Tumgik
#hangs it on my metaphorical fridge
ask-mirage-mews · 2 years
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(Same person from that last anon ask about apologize) if that seemed aggressive! Also don't apologies for apologizing smhhh
By the way, I adore your art. You seem like a sweet person too! So I sat down for a second and here's my first ever attempt at drawing Mew/Mewtwo. Except it's your wholesome duo! (:
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Oh goodness this is very sweet thank you!!!
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glimmeringtwilight · 2 years
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Hey! I just wanted to say that I am so in love with your writing and the way you portray the characters. 😭 Your articulation and your pieces overall are simply immaculate. As a Dottore simp, let me tell you, I hopped on Tumblr solely to find some good Dottore fics and you're quite literally the only writer whose works I absolutely loved and was left wanting more content from! I looked up Dottore fics on other websites and I just couldn't find anything I liked, possibly because you set my standards so high I literally can't read anything else KSNDKHDJDH. Without sounding like a creep, I just wanted to kindly ask if you plan to write more Dottore in the future? Obviously, I respect you and your time and just want to thank you for sharing with us and allowing me to read such gorgeous fics, I'm just here like "I wan more"
Ahem, anyway that's all 😭 i hope this didn't sound rude in any way!! (I had to stop myself cause I can go on and on about how terrifying (in a good way) your Dottore fics were GITIDDIYIYDIDY)
Sending many good vibes your way!!
AAAAABDBAHF
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Kicking my legs and giggling fr 😭 this made my night when I saw it JGHSJFJS TYSM..... HOLDING YOU!!
And ABSOLUTELY I have more fics planned for him, 100% Currently I have the general premise for p3 of Gilded Cage written down (Dottore and Pantalone), I have the baseline for the halloween Dottore piece, and then there's the p2 for Daffodils which will also have Dottore 😌
I've also really, REALLY been meaning to write a modern au piece for him.... I have a few ideas floating around but nothing concrete that I want to move forward with yet. Until then I might write some short snippets of different modern au ideas to get a feel for which one I like the most, then do a longer one for it 👀
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gumy-shark · 2 years
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Opinions on Team Rancher from double life?
it takes a mutual and/or an excellent author to really get me invested in romantic team rancher, just bc their dynamic is already so good and i dont trust most writers to not mischaracterize them. like honestly i like them a lot as platonic already, so u gotta go the extra mile to sell me on the extra mile uknow?
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bunnys-kisses · 5 months
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werewolf!simon 🐺 (bc happy 3,000 followers to me <3)
you met because you were lost in the woods while camping. it wasn't your fault that all of the trees looked the same! but it led you into simon who led you back to his cabin so you could call the park ranger! simon even made you some tea before he called the land-line.
park ranger johnny or 'soap' said that the truck was out of service so it would have to wait until tomorrow. "you can be a gentleman, right simon?" he laughed over the phone. simon grumbled in response, this wasn't going to be the best idea.
it was the full moon after all.
simon allowed you your personal space as he went about his cabin. he even allowed you to use his bed for the evening. you told him that you were fine on the couch! the issue was that the bedroom could be locked from the outside, usually for his own protection. but tonight it was for yours.
"um... mister simon." you said, "i'm sorry that i'm intruding so much."
"it's alright." he got up from his spot in front of the fireplace. he walked past you and rubbed your hair as he went by, "the woods aren't a safe place."
"i was told only deer hang around here."
he chuckled, "you should be more afraid of men." he went to the nearby kitchen and grabbed a beer from the fridge. he opened it with ease and took a sip, "man destroys."
"well." you stepped forward in a daring move, "you're a man and you're taking good care of this place." you swallowed, "i don't think the entire species is doomed."
he chuckled and took another sip, "i'm not a man."
you stilled, "so like an alien."
he put the beer down and pulled away from the counter, "more beast than man. every full moon, beasts like me roam the woods. sometimes we get a little hungry."
"so you would've eaten me?" you swallowed, you balled your fists just in case you had to make an escape.
he approached you, but you were frozen still. instead of touching you with force, it was so gentle. his thumb was dragged down your cheek, "no. i don't hurt pretty things. but i would've snapped my fangs at anything that tried to come near your tent. so for your sake, stay in my room. so i can't hurt you."
you found the courage to touch him back. your fingers dragged down the scar on his face, "but what if they come too close to your home?"
he smiled a little, "i'll give you my shotgun."
you swallowed, "well.. mister simon. maybe i need your protection?" it was better that you had a familiar face around the cabin instead of leaving it all up to chance.
he cupped your face, "i could hurt you."
you shrugged a little, "i'd rather you hurt me then some other man."
he brushed his thumb across your cheek, "well. then i guess i have to be on good behaviour then." then leaned in to kiss you on your forehead, "but i'll need to cover you with my scent."
you were soon stripped, you realized that simon has no sense of modesty. eventually you were tossed on the bed like you were a bag of potatoes. and simon pressed his weight onto you.
you pressed under a man who could easily snap your bones. but instead, you were doing weird beast-esque skin to skin contact. he rubbed up against you.
"mister simon." you squeaked.
"it's just simon."
"are you sure i can't just wear some of your clothes." they would fit.
"nah. gotta get it right into the skin." he said gruffly as he continued to snuggle against you. you didn't know what scent he was putting on you. all you smelt was old spice and aftershave.
usually for simon, he would've been pent up by now. the day was slowly waning. but he found himself getting tired. the usually sharp werewolf was turning into a metaphorical mush. it was like he felt safe in your arms.
the comfort of simon's bed plus your time hiking left you feeling drowsy too. it wasn't long before you both fell asleep. you didn't even feel the man turn into a wolf.
you simply turned to your side and get comfy against the thick hair that covered you. it was like sleeping under one of those expensive shag rugs that rich people had.
that paired with the weighed allowed you to sleep soundly as the full moon passed the sky. you were a relaxing force to this werewolf and you didn't even know it.
the next morning, johnny came by to pick you up but instead found you under the enormous weight of one simon riley. he was soundly snoring and the ranger just chuckled to himself.
"i'll come back later so you don't ma head off."
(this could be expanded on later. i'm calling it the 'howlin' for you' au aka the werewolf au)
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4pfsukuna · 3 months
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B.A.S G. Suguru
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Debrief: heavily inspired by Megan thee stallions new song B.A.S. Warning: Smut like turn your screen brightness down and read in private. Geto suguru is his own warning
part 1 can be read here but not necessary to read it’s just Gojo smut🙃
Suguru Geto was a very jealous man, although he kept a calm exterior inside he was a storm of brewing emotions.
You had been friends with both him and Satoru since 6th grade enjoying having two bodyguards…and jesters.While the three of you jokingly flirted with another the boundary was set when it came to any of you being in relationships even if Suguru never stayed with a girl longer than a few months, he blamed it on getting the ick and sometimes you dont know whos sassier him or Gojo.
“Ah so you were kidnapped by snow white” you hear before you catch a glance of his dark hair going into the fridge rummaging around as if he owned it. The two of you had made such a habit of going through satorus things and taking it, honestly it was a surprise he even let you back in. You sat infront of Gojos laptop checking emails and things for your job since you’d gotten so comfortable and he practically forced you to stay. Not that you minded he had fast WiFi good snacks and his bed felt like those luxury hotel rooms.
“I'm assuming that's why you bluffed our trip to the museum” he smirks over his shoulder, covering his pure jealousy, watching your face fall. Stopping your chewing you reach for your phone seeing the missed calls and text from him covered on your lock screen of you him and satoru with your matching koi fish tattoos behind your ear. 
“Sorry my glorious—“ you begin but he scoffs.
“I am not satoru, you can't sweet talk me!” He rolls his eyes taking a bite out of a cake pop left in the fridge. He doesn't seem to be bothered by it but you know better.
The previously mentioned man walks in shirtless black sweats hanging low on his hips revealing the designer logo on his boxer briefs. There's a certain pep in his step and arrogance about the way his sweats hang that Suguru absolutely does NOT miss.
“You're just jealous she spent the weekend with me and not at some boring ass museum” he smirks, bumping shoulders with Suguru who shoves him back with a pointed look. And he knows that glow on satoru, knows that you two fucked he doesnt know you two recorded it but even though he had a new girlfriend this week you two fucking gave him the absolute ick.
For her.
“It was a day and a half and i promise we can go to the museum after i finish this portfolio for my client” you correct Gojo and send a soft smile to Geto who smirks at the pouting snow haired man.
“No i don't want to share you, besides don't you have a girlfriend to bother and take on dates” Gojos sharp tongue jabs at his friend as he walks over to the fridge and he knew exactly what he was doing Getos got a sharper tongue though when he's jealous.
“Actually i do she wants to go on a double date tonight so get dressed” he tells him a challenging look in his eye and the tension in the room grows thick. he's challenging to see if either of you will speak up on what happened and he doesn't miss the way you two avoid eye contact his smirk growing wider.
Gojo catches it though. 
“Mmm no thanks, I'm getting my dick wet tonight” He shrugs knowing whatever upper hand suguru thought he had… he didn't. He can't help the way his heart skips a beat when he catches your smile confirmation for round 7…8?
“Why not two in one night, youre never one to turn down a sexscapade” and he's quick, so quick that it gives you both whiplash as he toys with you now pulling a random piece of lint off your shorts… a pair of Gojos boxers which makes his brow twitch in frustration. You had on his shirt, boxers and socks…you fucking smelled like him.
There was nothing he could say to Gojo so he turned his metaphorical dagger on you.
“Isn't that right sweetheart? Don't you just love listening to your favorite fuckboys sex stories” and he had the audacity to try and GOAD you. Knowing how incredibly possessive your ass was and poison is dripping from his lips at “your favorite fuckboy”. Oh he knew it's definitely known between the 3 of you that he knew. The room gets hotter and before Gojo could say anything they're both reminded why you fit so perfectly into the trio.
“If you think I spent the whole weekend with this blue eyed glow stick and he didn't spew complete filth into my ear the whole time— don't humor me” and it's a triple threat. The nickname, double entendre and you poke back. Both of their heads are spinning at the way you say it without even so much as glancing up from your laptop screen.
Yeah you heard about his sex stories satoru couldn't hold water if you gave him a bucket and strapped it to his chest but now that you've had it there was a tinge of possessiveness you now claimed over him.
It's a tense silence only being broken by Satorus phone ringing letting you know the uber eats driver is down stairs.
“I'll be back, don't miss me too much” Gojo humms arrogantly, fingers running over your shoulders before bumping suguru on his way out. 
You barely wait for satoru to close the door before you start speaking knowing Suguru would try to take control of the conversation.
“Jealousy isnt a good look on you—“ you smirk and he cuts you off, grabbing your chin.
“Are you FUCKING him?” He asks, a deadpan look on his face, his cologne enveloping your senses with a slight hint of japanese cherry blossom making you glare at him.
“Not you in MY business” you roll your eyes pulling your chin from his hand. The fucking audacity.
“Princess” he goads with that nickname glimpses of when satoru moaned it in your ear flash back “Are YOU fucking him?” He enunciates and you hated to be questioned it didn't matter who he was to you.
“Smelling like another woman and questioning ME is crazy” you scoff as he stands in between your legs eyeing you with a slight eye roll.
 “You aint shit” and something about that sets him off, his eyes getting darker as if you didn’t smell like Satoru.
“Oh! Are you jealous?” He steps closer leaning toward your face, eyes flickering toward your lips as he licks his. “Does Satoru know how many times we’ve kissed?” He asks you, hands setting on your thighs with a slight squeeze.
Sure you’ve shared a few drunk kisses with Suguru and maybe a couple of sober ones too but he was a good kisser and you liked kissing when drunk. Why kiss a random stranger when HE was there. Plus you had to test to see if he was that good sober… for research purposes.
Licking your teeth you watch as his smirk returns and you’d do anything to wipe it off, taking his thick neck and wrapping as much as your green acrylic covered fingers around his neck as possible. You smile when he melts into it, eyes focused on your thick pink lips.
“Yeah… guess we both AINT SHIT” and as if he’s psychic he pulls back just in time for Satoru to walk in with bags of food. 
“Guess who got extra food for being shirtless and the delivery guy thinking i was a God” he whoops, setting it on the marble island top  in front of the two of you, you  and suguru sharing a look before laughing. He was sooo…. Himself. 
You engage in mindless chatter opening up the white carry out boxes of food unaware of the looks the duo keeps giving you before Suguru notices there's only two platters of sticky rice he slides one to you and keeps the other for himself quickly using a set of chopsticks to gather a large amount.
Before he could even lift it to his mouth satoru lurches forward taking it in his mouth letting his tongue twirl around the tips of the sticks before pulling back and chewing with a vicious smile on his face.
“GOJO!” He snaps bewildered and the tips of his ears being red lost on the two of you due to his long hair covering it.
“That's for my cake pop” he retaliates sitting back on the stool and you giggle taking a bite of your own rice.
“Satoru, I don't know where your mouth has been.” Suguru says in fake disgust although he goes to eat off the same chopsticks.
“My mouths been places you wish yours was” and the tensions back this time it's playful as the two begin play fighting.
Getting caught up with work you hardly have time to spend with either of them except for a few texts here and there Suguru is relentless in the thirst traps he sends you— laying in bed with audio of his morning voice, shirtless gym selfies even after shower selfies with his towel hanging dangerously low.
 You entertain his game by sending him a photo of you arching in the mirror spine tattoo illuminated by the red mood lights and a black thong and ask ‘do you think this is good enough to send to my hoes’ and he chuckles at your little cat and mouse game. You're conniving, bratty and know how to work his nerve. He doesn't care who you send it to because he saw it first.
Ge-hoe {whats the plans for today, sweetheart} 
You know that's his subtle way of seeing if you wanted to hang out but you were out on a date and it wasnt with satoru either. You debate responding to the text when your phone buzzes again.
