throat, "(Y/N), Nat. Can we talk privately for a second."
Dread washed over you, no doubt already knowing that Wanda looked inside your head. You nodded your head and followed the two women out of the kitchen, regardless.
Wanda took the two of you into her bedroom, making sure the bedroom door was locked before turning to you.
"You don't think your father is going to fix it." Wanda said.
You groaned in frustration. "Wanda, I told you to stop looking in my head." You complained, throwing yourself onto your bed.
Nat sighed, sitting down next to you. "Alright, kid. What do you wanna do about this? Do you really believe Thor is right?"
You grunted out a yes. "I trust Thor more when it comes to these alien things. And I'm just scared for Peter. Even if they do figure it out, who knows how long it'll take. We don't even know how this'll affect Peter."
"Would you help him the way Thor suggested?" Wanda asked.
You became flustered. "I-I- guess- he's my friend, and he needs help."
Wanda snorted. "That and you've liked him for two years."
You sat up quickly and looked at Wanda. "Stop with the mind reading already."
Wanda smirked. "I didn't read your mind for that one, it was just a lucky guess."
You huffed, falling back down onto the bed.
"(Y/N)." Nat said, gaining your attention again. "You and Peter are both consenting adults now. Okay? If you truly think you have a better shot at helping him than your dad, maybe you should trust your gut. I'm not telling you what to do, your consent is just as important as his. All I'm saying is to really consider your options on this, and do whatever you're the most comfortable with. Alright?"
You bit your lip, nodding your head. "O-okay. But my dad-"
"Forget about him. Peter's your friend, do what you think's best."
You nodded again. "I just need to think for a bit."
"Of course." Nat smiled.
You thanked Wanda and Nat, before heading to your own room to think about the situation.
But honestly,
You were pretty sure you had already .made up your mind.
------------------------------------
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If you're still taking prompts maybe college Peter who has a newborn (up to you how that happened) no one but his close friends know about and one day he has to take him to class for some reason and the baby won't stop crying and Flash is being a dick and people are getting annoyed but professor Tony just asks if he can hold him for him and does so for the rest of the lecture and the baby chills out (an extra if you're into more peter whump maybe he's very much struggling to deal on his own?)
do the thing - send in all the prompts.
I really liked this one - I saw the original video of this idea and it was real heart warming.
warnings: underage drinking, minor character death
word count: ~3k
Peter never imagined a singular night of stupidity would change his life forever. Right before winter break of his senior year, Peter had the sudden epiphany that girls were not for him. He and Ned were looking at a The Rise of Skywalker magazine – a typical Saturday night for the two of them. Ned went on and on about how hot Daisy Ridley was, how her badass temperament made her even sexier – but Peter couldn’t take his eyes off the shots of Ben Skywalker. It wasn’t until Ned shoved his shoulder into his side that Peter noticed his own radio silence.
Though he pretended to shake it off for Ned’s sake, his mind kept playing on that fact over and over again. A part of him always wondered why he never got that excited about the dirty magazines the guys would pass around the locker room – or why dates with girls never ended up working out quite right. Some of his best friends were girls that he thought might make the perfect girlfriend, when in fact, they were the perfect friend, instead. It didn’t bother him so much as surprise him – the thought never crossed his mind before, but now – it was the only thing he could think about.
When Ned brought up a party MJ mentioned at lunch earlier, Peter jumped on the chance – it seemed like the perfect place to test out his new theory. Maybe if he just gave himself a chance to like a girl – it would all work out.
That was his first mistake.
The next occurred when he let Ned put cup after cup of whatever he found on the drink table in his hand. The last time Peter attempted to drink, he passed out with his pants down in the middle of MJ’s bathroom – upon reflection, he hoped that would have kept him from repeating the same disastrous action.
It seemed he had not had enough punishment for his stupidity – only this time, the result was not incriminating pictures and laughed away stories.
Waking up the next morning, Peter groaned as the world spun around him when he sat up. Blurry eyes took in the room around him and immediately felt panic. The soft violet on the walls was not the normal drab white of Ned’s bedroom, and the comforter pulled over his hips was certainly not the Batman one that his best friend kept spread across his bed. And the person next to him most certain was not Ned. In fact, he couldn’t even remember who the hell it actually was.
He slipped out of bed as quietly as he could, his head still spinning slightly. His naked body clued him in on what exactly went down last night, though no memories of it were able to surface. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to understand the whirlwind of clothes on the floor and the odd soreness in the small of his back to understand what took place. Stepping into his clothes, Peter pulled out the little notebook he kept in his jeans pocket and tore out a page – his half-drunk brain barely able to translate a legible note.
In leaving his number, he never assumed the girl would actually get back to him. He couldn’t even remember her name – he still didn’t recall what happened that night. That’s why it was a total shock when she called, her voice a little shaky as she read his own note to him – each word one he remembered putting down on the paper. He clenched his jaw a little and stayed on the phone, the girl he now knew as Stacy had something to tell him. And man did he regret not hanging up the damn phone.
All of his plans to leave and head to MIT were put on hold the second he found out he was going to be a father. He felt May’s heart break across the room later that night when he told her the news. She wanted him to get out of here and do bigger and better things just as much as Peter did – probably even more so, if he thought a little bit about it.
The hug she gave him felt a little bittersweet. They cried together and then stood back up and made a plan. There were a lot of things that needed to happen before a new little person could take up residence in their small apartment.
It turned out that Stacy was a couple of years older than him and trying to navigate her way through NYU classes. She was a nice person and wouldn’t be too bad of a person to raise a child with. Peter told her up front that their time together was a mistake – that even after finding out about their soon-to-be son, he still didn’t think there’d be a chance for them.
It felt good to jump that hurdle before things got too complicated when the kid did actually come around. She seemed perfectly happy to share the parenting duties – it didn’t hurt that she fit in pretty nicely with May, either; the girls were always whispering about this thing or that whenever he and Stacy got together to go to appointments.
Seeing his baby’s face on the monitor every time they went in for a check up kept things in perspective for him. When May had to check him out of classes to make appointments, his stomach rolled a little – there were so many opportunities he was missing, and the kid wasn’t even there yet.
The heartbeat and promise of little hands that would wrap around his made it all worth it, though. He never thought about being a dad, there wasn’t time in a 17-year-old’s life for that. With it now on his doorstep, Peter’s brain wouldn’t shut down and think about anything else.
There was so much anxiety built up around whether he could be a good dad with very little resources and a singular aunt that would support him through anything, but had a life of her own to live, too. His deferment of his MIT acceptance chipped at the resolve he tried to build each day the arrival of his son got more and more near. Peter let himself be happy with the fact that he could still go to college at all. NYU was better than nothing.
