#petey is here i repeat PETEY IS HERE!!

[atwhughesversion]

CANUCKS SKATE WE ARE SO BACK!!!

[larsnicklas]

elias "ever-so-slight smile" pettersson

[musicalslugs]

Grace and the Lords in Black: an analysis.

Okay, so, this may be obvious; although I haven’t seen anyone mention this as of yet. The link between Grace Chastity and the Lords in Black is clear, I mean we’ve all agreed that she seems to be like that, and Dirty Dudes must Die highlights her “corruption” plainly.

That being said! I think there may be more.

Firstly, the Lords in Black mention/talk to Grace first, before Peter and Stephanie (the arguable proper protagonists of this story).

Sure, Blinky’s motif is obvious, it’s of eyes, of watching and of observation. But to speak to Grace first, even if it seems (on the surface level) that it’s just to flex their omniscience and make her uncomfortable, is a little strange. Especially since they then speak mostly (only) to Steph for the rest of the song [The Summoning].

Secondly, because if that were all this wouldn’t be a very good analysis, we have her (Grace) and Nibbly being echoes of eachother.

“Swallow” and “devour” are synonymous. Both fit into Nibbly’s motif of consumption. Now, Grace could’ve said anything. Absorb, harness, control etc. I think the wording here is particular. Not exactly the same, but clearly within the same ball park.

What is exactly the same though, is Grace Chastity and Wiggly.

This may seem a bit out of left field at first, but hear me out.

In The Summoning, it is said that “Wiggly wants his Wrath”, Wrath is a vice, a sin. It may not be the exact opposite of Chastity, however Chastity is to do with restraint, whereas Wrath is very much, not so. Moreover, Wrath can be defined as ‘a great anger that expresses itself in a desire to punish someone’. Now… who else could be described as wrathful? Obviously Max. And Grace. I mean, her song is called Dirty Dudes must Die. As well as being a direct reflection of Max, it implies that she wants to harm someone. Punish someone though? Well, yes. Grace says “This is the consequence of what you’ve done!” - she must believe that death is a worthy punishment for their actions (being ‘pervs’). Thus, Wrath.

Lastly, and this is where the exactly comes in, Grace and Wiggly both say the same things. (Again, of course, I could write another analysis on how Grace and Max reflect each other beautifully by also saying the same/extremely similar things) The difference between Grace saying similar things to Max, is that she and Wiggly aren’t similar. It’s the same.

Example A) Stephy / Stephie.

Upon rewatching Nerdy Prudes Must Die and listening to the album on repeat, I noticed that no one bar these two call Stephanie: Stephie. I know Grace calls Ruth, Ruthy and Peter, Petey- so her calling Stephanie, Stephie, makes sense linguistically. That doesn’t take from the fact that Wiggly is the only other ‘person’ to use that particular moniker.

Example B) “bloody bits”

A particularly strange phrase that these two say. However, not really. The point of this analysis is to point out the links between the Lords in Black and Grace Chastity, specifically Wiggly and Grace. By pointing out the parallels in their idiolects, I have come to the conclusion that they are not only linked but INCREDIBLY similar.

Both are characters that use cutesy, almost childish language (“mommy spot” / “belly-well”) to disguise the violence, the wrath that lays beneath the surface. Wiggly (as shown in Black Friday) uses it as a facade. Throughout Black Friday and throughout The Summoning, he expresses himself as non-threatening (“We’re all pally-wals.” etc) before eventually showing what’s beneath the surface (“..deck the fucking halls!” / “We don’t give a shit about your phone!”). Both times are as abrupt as each other, showing that Wiggly has a fairly short temper. Grace doesn’t necessarily have a short temper, instead she has periods of ‘sin’, when stressed: Dirty Girl, calling “God a son of a B-Word”, smoking (after), having sex with Max, the scene of her ordering hot water etc etc. The visage, her carefully constructed facade, slips. Wether it’s because deep down she doesn’t believe in God (possibly shown in her “are you religious?” conversation with Shapiro), or that due to her upbringing she’s being confined, restrained, controlled, and this is when her ‘true self’ begins to peer through the cracks.

Either way, these are two characters who use similar themes (one of childishness, the other of purity/innocence (which can also be linked to childishness)) to cover their violence, their real selves.

Uhhh- anyway, watch Nerdy Prudes must Die on Youtube- it gave me brain worms.

[webslingingslasher]

okay buttt peter is constantly protected. not bc of spiderman but bc of his big scary dog privileges (his little scary gf)

*insert barking*

Peter could easily protect himself if need be. 

You do not agree. 

“Fuckin watch where you’re walking, man.” 

Peter wasn’t even at fault! The guy walked into him, and Peter’s too nice to say anything, he just nodded and moved you to the side, you refused to accept it. 

“Excuse me!” 

Peter pushed at your neck, his hand wrapped around the back. You shrugged him off and turned towards the offender. 

“You walked into him, you don’t get to be nasty. Maybe if you took your head out of your own ass you could admit your own faults!” 

The guy’s eyesight skimmed over your head to Peter’s, “watch your girl.” 

You boiled. 

“Watch? Like I’m a fucking dog? If anyone here needs to watch out it’s you! Because you’re a misogynist piece of sh-” your words blocked by the hand cupped over your mouth, you still shouted them but they were muffled by your boyfriends hand. 

“Have a good day, man.” 

You huffed, Peter’s just blowing off blatant disrespect, your hands started to pull at the one over your mouth, heated muffles started back up. His hold tightened, then repeated his words. 

When the stranger stalked off you slapped the hand over your mouth, “ you can’t just silence me!” 

“I just did, keep walking, trouble.” 

—-----------

Your boyfriend has been trying to settle you on the walk home, it hasn’t worked. 

“Baby, please. I know you’re upset but-” 

“He almost hit you!” 

You’re whisper shouting in the hallway in front of his door, his back is turned while he turns the key. He sighs with your complaint. 

“I know he did, but that just proves there’s no reason to get so angry.” 

“You always do this, Peter! You make me out to be this hothead when I’m just trying to protect you.” 

Peter rubs at his forehead, the frustration a little too high. 

“I don’t need you to protect me!” 

You freeze at his loud tone, his aunt comes creeping from the kitchen, ready to jump in if needed. 

“I just care about you.” You uttered the words, you knew they’d be pointless. 

“I’m glad you do, baby. But you start fights and guess who has to finish them every time?” 

“But if you would just say something then I wouldn’t have to jump-” 

Peter cut you off, sharply and loudly, it made you wince. 

“I’m trying to avoid a fight! You may think it’s cute to have your personal superhero at your disposal but I don’t like having to punch guys just because they think my girlfriend is a bitch.” 

You stutter, “a bitch?” 

Your boyfriend takes a deep breath, “all I’m saying is, not everything deserves a reaction.” 

If Peter doesn’t like you reacting or trying to cover his back, you won’t. You won’t waste energy where it wasn’t wanted, and like he said, you weren’t trying to make him finish your fights. 

“Okay. I’ll… I’ll react less.” 

It made him feel bad, he shouldn’t have oozed frustration on you, that guy really pissed him off too, but that doesn’t mean he has to confront him or fight him. 

“Hey, c’mere, trouble. Gimme a hug,” you tuck yourself into his chest, you grip the sides of his shirt tight. He holds you close and talks into your ear, “I’m sorry for yelling,” he didn’t yell but you tell him it’s okay. 

“You’re not a bitch, that’s why I gotta kick ass when someone calls you one.” 

You smile into his shirt and nudge him away, “you won’t have to deal with that anymore.” 

—--------------------

Peter misses his guard dog. He didn’t realize how much you stood up for him until he lost it. 

“Ah, they gave me the wrong coffee.” 

Normally, you’d grunt and stomp to the front for them to make it right. 