Ge-hoe {and Satoru already blabbed that you two went to breakfast today and he was drunk of mimosas so i know that idiot doesn't have your attention for the rest of the night}
You {just enjoying some me time, you?} 
Ge-hoe {Same.}
You had actually been out on a date, makeup done, fresh nail set, new hair style and a brand new outfit to an arcade date followed by a small cafe. You weren't complaining, it was something casual and fun without too much pressure.
You're sitting on the basketball game watching as he misses every jump shot, the two of you laughing about it until you feel someone brush up against your arm. Ready to snarl about personal space until their cologne hits your nose and you instantly know who it is. Dior sauvage with a hint of coconut conditioner.
Ge-hoe {Pleasure seeing you here princess.}
You {likewise}
And when you hear the high pitched voice of another woman you can't help but glance, she was cute you'll give her that— but not his type. You like her style and just as you're ready to compliment her she muggs you sending you the nastiest glare which your smile grows at. You weren't entertaining her when you had matching tattoos with this man. Not enough of a threat when he's lying about spending time with her. But you were lying too.
Lying to me and im lying to him guess we both aint shit
Ge-whore { you look so pretty propped up there}
8 more messages come through and you nearly block him as he lays his compliments on thick. 
The last one catches your attention though.
Ge-whore{can you condition my hair tonight, you know i love when you scratch my head with fresh nails} 
You {youre so annoying} 
You {i want food}
Blueeyedking to group chat {i know you two didn't go to the arcade without me!}
When Suguru pulls up to your semi spacious loft (apartment) donned in a tight fitted compression shirt, gray sweats and sneakers two bags in hand you know he's serious. There's a lot of things he played about but his hair wasn't one so when he sees your extravagant hair care routine he knows he can trust you.
You turn into a certified yapper talking about work taking pride in it as you lather his scalp with conditioner and when his eyes close you know he's thoroughly enjoying it.
“And your date?” He ask now moving to lay his head in your lap as you use your diffuser on his hair claiming something about heat damage but you know he just likes the feeling of your fingers in his hair. You shrug looking over at your calendar.
“What are you wearing to your boyfriends party on saturday” and he opens his eyes to send you a glare knowing you were talking about gojo and you send him a coy smile. Heavy arm dropping down to your calf he begins massaging it pressing a thumb heavily into a specific spot that causes you to let out a strangled sound.
“Ngghh- Suguru! S-stop” you tug on a lock of hair which doesn't phase him. Suguru was no idiot he knew exacctly where every pleasure point on the body was and would sometimes fuck with you and Gojo at the worst times.
“Sounds so pretty saying my name” and this time his fingers brush your knee making you squirm so focused on his hair you don't notice the oversized shirt has been rising this whole time and it now rests on your hips giving him a perfect view of your red lace underwear.
“You wore this for your lil date?” He asks, hooking a finger in the band and snapping it against your skin.
“I wore it for myself cause i look hot as fuck dont piss me off” you pop his finger but that doesnt stop him as he plays with the lace hem the tension rising as you try to focus on his hair.
“Suguru stop fucking playing” you hiss pulling half his hair up into a bun to section off the finished part and he takes that as a challenge.
“I never play with my food” and he leaves a kiss on top of your mound over the lace listening to the way your breath hitches. He flips the both of you in one movement so his back is laying on the couch and you're straddling his mouth.
His tongue is licking a long stripe through your underwear that you feel on your slit making you let out a stifled moan. 
Satoru was an idiot.
Satoru was a big fucking idiot.
There was no way satoru tasted you and let you walk out. Hes licking at your folds feverishly before his tongue swirls around your clit. 
“S- suguru” you moan softly and that triggers an insatiable side of him. He locks an arm around your thigh so you can't move before sucking your clit into his mouth with more intensity.
The moans are spilling out the same way your wetness is your body instantly so responsive as he flickers a tongue through your folds. Thrusting a tongue up into you twisting and curling your hips buck at the intrusion earning a groan.
He uses his free hand to slowly push a thick middle finger in your core curling it pulling the sluttiest moan from you. watching your head lul back and back arch he's committing everything to memory, every moan and gasp when he curls or flexes a finger, the way your brows furrow and nose scrunches cutely when he sucks on your clit but most importantly the way you’re hips buck when he pushes his tongue harder against your clit.
Your moans begin to get higher and thighs start to tighten around his head and damn is he so contempt you both miss the vibrations of his phone on your coffee table nearing the edge…just like you.
He can't help but to snake one of his own hands down to his aching dick that's so painfully hard he bucks into his hand the minute he gets a grip on it.
He moans out the vibration traveling up your whole body as one hand grips the armrest of the couch and he nearly loses it when you start to babble.
“Fuck fuck nnggh fuck sug…suguru i—“ you whine hips bucking against his face and fuck hes losing his mind at the way your hand comes down to hold his face in place.
“Talk to me sweetheart” his muffled words come out and you feel the orgasm ready to rip through you watching his hooded eyes look up at you.
It's when you notice he's jerking off from pleasuring you that you can no longer hold back the orgasm and release down his face juices falling in his chin, down his neck even falling to his shirt.
He doesn't stop eating though, oh no his mouth latches on adding a second finger in listening to the squelching sounds he's pulling from you and the way you keep moaning his name like a prayer. His mouth starts making smacking sounds as he pushes you more into his mouth.
“F-feels so good! Im gunna—Suguru please please please” you whine and you never had to beg but fuck do you sound so pretty when you do and the way your tone gets higher, voice gets needier and pussy gets so much wetter. He moves his fingers faster,  mouth faster and his grip faster on himself matching the way your hips move on his lips.
“J-just like tha—nghh” You cum extremely fast this time your whole body shaking  and his hips stutter ropes of white cum shooting from his tip all over his pants as he lets you come down from your high noticing your body swaying as your breathing gets extremely heavy. 
Chuckling he sits up pushing your hips down to his lap as he rubs your back and thighs before placing a sloppy kiss on your lips. He wanted nothing more than to let you keep cuming on his face but if he didnt get up he was going to lose his mind and take everything you had to give and then some. Hed never make it to actually fucking you.
“So you done fucking with that loser from earlier?” He asks in your ear trailing kisses down your neck listening to the way you pant for him soaking up his whole lap nails digging into his broad shoulders. His phone rings on the coffee table a contact photo of the girl from the arcade and you peel yourself off of him wiping your essence off his lips.
“Quit asking when imma leave my niggas knowing you still with your bitch” and he pulls you back by your thighs massaging them over his lap pushing his hair out of his face long locs cascading over his broad shoulders covered in his now soaked shirt. He pays little attention to what you were saying knowing he'd be single by tonight.
You don't speak to either of them much until Gojo’s party taking your time getting ready, only waltzing in once the party is in full swing.
Its only a minute in before Getos by your side pulling you in for a hug a smooth “hey sweetheart” chuckled in your ear as he holds out his drink for you never moving his arm from off of you. Gojo isn't too far behind pulling you away from the dark haired man taking you in an embrace of his own.
“Princess you finally made it” he yells kissing the top of your head with 3 shots in his opposite hand. You scrunch your nose as you take the shot and push the empty glass back towards him.
“Free alcohol and a chance to dress up and look pretty as fuck? Of course” you finish the drink Suguru had given you,  eyes landing on Shoko and Maki who waves you over.
“Ditching us already?” Suguru purrs an unashamed glint in his eye. He licks his lips and the way your eyes flicker and watch momentarily let him know the two of you are thinking about the same thing.
“Yeah you’ve been ignoring us the past few weeks. I can't remember the last time you called me your blue eyed king” Satoru pouts crossing his arms over his chest.
“What can i say…I’m a hot commodity” you wink before going over to the couch where the girls are, your heels sinking slightly in the rug as you walk.
“I'm surprised you could get away from your boyfriends” maki smirks over her red solo cup and you roll your eyes taking her cup downing all the contents, the cognac sliding down your throat smoothly. 
“Not my boyfriends” you fake gag giving her back the empty cup making her scowl at you.
“Please Suguru hasn’t stopped staring at you like he wants to eat you since you walked in, and Satoru… Satoru has that arrogant smirk” Shoko speaks, lighting her cigarette knowing it would piss off the latter.
“Have you seen how good my ass looks in this dress, and satoru always has that arrogant smirk. Besides we’re a trio” you smile coyly you could feel the heat of sugurus eyes burning into your back. They both send disbelieving looks not even wanting to get into your relationship with the two before pouring more shots enjoying the music and chatter.
It's when the alcohol begins tasting like water that you know it’s beyond time to slow down on drinking especially when you begin…feeling absolutely feral.Truthfully you were not…okay. At all. Geto must have some magic tongue because the way every time you blinked you could picture the view of him under you. Could feel his mouth on you. You nearly came to the thought of this man.
How did you feel like you were missing out when you were the one that let him taste test the goodies. 
“You alright?” Maki asked after you release a small hiccup relaxing further into the cushion. Watching as Suguru and an older dark haired man with a scar on his lip has what looks to be a muscle off. 
He's glaring at suguru with a look of disgust that borders “ill kill you” while sugurus look of disgust is “bitch please your filthy hands couldn't even touch me. They exchange a few words before settling into arm wrestling positions and you smile Sugurus definitely been drinking to partake in something so… beneath him.
“Yeah I just need some air” you tell them standing up and walking to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water seeing Satoru already in there cracking open another bottle of alcohol.
“You okay, princess?” He ask genuinely and your nod holding the bottle of water towards him so he can open it he complies, loosening it lightly before handing it back to you. You waste no time guzzling it nearly choking as you laugh at him goofily singing along to the song earning a smile. 
He sets the bottles down,wrapping you up in his arms, versace cologne strong but not overbearing as he rocks you two gently, unaware of the looks you were getting.
“I miss you, we haven’t hung out in weeks. Do you think I’m ugly or something?” he gasped dramatically, making you laugh as you used his belt loops to keep you steady.
“Ohhhh thee Gojo Satoru” you begin to tease knowing that as much as an arrogant bastard you’re friend was he called your friendship and quality time aka he was a softy that loved validation, a brat.
He leans into your teasing pushing his face into your neck before you feel his sharp teeth graze your neck.
“S-satoru” you gasp shocked and you go to laugh but he beats you to it.
“Never let them know your next move. That’s what you get for ditching me” he pokes your chin and you feel an energy shift. Both of you looking to the right you see Suguru approaching, his eyes focused on Satorus arms around you.
Geto suguru is a jealous man and the thought of someone else having you in the way he wanted pissed him off.
When he’s close enough he leans against the table Satoru has you pinned against staring strictly at the other man.
“The people are waiting for alcohol, especially old scar lip. How'd you even know him?” He ask, taking a shot from the bottle. Satoru only groans, grabbing another bottle quick to walk out.
“You must taste good to have my best friend openly licking you in public” he points daggers at you and if so bitchy at that, he’s not angry. He's good at hiding his jealousy behind a teasing facade but you knew better drunk or not.
“Oh don't tell me you've forgotten Suguru.” you milk his ego slightly reminding him of a few nights ago with a purr and an adorable head tilt batting your eyelashes up at him. It's when you take your bottom lip between your teeth that he's reminded of the faces you were making as you rode his face until you came. While Gojo likes outright straight up flattery Geto prefers the mind games getting off on the mental stimulation. In other words he likes to be talked out his boxers.
“Of course not sweetheart,” he chuckles warmly, using the band on his arm to tie half of his hair up brushing the rest off his broad shoulders. “The offer is always on the table”.
Standing up on your tiptoes and using his muscular bicep as leverage secretly feeling him up you match his smirk pulling the band from his hair.
“I actually like your hair better down it would look so hot in missionary like that” you say innocently pulling his hair back over his shoulders and like a charm… he was talked out his boxers.
The minute the door is closed behind the two of you your hands are pulling him down by the front of his shirt lips on his and he's moaning into your mouth.
He's pushing you back on the bed behind your lips never leaving yours as he straddles your hips one hand propping him up the other holding your head in place.
“You’ve been giving me those fuck me eyes all night” he breathes kissing down your neck directly over where Satoru jokingly bit you making sure to suck a mark of his own on your neck. Pulling your dress down there's a slight shredding sound before he's completely ripping off your dress.
“S-Suguru!” You stutter pulling away and he just lets out a slight hum taking in your bare body.
“What? It's not like it was covering much anyways i'll take mine off too” he pulls his black sports jersey off revealing a perfectly sculpted body and you are momentarily distracted running a hand from his happy trail up his abs to his chest.
“We do have to leave this room eventually,” you begin tilting your head with a pointed look which he shrugs at.
“Won't be anytime soon” he chuckles amused at you even assuming you would. Your hand trails back down to his belt yanking him forward your lips meeting again his hair acting as a curtain shielding the two of you. 
His tongue dances down your chest until his mouth reaches a nipple, his fingers sneaking inside your waistband brushing against your slick clit.
“Oh sweetheart”he grins like a Cheshire cat enjoying the way you arch into him and soak his fingers up. He watches you throw your head back,whines coming out as he circles his middle finger around your clit. Arching up into him to get more pressure he chuckles his finger sliding between your folds and into your core.
“Soaked soo fucking soaked” he heaves adding a second finger grinning when you push your hips down twisting. Giving you exactly what you want he starts thrusting them faster, feeling you clench.
“Suguru” you moan, clutching onto him your soft pants increasing more and more until he makes a particular curl of his fingers against your g spot that makes your eyes cross.
“G-gunna…Sug—“ your body begins twitching as the pressure builds so intensely from his fingers and he only chuckles, pulling his fingers away, making you gasp at the sudden loss.