When Atlas came around, it was with a mixture of joy and sadness. Right after holding him for the first time, Stacy simply dropped back against the hospital bed, her eyes shutting uselessly. Peter looked around with the newborn baby still in his arms, the beeping of machines and rush of people in the room making the boy wail – the stimulus almost too much for Peter himself. It never occurred to him that one moment would be the last time he or Atlas saw her. In one fell swoop, Peter became a father and sole provider to the tiniest human he’d ever seen.
The transition wasn’t very easy, either. There weren’t romantic feelings between him and Stacy, but she was the mother to his child, the person he’d come to know pretty well over the past 9 months. An aneurism seemed silly in a 19-year-old girl – yet, it took her all the same. One of Atlas’s first days outside of the hospital was spent in the small cemetery her estranged uncle picked to bury her in. He declined Peter’s invitation to hold Atlas and got in his car the second the ceremony was over.
Just like that, Peter had a three-day-old and the impending start of college classes. He assumed sometime in the near future he needed to get a job, too – but he could only handle a couple of big things at a time. Getting the baby settled and into a routine seemed like the most important thing, so he focused on that. May helped the first couple of days – her chill nature a little frayed now that a screaming child kept them both awake at night.
Atlas was just shy of a week old when Peter started classes at NYU. 3 of the 4 he signed up to take were cookie cutter prerequisites and general education classes. The pick of the loot as a freshman was not very rich. He did manage to snag a Biophysics class, though – his AP credit getting him something a least.
The professor was a gorgeous man with a neat goatee and the softest eyes. He spoke with authority and the distinctness that came from being extremely knowledgeable about the thing he talked about frequently. Peter spent a lot of his time in Professor Tony’s class alternating between drooling over how stunning he was and daydreaming about how much fun they could have together – if the older man would appreciate being called daddy the same way Peter wanted so much to say it.
The most standout piece of Mr. Stark came from the kindness he treated all of his students with. Peter absentmindedly forgot to turn in the week’s homework and wrote an embarrassingly long and blathering message about this and that as an excuse – and if he could please, for the love of god, turn the damn thing in. Tony’s response was swift and gentle, the man allowing him a couple more days to get it in without deducting any points. When it happened again the second week, he pushed the deadline back for Peter and the rest of the class. In all the unluckiness, Peter was surprised to find such a caring person in the most unlikely of places.
The next week, Peter was shaken awake by May, a distraught look on her face. “I know that you have class today, but I can’t keep the baby. I got called into work. I’m sorry, Pete,” May said softly, her eyes trying to stay soft, to stay under control the same way she’d always been. Blinking, Peter sat up a little – the sleep clung to him tightly, the crustiness in the corner of his eye making it hard to keep his eyes open. Atlas still wasn’t sleeping very well and there’d been many hours of rocking the night before.
“Okay. I got him. Thanks, May,” Peter replied blearily, his hand moving up to brush at his eyes. It took another minute or two to come around, then Peter was out of bed and moving into the kitchen – his body putting together a bottle and some things into a bag on autopilot.
He could probably change the baby’s diaper with his eyes closed now, too. Taking care of Atlas was all he’d done for weeks now, his classes the only thing that gave him sanctuary. Now, he didn’t even get to have that. Blowing out a breath, Peter got into the shower and got clean before Atlas was up and crankily crying out for him.
The idea of staying home didn’t hit him until about ten minutes into class when Atlas would not stop crying. The decision to take him came when he noticed that they were just a couple class periods away from the exam – he wasn’t sure how Tony tested and didn’t want to miss anything.
Atlas didn’t make a peep their entire walk over and when he sat down, he figured that trend would continue. After twenty minutes of it and Flash Thompson turning around three times to tell him to shut his kid up, Peter started to get out of his seat. It’d been a stupid idea in the first place.
All of the sudden, Professor Stark was in his row, his hands out in front of him. “I’ll take him. Do you have a bottle? I can feed him and talk at the same time,” Tony said, his face split with a soft grin. The man stepped a little closer and crouched down, his fingers wiggling in front of Atlas’s face. “What’s his name, Pete?”
Not knowing what else to do and suddenly so very grateful for the man, Peter turned the boy’s carrier and happily handed Tony his son – the older man cradled him carefully and stood up. He looked good with a baby in his arms. Peter reached out to give him a bottle and their fingers touched – a delicate zing that Peter couldn’t ever remember feeling before shot up his arm and settled in his chest. “Come talk to me later.” He flashed Peter a smile and started back down the stairs to the front of the lecture hall.
He tried to pay attention, he really did – but it was hard to focus when Tony was holding Atlas so delicately and swaying back and forth to mock a rocking motion. True to his word, the man continued to lecture – the normal talking with his hands transferred to his face, instead. His eyebrows hiked up his forehead and quirked to run a severe line between them while he spoke – the entire experience of it a little bit overwhelming.
Atlas finished the bottle a little bit into the more intense parts of the lecture – Tony simply put him against his chest and started to burp him while he described the math problem they were currently looking at on the projector.
The whole thing was too much and not nearly enough all at one time. It felt like a tease, seeing just how good the gorgeous man could be with someone so precious to him. The part of Peter that yearned for help like that made him want to cry – his eyes watering a few times throughout the rest of the lecture.
Flash looked back once when Peter was wiping at his eye and called him a pussy – the word not having nearly as much bite as it would have before Atlas came around. He was a father with a lot of shit on his plate – and far from the type of person that would run away from his problems.
For the rest of the lecture, Peter kept his eyes on the sleeping baby in Tony’s arms – of course he would be quiet for a complete stranger. Though, Peter understood the ability to be comfortable in the older man’s presence, he felt that way himself. Getting up when Tony dismissed everyone, Peter climbed down the stairs and put the carrier by his feet, a hesitant smile on his face. “Professor Stark, you have no idea how sorry I am,” Peter started, his words immediately cut off by Tony’s hand raising.
“Don’t apologize. You needed some help, so I gave it to you. Besides, Atlas and I are pals. He didn’t throw up on me,” Tony remarked, his eyes pinching at the corners as a stunning smile slipped across his face. “He can’t be too old. How are you coping with classes and a newborn?”
Without really knowing what was happening, Peter started to cry – the question making all of the thoughts he’d been holding back crash down over his head. He wasn’t coping – he did his best to survive and that was it.
Peter loved the hell out of Atlas, but parenting was not for young people. There was a deeply engrained need to make sure other people did not make the same mistake he did – having a child was absolutely no fucking joke.
Peter felt an arm wrap around him, the smell of cedar wood and something he couldn’t quite place invading his senses. Atlas was still fast asleep in Tony’s arms – the baby’s feet pressing into him a little when the other pulled him close. There wasn’t enough energy in him to feel embarrassed – it felt good to be held, so he leaned into the comfort of Tony’s arms.