This time you pout, “that sucks, petey. Want some of mine?” 

He blinks, he’s not used to this. 

“No… no, it’s okay, I’ll um, go get a new one. Hang here?” 

The new coffee didn't taste as good when he had to work for it. 

Or at the movies. 

“I mean I know there are open seats still, but there’s a reason why they have you reserve them. I mean, it’s the principle.” 

You pat his arm, “it’s alright, honey. Let's sit a row behind them.” 

Your boyfriend pulled his arm from yours, “no, let’s not sit behind them. Because we’ll be the people that take seats from someone else.” 

He was hoping you’d catch the hint and pester the friends that took your seats, instead you shrug. 

“You could tell an usher, maybe they’ll move then?” 

He doesn’t want to be that person. 

“No, I mean…” Peter really misses his guard dog, he’d gladly punch anyone who tries to cross you if it meant he could avoid the awkward social interactions. 

“Would you-” 

A cheshire grin takes over your face, you had been waiting for this moment. 

“Yes.” You shove your sweater into his hands and proudly strut up the aisle and seats you were supposed to be in. 

“Excuse you,” the two boys look at you, then sit straighter so you can scoot by their knees. You give a delicate laugh, “no, no. Excuse you.” 

They flash a look to each other, “you’re in my seats, so please excuse yourselves.” 

You were being nicer, Peter told you not everything needed a reaction. 

“We’d rather sit here, if it’s cool.” You didn’t like his dismissive tone.

“I’d also like to sit here, since I reserved the seats. If that’s cool.” 

“There are like, thirty open seats babe. Take the one next to me if you’re so desperate.” 

“Listen here you little prick, these are my seats. There may be thirty open ones but you reserve them for the principal, alright? I won’t sit somewhere else because I’ll be the dick that took someone’s seats and the whole theater will have to play musical chairs because you circle jerkers can’t fucking move.” 

Your stare made the loud one sheepish, his friend ready to abandon the post stood. 

“Fuckin’ move, Ryan.” 

Ryan, the loud one, grumbled as he walked out the aisle. A proud smile takes place, you rest your hands on your hips and wave your boyfriend over. 

“Please never stop protecting me, I need it more than I thought.” 

You pat his hand on top of the arm rest, “I gotchu, babe.” 

[twistedbunni]

*~Filling the Loneliness~*

A Buggy x gn!reader

Tags: mix of angst, smut and fluff basically, a bit of voyeurism too

A/n: excuse mistakes I'm very rusty at writing but this damn clown has a chokehold on my mind. I wrote this with LABuggy in mind but it could fit Anime buggy as well tbh. The only derogatory word the user is called is sl*t and it's only used once.

Word count: 6683

It was just another day of work, managing the costume shop that you'd come to own somehow. It was a relatively good sized shop, selling a variety of clothing one might use for performances or wear to the masquerade themed parties the town held every week.

Your little costal town had been unofficially deemed a safe space for pirates to come dock without having to worry about being captured for bounty or fought off by other pirates. Hence why the town threw celebrations themed around casting aside one's identity to just enjoy a night of drinking and having fun without a worry for their own safety.

You never cared to attend the celebrations, instead using the time to do trivial tasks around the shop like checking inventory or working on new masks or makeups to sell. You were doing such right now infact.

Behind the counter you sat, working on some paperwork you needed to finish, calculating what had sold best this week compared to last week.

"Welcome in!" You called out when you heard the squeaking of the shop's old door opening, but did not glance up to check whom had come in. "I'll be with you in a moment, feel free to look around and let me know if you need any assistance finding what you need."

Footsteps approached the counter followed by the creaking of someone leaning against the counter across from you. "Actually doll you can help me, I came to get my usual order of things. So where's ole Petey?"

Keeping your eyes still glued to your papers you continued to work as you replied. "That old coot's dead. Died bout 3 weeks ago after drinking himself into a damn stupor and falling into the sea. So I'm in charge of this place now unfortunately, seeing as I was his only employee."

You heard a chuckle "That damn old man. I tried to warn him something would happen but I suppose he got what he deserves after partying too hard even at his old age."

"Got that right. Sure he was a good boss but the bastard drank more than any pirate that visits town." You scoffed finishing up your work and setting it aside. Finally looking up you instantly recognized the man before you. "Now how can I help- oh it's you."

The man stood up straight, fixing his coat proudly with a grin. "I see you know of the Great and flashy Buggy. Of course you would, I mean who wouldn't?"

Placing a hand on your hip as you stood from your seat, smiling back at the Clown pirate. "The boss never seemed to shut up about you, constantly talking about how you were his best customer.... amongst other things I'd rather not repeat."

His face fell a bit at your hinting of the old owner saying less than honorable things about him.

"Don't worry, I never took his rambling of you to heart. He was always a cranky drunkard who'd complain about anything or anyone he could." You reached over and patted Buggy on the shoulder reassuringly, before motioning to the backroom with a thumb. "Thankfully that man made notes about his regulars preferences so I'll be right back. Just gonna go grab em real quick so I can get you what you need without all the hassle of you having to explain your likes and dislikes of products to me."

The tall clown gave a nod, watching you disappear into the back of the shop. Taking the opportunity to glance around at the stock around him, mentally taking note of what had changed since he'd last been here about 3 months ago.

After a few minutes you returned holding his wanted poster, reading the scrawling of notes written on the back of it. "Let's see, looks like you prefer the typical Circus clown makeup, of course long lasting and as smudge proof as possible. Though we don't carry one of these brands anymore...-" You were deep in thought now mumbling as you moved around the shop grabbing the items noted on Buggy's preference sheet.

The said Clown Pirate stood leaning on the front counter, watching you zip around like a little mouse searching for all the usual products he buys. He had to admit you looked quite cute all worked up and focused on your job like that.

"The only thing we don't have from this list is the white face paint, but have no fear my good man for you're in luck." You placed down the small basket of products before him. You gave a small 'boop' to his nose with your finger before proudly crossing your arms. "I happen to make my own white face paint, and am willing to give you my latest batch if your interested."

"Oh really? And just what do you know about clown makeup little shop keep?" He asked you smugly, with a smirk

"A lot more than you think bozo. I was a mime for ten years, hence my fashion sense idiot." You gestured to yourself and your choice of clothing.

He admittedly hadn't really paid attention to what exactly you were wearing, more distracted by your actions and words. Though now he could see you were wearing black pants, that were doing wonders to make your thighs look great, and a oversized longsleeved striped black and white shirt, with some subtle mime makeup. "Huh. I hadn't even noticed."

You stood there silent for a second, before reaching up to pat his cheek a bit mockingly. "It's a good thing your attractive, cause you sure aren't that observant are ya bud?"

The man was thrown off guard at the fact you'd just complimented him, albeit also insulting him along with it. Usually he's the one being somewhat cheeky and flirty to others with no prevail, but here you were just casually complimenting him like it was nothing.

You moved back behind the counter, pulling a container of white paint, a handheld mirror, a few brushes as well as sponges, and a damp rag. "Well here let me show you just what I actually know about clown makeup."

Before Buggy could even process what was going on, you'd already snatched his head off his shoulders, now holding it between your hands. "Hey- Just what do you think your doing?!" He spat out at you in an annoyed tone, head already trying to wiggle free from your grasp.

"Take it easy hot stuff, you're too tall for me to do your makeup if your standing. I'm simply making this easier for both of us." You took a seat in your chair, laying Buggy's head on your lap between your thighs so he was facing upwards. "If you're a good boy who stays still I may even give you treat."

"Forward aren't we? Already putting my head between your legs and I've only just met you. I mean I know I'm flashy and all but I didn't realize I was having such an affect on you babe." He teases as the both of blush a bit at the position your in.