“Suguru PLEASE” you beg gripping onto him so tightly and it’s exactly what he wanted you under him his jealousy twisting into his need to have you a begging  mess under him.
It satisfied a sick part of him, itching a certain scratch that inflates his ego. So while people were lusting after you, you were writhing and begging under him.
Stroking his thick length you hiss when he slowly starts pushing in feeling the burn of how thick he is youre ready to wrap your legs around him to take some form of control but he grips your thigh pushing it to your chest. 
He leans forward as he bottoms out groaning feeling the way your tight pussy sucks him in and grips his fucking soul.
“Fuck… FUCK” he grunts feelings his pelvis touch your mound and he needs a second or hes going to burst until he hears you let out a soft exhale that sounds strangled and his eyes meet your wide ones. You had never felt so full before, never had your legs forced open because someone was so thick, you could actually feel him in your stomach.
You could fall apart just like this. Everything about this moment was more than sexually satisfying his scent, his touch, his hair dangling down over you the way his dick spread you open but isn't painful. You begin to wonder how many kids he wants and can instantly picture him as a girl dad.
Fuck kids, you needed to be able to fuck this man for breakfast lunch dinner and a midnight snack. Until the walls had no paint, until he couldn't tell left from right, until your throat was sore and his hips hurt. Until your knuckles hurt from clenching the sheet so tight and his bottom lip bruised from biting it so hard.
“Y/n, you okay?” And him calling you by your actual name brings you back down to him bringing your mind from the spiral he sent you into, damn how long was i daydreaming.
“Baby?” He ask sliding out slighty and the sloshing sound makes you look at him grabbing his face to pull his lips to yours. Oh he was so fucked. YOU were fucked. Sliding back in, your hands, find your way to his hair tugging lightly when he snaps his hips. You couldn't find words so the kiss would have to suffice.
“Oh fuck” you whine in his mouth and that’s all it takes before he’s creating a steady pace of strokes  grunting when you clench around him any thought of… anything was lost. The only thing he could focus on was how tight and hot you were around him and how perfectly you were taking him. Part of the reason why he switched women so much was because they always had a hard time taking him and while yes he may look every bit of a sex God some things just aren't enjoyable. Oh, but you? If heaven was real this was it and he could die happily between your legs.
“That's right baby youre doing so good” his voice rasp gently, nearly being drowned out by the loud music of the party. Getting wetter at the sound of praise he takes note kissing your leg that's bent by your face.
“So good at taking me” he grunts in your ear, biting on it easily, pushing you into your first orgasm from just talking and he looks too satisfied to be done any time soon. The way your nose scrunched cutely and you clenched tighter before the warm gush pushed all over his dick oh he needed so many more. How were you so pretty and perfect at everything you did?
Finally relaxing slightly he nearly lets out a strangled moan when you tighten your legs around his hips and flip him over. It happens so fast one minute he feels like he has the upper hand and the next he's at your mercy. There's a feral look in your eyes, you look like you absolutely want to ravage him and as dominant as he is the thought of you taking charge makes him twitch inside of you.
Raising your hips slightly and propping yourself up using his abs as balance you slowly inch back down so painfully slow squeezing as you do and he lets out a broken groan. Inching back up against the headboard to give you a hand he almost regrets it  the way your hips twist and grind into him so deliciously. His grip on the headboard tightens the wood creaking slightly.
The way he bites his lips and gives you such a loud moan fuels you as you repeat the action, hips moving faster as you raise and drop releasing moans of your own as his dick hits that perfect spot inside of you every time.
You slither a hand up to his neck watching his eyes widen the wicked smirk on your face growing the widest its ever been. Its when you squeeze that his hips buck involuntarily up into you but being the rider you are you let the movement adjust you on your tiptoes picking up speed a bit more.
So when he lets out a broken moan that almost sounds like a whine he starts scrambling to get some sort of control over the situation. Using his thumb he presses against your clit rubbing circles to stimulate you more listening to the sounds the two of you are making.
“Fuck baby s-slow down” he moans but the way hes watching himself dissapear fully inside of you is letting you know hes enjoying this to much for you to slow down. Squeezing his neck a tad bit more and tilting his head up so you're making eye contact the smile on your face never leaves.
“I cant keep— ngghh, feel so good Suguru” you purr and even though you look fully incontrol you never fully recovered from that first orgasm you were actually still brain scrambled but you were still taking him— riding him and using him to your advantage so well. 
“Suguru” you whine eyes rolling back and that's his undoing oh but he's not done yet, you decide. The feeling of his hot cum bursting inside of you satisfies a sick part of you knowing you could reduce him to… this. You had to see it again but this time you had to watch his face.
“If you… if you can tell me what i'm spelling” you start leaving a peck on his lips “i'll let you cum again” and he's confused as hell but likes the sound of it. Shit you could probably ask him for his credit card number and he’d sing it.
Twisting your hips in a certain direction you smile when he says the first letter of your name.
“Good, how about this one” and you twist again with a thrust moving his hand to play with your clit yourself watching his eyes zero in on you.
He stutters out the second letter of your name but quickly clears his throat. You smirk repeating through all the letter of your name watching how wrecked hes becoming the closer you get to the end of your name and hes melting at the thought. You spelling your name out on his dick taking your ownership he wanted to lay you on your back and go feral but that would mean he'd have to give this up and for a jealous and possessive man he loved being claimed.
Its when you get to the last letter that you reach behind you grabbing his balls and squeezing as you twist the last letter on his dick and he bursts for the second time and never has he cum this fast back to back… you could definitely ask for his credit card number and have it. Credit card number, his house key… fuck it his soul anything you wanted was yours he swore it.
He realizes quickly that you making him cum wasn't for his satisfaction… it was for yours you were having fun milking him for every drop taking taking taking until nothing was left. In fact looking for more ways to make him cum. He gets a moment of relief when you climb off of him. He was entirely too sensitive and any second longer he was sure he wouldn't be able to feel his dick— in the best possible way.
Hes heavily panting, still closing his eyes trying to get his shit together when the next sensation has his eyes shooting open.
Your tongue teases his sensitive tip and he nearly thrashes in your hand but the lack of energy has him only let out pathetic whines that nearly sounds like whimpers. Oh the joys of breaking a man! Watching your thick gloss covered lips spread around his thick girth was a sight he’d commit to memory and never forget. Twisting both of your hands down and around his length you let your mouth follow licking up your combined mess hollowing out your cheeks with a particular suck that makes his stomach squeeze.
“Fuck baby” he groans ready to tangle his hands in your hair but settling for running it down your spine tattoo over and over. He knew better than to touch your hair. Its when you let half fall out of your mouth, spitting it back into his dick, licking it back up and swallowing before swirling your tongue around the tip is when he starts to plot the murder of everyone you’ve been with prior.
He listened to the way you gag when you take him as far back t in your throat as you can, the sound of you sitting and licking it back up, the slurping the gawk and the gulk before he finds himself getting too overstimulated. But there's a soft wet sound that he knows isn’t coming from him so he follows it between your legs watching your slick covered skinny brown fingers rub maniacally at your clit oh his little freak indeed. 
Your mouth travels down his shaft before sucking his balls into your mouth and he throws his head back, hips bucking up unable to stop himself from grabbing your hair this time as your thumb presses into the slit on his tip.
“Come here” he rasp out, finally coming to his senses slightly right before coming again pushing you on your stomach.
“Sug—npphhh” and your muffled by the pillow as he pushes his dick back in the squelching sound only fueling him as he slides in. He pulls all the way back to the tip placing a hand on your upper back to push you deeper into an arch before snapping his hips back in all the way.
“Fuck Sug!” You borderline yell arm reaching back to grab onto something and he chuckles repeating the motion over and over using your hips as leverage. He slams you down onto his dick right where he knows your g spot is watching as you try to run arch falling completely. 
“Whats the matter baby?” He antagonizes wrapping a hand around your hips to find your clit terrorizing the bundle of nerves until your legs are quivering and lip trembling.
Leaning forward he brushes your hair out of your face taking a moment to just observe how fucking pretty you are like this. His pretty baby, with a face like this you could call him at any time and he’d come running.
“Close… im s’close” your legs begin thrashing even wilder as you clench his sensitive tip leaking ready to fill you up with another load. The way your acrylic fingers grips the sheets as you fall into your  arch even more was such a sight. Party be damned, Satoru be damned and exes be damned. Suguru felt so head high the electricity brewing between the two of you as you both fought off your peaks to elongate the sex as long as possible.
“Oh yeah, sweetheart?” He ask rubbing your clit faster picking up his speed releasing loud obscene groans in your ear and it’s when his thrust start becoming sloppy that you know he's just as close as you are and that’s enough to muster up the tiniest bit of energy to throw your ass back and match his rhythm.
“Cum with me sweetheart” and he begins counting down from 5 knowing he wasn’t lasting 10 seconds at all nor did he even remember all the numbers at a time like this.
“3…2..” he breathes roughly in your ear and your eyes roll back in your head the both of you releasing at the same time before he could even reach 1 the intensity too much and he collapses onto you his fingers still rubbing you through the orgasm until the two of you are reduced to nothing but sweaty heaving bodies.
It’s a comfortable silence even when he moves off of you and pulls you to lay on his chest…and out of the wet spot.
“So messy” he teases, brushing your hair down with his hand, ignoring the way he has strands sticking to his own forehead.
“It’s your fault.. you made me that wet” you grin trailing your fingers over his abs loving the way he convulses slightly.  You're so ready to sink into the soft sheets and warmth he provides until a distinct buzzing grabs your attention, pulling your vibrating phone from the floor seeing you had about 10 text messages from Gojo 2 from Shoko and one from Maki. 
Suguru uses the time to check his own messages seeing he has quite a few missed messages himself though all from the same person.
His ex girlfriend that he broke up with the other night through text directly after leaving you.
Gojo had been looking for you and all you could tell him was that you stepped out for sure ignoring that you’d have to face reality at some point.
“I could go for another round”
“Fuck it, Guess we both aint shit”
tag list(and my very first🥹) @gardenof-venus
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erule · 19 days
Text
Twice
Pairing: Peter Parker x Fem!Stark!reader
Summary: you and Peter have been rivals for a lot of time, until one day everything changes. But it’s the same old story: you love him, he loves you, then you die and he doesn’t have the chance confess his endless love for you. Or is it?
Warnings: spoilers from Avengers: Endgame, reader is Tony’s daughter, Peter and reader are 18+ here, fluff, a lot of angst, enemies to friends to lovers, happy ending though
Word count: 2084
A/N: Hi! I just wanted to write something after a long time. Hope you like it. Let me know what you think in the comments, if you want 
Taglist: @imawhoreforyou, @blankspaceblankday, @sarahcameronswife, @belovedholland.
Main Materlist: here.
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Twice.
I believe that things in life happen twice, like getting a job offer or falling in love. For instance, I fell in love twice. The first one was in high school, with my classmate, but he didn’t want me. The second one was with Peter, but he didn’t want me either. I guess that some things never change. Sometimes, if you’re very lucky, things can also happen thrice, but it’s rare that some trains pass in front of you. This kind of fortune never really occurred to me, that’s why I still think that things in life happen twice. When you don’t understand the occasion, it comes along again for you to see it and finally take it. Maybe that’s why I died twice.
But let’s go back to the beginning, shall we?
Did it never happen to you to die in a metaphorical way? Like when you feel a pain in your heart that doesn’t go away, a deaf heavy brick onto your chest. So you try to breathe, but every rib hurts when you try to do so. Well, this happened to me when Peter told me that he kissed MJ. I was his best friend, I should have been happy for him, but I couldn’t. The reason is obvious: I was in love with him. Common, right? You’re probably thinking that. Our friendship didn’t begin like that, though. We were rivals at first, even enemies sometimes, because my dad preferred to work with him and not with me. I mean, I had Morgan, my younger sister, but it wasn’t enough for me. I needed him to actually see me. Now I regret it. Anyway, before we grew closer, I couldn’t stand Peter and he couldn’t stand me. We used to bicker all the time, until one night. One single night. 
“Hi”, I said.
It changed my entire life.
“Hey”.
“What’s up?”
“I’m just hungry”, he replied, while looking into the fridge.
“Wanna know a secret?” I asked him. He turned in order to look at me. There was a spark of genuine curiosity in his gaze, but I was staring at his half smile on his face, a ghost of something that he didn’t use with me.
“Shoot”.
“The best food is not in the kitchen,” I replied. “It’s actually in my room”.
He grinned at me.
“Wow Y/N, I didn’t know you were this naughty. I thought you hated me. Turns out you just wanted something from me”.
I laughed out loud.
“You’re mistaken, Spidey. I just wanted to be kind, but turns out you’re a jerk. Goodnight, I’m gonna eat my marshmallows alone”.
“Wait, are you for real? True marshmallows? I’m coming,” he said and I smiled at him, truly happy. I didn’t have many friends at school, so I was glad to finally have somebody to hang out with, even if it was my rival.
Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t hate Peter, I just wanted my dad’s love, that’s all. Besides, it was impossible to hate Peter: he was the light when everybody came into the room. He made everybody comfortable and he reassured who needed a kind word. I admired him. Today I wouldn’t have treated him like that.
“I actually have one request,” I said, when he sat on my bed, while looking around.
“I knew it”.
“Spidey-sense?”
“No, I just know you, I guess,” he said and I felt a knot in my stomach. “Anyway, anything for you. I’m so hungry!”
“What if I’d ask you something terrible?” I asked him, while giving him some marshmallows on a plate. “What if you were wrong?” 
Maybe I wasn’t talking about him, but about myself. I was so concerned not to be Tony Stark’s perfect daughter, that somehow I acted like that just so people could be right about me. Maybe I was just worried to be an evil person.