“It’s alright, Pete. Let me help you.” Tony muttered the words softly, his tone of voice just as much for Peter as it was for the small baby in his arms. “I can take care of the both of you.”
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I got a bug, so I decided to write this ridiculous nonsense.
Adventures in Babysitting
The ship hummed softly as the power-down sequence began, and Rocket was quick to hop out of the pilot's chair and make his way back to the makeshift child seat Gamora insisted he use. Something-something safety, something-something, blah-blah-blah, whatever.* Groot's safety is and always will be number one, but it's insulting that she thinks a glorified bucket with a seat harness is going to do shit. Rolling his eyes to himself, he lifts the "baby carrier" by the handle and disembarks, wincing in the bright sunlight on Peter's home world.
He probably should have told Peter he was going to come, see if the guy had any family to visit. Ah well. Too late now, time to meet his old pal to drop off the kid before getting down to business.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dyn Jarren was, to put it mildly, exhausted. After Sporog, there had been nine other planets, either too hostile or where they were too easily found. Nine.* So he'd decided to... Branch out a bit. Hit the next Galaxy over- he had contacts there, a Mandalorian covert hiding away on the moon of some backwater planet called Terra where the locals had barely managed to intrude on the dead rock, let alone notice the comings and goings of the refugees on their own moon. One of these Terrans had even gained that most precious of commodities years ago, the Mandalorian's trust.
There were three shootouts, a target's gills getting infected with fishrot, and said Terran actually convincing the target to be encased in Carbonite willingly. It was a wild four days, but the man was trustworthy, never having breathed a word of what happened during his "spirituality retreat."
Landing in a tucked away copse of trees near his contact's current location, he hefts The Child into his arms, turning his head to shush him gently.
"None of that. It's faster if I carry you."
Without another word he disembarked down the gangplank and set off at a brisk pace, following the coordinates in his helmet's display.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Keanu was sitting in the sunny Northern California early afternoon, dozing off if he were to tell the truth, at the rather larger home than he really needed that had been rented for the next week. He wanted plenty of room for Rocket and his young ward to explore and relax though, so this was his best option. It was secluded, no neighbors for miles, with a dense forest to the back and miles of vineyards in lieu of the missing neighbors.
A coo only a few feet from him caused him to jerk fully awake suddenly, eyes opening to see a man he'd never expected to see again and- was that a child?
Standing, he greeted the unexpected guest from outer space with a pleased smile.
"Mando! Man, wow, it's been like- six years? How are you? And who's this little guy??" As he approached his face broke into a more intimate grin as he made eye contact with the tiny green child, delight lighting up his face as The Child gifted him with another coo.
The Mandalorian, for his part, gives a neutral hum that borders on pleased. "This is The Child. We're currently hiding from parties that want him dead- or worse. I was hoping we could lay low here for a while- is that alright with you?"
Keanu, for his part, is astounded at that story, but the only question that passes through his lips is, "Mando, have you not... Named your kid?"
Despite being able to see exactly none of the Mandalorian's face, he can practically feel* the other man's blush. "... It hasn't been important so far."
"Mando!"
"Keanu." Unexpected, deadpan snark from his friend, but he rolls with it. Abruptly, he remembers his manners and invites them hurriedly, offering food and beverages. Dyn declines both for himself, but soup for The Child if he has it. Keanu does and quickly begins heating some on the stove. While that's working, he tries to figure out how to tell the bounty hunter about his other, expected visitor.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As it turns out, the Mandalorian wasn't terribly fussed about his having other guests, so long as they didn't try to harm either the man or the* child, though the Terran man was subjected to a hard stare he couldn't see but could definitely feel when he mentioned his other guests were "a little unusual-looking."
Rocket, true to form, didn't bother with knocking, though Keanu was openly relieved he used a door at all for entering the abode. The bipedal raccoon, on the other hand, was distinctly and obviously uncomfortable. With a blatantly false smile across his snout and speaking through his teeth, Rocket jerks his head a few times back towards the living room from the doorway of the kitchen where he'd abruptly halted.
"Hey, Neo, need to talk to you real quick. In here. Away from the bounty hunter."
The implacable stare of the helmet followed them out of the room and until they turned the corner, Rocket leading his friend halfway up the stairs leading to the bedrooms. Before Keanu can speak, Rocket is standing- somehow- on the railing and gripping the collar of his jacket, pulling him close to mutter threateningly in his face. "I don't know what that guy has told you, but I don't have any more bounties on my head. I went straight, we all went straight, we're doing good now. I won't let some Mandalorian asshole with out of date information skin me for credits, you got it?"
"I'm not here on a bounty."
Both man and raccoon in the stairwell jump, looking down at the Mandalorian standing with crossed arms. He continues, unperturbed by the blatant hostility of the raccoon that scampers down the stairs to stand eye to... Well, hip, until he takes advantage of the banister again. "I'm just laying low for a while. Needed a place to hide. Keanu mentioned you were coming." At the last sentence Rocket glares back at the man, before Mando dryly adds, "We were unexpected. You weren't."
Keanu decides that he needs a strong mug of tea.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
So once helmet-head and his little goblin child are settled in the dining area, Rocket goes to collect Groot and his- bucket, no, carrier- from where he'd left him napping in the sun. He is completely unsurprised that his own little monster child has managed to escape the prison of the child seat and is frolicking in the yard after a butterfly or some shit. Rocket allows himself the barest moment of tender enjoyment of watching Groot just be happy, before he knuckles up and shouts across the open lawn.
"Hey Groot, come meet your babysitter! I don't got all day, hurry it up!" The tree person- is he a shrub right now? He's small enough to be a shrub- comes scampering across the yard, stopping in front of Rocket, crossing his arms, and indignantly huffing.
"I am Groot."
"Yes, you do. I can't leave you on the ship by yourself for a couple of days."
"I am Groot!"
"Because I'm the adult and you're not right now."
"I am Groot?"
"Keanu. Don't give me that look, that's his real name."
"I am Groot."
"Look who's talkin'! You think either of us have room to be critical of someone else's name?"
"... I am Groot..."
"That's what I thought. Now c'mon, he's waiting inside and he made you food, so be grateful."
He takes his ward's hand, leading him inside. More to himself than anything, he mutters, "But Keanu is a weird fuckin' name..."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The second meeting with the children present goes much smoother than the first. They sit and share a meal- with the exception of Dyn Jarren, who answers endless questions about Mandalorians, his helmet, his weapons, and anything else Rocket can think of to annoy him with, with a remarkable amount of patience- if not without more of the snark Keanu witnessed earlier. The fathers then send their children to play, with stern warnings about not leaving the yard that are, the Terran is sure, going to be completely ignored. He has to grip Mando's sleeve to get him to sit and stay after some noises of play begin and the man slightly panics.