"Oh shut up, fool. Only in your dreams would your head actually be allowed between my legs in such a sinful manner." You cut off any reply he could give by begining to gently wipe the makeup off his face with the damp rag you'd pulled out previously. You made sure not to rub too hard as you scrubbed his face clean, though the red on his nose wasn't coming off at all.

He picked up on your confusion, rolling his eyes and sighing a bit annoyed. "That's not makeup sweetheart. My nose is just naturally big and red."

You smiled sheepishly. "Heh, sorry. I knew it was your natural nose I just didn't think it was naturally red as well."

"Yea yea, crack your jokes now about it so I don't have to hear them later" His eyes were looking elsewhere as he spoke, avoiding your gaze as much as he could.

You paused, looking into his eyes till he eventually gave in, making eye contact with you. "Why would I joke about something you can't control or change about yourself?"

"Cause everyone else does so why wouldn't you as well?" He stated matter of factly, while studying your gaze, seeing a flash of hurt for him in your eyes.

"Well, I'm not everyone else." Shifting your gaze to look at his nose for a second, and smiling faintly as you spoke. "In fact I think it's cute to be honest. Seeing it up close somewhat makes me want to give you a kiss right on it."

Buggy was well and truly lost for words now, just a blushing mess that was forced to look right at you. You just let him stay like that, giggling softly at his cheeks that seemed to be almost as red as his nose, before you finally gave him some sort of mercy by applying new makeup to his warmed face. The both of you stayed silent during the whole thing, you concentrating on the paint you were applying to Buggy's face as his head laid there in your lap, him studying every inch of your face as you worked.

He had to admit he was trying to memorize every little detail of your face, from the color of your eyes, to every little twitch of your lips while you focused, the way your tongue would poke out slightly and brow furrowed when you were painting thinner lines. He was trying to savor this moment while he could, knowing there was never a moment like this before nor would he ever possibly experience anything like this again. No one was or ever would treat him with such care and attention as you were currently, this truly was a once in a lifetime thing for him and he wanted to remember it forever.

Eventually you finished, putting down the paint brushes, and lifting the clowns head up in your hands to admire your masterpiece. A smile formed on your lips as you stood, moving to reunite Buggy's head to his body again and handed him the handheld mirror.

"Pretty good huh?" You spoke as he looked at your handy work.

You did the exact same look he had on before but there was a noticeable difference between his work and yours. His makeup had looked more messy and somewhat smudged before, as if he practically lived in it, where as now the lines were crisp and colors vibrant. He looked like a clown people would smile and laugh with, no longer one people feared instantly.

"Damn sweetheart, you're even better with your hands than I thought." He teased as he handed you back the mirror, giving you a wink and click of his tongue.

You winked back at him with a smirk. "Don't give me all the credit, I mean I had quite the attractive canvas to work with."

"You seem to really enjoy flattering me." His head cocked curiously at you "Or are you just this flirty with all your customers?"

You shrugged nonchalantly, starting to clean up the counter and repackage the products you used on him. "Nah, just you Buggy. I guess you could say I have a thing for clowns."

A floating hand grabbed your chin gently, guiding your gaze back to it's owner, whom was now leaning in dangerously close to your face. "Hmm, well too bad for you. I don't have a thing for chatty mimes."

He could have sworn your gaze had flicked to his lips for a moment before you licked your own, but he'd chalk it up to his desperately lonely mind imagining things. The hand let you go, reattaching itself as Buggy stepped back, away from the counter. You took a minute to snap back to reality, then went back to packing up his order.

The pirate began to roam a little, looking at all the different costumes and masks you had displayed around the shop. Maybe he could get a few new outfits for some of the crew before they all head back out to sea in a few days. Hell maybe he'd get himself a new flashier coat too, one that would really wow the audience when he makes his grand entrance every night.

"Got everything you need packed up and ready for you. Did you want to get anything else?" Your voice pulling him from his thoughts and luring him back over to you.

"Was thinking bout a new coat, something flashy, but I'll hold off till tomorrow on that." He spoke, pulling out a few coins to pay you with.

"Oh good! So I will get to see you again." A smile formed on your lips as you took the payment and slid the box of merchandise over to him.

"Of course! I would never deny a fan from seeing my greatness up close in person." He takes a dramatic bow towards you, before placing one hand over his heart. "What kind of performer would I be if I did such a thing?"

You just laughed at his theatrics, shaking your head a bit.

He grabs the box off the counter and headed to the door, turning to bid you farewell. "You've been a wonderful audience, but it's time for me to take my grand exit unfortunately."

"Farewell Captain Buggy. I'll be waiting patiently till your next performance." You give a small round of applause for him as he leaves.

You stand there for a minute or two, replaying the whole interaction in your head, letting out a frustrated cry when you realize something. "FUCK! I NEVER TOLD HIM MY NAME!!"

"Didn't tell whom your name?" A voice says, causing you to jump.

Turning you see famed pirate Mihawk, you jump once more. "Ah! Sorry sir! I didn't hear you come in, my apologies."

"It's quite alright, I will not fault you for being so lost in thought in your own store." He stoically dismissed your concerned apology, removing his hat and placing it on the counter. "I seem to have gotten a bit careless earlier and somehow got a cut in my hat. Am I correct to assume this is the place I can get it fixed up nicely and quickly?"

Looking at the mentioned cut you assessed it was something that you could indeed repair, and quite quickly. "Yes, I do not believe this will take me that long to patch up, and I'll make it as unnoticeable as possible of course. Give me about an hour and I'll have it good as new sir."

"Very good, I shall be back then." He gave a curt nod before leaving, and as soon as he was out the door, you immediately set to work on fixing the hole in his hat.

After one hour had past exactly, Mihawk came strolling back in, gaining the attention of the few locals that had come in to browse.

"Perfect timing I finished a mere moment ago." You handed him back his hat, watching as he inspected your craftsmanship intensely.

A smirk cracked on his lips as he glanced back up at you. "Very well done, you can not even tell it is there unless you look extremely closely at it. Of course no one will ever be close enough for that, so you have my thanks." He placed a hefty amount of money in your hands before leaving.

"Whoa! That guy's intense!" One of locals muttered as they came to the counter.

"Yes he is, but thankfully I was able to do a good repair job." You replied, starting to ring up the items they'd set down.

"He seemed quite pleased with your work, maybe he'd be willing to dance with ya at the celebration tonight." Someone else chimed in, as they got in line to be rung up.

"Don't be ridiculous. That man is much too serious for my liking, I'd feel on edge the whole time." You shuttered slightly at the thought. "I never go to any of the parties in town anyways, but even if I did I'd rather spend my time around someone more akin to Buggy honestly."

A scoff could be heard, followed by a disgusted toned response. "Really that loser? He's a pretty sorry excuse for a pirate don't ya think?"

A few other insults and comments were thrown in agreement by others in the shop.

"HEY, SHUT THE FUCK UP!" You shouted, causing everyone to jump and go quiet. "If y'all want to shit talk that man then: GET.. OUT..OF..MY..SHOP!" you put emphasis on those last words, pointing your gaze to each person, whom was just talking, with each word.

A few people gulped in fear at what you might do if they say anything more.

"Captain Buggy is a highly valued customer here, so if you want to run your mouths like that about him in front of me then there will not only be hell to pay, but you will also be banned from my shop for life."

Everyone remained silent and somewhat timid of you until they left the store thankfully.

God did that get you're blood boiling, and you weren't entirely sure why. Maybe it was the fact that the clown had just been in here early and then suddenly everyone's throwing around insults about him. Or maybe it was more so the fact that Buggy had wormed into your heart quite easily during the earlier interaction you'd had with him. Whatever it was, it caused you to be uncharacteristically protective of someone other than yourself or the few people you were actually fairly close to. He was risking his life out at sea, putting on showy performances of a lifetime, while everyone in town here just partied and got drunk constantly, yet they'd all looked down upon Buggy in distain.