But he shrugged. Peter ate a marshmallow, looked straight into my eyes and said: “You’re not what you think you are, Y/N. Trust me, I would know”.
“Because you know me?”
“No, because of my Spidey-sense, you silly little girl,” he said and I chuckled. Then, his face became so serious it almost scared me. “You know, Ned warned me about you once”.
“Oh, really? Why?” I asked, while sitting next to him.
“He said that you’re trouble”.
“Trouble?”
“Yeah, like staring directly at the Sun. It’s kinda dope, though. You’re more like the Moon, but still. The Moon is so pretty and strong”.
“Strong? Why?”
“Yeah, because it takes courage to stay in the sky without anybody in the dark”.
“Oh, well, but the Moon has the stars. They’re like soldiers: they protect her”.
Peter looked at me while eating another marshmallow, as if he was really thinking about what I said, then he nodded.
“I agree. I can be your star,” he said. “I’ll protect you. From now on, we’re friends,” he stated. 
I smiled at him.
“Thanks, friend”.
“You’re welcome,” he said. “Oh, what did you wanna ask me?”
I didn’t actually have anything to ask him. Maybe I just wanted some accompany that night, because I couldn’t sleep either. His words changed me, though. I wanted to return the favor in some way.
“One day, I’m gonna ask you to promise me something and you’ll have to keep your word”.
He brought a hand to his heart and swore to do so.
“Okay”.
And that was the night I fell in love with Peter Parker. 
Some years after that, when we were at university, he broke my heart when he told me he kissed MJ. 
“Why do I feel like you’re not happy about it?” He asked me. 
How do you explain to somebody that you’re drowning in your own thought? In your own blood, in your own bones. It’s like you’re disappearing, but you really don’t. You just wish you could.
“Because I don’t really like her”.
“You’re kinda the same person, actually,” he said and it really hurt me.
“What?”
“No, wait, I didn’t mean to…”
“If you think that you can replace me with her, you can do it. It’s fine,” I said, shutting the door behind me.
“Y/N! I didn’t mean to say that! I just wanted… I just… I don’t know,” he sighed, then I heard him sitting on the floor, his back on the door and his breath so distant from my skin. He stayed silent for a couple of minutes, that’s why I thought he went away. I could still hear his heartbeat through the door though, since I was with my back on it like him. “You’re irreplaceable, to me. I just wanted to say that you’re similar to MJ, that’s it. You’re two black cats. I’m sorry”.
I remained silent for some time, then I sighed: it was impossible to stay angry at him for more than two minutes straight.
“That makes you a golden retriever, then?” I asked and he chuckled.
“I guess so”.
I wanted to tell him. I wanted to tell him that I was in love with him then and that I had been for years, but the words wouldn’t come up to my mouth. Besides, he was in love with someone else. We were just friends and it had to be enough for me.
“Hey, Peter?”
“Yes, Y/N?”
“I learned that stars that shine the brightest do that because they’re dying. I shouldn’t do that”.
“Do what? Shine?”
“Die,” I said. “You’re not allowed to die. Okay?”
“Okay”.
I didn’t know it then, but I’d have been the one to die.
Thanos was… a lot of things. And Peter was a lot of things to me. So when I had to choose what to do, it was simple. My Dad didn’t want me to be there, but I was on the battlefield. I saw people fight, die give everything they could. It was terrific. But I was there to protect Peter, because I knew that he couldn’t do that alone, despite him being so strong all the time. Because he was like me. 
“Y/N?” He shouted, when he saw me. He was surprised and scared at the same time. “You shouldn’t be here!” 
“I should!” I said, while I was fighting with one of Thanos’ soldiers.
“If anything happens to you, I swear…”
“Nothing will happen!” I said, while he was winning against some soldier.
“Mr. Stark will be very disappointed!”
Yes, he was.
“He’ll understand!”
No, he didn’t.
“Why are you here?” Peter asked me, while he was close enough to put his hands on my shoulders. I had an armor, but it was useless when he looked into my eyes. I melted like a silly little girl.
“You know why,” I said and I prayed that he understood it. My heart clenched.
He gulped.
“I don’t”.
“You shine brighter than me. I can’t allow you to die,” I replied.
“This doesn’t make any sense, Y/N. I won’t leave you here. I’ll take you home”.
“You will,” I said. “You have to. You promised. Don’t follow me. You have to keep your word, remember? If Thanos kills me…”
“No, Y/N, no…”
“If Thanos kills me,” I continued, “you won’t look for revenge. Is it clear?”
“Y/N…”
“Is it clear?” I repeated, determined. He nodded. “Good”.
You’re asking yourself how I knew that, right? Well, I didn’t. But I knew Peter. I knew that he would have followed me anywhere, because I would have done that too. 
Then, everything happened all at once. My Dad saw me from the distance. He called out my name, but I didn’t hear him. I was disappearing. Peter looked at me in disbelief, too astonished to talk. That was me dying twice. 
“Remember me,” I said, while trying to hug him, but it was like my muscles were too tired to even embrace him. I was slowly falling asleep.
“Y/N? Y/N?” He called. “I love you! I love you!” He screamed, his voice a desperate heartbreak into the air. “I love you!”
When my dad reached out to him, it was already too late for me. 
***
When Peter came back from the cemetery, he didn’t expect to see Tony Stark at his university, after five years. He knew that Y/N came to the battle just to protect Peter, so he hated him because if his eldest daughter died was his fault. But now he knew what to do in order to bring her back and he needed his help to do it. 
“Mr. Stark,” Peter said, surprised. “I didn’t expect to see you here”.
“It’s her death anniversary, I know, but I had other things to do,” he said. “I know how to bring her back, Peter, but I need you to come with me”.
Peter shaked his head.
“I don’t understand: I thought that you hated me”.
“Y/N always said that nobody could really hate you and she was right”.
Peter smiled at him, his lips trembling.
“I broke up with MJ the day before the battle. I wanted to tell her, but I never got the chance. I thought that she didn’t want me”.
Tony put a hand on his shoulder, a warm smile on his face.
“There’s not a world in which she doesn’t want you, I fear”.
That being said, they were coming back to the past with the other Avengers in order to save Y/N and the people who had died because of Thanos. Tony was the first one to see Y/N coming back from the dead.
“Peter!” He called.
Peter turned and he saw Y/N. It was like coming back from a dream. She was finally back into his arms and he wouldn’t have let her go, this time. He dipped his nose into the crook of her neck and inhaled her scent. It was so real it made his heart ache. If he could have exchanged his place with her in all those years, he would have done so. He would have done anything to make her live a normal life. Being without her meant not living, but barely floating on the surface.
“I’m in love with you,” he said. “I’ve been for most of my life, actually. Since that night we ate the marshmallows together”.
He saw her bring her hands on her heart, tilting her head with tears in her eyes.
“And you’re my light, Peter. You always have been”.
Then he hugged her again and it felt like coming home.  
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wynnyfryd · 11 months
Text
Trailer park Steve AU part 15
part 1 | part 14 | ao3
“Please please please please pleeeeease,” Dustin whines, tugging hard on the hem of Steve’s shirt.
“Dude get off me.” He slips the last of the leftover containers into the fridge, slams the door shut, and turns to glare at Dustin, who oh-so-conveniently had to step out after dinner to ‘walkie Lucas about a homework question’ and left Steve and Eddie to do the washing up.
In the absence of a Henderson buffer, the air between them had pretty immediately gone stale. Hesistant and charged, overly formal; fucking weird. Eddie moves like a weirdo, sways his hips out of the way of counter corners instead of walking a straight path, like some swaggering drunken pirate, and he spent the last ten minutes awkwardly traipsing around the perimeters of the kitchen as if Steve were a landmine he might set off at any time.
So yeah.
Steve’s feeling a little ungracious at the moment. “Seriously, what is so important that you can’t just show it to us tomorrow?”
“Ummm, scientific discovery? Wonder at the natural world around us?? Where’s your sense of adventure, Steve?”
“The last time I followed my sense of adventure out to your cellar I almost got—” His eyes cut sharply to Eddie, who’s doing a terrible job of pretending not to eavesdrop. Steve scrambles for a way to end his sentence that isn’t eaten by a creature with a razor flower for a face. “—uh, mauled.”
“Mauled?” Eddie asks, eyes bugging out. “Henderson, I’m not following you into the woods to get to turned into some feral thing’s chew toy, man.”
“It was fine,” Dustin insists, covertly kicking Steve in the shin.
Steve thinks of his NDAs and plays along. “Y-yeah. Totally fine. It was just, like, a rabid raccoon or something.”
“That… does not sound fine.”
“It’s cool,” Steve tries to reassure him (no idea why, really; that cellar’s nightmare fuel.) He throws a dish towel over his shoulder, nods his head decisively. “I’ll bring my nail bat with us.”
“You’ll fucking bring your what?”
Steve drags his nail bat through the leaves on the narrow trail, the wood thudding along behind him as they make their way to the cellar, a detached storm shelter at the far edge of the lot. It’s dark out here. And cold. His breath hangs in a puff of wet fog when he mutters, “Seriously, Dustin, this better be Noble Prize worthy stuff.”
“It’s Nobel,” Eddie says.
“Huh?”
“The, uh- the prize? It’s No-bel.”
“….Well, that’s stupid.”
“Why would it be Noble?” Eddie snorts, but his eyes are curious and kind.
“Because— because you have to be Noble to earn it? I don’t know!” Eddie laughs like he finds the answer cute. Steve doubles down. “That makes perfect sense, and you know it. A Noble Prize for a Noble Effort. Tell me I’m wrong.”
“You’re wrong,” Dustin grunts as he unlocks the cellar doors. “Now come on.”
The cellar's just as creepy as Steve remembers: low ceiling, dusty cement blocks, a single, sad lightbulb dangling on a string. He eyes the dark corner on the far side of the squat room, bricked up now but it wasn't before; there were tunnels under here, once, vast networks like blood vessels to the beating heart of a monster Steve still can't fully comprehend. He grips the bat a little tighter.
"—Shit," Dustin says suddenly, cutting himself off mid-ramble about how cool his latest science project is, how it puts Cerebro to shame. "I forgot the remote." "You want me to go get it?" Steve offers. "No!" Dustin says it in a rush, then stammers, "No, that's okay. You won't know what to look for." He seems nervous. Jittery. Maybe the cellar creeps him out, too. "Be right back, just wait here."
"Grreeeat," Eddie replies as Dustin jogs back up the stairs, cupping his hands around his mouth to call sarcastically after him, "We'll just be loitering in your murder basement, then; take your time!"
With Dustin gone, there’s nothing to do but stand there metaphorically twiddling their thumbs. Steve’s idly swinging his bat in a wide sweep around his calves, and Eddie’s staring at the ground, scuffing the toe of his shoe into a streak of dirt, arms crossed over his chest, head bowed. He’s humming something that Steve can't quite make out, but it doesn't sound like the stuff he usually blasts from his van. It's softer. Easy. Almost pop.
“Hey, wait a sec...” Steve holds up a finger, turning his good ear toward the stairs. The leafy crunch of footsteps isn’t getting any quieter, and now it sounds like there are two pairs, getting louder; circling back. “You hear that?”
Eddie nods. Looks serious and spooked. Steve raises his bat, a sudden spike of fear; he creeps over to the stairs. “Hey,” he calls to the darkness. The rustling noise picks up, a swish of movement through the brush, and then the crrrrroak of something metal. Something heavy, groaning on its—
Hinges. Hinges. Son of a bitch, the cellar doors. “Hey!” he shouts, breaking into a run. “HEY—!”
BOOMMMM.
The doors slam shut with a heavy crash and the grating clink of more metal scraping metal. Steve bolts up the stairs, shoves with all his strength against the slanted doors above him. The doors don’t budge. “What the fuck?” Eddie shouts from the bottom of the stairs.
Steve pounds against the doors. “HENDERSON?”
Eddie comes up to join him, using his forearms like battering rams to try to bash the doors open. His voice cracks when he hollers, “Henderson, for real, man! I-if this is some kinda- some kinda sick fucking joke it isn’t funny!!”
“It’s for your own good!!” a voice that isn’t Dustin yells through the gap in the doors, and Eddie squawks, “MIKE?”
Mike?? MIKE?? Oh, that goddamned ungrateful, conniving little—
“We just wanted you two to talk to each other!” Mike says.
Dustin adds, “For real this time."
“Yeah, for real this time!”
Steve punches the doors, and Eddie bares his teeth like he can scorch a hole through the metal with the heat of his glare alone. “Wheeler, you are SO dead!!”
“So fucking dead!!!” Steve agrees.
---
part 16
tag list below the cut, comment if you want to be added tomorrow (or dm me if you want to be removed)
@acedorerryn @ahsokatanoss @annabanannabeth @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awolfstudio @bananahoneycomb @bronwenmarie @burymestanding @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @courtjestermunson @cr0w-culture @cuips-not-cute @dawners @dontwasteyourchances @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple @eriquin @estrellami-1 @evillittleguy @fandomfix8 @foolofentirelytoomanyfandoms @goodolefashionedloverboi @gregre369 @griefabyss69 @grtwdsmwhr @heartsong18 @hellion-child @hotluncheddie @jackiemonroe5512 @jaytriesstuff @littlebluejane @lololol-1234 @marklee-blackmore @messrs-weasley @nburkhardt @noodle-shenaniganery @novelnovella @perseus-notjackson @ppunkpuppyy @runninriot @sadcanadianwinter @silver-snaffles @singmeyoursimpsong @slowandsteddie @slutforcoffein @solalasoforth @spookednsaucy @steddieas-shegoes @steddie-island @stevesbipanic @steves-strapcollection
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yannaryartside · 4 months
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A revision of Claire’s “pushing” and who really benefits from it
A list of red flags I have been thinking about.