Rocket, for his part, decides to refuse to be this much of a worrywart over Groot upon observing the bounty hunter's near-palpable anxiety over his foundling.
Keanu decides to get into the practicalities of the next few days, asking what each child likes to eat, when they're supposed to sleep, and what discipline they're used to, ready to take notes.
Both Mandalorian and raccoon stare at him blankly after the first question. He tries again, starting with what he thought was the easiest question.
"what time do they generally go to sleep?"
"Uhhh, Groot just sorta passes out when he's tired. Usually about... 9ish? I guess?"
"Does he nap during the day?"
"How'm I supposed to know, I'm workin'! He just sleeps when he's tired."
"Mando?"
The bounty hunter's shoulders drop slightly in what might be classed as defeat. "He sleeps all the time in about two hour chunks, then he's up for about five." When the Terran blinks at him in what looks a lot like confusion, he sighs. "I've tried getting him to sleep longer, but unless he ends up using his abilities, it's just not happening."
Keanu nods in what appears to be deliberate lack of judgement, making notes on either side of his page. Rocket snatches the paper almost as soon as he's done with his bedtime notes, barking a laugh at the name given for The Child.
"Mando Jr.? Really, bounty hunter? You couldn't come up with anything better?"
"... I didn't come up with it."
"So what's his real name?"
"... It's not important. That'll do for now."
And so the conversation went, discipline being a similarly baffling subject for both of them. When it came to food though, they found surprising common ground.
""Frogs.""
Keanu made a continue gesture after they both looked at each other in surprise, before Rocket jocularly punched Dyn on the shoulder. Dyn, for his part, just seemed exhausted. Keanu could relate.
"Soup. Small bits of meat... Mushrooms. Insects if he can catch them."
"Groot'll eat anything, kid's a trash compactor. We done here?"
Keanu is more than happy to finish out the conversation there, releasing them to go check in on their kids before headed out. Sometime in the last few hours, Rocket had decided a Mandalorian was pretty good backup for what he was doing and asked if Dyn would like to come along. The bounty hunter had sighed heavily before nodding his agreement.
Which brought them back around to the sitter conversation that now had Keanu reaching for the tea kettle again.
It was going to be a long three days.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Keanu, for his part, was pleased to discover Groot had no problems retreating to his and Rocket's room at 9pm for bed. The Yiddling, as was the name that seemed to stick for the sitter, was another story.
He whined, he grizzled, he even squealed a time or two. The Terran just kept calmly holding the kid and bouncing gently, singing half-remembered lullabies to the child as it slowly, eventually, tired itself out. Keanu very gently lowered the child into the crib he'd acquired from the bounty hunter's ship before they left, taking the three steps back to his bed to collapse backwards into the sheets and blissfully drop off after hours of soothing a fussy toddler who could move things with his mind.
For two hours. Then the crying began again.
It was a long night for everybody, and the sitter was more than happy to go start the coffee pot just as the first fingers of sunlight began to creep over the treetops behind the house. By the time he had breakfast prepared for the two children under his care, the kitchen was bathed in golden morning sunlight. The two ate well, then his little tree-like charge turned to him with a stubborn tilt to his head.
"I am Groot."
"A nature walk? Why?"
"I am Groot!"
"I somehow really doubt the forests of Earth are your ancestral home."
"I am Groot!"
"... You know what, an excellent point. You two can find all the frogs you like and I won't have to attempt to catch any for you. We'll go in a little bit, okay? I need to pack you both lunches in case we're out for a while, and I need to put together that thing."
"That thing" was, in fact, a jogging stroller for doubles. A quick overnight delivery after the arrival of not one, but two children in his care necessitated it, and it had arrived promptly at 8am. He cleaned up after his little charges, helped them both wash their hands in the sink, and then sent them to play for a while as he carefully read the instructions for assembly.
One hour, two bandages, and a hurried, "don't repeat that!" tossed in a nosey Groot's direction after some overheard profanity, and the babysitter had the stroller ready. He packed two quick lunches based on the Yiddling's preferences- as his was the more specified, and Groot really would eat anything, including the plate- and got them all out the door, a bag of essentials that he resolutely would not call a diaper bag tucked into the very-convenient compartment beneath the seats of the stroller and took them down the path that had a trail head right there in the backyard. Keanu decided Groot really did have an excellent idea with this.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Two hours later Keanu was smugly pleased with both the nature walk and the double stroller. Both kids were passed out asleep in their stroller seats, snoring gently with the remains of their lunches clasped gently in sticky fingers- twigs? Claws? Fingers was just easier for Keanu's exhausted but triumphant brain- and resting lightly in their laps. He was now taking a leisurely stroll back to the house, enjoying the peace as much as communing with nature.
And so that's how the three spent the next several sleep-deprived days. Breakfast, stroller, wander through nature (one extremely disturbing frog-hunting hour around a pond that he's never mentioning to another living soul except for maybe their parents) lunch and afternoon naps, playing tag and other such games in the yard, dinner, and then a fraught bedtime with the little Yiddling.
When their parents returned, Rocket was nearly bowled over by an excited Groot, being squeezed happily by suddenly very long toddler tree arms. The Mandalorian was passed The Child by a tired but very happy Keanu, who reported to both parents that they were good kids and behaved. Mando was surprised in equal measure by both the Yiddling- he was keeping that name for him, thank-you Keanu- falling asleep in his arms immediately, and the sitter in question's flabbergasted stare that soon melted into a soft, gentle smile.
As they each departed for their ships after what was decidedly a warmer and noisier splash than The Mandalorian had wanted to make on this planet, they were both secretly pleased at just how comfortable their children had been with the Terran, and at how well they'd been able to work together.
Perhaps they'd have to do this again sometime.
#baby yoda#the mandalorian#the mandalorian spoilers#the mandolorian#rocket raccoon#baby groot#Keanu#i love keanu#keanu meme#guardians of the galaxy#star wars#mandadlorian
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[secrets: part seven]
[part] one two three four five six
[tags] @falling-stars-never-cry @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @hphmincorrectquotes
You had family over.. you had family over? The only person you ever mentioned was your older sister, whom you lived with, and the late parents you lost at a young age. There were family friends and your sister's boyfriend, sure, but never any other actual blood relatives. The text you sent sat uneasy with him. While he was happy you weren't ignoring him for as long as he expected, the confusion of who you could've meant was tenfold. Does he ask you at school tomorrow? Or does he just bypass his curiosity and let it slide?
Peter flipped over on his bed, staring at the phone sitting between the pages of his chemistry textbook. He'd been debating calling or not—considering you did say you had family over and couldn't meet with him. However.. maybe you could do a phone call? Or a text. Texting sounded better. You wouldn't be able to hear his very unnecessary desperation to figure you out just for tonight.