Shaking your head clear of your thoughts, you began to occupy your time by sketching ideas and designs for costume pieces you could make to sell. Eventually you found yourself drafting up some designs for a flashy coat you'd think a certain blue haired pirate captain might not only enjoy but also look great in.

The squeaking of the door could be heard, pulling you from your current sketching, you looked up to find Buggy back in the shop.

Your face instantly lit up with a smile upon seeing him. "Hey there handsome, I thought you wouldn't be back till tomorrow."

He smiled back at you, making his way over to lean on the counter across from you. "Well what can I say? I was craving the love of an audience... well that and I realized you never gave me that treat for being a 'good boy' like you said earlier."

"Oh and just what kind of treat would the marvelous Buggy the Clown like?" You stood up, making your way around the counter to stand in front of him, placing your hands on your hips. "Maybe something like a free pair of gloves, or a discount on one of the pricer costume pieces, or maybe even a specially made mask that will fit around your cute nose?" At the mention of his nose you gave it a small 'boop' with your finger.

He gently grabbed the hand you used to tap his nose, holding in his as he looked into your eyes. "Actually I was more so hoping for that kiss you claimed you wanted to give me. Ya know the one you you said you want to give me on my nose you seem to like so much."

"Oh-" You were caught off guard a bit, in a good way however as it caused you to blush. "I suppose I can do that, yea.."

A wide smile grew on his face as you placed your hands on his shoulders, leaning up to place a small kiss to his bulbus red nose. You'd only pulled back a few inches away from his face, looking into his eyes for a moment before a mutual pull had you both leaning back in and connecting your lips. It was a sweet kiss, that lasted for what felt like hours but was probably only a minute or two in reality, though it left you both speechless for a moment.

"Uh wow, I um- wasn't expecting that sorry." Buggy said, breaking the calm silence you'd been in.

"Heh, yea me either, but I enjoyed it so don't apologize." You slid your hands up to cup his cheeks on either side of his head. Something felt weird though when you did. "Uh not to ruin the moment but you seem to be missing an ear..."

A nervous chuckle came from him. "Heh, about that..." He stopped speaking for a moment a bit embarrassed as his missing ear seemed to zip out of your back pocket and back to his head. "I kind of left it here earlier."

"When did you put that there?" You were more shocked at how it got his ear into your pocket without you knowing, than you were mad at him for seemingly spying on you.

"I did it while you were distracted with my theatrics of leaving." He smiled sheepishly. "I heard you defending my honor so to speak and felt bad about the whole spying thing after that so I decided to come back."

"Hmm, if you say so~" You squinted at him, being jokingly skeptical of his words.

"I'm willing to make up for the spying in anyway you want." He held his hands up, seemingly in a playful surrender.

You faked thinking really hard for a moment, before smiling and giving your response. "I suppose you can give me another kiss, then I'll forgive you."

A shit-eating grin plastered itself across Buggy's face, while his hands now detached pulled you close to him by your waist. "Oh that I'd me more than happy to do."

The two of you shared in another sweet kiss, this one with a bit more passion pouring from both of you. Neither of you wanted to be the first to pull away, though eventually when your lips had parted from each other's you remained there holding each other still.

A pit started to form in your stomach, the kiss was great sure but you hardly knew him. For all you know he could have a spouse and kids somewhere, yet here you were openly flirting and kissing him without even a second thought. There'd always been a sort of loneliness in you, always craving the love of another but never being able to find it. You had small flings during the time you were a mime, ridding yourself of that lonely feeling for short periods with the fleeting intimacy of your fellow performers. Though it had grown especially harder since you had moved here, to fight off that ache, no longer having the trusted company of others, only visiting pirates that brought danger with them and the townsfolk who only ever seem to care about partying their troubles away.

Then Buggy came in and you couldn't help latching on to the hope that those rumors of him being less of a threatening force were correct. Thinking he might be easier to approach, that he wouldn't be a threat to your own safety, and you could use him easily to fill that void again for at least the night. There would be no worry about catching feelings considering he only comes for supplies every few months from what you'd heard, and he surely would or has met others who catch his eye far better than you ever could.

It was all starting to make you feel guilty the more you thought about it. "I'm sorry Buggy."

His expression flushed with confusion. "Huh? What are you apologizing for?"

"I'm sorry that I don't fear you." You moved out of his grasp slowly, gaze now shifted to the floor.

More confusion. "How is that a bad thing exactly?"

A sigh escaped from you, back now facing the puzzled pirate. "Every other pirate that comes to town leaves me feeling on edge. Sure this town might be big on reputations not mattering here but I can't help but fear for my life around the few pirates that do come in to this little shop. You must have heard the fear I felt earlier over Mihawk's visit, yet I was completely at peace when I saw you. I guess I let the gossip people say about you being less threatening or less strong as others affect how I saw you. I kind of used you somewhat for my own selfish desires today or was at least planning on to."

"What do you mean by that exactly?" You couldn't read his emotion in his voice and you dated not look back at him.

"I've always longed to experience love but I never have been able to. I use to sleep around with my fellow performers to chase off my feelings of loneliness, though I can't do that anymore since I've moved to this town. The pirates bring too much uncertainty with them and the locals are all a bunch of careless party animals, but you've been described as somewhat of a push over. In my subconscious I guess I thought I could use you like a toy to make myself feel better with out caring about your own feelings since we're both pathetic cowards." As you spoke tears began softly falling from your eyes, causing your own makeup to become a mess. "I was wrong to think that though, and I realized it after you kissed me again. You don't deserve to be treated so poorly, especially not by me. I'm sorry Buggy for thinking so little of you, when in reality you are far greater than me."

Silence. No response from the man came, only the sound of you sniffing filled the air for what seemed like forever. Though finally detached gloved hands came to rest on your shoulders, snaking their way up your neck to cup your cheeks and wipe away your tears. Handless arms wrapping themselves around your waist from behind as Buggy's head floated Infront of you, looking into your eyes.

"It's okay sweetheart, there's no need to get so worked up over lil ole me. in all honesty I can't blame you or hate you at all for wanting to use me. I mean I would have used you right back." A bit of guilt hid behind his gaze, a small comforting smile on his painted lips. "I know I'm the great Buggy the Clown, but I'm in the exact same boat as you. Searching selfishly for small cures to fix the deep desire of wanting to be loved by someone. I've honestly used so many random people along my journey, never caring how'd they feel when I'd be gone the next day, never to see any of them again. There's no telling if I'd have ended up doing the same to you or not."

Staying there you a moment, both of you processing what you'd each admitted to, you could help but feel drawn to him again. Even if it was wrong of you to do considering all you'd said just now, you couldn't help but to reach up to cup his floating head, guiding his face towards yours again before kissing him.

"I'm sorry, i-" You started, but he cut you off.

"Don't be.." He said, connecting his lips back to yours again.

The kiss quickly turned passionate, it was clear that you both need this right now and there would be no resistance from either one of you. When you'd broken apart for a moment to catch your breaths, Buggy took the chance to spin you around and put himself together again. Now that your chests were pressing together, he recaptured your lips as one hand flew over to lock the shop's door and flip the sign to closed, before coming back to join the other hand in grabbing your ass. Your own hands found their way to his shoulders, one moving to his back as the other moved to softly tug off his bandana.

Tangling your fingers into his soft blue hair, few groans escaped him when you dared to tug at it. The sound only served to light a quickly growing fire of desire in you, which lead you to tug his hair some more in order to gain another few groans from him.

"Damn you really like my hair don't you?" He teased, trailing kisses down to your neck now, finding your sweet spot quickly, nibbling and sucking on it. "Though it's not fair I'm the only one making noise here."