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gif by @felixcarlucci
I was reading this post and reflecting on why it felt, like @brokenwinebox mentioned, that Carmy was always in the passenger seat in the relationship with Claire (physically and metaphorically); their post is amazing, by the way, talking about this concept of "pushing" and how it should be a mutual thing.
I want to go back to the party and the context of Carmy and Claire's past. All of it is enhanced by that interview with Molly we have been discussing.
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My biggest question here is:
Why? Why the hell Claire "could tell" that Carmy wanted a relationship with her? They hadn't spoken in more than a decade, for real, wtf kind of signal did she see that he wanted to be with her? Does she think he has been in love with her all this time? Did she get that idea when she supposedly met Mickey? Because if she pursues Carmy, assuming he has feelings for her but only assuming this because of what other people told her, that is kinda fucked up. It all goes back to Fak being the one that tells her that Carmy loved her after all that shit he said while being stuck in the fridge. I swear to God that the more Molly says things favoring ClairexCarmy, the more red flags I see. Did Claire pursue Carmy knowing it would be a sure thing. "Oh yeah I remember you, you had the most obvious crush on me"
There is also the context of both of them growing up in the same spaces, Carmy very shy and Claire a very popular girl. Did she hear how lonely that was, which made her assume he was avoiding her because of a lack of social experience?
In their first phone call, she never let him explain if he was bussy, even after all that talk of her being supportive of the restaurant she said "don't make this weird," Claire was completely dismissing that Carmy was indeed doing something important to him; she never offered to work around both of their schedules, almost like she knew that if she "pushed" enough, she would get what she wanted.
And even that, their first date or hangout is not to a coffee place, maybe a restaurant with Claire actually interested in Carmy's profession and passion, or any other place they could get to actually know each other after, I repeat, a decade of not seeing each other. She brought him to a party.
She knows the Berzattos and how gatering will go on their avail, she knows Michael will set things on fire, she knows he comes from a family of addicts, and she knows carmy had difficulties on social environments (we can assume by the pictures they had around, taht Carmy attended to her birthday party and other stuff surely).
So why the fuck, on their first "date," not only does she insist on going to a party, but she tells him that he "owns her" to go there? Where there is alcohol and other people that he may felt rejected for as a kid? She knows this is a scenario that may cause him anxiety or discomfort, and she insists he must go. Maybe I am projecting a little bit here, since I am autistic, and at some point in all my friendships or relationships, I have to have a conversation about places that, because of my disability, I don't enjoy.
(little note aside: the excuse "my friend needs me" to convince him to go was utterly pathetic. Almost as much as "you own me.")
But what does this mean coming from Claire in the "pushing" thing? Does she feel she can push him to become (kinda by force) the person that will hang out in the same places as she does, assuming that is still what he wants?
She also knows that he probably felt cast aside from social events because of his shyness, and she invites him to provide all the things that may cause her to look like his only anchor in this stressful scenario.
She brought him the soft drink, tried to tell other people what a cool job he has, and told him what to do to comfort and upset a friend of hers. It felt like she was walking him on a tutorial on "how to be normal," and I didn't like that at all. Again, I may be projecting here, but the dynamic was kind of hollow regardless.
It is not like it is bad for Carmen to socialize and whatever. But she removed his agency completely; it feels like manipulation on many levels because she has perceived a lot of his struggle in this area; she also ignored his first reaction to going to the party and flipped her way. Carmy ended up trapped with a lot of immature young adults with whom he definitely has nothing in common. There was no space for actual empathy or connection to him to "come out of his shell." His conversations with Sydney are so natural because of this; there is connection and mutual respect, and he was very out of his shell with her.
The Pushing between Carmy and Syd this next season will likely be in a professional context but also rooted in a (future) agreement on mutual collaboration. But my feelings about this are not only for sydcarmy.
The "pushing" in ClairexCarmy was always in the context of Claire getting what she wanted and Carmy having to force himself to make it happen. There was no discussion, no middle ground, not even a recognition of why certain things have been difficult for you in the past; it is not an actual intention of helping to heal, but an expectation of the other to go your way "because they want you/love you. Claire is sure that only because of her will he want to change, and she will gain his heart by providing the scenario for all these things Carmy desperately wanted as a kid. I am sorry, Storer, if this is the love story you want to sell us, a salvation of all lonely/hurt people, I am very sorry, I hate it with all my heart.
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itsdefinitely · 10 months
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I got a lil too excited to wait anymore so I drew myself in the pokey dating sim fit. I hope you like it/it's accurate to your vision!
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[Image Description: A drawing of someone with blue hair standing, hand on their hips. They're wearing the MC outfit for Pokey. It's a grey robe with several white stars at the hem. The middle part of it is blue and covered in a lighter blue that forms cracks. Their midsection is wrapped in a cloth of the same blue to the cracks. They're wearing a kind of half-cape, or a shawl, or something to that nature that has the same pattern to the middle of the robe. On the top of their head is a pair of blue sunglasses made to look like it's melting. End ID]
AUAUAAAAUAJHFUGUAUAUAUAYAYYAYA6A7GFUA7AAAYA6AUUAYAHAUAAYYAUDHYYUUAUAHSIGKKGJSJQIIWUGUVUSIIQKWNFHUFISOQKSNVJJFYAYAGAEYAU6E (cue the standing ovation) (cue the studio audience going "ooooooo") (cue the GLITTER and CONFETTI)
i'm going CRAZY i'm going INSANE i am DANCING AROUND WOOOHOOOOOOO (i'm like if the autism creature fucking exploded into viscera)
first of all oh my god????? thank you???? (to answer the other ask) i love fanart in any form i THRIVE on it so yes drawing the LiB MC outfits is completely fine with me, but also oh my god??????????????
second of all i'm hanging this on my metaphorical fridge. immediately.
third of all sorry for taking so long to answer the other ask!! i'm chronically bad at answering things on time
fourth of all RRRRRRRARAAAAAUUUUYYGHHHHHHHHJHH EVERYONE LOOK AT THIS RIGHT NOW ARE YOU SEEING??? ARE YOU LOOKING??? AUGHHH
fifth of all (for prosperity) oh my god. holy fuck. i need to lie down
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charmwasjess · 6 months
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ill gladly help you procrastinate u know that
23 & 17 👀
Boli, you are simply magnificent. I've spent upwards of thirty minutes not working while I was writing this up. 17. there should be more of this type of fic/art This isn't a problem so much as a good sign of the thriving fandom economy where people are writing big, rich, interesting stories - AUs, fix-it, time travels, what ifs - and I read those fics avidly. But I've been really craving the old "slice of life" one shot recently. Let me hang out with your dudes (gn) just doing their thing for a couple thousand words. Small moments, ordinary daily things. I love it. Same for art. Little domestic snapshots just get me. This is also a chance to say something I like about your writing specifically, Boli, because you incorporate a lot of this kind of scene into Mud fic while balancing the bigger plot elements. Thinking of that great bar scene. <3 23. ship I've come around to Syku is probably the big obvious one here since I spent so long (decade) waffling on writing Dooku in any kind of romantic thing. Then, reason slipped from my nerveless fingers and shattered. I dissolved About Them. But you poor people watched that happen to me in real time so I won't go on and on about it. No description can match the experience of watching me daily embarrass myself on here over them.
You know what one I weirdly have come to love? Obimaul. At first I was like "oh sw fandom, you'll ship anything lolol" and then I watched the Maul Clone Wars episodes and I was like... okay... okay... yeah, so, I get you want to specifically murder him and everything, but the way you're keening "Kenobi" right now...
It's kind of really fucking sad? Like Maul is this person who had been literally broken in half, and that's before you get to the metaphorical damage of being essentially enslaved by Sidious his whole life. I mean Maul's origin story makes Dooku's kid trauma look like a trip to Disney World. This person who fundamentally does not know about love, having been fed a diet of pain and hate all his life, getting into the murderous jealous one-sided sexual obsession with Obi-Wan, which is part inability to distinguish hate from lust, and part a pure desire to be Obi-Wan because he's representative of everything that was taken from Maul. He embodies every chance Maul never got. The (loving) Master. The community of people like him. The family. It's so dark and doomed and fucked up, but also so sad.
But I realize I'm not here to talk about shipping normal things, since my problematic main ship somehow manages to be both a Fridging and a Kill Your Gays trope...
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Buck & Eddie: Eddie’s refrigerator
(Clearing drafts and GIFs before the end of season 6)
Similar to Eddie’s couch, it appears the items that have been and continue to be displayed on the doors of his refrigerator are also metaphors included in The Buckley-Diaz Family’s story.  Even though the items have changed several times over the last four seasons, it appears they’ve always depicted where Eddie’s at in his life.  Also, the refrigerator suspiciously appeared for the first time in 3x11 “Seize the Day” which just so happened to be the first episode that showcased his navy-blue couch (his couch was grey in season 2 post linked here).
I started working on the GIFs for this post when I was preparing to answer an ask about the differences/similarities of the lighting, mood and food between Eddie’s living room and kitchen in 6x12 “Recovery” and 6x15 “Death and Taxes” (post linked here).  I decided to make a separate post about Eddie’s fridge while I was completing my answer to the ask.
Disclaimer: I reviewed season 2 to see if Eddie’s fridge was shown in any episodes and unless I missed it, the fridge wasn’t included in any scenes.  A brief overview of the things that happened during each season have been included below.
Season 3
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In 3x9 “Fallout” the kitchen scene happened and right after it, Eddie looked at the picture of SD and Chris as they prepared to walk out of the front door like he was ready to move on with his life.
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Reminder, Eddie gave Buck the biggest heart eyes ever in 3x10 “Christmas Spirit” which was right after the kitchen scene.
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In 3x11, Buck and Chris were shown horseplaying while they sat on Eddie’s couch right before Eddie told Chimney about the family they chose.
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Then Buck entered the kitchen and told Maddie “This is Eddie’s house, I’m not really a guest.”  Also, Eddie changed his will at the end of 3x15 “Eddie Begins” and named Buck to be Chris’ legal guardian.
Season 4
The doors on the fridge were almost identical to the way they looked in season 3 even though Eddie started dating AF in 4x6 “Jinx” and she told him about Charlie’s mother in 4x13 “Suspicion” before he was shot by a sniper.
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Reminder, he told Carla that AF was nice and it was easy being with her followed by Carla telling him, “Just be sure that you’re following your heart, not Christopher’s, ok?”  Eddie wasn’t following his heart because he was trying to make sure Christopher was happy even though he wasn’t.
Season 5
After Eddie broke up with AF in 5x3 “Desperate Measures”, except for the buttons that were hung on the top left door (when faced), the doors on his fridge were practically bare and it appears to represent where he was in life during those months.  He finally did something for himself instead of just for Christopher when he ended a relationship that he knew his heart wasn’t in.  He told AF, “Chris loves you so much” and she replied, “And eventually you thought you would too”.  Then he told Buck to “Move on” in 5x11 “Outside Looking In”, he had his breakdown in 5x13 “Fear-O-Phobia” and Buck gave him a drawing of his heart in 5x14 “Dumb Luck”.  Eddie had four panic attacks in 5A and after his breakdown in 5x13, he got better for himself during his time in therapy.  His fridge wasn’t shown anymore in season 5 after 5x14.
Season 6
The pictures appeared on the doors of the fridge during 6A and the picture of him and Chris from 2017 was taken after SD left them in El Paso, TX right before they moved to L.A.  Prior to 6x12 “Recovery”, all the pictures, i.e., Eddie and Chris (2017), Chris when he was a baby and Shannon and Chris (Christmas 2018) were hanging on the left door (when faced) but in 6x12 the picture of Eddie and Chris was on one door with the two pictures of SD and Chris on the other.
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Eddie does have a picture of all three of them from Christmas 2018 but it’s not hanging on the door.  The picture of SD and Chris from that day is included along with the one of them at the beach.
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Reminder, during season 3, the beach picture was in the living room next to the front door. 
There were two different calendars, the first one in 6x4 “Animal Instincts” was the Durand School calendar but it was changed in 6x8 “9-1-1 What’s Your Fantasy?”  Then the Durand School calendar reappeared in 6x12 but both calendars represent time.  Eddie’s always talking about time and it appears Marie’s comment in 6x15 “Death and Taxes” about “We’re all going to die alone” lit a fire underneath him.  When the picture of Chris and SD at the beach fell off the fridge and onto the floor in 6x15, Eddie remembered the other part of what Marie told him about spending time with loved ones while he still can and he called his mother to tell her they would travel to El Paso to visit them.
The items displayed on Eddie fridge now illustrate that he’s ready to do something for himself.  He’s preparing to move forward with his life the same way he was getting ready to do in season 3.  But the difference between season 3 and season 6 is the next time Eddie chooses a partner (Buck), he’ll be doing it for both himself and Christopher.
Will the items that were hanging on the doors of Eddie’s refrigerator change again once he and Buck become a CANON couple?  Only the showrunner(s), writers and producers know the answer to that question.
GIFs 3x11, 3x12, 4x8, 4x13, 5x3, 5x11, 5x14, 6x4, 6x5, 6x8, 6x12, 6x15
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quicksilver-castiel · 2 months
Text
Bang-up job
Pairing: Michael/Adam Milligan/Ghoul Impersonating Adam Milligan
Archive warnings: None
Other warnings: Mpreg, C-section (non-graphic gore), mention of kinky sex, cannibalism
Length: 4k
Rating: Mature
Summary:
Some days you wake up and the archangel living in your boyfriend's body (who your bf insists is also your boyfriend) has gotten fresh meat for you.
Other days, he tells you that you're pregnant.
That's just how it goes in life sometimes.