He threw his head down and groaned into his pillow. If he didn't have a crush on you he wouldn't have been as persistent. And it was overwhelming. He didn't recall any moments he felt like this when he liked Liz last year; not even when he found out her dad was Vulture and had to fight him. That was crazy, but it didn't meld his mind as much as this did. He didn't even think he could like someone this much after that whole experience. “Hey.” He turned his head enough to see his Aunt May leaning against the doorway. “Are you going to call her?”
He sat up immediately, turning his screen off and shutting the book he was reading just to help you on the project. “What? Call who? I don't know who you're talking about.”
She stared at her nephew for what felt like eternity before giving him a small smile and shaking her head. “I won't ask what it's about, but if it has to do with a certain superhero swinging around the neighborhood—well—I’m sure she'll understand once you have a real talk with her. I know she wouldn't want to jeopardize your friendship either.”
He didn't say anything—he couldn't, really. There were moments he forgot his aunt discovered that he was Spider-Man, so whenever she discreetly brought up the other side of his double life he was taken aback. Although this time, he was more than glad she had a sixth sense about what went on in his life. He cleared his throat and nodded his head slowly. “Yeah.. yeah, I'll make sure I talk to her. Thanks, Aunt May.” She gave him another smile and turned to head back into the kitchen. He immediately opened up the book and turned his phone back on.
While he was trying to decide whether calling was a good idea, you were sitting at a dinner table with your sister Katrina, her boyfriend, and pretty much the only person your parents were extremely close with. Everyone was engaged in lively conversation while you could barely get a word in. It all made sense, but for some reason you still couldn't wrap your head around the fact that your crush was also the one who prevented what would have been a tragic event in your life. A part of you preferred he was just making new friends that would replace you guys in the future. At least then you could cope and talk it out without having second thoughts. This was a whole other situation. Peter was an actual hero, not the regular, run-of-the-mill kid who takes city crimes into his own hands. He was skilled and friendly and as selfless as anyone with powers could be. Not to mention he worked with Iron Man; you remembered seeing that ship 'incident’ on the news the year before. As well as photos and videos people would post online of the two of them taking on bigger jobs together. It was amazing and impressive, but something still bothered you.
“Y/N.” You looked up from the phone sitting next to your plate, sending it to its black screen before acknowledging your sister. “What’s up?”
“Nothing. Just some stuff about homework.” It didn't seem like she believed it, but she only shrugged and continued on with the conversation with her boyfriend. They didn't give it a second thought, but the other guest clearly did. You watched him glance between yourself and the device, raising his eyebrows. Was the conflict really that obvious? Could he see that you were struggling with a friendship? Or were your mixed feelings with the current situation making their way into your eyes? “Um,” you cleared your throat and stood from your seat, “I'm gonna go work on that project Miss Simms gave me.”
After saying an early goodnight to the other three in the room, you made your way down the hall toward your bedroom. You closed the door and breathed out a large sigh, throwing yourself on the bed. You laid on your back so you could see the ceiling; see the space where you had half of the pictures of you, your friends and family stuck with tape and staring straight at you. It felt weird to have photos up at first, but over time you would look at them each time you just needed someone and they couldn't physically be there. Mostly during your moments of sulking or frustration, in which you hated bringing down the moods of others so you would look at the smiling faces above you to keep you sane. You hoped they would still help with something as big as this.
You sighed and rolled over onto your stomach, deciding that if you weren't going to talk to him yet, you might as well actually work on that project. While you started doing the worksheets there was a light knock from the other side of the door. “Come in.”
“Hey, misfit.”
At the sound of the all too familiar voice you put everything in your hands down and sat up, giving the man your full attention. “You haven't called me that for a while.”
“Now that's because you haven't caused any trouble in a while.” You rolled your eyes, smiling up at him as he gave you one in return. “So what's up? Why have you been ignoring me?”
“I haven't.”
“You're a terrible liar... definitely got that trait from your dad.”
You frowned and he gestured toward the open spot on your bed, waiting for you to nod so he could sit down. There was a silence that hung in the air as the two of you sat there, both looking around different pieces of your room. It was a silence you always hated when it was between you and him. You much preferred the weird, fatherly or innovative talks that would happen whenever you'd see him. After your dad passed away with your mom, he was the only one that was able to tell when something was bothering you or if you were lying about anything. So after another minute or so of quiet, you spoke up. “Why didn't you tell me?”
He sighed, letting the question sink in on both ends. He then adjusted his position so he could look at you properly. “It wasn't my place to tell you that. It’s his responsibility to decide when to say who he was to any of you. I've just been there as the... moral support, you could say.”
You snorted, “Snarky Tony Stark as moral support? That I would like to see.”
The billionaire raised an eyebrow and grinned at you, seeing that his said snarkiness had been rubbing off on you more and more. His gaze found its way to the object with the screen displaying your contact list. There were times he forgot how much you grew since that tragic day, but seeing the extent of what you'd been going through the past few months helped him see that you had more than just normal, teenage issues. You had a knowing crush on a boy who went around saving pedestrians and putting his own life at risk once in a while. All while having a father figure who had an arc reactor in his chest, flew around in an iron, red and gold suit saving New York from aliens with other heroes, was part of Earth's best defenders, and had a mind so big only those truly intelligent could fully understand him. “Talk to the kid. He goes through a lot. He could use someone like you on his side.”
Without waiting for a response he pulled himself up from the sitting position and made for the doorway. You bit your lip when he took a step out. You didn't want the chance to say it slip by, so just as he was halfway down the small hallway, you let out a small shout. “Thank you, Uncle Tony!”
With his rare modesty in check after your miniscule burst, you went back to the materials laid across the mattress. Your eyes combed over everything, stopping at the name that both frustrated you and sent waves of butterflies in your belly every time you heard it.
Neither of you were aware the other knew about having a crush on one another; these types of instances almost never happened, especially during high school. It was a decision of part temporary confidence, part consideration, and part nobody wanting to lose a friendship out of this. You were both unsure for different reasons, but at the end of the night feelings were only an excuse. In your beds, you each took a deep breath and pressed the name on your phones.
#marvel#marvel fandom#peter parker#tom holland#spiderman#spiderman homecoming#hollander#marvel fanfiction#peter parker imagine#peter parker x reader#reader insert#tom holland imagine#tom holland x reader#fanfiction#mcu#peter parker au#tom holland au#fandom#avengers infity war#avengers endgame#spiderman ffh#ffh
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Ernie being at another fire scene, now that's sus 🤔
I don't like when Shay and Severide are having problems, be besties again pleeeaaassseeee
What the hell just happened to Vargas???