You moaned at the feeling of his mouth marking up your neck, grinding your hips greedily against his, growing desperate for some form of friction between you two.

"Buggy~ pl-please" You whined a bit and he took the hint, using one of his hands to pin your waist against the counter while the other began to rub over your clothed crotch. He pulled his head away from your neck to watch the faces you were making at his touch. He felt he could watch you all day honestly, the way your eyes had become full of lust and your teeth gnawed on your bottom lip, was so mesmerizing to him. His own arousal and desire blossoming as he watched you try to plead with your eyes for him to touch you more. He maybe a killer but he knew how to be nice when he wanted, and thankfully he chose to play nice tonight by giving you what you wanted.

His hand stopped rubbing against your aching clothed loin, moving to undo your pants and pull them down.

When you tried to push your underwear along with them he stopped you. "No no- not yet." He picked you up, placing you so you were sitting at the edge of the counter, as he kneeled down to place his head between his legs. He started planting little kisses and bites along your thigh leading towards your core untill he was about to plant a kiss directly where you needed his touch the most, but instead switched to the other thigh, doing it over and over again to tease you.

"Captain please quit teasing~" you begged, not knowing how much more his little game you could handle before you'd go insane.

"Alright doll, but only cause you asked so nicely." Finally he removed your last bit of clothing covering your needy sex, planting tender kisses that only served to make you crave him even more.

Gradually he began to use his tongue, licking and sucking in all the right places and in all the right ways, drawing out moans from you, that he could only describe as beautiful. All the little moans, whimpers and curses of his name were music to his ears in all honesty, and he knew once he'd gone back out to sea they would haunt his dreams every night till he saw you again.

Of you in turn would be haunted by the memories of the way his mouth felt on you right now, the way it seemed to be effortlessly drawing you closer to your climax. "Buggy~ 'm close" Your hands tangled themselves in his hair, encouraging him to continue what he was currently doing until you had cum. Thankfully he did, letting you reach your high, then lapping up the mess you'd made without any hesitation.

Once he knew you'd come back down from your orgasm, he stood up and guiding you off the counter where you sat, moving to bend you over it instead. Removing his gloves and undoing his pants, his aching member flew around to your mouth while a few of his fingers began to tease your hole.

"Do me a favor babe, suck on that for me and get it nice and slick with your spit while I make sure your stretched out enough here for me to fit."

He didn't need to tell you twice, instantly you took the floating member into your mouth sucking on it and running your tongue over the tip. You took as much as you could into your mouth and throat, using your hand to spread excess drool over what little bit of length you couldn't. As you worked bobbing your head on his cock, he began to work your hole, starting by slowly inserting two of his digits into you, sliding them in and out a bit before scissoring them carefully inside you, and when he felt you were ready enough he inserted a third digit into the equation.

After a bit when he felt you were stretched out enough, and his dick was thoroughly lubed with your spit, he removed himself from both ends of you. Joining himself back together, he lined himself up with your entrance and slowly pushed in, groans escaping from both of you as he did. His movements were slow and steady to start, letting you get fully accustomed to the feeling of each other.

"Fuck, even with all that preparation your still so tight." He groaned out into your ear, his hands squeezing your hips tightly as he started to speed up his pace a little. "You doing okay? Nothing feels uncomfortable right?"

You shook your head, trying to remember how to speak anything but his name. "No- I'm fine- feels so good Buggy"

He plants a few kisses on your shoulder before he stands himself up straight, quickening his pace more till there's an audible slapping sound of your skin slapping against each other's. Just as you both were getting lost in the pleasure and feel of the other one's body, a knock errupts from the door.

The pair of you glance towards the door, seeing Mihawk standing in the window of it. Without even slowing down his thrusting for a second, Buggy detaches his torso and floats it to the door to answer it.

"What do you need?" You hear the clown ask annoyed, probably glaring daggers at the swordsman.

"I came to talk to the shop keep. I wanted to inquire about replacing the plume of my hat." Mihawk responds unfazed by the current situation.

"Really shit head? You can see were in the middle of something obviously, you couldn't wait till tomorrow to ask?" Buggy crosses his arms, now pissed at the man for interrupting you two over something so stupid. "Get lost, and If you bother me again while I'm fucking their brains out, I will kill you and serve them your heart in a pretty little box. Got it!?" With that he slams the door and relocks it, before his torso makes its way back over to you float Infront of you.

"Mmm~ Fuck that was kinda hot, and I loved the way you threatened him babe." You look up to meet his gaze.

"I know, I felt you clench a bit when I said it." He plants a kiss on your lips. "Now, that he's got me all pissed off I'm sorry but I'm gonna take it out on you. Sorry in advance"

He reconnects his body to his hips, gripping tightly onto your waist before picking up the pace of his thrusting till it's almost painful how quickly he's plunging in and out of you. Your hips are being harshly pressed into the counter's edge by force of his pounding, your brain going numb, only capable of barely forming his name on your lips occasionally or producing various loud groans of pleasure.

Somewhere in the hectic mess of your mind trying to keep ahold of what's going on, you realize you'd cum again, which only furthered the overstimulated mess of pleasure you'd become.

"Nng- Bu-ah-gy~" It was no use, you were desperately trying to beg him to slow down a little but words were far out of your reach in your current state.

"Shhh sweetheart" His removed head came up to rest beside your own to comfort you. "Only a little longer baby, I promise. I'm gonna cum soon and then we can take a break ok? You want me to come in you, right? Want me to make you mine, don't you?"

He weakly nodded in response as he kissed you, your mouths seemingly melding into one.

Finally his hips ceased all movement, burying himself as deep as he could before releasing into you. "Good slut~ see, doesn't it feel so nice to have my cum in you?"

Finally you regained the ability to speak. "Yes~ that was so... wonderful."

"I know it was, we practically had a standing ovation with all the clapping our bodies were making." He joked, removing himself slowly from you. "Now let me help you get cleaned up after that outstanding performance."

"I'd like that. We can go up the stairs in the backroom, I live above the shop." You stood up carefully but when you wobbled a bit Buggy instantly picked you up and carried you up to your bathroom, with the help of your directions. The pair of you bathed, him of course helping you clean and dry yourself off before you both moved to lie on your bed.

"Buggy, will you stay the night with me please?" You rested your head on his chest, curling up into his side.

"Of course. I couldn't even dream of leaving your side right now." He placed a few kisses to the top of your head while one of his hands now comfortingly rubbed your back.

Blissfully you both laid there silent, basking in the soft glow of the moon rising through the night sky and shining through your window. You could both hear the faint noise of people partying in town square, laughing and shouting in drunken glee, it serving as a form of white noise to your thought filled minds.

"Hey Buggy, can I make a proposition, well I guess it's more of a request?" You shifted so you could look into his eyes, that were now seemingly glowing in the low light.

"Sure my starlight. What is it?" A thumb ran over your cheek tenderly.

"Would you be willing to be mine?" You studied his face for a second as he thought. "I know I'm being a bit foolish here but you've filled that lonely void in me more than anyone else ever had. I honestly think I've fallen for you somewhat today and I don't want to lose you. I don't care if we can't see each other for months on end, just please let me selfishly love you for at least a little while and maybe you can even love me too."

Something twinkled in his eyes as you spoke, knowing he felt the same. You'd both lived your lives searching for someone to love, or someone who could love you back and now the two of you were here entwined in bed together. You'd both filled that empty void in each other, chased off the loneliness together and somehow grown attached to the other in less than a day. Even if this was only a fluke, a mistake on your part, Buggy wasn't going to question it in the slightest. You were practically begging for him of all people to love you, of course he wasn't going to deny your love. You were the first person to love him and want to be loved by him, he'd be an idiot if he pushed you away now.