Read on AO3 or below
Michael had been talking about the invention of the broadsword when Ghoul came out of their bedroom, yawning and scratching his head. Now, it wasn’t that unusual for Michael to stop in his tracks when Ghoul showed up, or to abruptly change the topic, considering how often he took Ghoul’s presence as a challenge to insult him.
But today, what he said was: “Why is there a child growing in you?”
Adam choked on his Fruit Loops, and after several seconds of being unable to clear his airway, Michael took pity and smote the offending pieces of cereal.
Meanwhile, Ghoul was looking at Adam oddly. “You good?” he asked, padding over to the fridge as if nothing had happened.
“Um,” Adam made, and only then remembered that Michael had only used his projection. Since Ghoul could neither see nor hear it, of course he didn’t know what Adam had been choking about. “Uh, do you… do you feel okay? Anything, er, unusual today?”
Ghoul stopped rummaging in the fridge to peer at him, a stripe of meat hanging out from his mouth. Adam really hoped that it was from the corpse they had gotten for him, and not his bacon again. Last time Ghoul had tried pig, he had spent a day locked in the bathroom afterwards.
“Unusual how?” he asked, and the crunching sounds as he chewed made Adam breathe a sigh of relief.
Not his bacon, then.
You wanna take this one? Adam asked Michael in their head.
Not particularly.
Dude.
Michael sighed, and switched places with Adam. “You’re pregnant,” he said bluntly.
Smooth, Adam commented in their head.
“Say wha’?” Ghoul closed the fridge and blinked at them.
“You’re with child. Expectant. Have a bun in the oven.” Michael frowned at Ghoul’s belly. “And- oh.” He looked away.
“What?” Ghoul asked, sounding alarmed.
“It, um.” Michael cleared his throat. “It’s part angel.”
Wait. It’s yours?? Adam brought out his projection specifically to gape at Michael.
“Hold on. You’re saying that I’m preggers, and you’re the dad?” Ghoul asked.
“Technically, all three of us are the fathers, since we were all involved in the-”
“You. Knocked. Me. Up.” Ghoul took a step forward with each word, bringing him almost nose to nose with Michael. “Oh, I’m so suing you for child support.”
Michael narrowed his eyes at him. “I already provide you with food. Who do you think got that body that you’re eating right now?”
“Well, that’s easy for you. I want to really bleed you dry.” Ghoul grinned. “In the metaphorical sense, for once.”
“Not to burst your bubble,” Adam said, taking over the body for a moment, “but I doubt that any human court will take a case between two people who don’t legally exist.”
“Aw, don’t be such a sourpuss, Ads.”
“I also feel like none of us have actually, like, processed that there’s a child currently in you. I mean, my brain is kind of stuck on how the hell it even got in there, not to mention how it’s going to come out…”
Ghoul weighed his head. “I could snack on a woman and take on her form. Would that help?”
Michael gently took the reins of the body back. “You probably shouldn’t shift while pregnant. At least not if you want to keep it.”
Silence descended over the room. Adam hadn’t really thought about the option of getting rid of the baby yet.
“Right,” Ghoul said eventually. “So what, you just spontaneously became an expert in ghoul pregnancies?”
“The foetus is a part of your body. If you change your body, you would change it too, and possibly kill it,” Michael explained, staying uncharacteristically calm. “Oh, also I should probably tell you that humans usually die when giving birth to nephilim. You’re not human, but I assume that you’re in no less danger than one.”
“I’m sorry, the kid is gonna kill me?”
“No - this isn’t Oedipus. But the birth likely will.”
Well, can we do anything about it? Adam asked, alarmed.
“I don’t know if anything can be done. We could ask Raphael, but I would rather avoid it.”
Michael, we’re not letting Ghoul die just because you’d have to admit to your brother that you’ve been fucking him, Adam said sternly.
First of all, it wasn’t just me. You’re mostly responsible for this, Michael replied in their head. And secondly, if you want to tell Raphael so much, then go ahead.
Okay, Adam said, which was obviously not the answer Michael had expected. But Adam was already rising to the surface, taking over the body.
“Oh archangel Raphael, that thou art in Heaven, or on Earth, or- you know, Walmart, what do I know- anyway, we kind of have a problem, and Michael is afraid you’re gonna yell at him-”
Hey!
“-but we really need your help, because this is a medical thing and you’re the only one in the universe who may know enough about it to help us…”
Wings rustled behind Adam, and he turned around to find Raphael glaring at him.
“What is this about?” he asked gruffly, his eyes trailing the room - until they stopped at Ghoul. “And why does that thing have grace in it?”
Adam sighed, and prepared for a long explanation interrupted by frequent shouting.
“This may be the worst thing you’ve done yet,” Raphael kept grumbling even after he’d calmed down enough to actually let Adam finish the explanation.
Michael had taken back over by now, and was doing the appropriate amount of grovelling - which for him meant mostly hanging his head and not snarking back at the insults.
Meanwhile, Ghoul was chilling on the couch, slurping on a bag of blood. Or, well, he was pretending to chill anyway. Michael, he could live with, considering that the dude shared a ribcage with his very own Jiminy Cricket, but he wasn’t too sure about the other archangels. It was rare that one of them swung by, but it always put Ghoul on edge, feeling like he should have been hiding under the floorboards.
It annoyed him - he hadn’t lived like that in so long that the thought of going back to hiding and avoiding the light made him want to puke, even if it would only be for a few hours.
“We could simply burn the foetus out of it,” Raphael was suggesting, and Ghoul peered over the back of the couch to glare at the back of his head.
“It’s my child too, Raphael. Not to mention Adam’s.” Michael frowned. “I didn’t know any of us could get pregnant, but now that it has happened, I would rather keep it.”
Ghoul laid back down on the couch. At least Michael had some modicum of reason today, probably thanks to Adam. As he patted his own stomach, Ghoul wondered what he would do if it would come down to him or the child. If only one of them could live…
Ghoul would probably choose himself. Now, as for what Adam and Michael would choose…
“-be a way,” Raphael was saying when Ghoul zoned back in on the conversation. “Do you remember… what was his name… oh, right. Gadreel?”
Michael sounded like he was squinting when he said: “Vaguely.”
“He impregnated two human women, and both of them survived the birth. Now granted, those were not archangel nephilim, but it was one- well, two- of the only instances in which the mothers of any nephilim survived.”
“How did he do it?” Michael asked.
“When we interrogated him about it, he said that he had simply ‘not let them die’. I suppose that an angel could keep the body stable during the birth, either by possessing the person or by healing them. It wasn’t our top priority back then, so we didn’t really push for more detail.”
“Well, I’m not going to possess him.” Michael was silent for a moment. “Adam, he’s a ghoul, I don’t think I can possess him.”
Ghoul snorted. Those two were such weirdos, always talking amongst themselves. It wasn’t like Ghoul wanted that, like he wanted to have Michael in his noggin. He would probably be bitching the whole time, anyway. No, Sir, that was not something Ghoul wanted to experience, like, ever.
Just because Michael and Adam made it seem so weirdly intimate didn’t mean that he was jealous of them or anything.
“There’s not really anything more I can tell you, except that this is a colossal mistake,” Raphael said, and got up from his chair. “Now I need to get back to my work.”
“Of course, Raphael, th-” The rest of Michael’s sentence was lost to the loud rustling of wings. Michael sighed.
“Did you hear that?” he then called loudly.
Ghoul poked his head over the back of the couch again. “Yeah, yeah. Basically, I’m screwed unless you decide to be nice or whatever. So, should we call a coroner right away, or…?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I haven’t been feeding you every day just so you can die on us now. And besides, Adam and I won’t have time to take care of the child every minute of every day.”
So was Ghoul the family dog, or the nanny now? Maybe a mixture of both.
“Too gracious of you,” he grumbled.
“By the way, Adam has suggestions for the name of the child.”
“Let me guess: Kate if it’s a girl, and Gerard if it’s a boy.”
Michael seemed surprised. “Well… yes.”
“Figures.”
Adam already had a Mikey in his life, after all. And as for women, the guy was so fixated on his mom that it was a little creepy even to Ghoul. And he’d spent twenty years alone with his sister.
“We can go with Kate,” Ghoul said, “but we gotta talk about Gerard.”
“How about… Charles?” Michael asked.
Ghoul glared at him. “Seriously? Your dad fucking exploded you, and you want to name our kid after him?”
Michael looked away. “It was just a thought.”
A fucking stupid thought. “Might as well call the kid John,” Ghoul said acidly.
Michael hummed thoughtfully. “What was your father’s name?” he then asked.
“My dad? Well… we always called him dad.”
“Ah,” Michael said dryly.
“What? It’s not like we needed names, I mean, we were the only ghouls we even knew. Not much chance of confusing each other.”
“You never mentioned a mother.” That was Adam, who had apparently taken over again.
It was easy to differentiate the two - by the tone of their voice, and the way they held themselves. By now, Ghoul could even tell when they switched while fucking him from behind.
It was ridiculous to think that he had struggled with keeping them apart at one point.
“Oh,” Ghoul said, focusing back on the question. A mother. “I think dad got pregnant from sleeping with the husband of a dead lady he once ate. Ran into him at the cemetery, and he thought it was a dream or something. They banged on her grave.”
“Oh, so you have two dads,” Adam said wondrously.
“That guy isn’t my dad, he’s a sperm donor. I never even met him.”
“You know, our lives really aren’t that different…”
Except for the part where Adam hadn’t been forced to hide out in tombs and eat rotting corpses. But Ghoul kindly kept that to himself.
“So, can you ask your boyfriend what a nephilim baby is like?” Ghoul asked, trying to change the subject.
“First of all, he’s your boyfriend too,” Adam said. Michael continued: “And it’s ‘nephil baby’. Nephilim is the plural.”
“Okay, wise guy. Any other grammar suggestions, or can you answer the question already?”
“Well. To be honest, I don’t have much experience with nephilim. Not with letting them live, anyway.”
Ghoul turned over to groan into one of the couch cushions. “Oh, this is going to be an amazing time.”
“Okay, but are we sure that this is necessary?” Ghoul asked when the scalpel was about two inches from his belly.
“We’ve been over this, G.” Adam took one of Ghoul’s hands and squeezed it. “This is the only way we can ensure that she actually comes out.”
“Okay, but again, where has she even been growing if it’s not an organ meant to hold a kid, one that would be connected to-” Ghoul cringed and interrupted himself when the scalpel came closer again. “Fine, okay, yeah, can you just bring out the big guy now so I don’t, like, bleed out or whatever?”
Adam immediately traded with Michael, who had already been waiting just underneath their skin, buzzing with anticipation. It was part tension and part excitement, something that Adam could relate to very well.
This was the birth of their child, after all. Their little Kate.
As soon as Raphael brought the scalpel to Ghoul’s skin, he squeezed Michael’s hand so hard that Adam could feel grace pooling there to keep the bones from breaking.
Jesus Christ, Adam thought.
His birth was far less troublesome, I hear, Michael replied, an attempt at humour that Adam appreciated, though he wouldn’t have found it funny even if Ghoul’s life hadn’t been in danger.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Ghoul was chanting as Raphael cut him open. “Oh shit. Oh fuck. This is not fun, this is so not fun.”
“I could still knock you out,” Michael offered.
“I’M NOT MISSING THE BIRTH OF MY OWN CHILD, FUCK YOU, JUST LET ME BITCH ABOUT THIS!”
Michael blinked at him, even though he didn’t need to blink. “Right.”
“I suppose the anaesthesia failed,” Raphael commented dryly as he peeled layers of skin aside.
“I didn’t say it fucking hurts, I said it wasn’t fucking fun, y’all need to get off my case!!”
The way Ghoul was still squeezing their hand, it was clear that he was freaking out. Adam wanted to take over and talk to him, but if Michael wasn’t in control, then it would take longer for him to react if something happened. And that would probably freak Ghoul out even more.
“It’s okay, Raphael knows what he’s doing,” Michael said, surprisingly soothingly.
“Has he ever helped deliver a baby??”
The silence from both Michael and Raphael was very telling.
“I know exactly how the process works in both humans and countless other creatures,” Raphael said at last.
“Oh, good. A theoretician!”
“Keep still,” Raphael said, rather unnecessarily, since all of Ghoul’s body except one lower arm were strapped to the operating table. Even if he tried to, he could barely move.
“I hate this, I hate this, I hate this-” Ghoul kept cursing as Raphael worked, methodically and unphased by the less than content patient.
“You know, for someone who eats people, you have a very low tolerance for gore,” Michael commented, funnelling grace into him to make sure nothing vital was accidentally severed. Maybe it was another attempt at humour, but this time a misguided one.
“Fuck you, let’s see how you react if I- oh fuck, I forgot you like that.” Ghoul cringed when Raphael pushed some of his organs aside and fixed them with a retractor.
“We don’t have to talk about that here,” Michael hissed, stealing a glance at Raphael, who was obviously trying very hard not to listen. “But anyway, I thought since you like inflicting that sort of thing on people-”
“I’m a sadist, okay! Not a masochist! You know, like you, just the other way around!”
At least as long as Ghoul was yelling at Michael, he wasn’t focusing on his body being cut up, Adam supposed. For once, their tendency to argue seemed to work in their favour.
“I have been known to enjoy inflicting pain every now and then,” Michael said, more thoughtful than argumentative.
“Wait, for real? Are you a switch?” Ghoul gaped at him. “How did I not know that?”
“Well, as you said, you’re not a masochist. Adam is more open to it, as you should know, but it’s difficult to work with that when we share a body…”
They were interrupted by an odd sound - the wail of a baby, as Adam realised shortly before Michael moved their head in that direction. Raphael was holding a baby, covered in blood and mucus and falling tears. Adam could relate. If he’d just been ripped from a warm, cosy place, he would have been crying too.