Ooooooo, Kelly is pissed
Yes, Shay being Kelly's support
Boden and Severide should not fight, they are father and son 🥺
Casey and Shay interactions, I always give but it feels so good to receive
Ernie is just a scared kid. I feel like he was put through alot growing up
Mouch's reaction to stairs, yup, I feel his pain
Why is this man just standing there???? What the hell, indeed!
"Please, I don't want any help"
"Clearly" The way I laughed out loud 😂😂😂 and who says Matt Casey isn't funny
Casey calling this man Ralph after he won't tell him his name, please, I know I shouldn't laugh but I can't help it
Please, this whole interaction ✋🏾
Casey: "Don't do anything stupid"
The man (real name Mark): 👀
Casey: "I mean, don't do anything stupid again"
If I'm ever trapped or in danger, y'all better call Matt Casey to come save me
"I'd give you the finger but that would require too much energy" it's official y'all Mouch is my favourite. It is sad how much I relate to this man
Casey and Mills both saying "sure" after Dawson says to save her some of the brisket, I'm dying
Why am I just now realizing that Connie is working at 51. It's so great to see her.
Poor Vargas, I think he took it much better than I expected he would have but Matt and Kelly being the ones to tell him he can't be a firefighter anymore and will have to go on long - term disability just makes it worse.
Why Vargas out here exposing my man Kelly like this?
Severide thinking that he has fooled the entire house about his injury but they all know and decided not to say anything is very on brand
Casey being worried about Kelly, yeah, as I said, they are my crack
Leon telling Cruz to not clean up his messes but yet still he's the first person he called after he got arrested. Boy, make up your mind
Cruz is so protective of his little brother
I swear Mills has the biggest, most obvious crush on Dawson
"Oh, no, Peter Mills don't trouble yourself. I had two sunflower seeds in the ambo" my god, I love Leslie Shay so much 🤣🤣🤣
Boden having the biggest heart and wanting to keep Ernie out of jail
That was a sweet send off for Vargas
The way this sentence was structured though
"He's a good kid. One day he's gonna kill somebody"
Mouch eating Severide's chocolates, this man is my spirit animal, istg
Matt's here talking about different kinds of windows and the only thing I can think to myself is how much Sylvie would be so excited about this. Can you tell that Brettsey's got me down bad?
Kelly Severide: "What's shaking sparkles?" Marry me rn
This woman, Renee, has more confidence than me. I can't believe she really came back after being rejected like that.
I've said it once and I'll say it again: I hate it when Severide and Shay fight.
This is such a complicated situation that Boden has found himself in. Like I'm actually fearing for Ernie rn.
I can't believe they beat up Leon 😰
Yes, Kelly is a good man
Matt Casey in a short sleeved shirt, if I speak 🥵
The way that this episode ended 😭😨 I feel so sorry for Vargas. I hope he gets help so he can get better.
The way that Cruz' nightmare is not being able to save his brother and watching him die infront of him
Confused Casey 😂
Dis she really accuse them of stealing her necklace? Like, I know how this episode ends but I love how they subtly set up that it could have been Cruz who stole the necklace because of his situation with the buy - out to the gang for his brother.
Shay is nervous because all the painkillers she gave to Severide off the books has finally come to light and Boden can definitely tell something is up
Herrmann praying for the limo start 🤣🤣🤣
Severide and Shay need to stop fighting, I'm serious
Poor Cruz thinking his brother was one of the DOAs in that car. My heart breaks for Leon too
He might not want to punch you, Griffin but I sure as hell do
Griffin fully expecting Casey to feel sorry for decking him, I have to laugh
OH MY GOD! 😱 Cruz straight up left that man to die. I AM SHOCKED
Otis has 236 subscribers on his podcast, good for him
I literally hate this man, Griffin
Shay being so nervous over the missing drugs, poor baby
Boden knows, he always knows
"Who was she?"
"What do you mean?"
"The Renee that ruined my name"
DUN DUN DUNNNNN
Casey, you did well, honey
Cruz going through it, I'm scared for him rn
Christie's back!
Honestly, Casey looks so out of place at this party, god help him
Cruz dealing with the guilt from leaving that man to die
Shay left. I'm heartbroken Shay really left 😢
That was a very important call, Casey
Matt visiting his mom in prison, this is gonna be rough
Seriously, what the hell was that ending? 😨
I'm currently rewatching Chicago Fire from season one so I'm just going to leave any comment or opinions I have here.
Watching season 1 while also watching season 9, it is so amazing how everyone, especially Matt and Kelly, have grown and look so much different.
Also, s1 Kelly Severide was hot as hell. I mean pls 😩🥵🥵. Couple that with pretty boy Matt and I'm just simping for these two white men.
I'm in my feelings about Leslie Shay, god I miss her so much 😭😭😭
I don't know what the general consenus on Matt and Hallie was but I think they're cute together.
I wasn't aware that Boden has a tattoo.
In the second episode of s1, Kelly was with an old man during his final moments and the man asked Kelly if he was married and when he answered no, the man said don't wait too long and I immediately said "well, I don't think that 9 years is too long" and now I'm crying over Stellaride
Also, Kelly allowed the man to video a dying message to his wife on his phone and when he told his wife that she was his puzzle piece, my mind immediately flashed to Brettsey and now I'm crying over them too
#chicago fire#season 1#matt casey#kelly severide#peter mills#joe cruz#leslie shay#gabby dawson#randall mcholland#wallace boden#christopher herrmann
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10 Outdated Things From Ghostbusters That Won't Make Sense to Generation Z
It’s been 35 years since Ghostbusters became a pop culture mainstay. And even after all that time, busting still makes us feel good. While there are plenty of things about the movie that hold up today, there are several that Generation Z may need explaining.
After all, Peter Venkman, Raymond Stantz, Egon Spengler, and Winston Zeddemore were ghostbusting in an analog time. And what was state of the art then is a distant memory today. If you can recall the eighties, this list of things the newest generation won’t understand will probably make you feel old. If you’re a part of Generation Z, this list will shed some light on some of the outdated things in Ghostbusters that you may have questions about.
10 THE SPECIAL EFFECTS LOOK WEIRD
To modern eyes, the special effects in Ghostbusters just don't look quite right. They lack the digital polish we're used to today. While they can create pretty much anything with CGI nowadays, things weren't that advanced in 1984. As a result, many of the effects seem, well, kind of janky.
Yet, what Generation Z might not appreciate is just how brilliant the effects team had to be to make the world of Ghostbusters come to life without the use of computer graphics. Many of the effects were practical and created on set. Creatures and ghosts were often puppets, and when that wouldn't work, they had to be drawn on each individual frame of film. The fact that everything looked as good as it did is actually pretty amazing and speaks to the effects team's ingenuity.