"Of course! I'd give anything to be yours honestly!" He pulled you into a deep kiss, sealing your new relationship with tender passion. When he'd pulled away, the pair of you had eyes filled with joy.

"I do have one request of my own though, besides wanting you to be mine as well."

Curious and excited you nodded for him to continue.

"Can you finally tell me your name at least?"

[semischarmed]

Exterior

You lick your lips and let out a soft breath.

“Goddamn, what a looker,” you mouth silently.  

A thick crown of chestnut hair frames a strong face with angelic features. Brown eyes glint with a hint of olive in the sunlight.

You’ve seen him before, you think- at the airport after break. Probably an athlete for the university.

Sure, he was hot at the airport, but everybody always is. Seeing him out here though, out in the real world? Really fucking hot.

You struggle to remain inconspicuous as your eyes greedily stay on subject. As if sensing your stare, his brow furrows as he looks in your general direction. You dodge glances last minute, cursing your lack of self control.

Anyone looking at you could probably see the longing in your glance, the hunger, the desperation to stay fixated at his visage. Anyone looking would see lust clouding your mind, the hint of a dangerous smiling painting your face, hiding the untold horrors in planning. But, you were never one to be seen, to be perceived. Always a background character in someone else’s story. He would be correcting that.  

When the coast was clear, your eyes rush back to feast on his image. He sits with some friends, adam’s apple gently bobbing up and down as he chatted, hair waving in the breeze like hands beckoning you inside. Everyone in the group seems relatively loose and relaxed, aside from him. One makes a joke, causing the rest to laugh. He gives a grimace, mimicking a smile. Though likely off-putting to some, that hardy exterior only manages to drive your lust deeper.

Another pats him on the back, and your heart stirs. Somewhat deceptive given his limber form, you only note how dull the smack sounds. It’s a confirmation to you. A confirmation that this man is dense and packed to the brim with muscle. Your mouth watered at the sight of that musculature tensing before relaxing. A brief glimpse in the raw power brimming inside that cute bundle of flesh.

“Peter, c’mon… lighten up bro,” they say. Peter. Aha, so that was his name. You repeat the name softly under your breath. “Peter…Petey…Pete”. It has a nice ring to it. In your mind, you relay the events with his friends instead directly calling *you* Peter. Your mouth pulls into a smile as your dick stirs. You rub it lightly, feeling a little pre leak at the thought “Mmmhmm. Peter. Call me Petey. Has a nice ring to it”

After several more minutes of jokes between friends, you finally catch one to break his facade. There it was. A genuine smile. A beautiful smile. A delicious smile.

You had to have it.

- - -

You sneak into the locker that Saturday. As you do, you slowly close each door, locking it. Ensuring none could block the consummation your life and Peter’s.

Like a snake in the grass, you slowly make your way to the lonesome Peter, sitting on a bench and panting after a game. A slight scent of flowers drifts through the air. As you move closer, the scent of his laundry fades and makes way to the damp, drying sweat soaking his shirt. Must have been a tough match.

His musk feels divine. If you could, you would have stopped time to just lay there, drunk in the scent that was Peter post-match. But you would have all the time in the world to bless yourself in that sun-drenched Peter flavor you craved. Plus, you knew you had to be quick. A body- especially an athlete’s body like this would be  incredibly resilient. You need to do this now, while he was sore and immeasurably tired.

He takes a swig while you approach. Putting down the bottle, he pants and looks up at you through sweat-stained vision.

“Uhhh.. can I help you dude?” He asks.

“I just wanted to say, I’m a huge fan”.

“Thanks bro,” He says.

“Just looking at the way you fly through the court. Amazing.” A bold-faced lie, having skipped his match to prep this empty locker room.

“Thanks,” he states plainly.

“And the way those hot, hot muscles propel you forward…”

You motion to hug him. He tries to pull away but you’re quick to embrace him. He feels a prick in his shoulder as you dose him.

You feel his post-game sweat drip off his skin and over yours, and lust overrides reason. You can’t help but squeeze tighter and tighter.

“The way that perky ass jiggles when you walk... I bet you’re packing too, aren’t you?”

His face, initially cringing in awkward tension, now shifts to disgust as he tries to push you away. Blind in pleasure, you inch even closer and wrap your legs around that ass, as he feels your dick sandwiched between your two torsos harden.

“And that face… goddamn what a face. I bet it’d be amazing to wear it. To look at your friends through it and hear them call me your name.” In frenzy, you begin grinding your stiffened dick into the heat of the closeness of your two bodies pressed together. “…to hear your own mother call me Peter. FUCK! I can’t wait to be Peter!” You whimper as you felt cum shoot out, staining your shorts and his. As a bit of your cum lands his flesh, he is finally able to shake off the initial shock.

“Sick fucking FREAK!” He spits at your face as he pushes hard, leaving you several feet away. It draws blood and immediate pain, but you could only feel the hunger to have that might as your own to wield.

You corral the spit onto your tongue, sucking and savoring the taste of your future mouth.

“Man… fuck… so that’s what kissing us would taste like” you tease. You could practically taste the vitality brimming from his body.

He looks as if he’s about to gag, and begins to gesture moving away. He panics when he feels his movements slow.

“Honestly, with that tight fucking bod, I’m not sure how long before you break free of this.”

You begin to prep, stripping both your bodies naked. His head attempts to shake in defiance when he sees you pull two syringes from your pocket. You wink before jamming one into your arm and one into his.

The effects are instant, you feel your senses dull. You also feel your own body begin to soften as you move towards the naked Peter. After a few moments, your senses start pick up and explode and blend together. Every heartbeat, blood vessel, and neuron. You feel intimate control over every piece. It was overwhelming at first, truly feeling every bit of yourself. Looking at Peter, you knew you didn’t want to wait any longer to feel every bit of his.

You line your cocks together, pointing at each other. You then knead your dick slowly. Slit touches slit before inside begin to touch inside. Resistance bubbles in him as you see his arms clench and unclench, and his face wince at the foreign intrusion.

You sigh for a moment, admiring your handiwork. Peter’s dick appeared to be swallowing yours. That was partially true. You knew what you had actually done. Inside Peter’s dick lay your own, turned inside out so that both your insides faced each other.

He tries to scream, but can’t muster a sound beyond a low moan as you continue to knead and push and overlay more of your insides into his, your body turning inside out in the safety of his body. He sees your malleable form appear to deflate as more of your innards took flow in his.

“…aaaaAAAAAA. FUCKK.. FUUUUCK” He screamed. He starts to wiggle out the confines of his paralysis.

You know time is limited. In a rush, you use your nerves to commandeer his, swallowing all control of his dick as your own.

He screams and kicks in horror as he watches his own cock swallow inch upon inch of you like a worm. It happens in moments, and the force of the intrusion rocks his hips back, as his body makes room for you. His belly distends from all the added mass, causing him to lose balance and collapse.

“Oh god, oh god” he whimpers, as he gently feels his new belly, afraid of what was now inside him, what he could now no longer reach.

In the safety of your future body, you slow down, feeling yourself dissolve into a mass of parts.

Peter feels it in his legs first. Like millions of threads beneath his flesh, burrowing into his sinew. You don’t leave a crevice in the man untouched. In every part of his powerful legs, you weave and intertwine your fibers into his. He thrashes them in a tantrum, but the movement only causes him further displeasure, as he feels his own taught skin and muscle squeeze into wriggling masses. Into fusion.

You make quick work of his arms as well, greedily swallowing and interlacing whole pieces of Peter’s dense muscle fibers into yours. He screams as he feels his muscles in his biceps tear and repair themselves, fortified and irreversibly bonded to your fibers. With the half control you now had over his arms, you run them along his body and defile himself, dancing his fingers across and feeling every inch of your future self.

You make a quick stop at his heart, embracing it with your flesh to feel its power. There was a warmth in knowing this would soon be yours. He really was an athlete. You could feel the sheer energy in every pump.