“Shit. Fuck,” Ghoul said as he noticed that he couldn’t sit up to take his baby. “Take her and get me out of this! Wait, but heal me first…”
With another squeeze of his hand, Michael let more grace flow through Ghoul, and his wounds started closing up. Raphael stared at the spot he had cut before, then sighed and snapped his fingers. A retractor appeared next to him - oh, right, that had probably still been inside Ghoul.
“There, take it,” Raphael then said, and handed the baby over to Michael.
They had been researching lots of things the past few months, including how to properly hold a baby, so Michael knew what to do with his arms. But once little Kate was settled, he seemed to be at a loss, just staring down at her with wide eyes.
She’s beautiful, Adam said in their head.
“Why is she so filthy?” Ghoul asked aloud, finally free of the restraints and with his body mostly healed. He sat up to peer down at her.
“She just came out of your body.” Michael used his grace, and Kate’s body was instantly clean. She made a sound a bit like a giggle, as if the grace had tickled her.
“Okay. And why is she so scrungly?”
“So what?” Michael asked.
“You know. Lots of folds. Weird proportions. That sort of thing. Scrungly.”
“That’s not a word,” Michael muttered. “Also we literally looked at pictures of babies before, why are you surprised? They all look like this at first.”
“Sure, but she’s half angel. I kinda thought she’d come out looking like in those stained glass windows.”
“You thought she would look like a ridiculous human interpretation of the lowest class of angels?” Michael asked, offended. “She is not a Cherub!”
“Well, sorry for knowing jack shit about angels. Like it’s my fault!”
Guys… Adam sighed, and then remembered to take over the body. “Guys, can you chill for one minute? We have a daughter!”
That shut Ghoul up, and he peered down at little Kate again. “I know, just- it doesn’t feel real yet.”
“Do you want to hold her?” Adam would have loved to keep her for longer, but Ghoul hadn’t held her at all yet and he was the one who had carried her in his belly for nine months.
Ghoul hesitated, then very slowly and carefully took Kate from Adam.
He stared down at her. Kate was just starting to open her eyes - they were blue.
Ghoul immediately melted. “Just like her daddy.”
“All three of them,” Adam said, bemused. “She might even have blonde hair once she grows any.”
“If she wants to change it, I can always find meat with different hair for her.” Ghoul raised Kate higher on his chest, and frowned when she moved, making dissatisfied noises. “What does she want?”
“Maybe she’s hungry.” Adam had barely finished the sentence when a bottle of formula appeared in his hand, warm but not hot. “Thanks, bud.”
“Are you sure we wanna try that? She’s half ghoul, what if it upsets her stomach?” Ghoul complained, eyeing the bottle warily.
“Milk has never hurt you.”
“No, but her stomach is tiny. Look at her. She’ll have one drop of blood and be full.”
Adam rolled his eyes. “Just try the formula.”
Reluctantly, Ghoul took the bottle, and brought it close to Kate’s face. At first, she didn’t seem to know what to do with it, and Adam was just starting to get scared that she wouldn’t be able to feed when her little mouth finally latched on to the plastic nipple. She sucked for a while, then unlatched, and Ghoul already wanted to put down the bottle when she went for it again, and drank more.
Adam watched, fascinated, as their little girl drank greedily. When she unlatched again, she coughed, and two pairs of hands were on her in a heartbeat. There were also three pairs of wings wrapped around all three - four - of them, and Michael channelled some grace through their hands into Kate.
She just drank too fast, Michael determined. It’s fine now.
“Our impatient little baby,” Adam cooed at her. “I wonder where she gets it from.”
He grinned at Ghoul, who raised an eyebrow at him. “Yeah, it’s a real mystery. Who was it again who needed Michael to smite that piece of burger in his throat last week?”
“Oh, shut up.”
Surprisingly, it was Michael who offered to try feeding her blood. They had enough of it in the fridge, but he claimed that fresh would be better, and so he cut open his and Adam’s thumb and gave it to Kate to suck on.
And suck she did, as eagerly as her dad always slurped his milkshakes, and only a little bit more messy.
“She really got Ads’ eating habits,” Ghoul commented, and Michael huffed out a laugh.
It was a soft sound that Ghoul didn’t get to hear from him very often, though the big guy had admittedly mellowed out more the bigger Ghoul’s belly had become.
“If she’s anything like him, she will be a tiny menace,” Michael said fondly, “asking questions all the time, and never being satisfied with the answers.”
Ghoul could almost hear Adam protesting, and the growing smile on Michael’s face told him that he was.
“And if she’ll be anything like me?” Ghoul batted his eyelashes at Michael, which he had to take as long as he didn’t pull the thumb out of Kate’s mouth, seeing as how Ghoul was still holding her.
Making a cute face was easy enough with Adam’s face, though Michael was a tough nut to crack. Apparently, Adam had never been one to use his adorableness for manipulative purposes, so Chicken Wings wasn’t used to seeing that kind of expression on him.
The first few months, it had seemed to weird Michael out more than anything, though over time he had stopped frowning at Ghoul with a disturbed expression on his face when he did it, at least.
“If she’s anything like you,” Michael started, and then seemed to think about it, “then we’ll need to monitor her at all times.”
Boo, boring. “We need to do that anyway,” Ghoul muttered.
“True, for the first few years. But if she’s as cunning and manipulative as you are, then she will probably take over the world once she’s older.”
Ghoul blushed, and tampered down a smile. Michael had never complimented him that way before.
“Well, if she’s anything like you, then her rule will be bloody and full of terror,” Ghoul flirted back, inching closer so their mouths were almost touching.
“You’re all sick,” Raphael’s bored voice cut between them. “I’ll be going, before I see something that will haunt me for the rest of my existence.”
With a rustle of wings, he was gone. Truth be told, Ghoul had kind of forgotten that he’d even still been there.
“Who pissed in his Cheerios,” Ghoul muttered, and rocked Kate a little. She seemed tired, her eyes drooping, but she still sucked every now and then on her papa’s thumb.
“In the end, I suppose she will be like all of us, but also like none of us,” Michael said thoughtfully. “She will be her own person.”
“With her own issues,” Ghoul said cheerfully. “She even gets to have daddy issues times three!”
Michael scowled at him. “Why would she have issues with us?”
“Dunno, man, but being the kid of an archangel who tried to end the world, the dude from Minnesota who was ready to help him, and a ghoul who ate that dude from Minnesota once sounds to me like it’s predestined for some kinds of issues.”
“She has three fathers who love her, and none of which will die or vanish under mysterious circumstances,” Michael argued.
“Unless you decide to smite me one day.”
“If you go to Purgatory, I can just get you back.” Michael narrowed his eyes at Ghoul. “You’re not getting out of your responsibilities that easily.”
Ghoul couldn’t help it, he laughed. The baby in his arms seemed startled, and she let go of Michael’s thumb, but then she just closed her eyes and cuddled against Ghoul’s still shaking chest.
Yes, Kate would have many reasons to have issues, but Michael was right: She would also be loved. Maybe even forever and ever.
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tarisilmarwen · 1 year
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Rebels Rewatch: "The Future of the Force"
Adventures in babysitting, Rebels edition!
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You already know what I'm going to say, I never get tired of the pretty planets in this show.
This baby is named Alora, a bit of a Shout Out to Lucasfilm's underground cult classic Willow. No I have not watched the new show I have... not heard good things.
That it's Alora's grandmother that's the one traveling with her brings up some ah... disturbing Fridge Horror regarding her parents.
My theory: They 100% dead, Inquisitors already shanked them.
Ohhhhh you can tell from the horror in grandma's eyes she knows exactly why they want the baby.
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Well nice to know Seventh Sister is equal opportunity Bad Touch.
Aaaaaaand there goes Fifth, murdering all the witnesses.
Zero fanfare, just to punctuate the horror of that moment.
After five episodes of doing other stuff offscreen, Ahsoka finally decides to pay the main narrative a visit. I did and do still appreciate that the writers kept Ahsoka to a minimum, like Vader, knowing full well her presence would overshadow and overpower the others. Despite how easy it would have been to fanservice TCW carryover watchers by giving her tons of screentime, she stays mostly as a tertiary character throughout.
Which is why cramming what is essentially the Rebels sequel material into a show where she's the headliner annoys me.
Ahsoka and Kanan quipping about how neither of them are technically real Jedi is both cute and sad.
Ahsoka still deeply in denial about what she sensed when scanning Vader.
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Lol this whole moment. Love Ahsoka's fond little headshake.
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Love this city design, got a very St. Basil's Cathedral in Russia aesthetic to it.
Some of that influence in the music here too.
Oh wow, Zeb jumps out of the Phantom before it's even finished landing, lolol what a drama queen.
Bit sloppy to leave the transport hanging in that planet's airspace, unless the Empire plans to blow it up later.
Even without showing any of the bodies you know everyone on that transport is pretty much dead. It's really only the limits of the rating that prevent us from actually seeing them.
Grandma looks a lot paler here, I don't think she survives much longer past this point.
I talked about it before in "Always Two There Are" but I love subtle little bits of continuity like this, Zeb learning binary in order to understand Chopper, since he had such a hard time before.
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THIS HITS A BIT DIFFERENT WHEN YOU'RE A PARENT.
All I'm thinking is, "How long have they left that poor baby there?! Oh gosh she must be so hungry. Is there AC in there? Did they change her? I bet they didn't even change her, the bastards."
This whole episode reminds me SO strongly of the arc in TCW when Sidious contracted Cad Bane to steal Force Sensitive children for him. Would not be surprised if they were being used for the exact same purpose.
Is it me or do a LOT of Force Sensitive children seem to be born to impoverished single mothers? I wonder if it's a deliberate narrative choice sometimes, to lean into the adoption metaphor that being given up to and raised by the Jedi Order often is.
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He's so empathetic Imma cry.
Chopper's actually doing a decent job of keeping Alora happy lol.
Lol, Zeb being grossed out by the Ithorian baby.
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I think he's adorable, personally.
Maybe it's the mom in me but Zeb holding Pypey is just... super cute.
He's actually holding him mostly right, giving him plenty of support.
Pypey is just sensitive enough to recognize the danger the Inquisitors pose to him. :(((((((((
A very fragmented "Shenanigans" cue here, barely more than a few notes. Almost as if the danger is stifling the fun and whimsy that leitmotif usually signifies.
It's Ezra that recognizes the ID9 Seeker and makes Kanan stop, and they move in a very nice synchronized way to hide from it here.
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Underrated Papa Wolf Kanan moment: Kanan yanking Ezra back from the hallway junction just before the Inquisitors get within eyeline.
I shouldn't laugh but this whole scene with Zeb and Kanan and Ezra having no clue how to calm Pypey is so relatable.
(Babies be temperamental and sometimes you just gotta hold 'em.)
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There are so many little cute background moments of Ezra snuggling Pypey or making faces at Pypey aaaah they're so cute.
The detonator Zeb dropped gets flung back at them, Fifth's doing no doubt.
Kanan keeps putting his hand on Ezra's back on the stairs, it's sweet.
Fifth and Seventh sniping at each other lol.
Here's one of the moments of background Ezra being adorable with the baby.
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Ezra gets agitated when Kanan suggests he's going to be luring the Inquisitors away, ouch, poor boy's still not over the thing in "Call To Action".
Friiiiiick Ezra sensing Pypey's fear and Pypey sensing Ezra's and them stuck in a cyclical loop. :((((((
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I too ramble at my infants like this. Lol.
Ezra unlocks the secret to calming babies: Being calm yourself. <3
Obligatory "Seventh's voice actress is married to Kanan's voice actor" mention.
The smoke effects on this show continue to be excellent.
Someone, I think it was @pep-no, theorized that Pypey's special ability in the Force might be compelling honesty. That or connecting with Pypey made Ezra more emotionally open, because he normally would be smarter than to blurt out where the Rebellion is hiding in a spot where he suspects Seventh's seekers might be listening.
(Then again, Ezra tends not to have any kind of filter around people he trusts.)
I definitely think there's room for that interpretation, given Ezra's floating, distracted gaze.
Kanan does really well in his brief clash with Seventh.
Zeb hauling him like a piece of luggage is still funny tho.
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I love this environment. Feels very downtown LA.
A very heroic muted trumpet version of Ezra's theme as he steps forward bravely here.
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Protective little badass.
Also love Pypey being entranced with the lightsaber and trying to touch it. Baby no.
I love this cue. I haven't watched enough Clone Wars to discern if it's a carryover theme but it's awesome.
Ezra's confidence in Aunt Ahsoka. <333
*grumbles* Stupid auto anti-epilepsy features, it makes it so hard to see properly here.
I do like how effortlessly Ahsoka deals with the Inquisitors here.
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Chopper spinning the babies, awww.
Love how the ID9 comes to perch on Seventh's palm, it's so weird and animal-like. Like she's holding a jellyfish.
Ciffhanger reveal DUN DUN DUN.
This episode is so cute. It doesn't really effect much, besides emphasizing how dangerous a world it is that new Force Senstives are being born into (even moreseo than when there was a Jedi Order to take them in and shelter and protect them) and leading into the next episode's plot but it's a fun little romp with our characters and I just find it sweet and heartwarming.
Which we needed before the next episode's plot-heavy-ness.
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ains-disco-spam · 10 months
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posting my first ever fanfic and then hanging my 2 kudos up on my metaphorical fridge like a proud parent because my achievements matter even if they're small <3
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collapseintonever · 2 months
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wanted to show my appreciation so I made this thing (your art obv & the gif is by @transjudas) thank you for being a great friend!
This is so cute omg 🥺🥺🥺🥺 I'm hanging it on top of the metaphorical fridge of this blog, thank you so much for creating this ❤
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tinyvesselhearts · 1 year
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There's no place for us to stay (Egon x Reader)
Warnings: Heavy angst, hurt/comfort, Reader's father was a cultist
It's Chapter 10 of my Thing Is fanfic. Can be read as standalone.