9 THE GHOSTBUSTERS ARE COMPARED TO COSMONAUTS
While Venkman, Stantz, and Spengler wait for the elevator at a ghost-infested hotel, a man observes them and asks, “What are you supposed to be, some kind of cosmonaut?” Generation Z may have caught the term "cosmonaut" in a history class at some point, but it’s not a word that’s bandied about in casual conversation much these days.
RELATED: 5 Things We Need In Ghostbusters 2020 (& 5 Things We Don't)
A cosmonaut is a Russian astronaut. And while some of the spacesuits cosmonauts wore were white, the spacesuits used for spacewalks were beige and looked a lot like the uniforms the Ghostbusters wear. The man by the elevator has no idea what a Ghostbuster is, but he knows they dress a lot like cosmonauts.
8 CASEY KASEM TALKS ABOUT THE GHOSTBUSTERS
During the montage charting the team's rise to prominence, a voice on the radio talks about the Ghostbusters' battle against a poltergeist in a night club. That voice may not sound familiar to Generation Z, however, those of us who are a little older will recognize it immediately. It’s Casey Kasem, the announcer responsible for bringing the American Top 40 radio show to the masses.
At one point, Kasem had one of the most famous voices in America and the Top 40 was a must-listen show. The Top 40 countdown still persists today, but it doesn’t have the same cultural cachet it once did. While Kasem sadly passed away in 2014, he built quite a legacy. In addition to the Top 40, he did voice-overs in TV commercials and was the voice actor behind characters like Shaggy in Scooby-Doo.
7 DANA'S ANCIENT TV
At one point, Sigourney Weaver’s Dana Barrett comes home to find the TV on in her apartment. However, the TV in her living room probably doesn't look too familiar to Gen Z.
RELATED: 10 Ways That Ghostbusters (2016) Was Better Than The Original Movies
In the '80s TVs were big and boxy and the screens bulged out. Even the idea of a large, flat-screen TV like the ones we use now sounded impossible. Not only that, the switches to change the channel and raise and lower the volume were on the TV itself. While remotes were available, they were less common. You would just walk right up to the device and switch it off as Dana does. Weird, huh?
6 THE CARD CATALOG AT THE LIBRARY
One of the things the ghost at the library does to make its presence known is blow the cards out of a card catalog. But the card catalog may be an unfamiliar sight to Generation Z.
Today if you want to locate a book in a library, you look it up in a computer database. Years ago though, before people used computers for pretty much everything, libraries had a different system of sharing a book’s location with their patrons.
A card catalog contained a card for every single book in the library, showing its location. Borrowers would find books by opening the drawer marked with the letter of the last name of the author they were searching for and then sift through the cards until they found what they wanted. Sometimes the individual cards were even filled out by hand. The system was simple, but a lot more time-consuming.
5 THE GHOSTBUSTERS CARRY A LOT OF EQUIPMENT
When Spengler and Venkman make their way to the library to check out the ghost, Spengler comes loaded down with equipment. While the Ghostbusters use some highly specialized technology — proton packs, anyone? — the things Spengler carries on this initial outing aren’t all that special, they include a tape recorder, a film camera, and a video recorder.
RELATED: 10 Reasons Why Ghostbusters 2 Is Better Than The Original
Sure, now all those things are available on our smartphones, but in 1984 you needed an individual device for everything — and by today's standards, those devices were huge. Spengler was prepared to take photos, record video, and record audio of the ghostly encounter, but to do so he had to haul around all that equipment.
4 ICEBOX IS A SYNONYM FOR REFRIGERATOR
At one point Dana asks Venkman what the demon Gozer is doing in her “icebox.” If you’ve seen Ghostbusters, though, you know that Zuul is in her refrigerator. Given the context, Dana’s using the term icebox as a synonym for her refrigerator, however, it’s not exactly a perfect comparison.
Iceboxes were a non-electric precursor to the modern refrigerator. While the two words actually were used as synonyms for a time, it’s rare nowadays. Even in 1984, Dana’s use of the term sounded a bit dated.
3 THE GHOSTBUSTERS ARE ON THE COVER OF OMNI MAGAZINE
During the montage that follows the Ghostbusters’ growing fame, references to the group are shown in newspaper headlines and magazine covers, including USA Today, Time, and The Atlantic. There was no digital media at the time, so making the papers and being a magazine cover star were the way the public learned about someone.
RELATED: 10 Things From Ghostbusters That Haven't Aged Well
One of the magazine covers the Ghostbusters appear on has a special place in science fiction lovers’ hearts but may look made up to Gen Z. The magazine is called Omni and it was, in fact, a real magazine. A print version of Omni was published between 1978 and 1995 and it continued to be published online until 1998. Despite its long absence, the magazine looks to be relaunching soon.
2 VENKMAN DECLARES, “IT’S MILLER TIME!”
After the Ghostbusters defeat Gozer (or at least think they do), Venkman victoriously shouts, “It’s Miller Time!” Yet since Generation Z watches fewer commercials than other generations ever did, they may have missed out on this at-one-time ubiquitous tagline.
“It’s Miller Time!” was a slogan used for Miller beer. Originally it was used in the 1970s. Since then it’s been used several other times, including in 2012. That’s well within Gen Z’s lifetime, but the slogan never achieved the same popularity it did earlier. In the movie, Venkman’s use of the tagline is a unique way for him to celebrate his team’s awesome victory while also declaring it’s time to party.
1 EVERYONE’S SMOKING EVERYWHERE
Today, it’s rare to see people smoking in public, especially if they’re indoors. And in movies, characters almost never light up unless there’s a very specific character-driven reason for them to do so
However, even though the dangers of cigarettes were already widely known in the 1980s, smoking was still tolerated pretty much everywhere. The constant smoking engaged in by the characters in Ghostbusters is a product of that reality. The Ghostbusters don’t smoke for any character-based reason. They do it because that’s just what people did. At the time, smoking in movies and in life was still accepted, even though today it makes the movie look seriously dated.
NEXT: Ghostbusters: 10 Best Peter Venkman Quotes
source https://screenrant.com/ghostbusters-outdated-things-wont-make-sense-generation-z/
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10 Outdated Things From Ghostbusters That Won't Make Sense to Generation Z
It’s been 35 years since Ghostbusters became a pop culture mainstay. And even after all that time, busting still makes us feel good. While there are plenty of things about the movie that hold up today, there are several that Generation Z may need explaining.
After all, Peter Venkman, Raymond Stantz, Egon Spengler, and Winston Zeddemore were ghostbusting in an analog time. And what was state of the art then is a distant memory today. If you can recall the eighties, this list of things the newest generation won’t understand will probably make you feel old. If you’re a part of Generation Z, this list will shed some light on some of the outdated things in Ghostbusters that you may have questions about.