After admiring your future core for a few moments, you decide to hijack it for yourself, pumping Peter’s heart full of your threads. Like a virus, you flood into his bloodstream, carried by the very organ that gives Peter his power. He’s unable to do anything aside from watch, as every vein and artery of his being pulse and writhe with you inside them. It takes a just a few pumps of the athlete’s heart to leave every juncture of his flesh connected to you. At last, you feel yourself in his own blood, coursing through him. If you had lips, you would lick them in anticipation at the last bastion of the old Peter- his head.

He squirms and smashes his head into the floor repeatedly, as he feels your fleshy mass slowly traveling up his vascular neck.

“I’m me! I’m me!” He repeats as he feels your brain touch his.

He grips his head in pain at first contact. Inside, your brain folds begin to slip into his, coalescing. The process is acutely violating for him, as he feels your thoughts inside of his own mind. Like a thousand needles, you inject every piece of your mind into his.

He pulls at his hair while trying to shake you off when he feels your sick perversions course inside him, then begins to get lightheaded as they start to come from him. He retches as he feels the thrill of possession, of violating his own flesh come from his own mind. Still, you made sure to keep the original Peter strung up and intact inside your shared mind. Something about keeping every bit of him tethered to you only riled you up further.

Breaths ragged, and screaming turned feral, he shouts one last war cry, as the last individuated pieces of yourself and his join and merge into one.

- - -

Your eyes blink open, woken by afternoon sun peering from the skylight.

You stand up groggy in the locker room as you try to piece the day’s events.

As you do, some stray hairs fall in front, and you see their gentle curl glow caramel in the filtered sunlight. “oh my god… oh my god,” you moan.

Upon hearing your velvety new baritone, your moan upgrades into a soft scream. You look down, seeing your new, long legs pushing you towering over your previous height, and the sun-tanned Peter-flesh and hairs now encapsulating them. ‘Fucking Stud’, you bite his lip.

Even standing, you could feel them brimming with power. You swing his arms back and forth, relishing in the control and precision they now had. Virile. Absolute god bod. You glance at the rest of your new, permanent meatsuit- Dick, already rock-hard and pulsating, abs, defined and glistening in the afternoon glow.

You slap your new cheeks, feeling them flush and jiggle with youth. Your Peter face pulls into a smile, wider and wider.

“I’m me, I’m me” you mock. “Welcome home, me”. You make him say to you.

His resilience, his power, his fucking body… yours.  

“FUCK! Oh God! Yes! Ugh… Fucking Mine. You’re all mine!” You scream. The pleasure is overstimulating, and you fall in a pool of your new body’s sweat.

His body. Yours. All muscle underneath. All at your whim. Molded, corrupted and rewired to betray its original owner and keep you forever locked safe inside.

His brain, his thoughts- last remnants of resistance that you keep as a souvenir. His own agency now tied to you. Through his brain, you feel Peter try to reign control, and in amusement you feel these thoughts pass through you.

Outside, his body spasms as he slowly regains sovereignty. He struggles to get up, body aching from the violation his insides endured. As he gets back up, he walks to the locker room mirror with worry in his eyes, trying catch anything out of the ordinary. He checks his face first, turning his neck from side to side. Slight relief paints Peter’s face.

He lifts his arms next, checking if they still listened to him. He begins to think he overshot the movement as his arms continue moving. Instead, horror begins to dawn on his face as his own hands run through his hair before landing on the back of his head. He trembles as he again wrestles for control. In concentration, drool escapes his lips and sweat dots his furrowed brow as his arms continue to shake but steadily move into a new position. Your position. They lock into a flex.

Slowly, Peter’s eyes blink close and face crinkles before wordlessly screaming into uncharacteristic pleasure. Then, those beautiful brown eyes with a hint of olive stare back, those beautiful lips smile back as you breath Peter’s air into the mirror, fogging it up for a moment before revealing his face swimming in perverse pleasure.

“…I-you-we feel fucking amazing. You think I’m ever leaving this fine, fine piece of ass? Bro? Bro… get real. I am never fucking leaving.”

Peter’s hands cup his own plump ass, squeezing tight. His vocal cords relay your moan, stifled by the slight pain.

With that, you reign back control of every cell and strand of sinew of your new flesh. You tune back into the folds of your brain inside of his, into his very thoughts and let his unburdened rage wash over you. Rage turns to revulsion as he promptly feels his own dick betray him and begin to throb. You love the feeling of his inner turmoil, his endless perseverance. Interspersed was the euphoria you felt in controlling his body, in wearing it as your own.

You also love it because these were his heightened emotions, raw and intoxicating, now turned internally, redirected. You fuel those very same emotions to his insides, causing them to tighten and squeeze the parts of you bonded to an eternal internal embrace even tighter.

A flex of the now-drenched hand and a slight scowl of triumph paints Peter’s face. He’s yours.

Everything he ever was, is and will be. Yours at last.

- - -

A few days later, a dormmate comes to your room. Apparently, the entire dorm had some form of event in a nearby beach.

You turn around and begin to remove your shirt before his eyes. As you do, you feel Pete’s struggle manifest as a muscle spasm. “GET THE FUCK OUT OF ME, I’M NOT EVEN GAY” He shouts and screams in defiance. You moan internally. In truth, you could tell his dick didn’t budge for men. Doesn’t matter. You pant softly as it hardens anyway, forced against its very nature into your own whims. This was your fuckstick, your cum to do with as you pleased. It felt fucking good to have him inside there with you fighting. Like a constant reminder that he was yours. You never wanted to take this divine body for granted.

“W-Why me?” He whimpers internally.

“Honestly bro? Something about you just felt right, your-our face. And that body? As soon as I saw it. I knew we were meant to be one.”

He’s silent after that.

Outside, all one would see is a single tear, escaping your new set of eyes, and you take a moment to relish his angst. As if to taunt him, you lick the tear, closing your eyes and smiling seductively. Internally, you grab Peter’s sense of self, snuggling into his personality as you feel your face externally begin to adopt his serious demeanor. These moments were always the best. When you were truly enveloped by Peter in all levels. Like when you called your new mother and father for the first time, and heard them call you their son. It was an actualization of your new identity. And it always made your stolen dick throb.

“So, uhhh, anyway… I’m Nate” The dormmate stammers as he stares at your defined musculature. The blushing Nate was quite a looker himself. You look back with disinterest and a cockiness previously uncharacteristic of Peter. Nate’s face looks disheartened.

Using your athlete strength, you rush him to the ground, grinding Peter’s sweaty bod into his and forcing your spit-lubed tongue into his gasp of surprise.

With your expert control over every piece of your new body, you snake Peter’s tongue over Nate’s, constricting it like a python. Likewise, You snake your new powerful arms and legs over his, locking him into your grinding hips. You tear away from the kiss savagely with a pop, and breath right over his face. “My body’s fucking hot isn’t it?”.

“F-fuckkkk” Nate huffed as his eyelids fluttered. You spot a growing stain on his board shorts and laugh callously in a way that just felt natural in body like Peter’s. “Bro, we gotta work on your fucking stamina”.

“Oh yeah… call me Petey,” you giggle, before pulling your lips into a wide-brimming smile.

-End-

Aaand that’s a wrap. What’d you think?

If you liked this story, surrender your body to me- work just keeps getting busier and busier, I swear I need another body or two to keep up with all of it haha.

[dylan-duke]

How Nora would react to Quinn coming back from a roadie and surprising her.