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It’s nine in the evening. You crack the window and roll down the blinds. New York is a noisy city at any hour and you’ve grown used to it— to the incessant humming of engines, puddled streets and distant laughing— but in the familiar cacophony of sounds you hear one that seems unusual. You lean towards the pane and listen. There’s nothing there for a few seconds but when the noise appears once more, you realize it does not come from the city.
Someone’s knocking on the door.
You approach it, steps quiet, muscles tense. One peek through the peephole sets you at ease.
“Egon?”
You unlock the door. He’s there: tired, hair tousled from the air outside, cheeks cold. His eyes are focused and a little too alert for your liking.
“…Hi.” He breathes out. “I’m sorry for disturbing you so late but it’s urgent.”
“Come in.”
“Thank you.”
Your apartment is small but rather neat. You move near your cot and desk, slide into the kitchen and switch on the kettle. Egon follows through the room, mindful of knick- knacks laying on the floor. He walks inside. Leans back against the fridge, facing you. You pull out a mug for him, put in a sachet and hop on the counter.
The space is narrow. Clean air seeps through the window. Heat radiates. You almost touch.
“The subject came round”, Egon informs. “Am I mistaken to recall that it was Yog- Sothoth who tainted your father’s mind?”
“That’s correct. Is it somehow connected to our new acquaintance?”
“I hate to say it but yes. He claims to be his child. I suppose it was a metaphor but you can see how it all ties up to a very saddening conclusion.”
“…My dad?”
He nods.
The kettle whistles and you move to turn it off immediately, then tilt it and watch the teabag sink in hot water. A cloud of steam hits your face.
“Honestly, it sucks. I knew it somehow but hoped… I just hoped…” You shake your head, putting the kettle away. “…Uh. It’s not that easy. I was a kid. I don’t remember a lot, just bits and pieces. Nothing usable, really.”
“You’ve mentioned your father kept a journal.”
“My father’s diaries are in my uncle’s possession. He won’t give them to me. I’ve tried to talk him into that but he… he won’t do it. Not after what my dad did.”
Egon stares you in the eyes and raises a brow.
“We could try talking to him together.”
“You’re unhinged.”
“True. But I look reasonable.”
You bark out a laugh but it’s comes out a little teary. You haven’t slept enough for a long time now. The thoughts invading your mind are hazy and corrosive, they bump into your feelings and make you dizzy. Head feels light. Eyelids heavy. There’s a single drop hanging in the corner of your eye— but it’s okay, it’s a wound that’ll heal— and you’re not even sure why you’re crying but you are. In a few seconds your laugh turns into a sob, then another.
You hide your face away, cover it with both hands. Breathing seems hard all of a sudden. Eyes flooded and helpless. You bite your tongue and wait for the pain to mend whichever part of your soul is cracking.
Egon straightens and that’s enough for your knees to touch his hips. He offers you a hand. You reject it.
“No, no”, you swallow a bile. “I’m alright.”
“You don’t seem alright.”
You shake your head. Wipe the tears away. Cheeks are wetter than you thought.
“You’re one in a million, Egon Spengler. It’s my issue and I have to cope”, you sigh, looking through the window. “Let’s get it over with. I’ll just grab my coat and we’re going to get those diaries. The sooner, the better.”
“Are you sure you’re in a condition to go?”
“Yeah, yeah. It’ll pass. I cry for no reason sometimes.”
You slide off of the counter, oddly brushing against his abdomen and chest. You don’t dare look into his eyes. There’s a task at hand— a task you haven’t been strong enough to fulfill by yourself. Uncle Neil’s going to be pissed. He’ll yell and remind you of all the things you wish you’d forget. You hate it. Dread it. Despise going back to your youth because it’s all tainted with a huge, dark splat— with underlying grief and horror, forbidden knowledge spoiling your home and you were aware of none of it at that point. What happened later poisons the entire memory. You shut it out and haven’t looked that way in a long time.
You fasten the buttons of the coat. Your hands are shaking. Egon helps you with it and gently wraps a scarf around your neck.
The streets are cold and uninviting. Whatever comfort you’ve found in New York’s bustling aura has vanished— it’s all white noise now, dirt and smog, and neon lights. You walk on and on, leading Egon through the infrastructural maze. A few shortcuts taken, a few crossroads passed and you end up in a familiar area— steep pavement escalates like stairs, every step you trudge heavier, dejecting. Cracked concrete tiles have given in to mossy tufts. The air is wet and filled with scents of gravel, exhaust, junk and rubber— all of them painting a tactile reflection of the New York which became your home. Tonight, though, it’s anything but.
When you approach the dark mahogany door it’s almost ten.
Your heart  is racing. Uncle Neil might not even be in there. A part of your brain tries to placate the other but your body reacts for itself: cold sweat and shivers are hard to ignore. You reach out. Knock. Wait.
Footsteps come from the other side. Then, your whispered name. Whatever courage and strength you’ve had is gone right this instant and all you can do is squeeze your eyes shut. Don’t cry. Don’t cry, don’t cry—
The door cracks open. A familiar, slightly hunched old man rounds his eyes. His wrinkled features look warm but hardened by years of internal turmoil.
“Uncle—” you manage but his stern look diverts toward Egon.
“Who’s this?”
“Can we come in?”
He’s stalling for a good moment. He gives Egon a once- over, judges his hair, glasses, scarf and coat— and dear God, you’re grateful Egon’s right about looking like a trustworthy, reasonable man because uncle Neil doesn’t ask any more questions. He lets you in and closes the door.
“So?”
You swallow. You want to cling to Egon’s arm but it’s not the time.
“Do you remember when I told you about the men I met a while back?”
“…Are you serious? And you dare bring him home?”
“He’s a good friend. He knows what he’s doing”, you rush to say but it’s not leveled anymore, it’s almost desperate. “They’re scientists, uncle, not cultists.”
Neil’s teeth clench. Fists do, too. His face contorts into an awful expression you’ve tried to forget. It’s ugly, tough and unforgiving, and can only lead to a fight.
“You have learnt nothing. Stupid girl! You’re bringing doom on us all over again!”
“It isn’t like that! Please, just let me explain—"
“I can’t believe you’re doing this. And he’s, what, luring you in with some cheap tricks? You’ll go down right the same path Nancy did! One of them will charm you, get married and use you for whatever godforsaken practices they perform in the basement!  And you…”, Neil shakes his head, fuming. “You’ll stand by and watch your life get turned into ruin.”
You clench your teeth and fists. You shouldn’t engage, you should focus now— it’s not about you, it’s the diaries, don’t let it escalate— but it’s late, you’re tired and a flood of raw emotion overrides common sense.
“Do you honestly think I’d ever commit to someone who takes interest in ghosts after everything that happened?” You yell. “All I’m trying to do is the right thing! It’s not just about us anymore!”
“And it should stay that way! Not every fight is worth your time and effort. You have to let some things go, honey. It’s not your burden.”
“You’re right, sir. It’s ours”, Egon interjects. “I’m doctor Egon Spengler of the Ghostbusters. We are professionals. You might have heard. It’s not about you or your family but people who are getting hurt right this moment. We have reasons to assume the spreading sickness is a direct result of your brother’s misconduct. Every bit of information could help, the sooner the better. I will personally make sure your niece stays away from danger.”
“She could be away from danger, weren’t it for you!”
“The wrath of your brother stalks generations. His children as well. I hate to say this but I believe she might have been subjected to some shady practices and has been haunted by them for some time.”
“The names are there”, you whisper. “Yog- Sothoth. I didn’t want to tell you, you’d panic, it would be the ranch all over again…”
You’re caving in but Egon’s stare is calm and unwavering. He keeps looking into Neil’s eyes: honest, sensible, composed— and after a long minute Neil’s anger finally abates. He sighs, glances at you and takes note of how you’re half- hidden behind Egon’s coat. It’s safe, you want to say. He’s safe.
Uncle Neil straightens up.
“Look at the position I’m in, doctor Spengler. Put yourself in my shoes. What would you do?”
“Keep my family safe at all costs”, he says, doubtless. “Even if that took a toll on me.”
They stare at each other some more and then the unthinkable happens— Neil sighs, yields and disappears in a room on the left. Hollow sounds of moved furniture come from behind the door and when everything quiets down, the old man reemerges with his hands full.
The diaries.
“I’ll give them to your friend— and exclusively him”, he states. “I am parting with it with a heavy heart. Believe me, there’s nothing I hate more than giving them away. The amount of evil this knowledge can cause is abominable. You, honey, are strictly forbidden from reading it. That’s for your own sanity. Can you promise me that? No reading, not even a peek, are we clear?”
“Yes, uncle. We are. I won’t read it, cross my heart.”
He turns to Egon. Extends his hand and passes two thick tomes to him.
“This is it, doctor Spengler. The pink diaries”, he seems to hesitate for a second but the moment Egon touches the covers, Neil lets go. “They’re your responsibility. She’s the apple of your eye. Protect her. Do what you must. Don’t let me down.”
“Understood, sir.”
---
Neither of you speaks for the better part of your walk home. The air is crisp. Bits of sand and dirt crunch beneath your feet. As some point you reach for Egon’s hand and he hooks a pinky around your finger. It’s not much— and oddly apprehensive— but you try not to think much of it.
You take a final turn onto your street when Egon breaks the silence.
“What was you reason for joining our team?”
“Don’t you remember? I wanted to apply to Uni, Studies of the Paranormal. That’s the closest I could get.”
“At your uncle’s house you said you’d never commit to someone who took interest in ghosts.” He sounds a little distant, lost in thought. “Job is a form of commitment. And this job, specifically, exposes you to the very thing you swore to avoid.”
You shrug and let go of his hand.
“It’s different”, you utter. “I wouldn’t get married to my job. Or start a family. It’s strictly professional, not personal, it’s just… different.”
“But it’s not. Your uncle has a point there. You keep saying you want to stay away from the paranormal for fear of getting hurt, and yet you seem strikingly attracted to it.”
The tone is leveled but for some reason it feels almost accusatory. Your brows knit.
“Can we… not?”
“I want to understand.”
“Not today. Please.”
“Why?”
“It’s been a hectic few weeks”, you explain. “I’m exhausted. Let’s not do this today, shall we?”
“You do realize it isn’t going to get any calmer as long as you’re with us though, right?”
“Alright, hang on. That’s… whatever it is—” you grunt, pent up exasperation finding its way out. “What’s the point you’re trying to make? Do you want to ditch me from the team? Is that your way of protecting me?”
“Absolutely not. I’ve spotted inconsistency in your viewpoint and it bothers me. You haven’t just applied for any job. You’re working with the specialists on the paranormal. You are personally committed. We are friends.”
“Okay! Okay, maybe I am attracted to the paranormal, maybe I adore learning about it and maybe I finally feel like I belong somewhere, alright? I’m surrounded by people who don’t treat it as a curse, who share the enthusiasm! Who don’t try to force a taboo on my past but help me understand”, you pant. “I want you to prove me wrong, I try to convince myself it’s temporary but I’ve grown fond of you and it’s only making things harder. I’m getting attached. Comfortable. And it’s horrifying.”
You’re at your wit’s end— so much so that you fail to recognize your body’s trembling— but Egon doesn’t seem deterred by this. He keeps looking you in the eyes, takes a step forward.
“Only because your premise is fallacious. All things are temporary. You cannot escape the inevitable but you can decide what to do with the time you’re given.”
“Wow. Thanks for spelling it out for me. It magically made me feel worse.”
“Because you misunderstand. Fighting the passage of time is useless. You’re wasting your time and energy on things you can’t control and it is the sole reason for your despair”, he says. “Why not focus on possibilities instead? Enjoy what life brings. Allow yourself to let go for a change.”
“Let go?” You wheeze. “That’s rich, coming from you. Working your ass off to the point of falling asleep on a microscope? Dating a mood slime in the name of science? Offering me to sleep in your bed just to collect data?... All you do has a cause and purpose, Egon. Have you ever tried actually feeling something?”
The silence that follows is terrifying.
A car passes by. Some fliers get pushed by a gust of wind, then tarnished as they tangle into somebody’s shrub. Yesterday’s newspaper lands in a puddle of mud. It drowns in the sewer.
“Thanks for walking me home”, you manage because there isn’t much you can say.
“Pleasure. I shall go back to the station and start reading before our subject wakes again.”
“…Yes. See you tomorrow.”
A bile in your throat is almost unbearable so you walk towards the entrance of your apartment building. Each step you take is begrudging. It almost feels like the mud from the street crawls up your ankles and sheens— wraps around your legs, slows you down— like your trudging gets heavier— like the words you said taste of dirt and grime, and you should apologize but you don’t know how—
“Do you really think I don’t feel anything?”
You turn around.
Egon is still there, hands shoved deep in his pockets. His cheeks and nose are red from the cold. He’s calm. He's patient. He’s a beautiful soul.
Somehow your heart sinks even further.
“…I’m sorry. It was insolent. I keep forgetting you could fire me.”
“We’re talking as friends now, not coworkers.”
“I should not have said that”, your voice shakes, “I owe you an apology. Please, forgive me. It’s lack of sleep and constant stress. And probably having to face some heavy family shite I fully intended to forget about. Shouldn’t have brought it out on you, Egon. You’re a good man. I'm sorry.”
“I could stay with you tonight.”
“No”, you say because the guilt’s consuming you. “Go back to the station, Ray’s fresh out of the hospital. He’s in no shape to keep watch over our guest all night. I’ll cope.”
“If anything happens—”
“I’ll call.”
“…Right.”
When you walk into your apartment, it’s dark and cold again. You notice a full mug of cool tea standing by the sink.
You close your eyes, grab it and pour it down the drain.
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