10 THE SPECIAL EFFECTS LOOK WEIRD
To modern eyes, the special effects in Ghostbusters just don't look quite right. They lack the digital polish we're used to today. While they can create pretty much anything with CGI nowadays, things weren't that advanced in 1984. As a result, many of the effects seem, well, kind of janky.
Yet, what Generation Z might not appreciate is just how brilliant the effects team had to be to make the world of Ghostbusters come to life without the use of computer graphics. Many of the effects were practical and created on set. Creatures and ghosts were often puppets, and when that wouldn't work, they had to be drawn on each individual frame of film. The fact that everything looked as good as it did is actually pretty amazing and speaks to the effects team's ingenuity.
9 THE GHOSTBUSTERS ARE COMPARED TO COSMONAUTS
While Venkman, Stantz, and Spengler wait for the elevator at a ghost-infested hotel, a man observes them and asks, “What are you supposed to be, some kind of cosmonaut?” Generation Z may have caught the term "cosmonaut" in a history class at some point, but it’s not a word that’s bandied about in casual conversation much these days.
RELATED: 5 Things We Need In Ghostbusters 2020 (& 5 Things We Don't)
A cosmonaut is a Russian astronaut. And while some of the spacesuits cosmonauts wore were white, the spacesuits used for spacewalks were beige and looked a lot like the uniforms the Ghostbusters wear. The man by the elevator has no idea what a Ghostbuster is, but he knows they dress a lot like cosmonauts.
8 CASEY KASEM TALKS ABOUT THE GHOSTBUSTERS
During the montage charting the team's rise to prominence, a voice on the radio talks about the Ghostbusters' battle against a poltergeist in a night club. That voice may not sound familiar to Generation Z, however, those of us who are a little older will recognize it immediately. It’s Casey Kasem, the announcer responsible for bringing the American Top 40 radio show to the masses.
At one point, Kasem had one of the most famous voices in America and the Top 40 was a must-listen show. The Top 40 countdown still persists today, but it doesn’t have the same cultural cachet it once did. While Kasem sadly passed away in 2014, he built quite a legacy. In addition to the Top 40, he did voice-overs in TV commercials and was the voice actor behind characters like Shaggy in Scooby-Doo.
7 DANA'S ANCIENT TV
At one point, Sigourney Weaver’s Dana Barrett comes home to find the TV on in her apartment. However, the TV in her living room probably doesn't look too familiar to Gen Z.
RELATED: 10 Ways That Ghostbusters (2016) Was Better Than The Original Movies
In the '80s TVs were big and boxy and the screens bulged out. Even the idea of a large, flat-screen TV like the ones we use now sounded impossible. Not only that, the switches to change the channel and raise and lower the volume were on the TV itself. While remotes were available, they were less common. You would just walk right up to the device and switch it off as Dana does. Weird, huh?
6 THE CARD CATALOG AT THE LIBRARY
One of the things the ghost at the library does to make its presence known is blow the cards out of a card catalog. But the card catalog may be an unfamiliar sight to Generation Z.
Today if you want to locate a book in a library, you look it up in a computer database. Years ago though, before people used computers for pretty much everything, libraries had a different system of sharing a book’s location with their patrons.
A card catalog contained a card for every single book in the library, showing its location. Borrowers would find books by opening the drawer marked with the letter of the last name of the author they were searching for and then sift through the cards until they found what they wanted. Sometimes the individual cards were even filled out by hand. The system was simple, but a lot more time-consuming.
5 THE GHOSTBUSTERS CARRY A LOT OF EQUIPMENT
When Spengler and Venkman make their way to the library to check out the ghost, Spengler comes loaded down with equipment. While the Ghostbusters use some highly specialized technology — proton packs, anyone? — the things Spengler carries on this initial outing aren’t all that special, they include a tape recorder, a film camera, and a video recorder.
RELATED: 10 Reasons Why Ghostbusters 2 Is Better Than The Original
Sure, now all those things are available on our smartphones, but in 1984 you needed an individual device for everything — and by today's standards, those devices were huge. Spengler was prepared to take photos, record video, and record audio of the ghostly encounter, but to do so he had to haul around all that equipment.
4 ICEBOX IS A SYNONYM FOR REFRIGERATOR
At one point Dana asks Venkman what the demon Gozer is doing in her “icebox.” If you’ve seen Ghostbusters, though, you know that Zuul is in her refrigerator. Given the context, Dana’s using the term icebox as a synonym for her refrigerator, however, it’s not exactly a perfect comparison.
Iceboxes were a non-electric precursor to the modern refrigerator. While the two words actually were used as synonyms for a time, it’s rare nowadays. Even in 1984, Dana’s use of the term sounded a bit dated.
3 THE GHOSTBUSTERS ARE ON THE COVER OF OMNI MAGAZINE
During the montage that follows the Ghostbusters’ growing fame, references to the group are shown in newspaper headlines and magazine covers, including USA Today, Time, and The Atlantic. There was no digital media at the time, so making the papers and being a magazine cover star were the way the public learned about someone.
RELATED: 10 Things From Ghostbusters That Haven't Aged Well
One of the magazine covers the Ghostbusters appear on has a special place in science fiction lovers’ hearts but may look made up to Gen Z. The magazine is called Omni and it was, in fact, a real magazine. A print version of Omni was published between 1978 and 1995 and it continued to be published online until 1998. Despite its long absence, the magazine looks to be relaunching soon.
2 VENKMAN DECLARES, “IT’S MILLER TIME!”
After the Ghostbusters defeat Gozer (or at least think they do), Venkman victoriously shouts, “It’s Miller Time!” Yet since Generation Z watches fewer commercials than other generations ever did, they may have missed out on this at-one-time ubiquitous tagline.
“It’s Miller Time!” was a slogan used for Miller beer. Originally it was used in the 1970s. Since then it’s been used several other times, including in 2012. That’s well within Gen Z’s lifetime, but the slogan never achieved the same popularity it did earlier. In the movie, Venkman’s use of the tagline is a unique way for him to celebrate his team’s awesome victory while also declaring it’s time to party.
1 EVERYONE’S SMOKING EVERYWHERE
Today, it’s rare to see people smoking in public, especially if they’re indoors. And in movies, characters almost never light up unless there’s a very specific character-driven reason for them to do so
However, even though the dangers of cigarettes were already widely known in the 1980s, smoking was still tolerated pretty much everywhere. The constant smoking engaged in by the characters in Ghostbusters is a product of that reality. The Ghostbusters don’t smoke for any character-based reason. They do it because that’s just what people did. At the time, smoking in movies and in life was still accepted, even though today it makes the movie look seriously dated.
NEXT: Ghostbusters: 10 Best Peter Venkman Quotes
source https://screenrant.com/ghostbusters-outdated-things-wont-make-sense-generation-z/
0 notes