Like Nora was told his gonna come back at a later time, but he comes back early (aka when he was supposed to, but he told everyone to tell her otherwise)

quinn smiles at the secretary at nora's school as he walks in,

"mr. hughes coming to get nora?" quinn nods,

"yep. you ok if I sign her out?" the woman nods,

"let me just call her teacher and get her down here,"

"sounds good, but will you not say i'm here? i'm surprising her," the secretary smiles,

"of course. now just take a seat while we get her down here," quinn finishes signing nora out and takes a seat waiting for his daughter to be ready to go.

it takes about 10 minutes before he can hear his daughter,

"ms.friedman who's picking me up?" she asks,

"i don't know nora but go into the office and find out!" nora then walks in the door a squeal leaving her lips when she sees quinn.

"DADDY!" nora screams running into his arms as quinn stands,

"hi bug!"

"you're home!" quinn kisses her cheek,

"yep and we're gonna get lunch together!" nora nuzzles into him,

"you're home," she repeats again. it had been a long road trip and it was obvious that nora had missed her dad.

quinn smiles at the secretary giving a small wave as he walks out of the school,

"so lunch then skating?" he asks. nora nods enthusiastically,

"skating!?" quinn nods,

"yah and uncle brock and petey want to come!"

[deedala]

🎼 weekly tag wednesday 🤳

thanks for the game this week @jrooc and for tagging me!! also @creepkinginc @mybrainismelted @lingy910y @energievie 💖💖💖

Name: deanna

What is the most listened to artist in your music app of choice this month?

chappell roan

What song do you know all the lyrics to?

red wine supernova (and most of the songs on the rise and fall of a midwest princess)

What song do you pretend to know all the lyrics to and sing along to even though you don't?

kaleidoscope

If you were to be crowned Queen/King/Royalty of listening to a band or artist, who would that be? (Shoutout Misobot)

well ACTUALLY...i do have the chappell roan crown on the fic server

What band/artist surprises you the most on your frequently listened to artists?

none of them surprise me, i know exactly what i have on repeat 🥲

Favourite line from a song (or one you have been thinking about lately?

"i want this like a cigarette, can we drag it out and never quit' (guilty pleasure - chappell roan) - i just think its so clever and poetic and it gives ian and mickey in a way i cannot get over

Guilty pleasure band or song?

i dunno!! i guess maybe all my silly little nerd songs from or about video games

Okay let's talk fandom music:

Fave band or song you've discovered from a Fan Fic?

i've not discovered any from fanfics but i have gotten some fuckin amazing songs from gifsets!! petey is the one artist who i have become extremely invested in the most after seeing lyrics in a gifset.

Fave Fanfic Playlist?

hi its me, one of the outliers?? that doesnt really dive into peoples fic playlists sorry 🫠

Fave Gallavich song?

like songs officially from gallavich moments in the show? if so, then: pink + white

Do you listen to music recommended by the writer or an included playlist?

not really, however i will occasionally add songs to my shameless playlist that are mentioned in fics. like i definitely have listened to i believe in a thing called love like 8 million times because of CG!

What song do you think is Gallavich coded?

surely i can shove the gallavich puzzle piece into any song hole?? here's one: sad to breathe - the japanese house

What’s a bop you want to share with your mutuals today? 

do i rec chappell when she's already spreading through the fandom like wildfire at this point?? 😆 here have something old:

circles - soul coughing

and now i shall tag some nuggets if you would like to play. if you would like to pass then please accept some awkward fingerguns from across the room ilu 👉👉 @heymacy @michellemisfit @tanktopgallavich @too-schoolforcool @darlingian @heymrspatel @thepupperino @metalheadmickey @softmick @callivich @vintagelacerosette @gallawitchxx @whatwouldmickeydo @mickeysgaymom @suzy-queued @crossmydna @gardenerian @mmmichyyy @the-rat-wins @sam-loves-seb @blue-disco-lights @sickness-health-all-that-shit @samantitheos @wehangout @squirrel-fund @loftec @iansw0rld @transmickey @tsuga-of-mars @lee-ow @ardent-fox @rereadanon @palepinkgoat @themarchg1rl @thisdivorce @sleepyfacetoughguy @purplemagpie @mikhailoisbaby ✨

[reidshearts]

loverboy ↶*ೃ

pairing, TASM peter parker au x fem!reader

If you went back four years you would have never believed you'd be dating your childhood best friend. I mean of course you had a giant crush Peter but you were too scared of the rejection you somehow were convinced was going to be the outcome.

Yet here you are years later curled up beneath the sheets of his bed pulling the covers higher to try and gain some warmth from the cold winter air blowing outside the closed windows. Your eyes moved around the room to find a way that would distract yourself from the coldness and decided to focus them on your boyfriend who lazed in his desk chair, back hunched over the table attempting to sew up the cuts in his spiderman suit from his last outing.

"Fuck", the boy cursed as he pricked himself with the sewing needle again, lifting his thumb to his lips.

"Pete, i love you but please come to bed and you seriously can't sew for shit" you tried to convince him as you lifted yourself up to lean your back on the headboard of his bed. This was the hundredth time the boy (or ‘man’ as tried to convince you many times before ) had repeated the small action and cursed somehow creating a new profanity each time while wiping his hands on his tank top. And despite finding his toned arms attractive, you knew you had to get up early the next morning.

He childishly stuck his tongue out at you for the comment but reluctantly left the suit and sewing kit on his desk, "fine, but promise me you'll help me with it tomorrow?" Peter replied, and you nodded your head whilst admiring him with a loving look.

"Anything for you lover boy", was all you could say before the words got stuck in your throat as Peter stretched his arms above his head from being sat down for too long and a blush arose on your cheeks as his tank top slid up so his toned torso was on display. You swiftly looked away and focused on your hands that rested in your lap twisting around the silver band with a spider imprinted into the metal, a birthday present from Peter last year.

The spider-boy caught your glances and smiled to himself and shook his head at your innocent blushing. Briefly sticking his head out the door to shout out a goodnight to his aunt May who was awake watching her favourite show downstairs in the lounge, and he then switched off his desk light to join you under the covers.

You both laid down and got into your comfortable positions: your legs tangled together with your head on his chest while his arms were wrapped around your waist lifting you to lay on him. This was the only way either of you could fall asleep and Peter often climbed through your window late at night hoping you'd let him in and help him get to sleep.

"Goodnight m'love", he mumbled to you while placing two kisses upon your forehead and cheek.

"Night petey", you whispered as you both drifted to sleep wishing each other peaceful dreams.

[freakattack]

How do you think King Boo, Petey Piranha, and King Bob-omb (Bowser's top lieutenants who aren't nepo babies) view each other? I wonder what King Boo, ruler of the dead, thinks about King Bob-omb's repeated explosive deaths that unexplainably revert themselves.

"Bowser's top lieutenants that aren't nepo babies" should be on their resume I think. Anyway, if you'll humor my blatant disregard of the sacred texts of Mario Kart Tour, I'm going to treat the king boos as separate entities, so when I say King Boo here I mean Silly King Boo (the one from super mario 64 ds and mario super sluggers, who works under bowser) as opposed to the separate entity Legally-Recognized King Boo (the one from luigi's mansion, who's like, an independent contractor).

First of all, we know that Petey Piranha and King Boo are tight because ever since they kicked ass in double dash they've had good chemistry in baseball games, which are the #1 indicator of relationship status. However, I do think Petey is a little more gung-ho about the whole arrangement than King Boo. I think Boo would definitely have Petey's back when push comes to shove, but he's also got reservations about paint vomit.

You know, since I've reunited with Bobbery last week i've had a lot of thoughts about Bob-omb explosions. Without getting too into it, I think they are very similar to sea cucumbers puking up their guts. So, I don't think Legally-Recognized King Boo would find anything weird about this, but Silly King Boo might view it as kind of a cop-out. Why wasn't there ever a Bob-omb in a baseball game? Missed opportunity. Anyway, he might view it as a cop-out, because where's the commitment, but I think he might secretly be a little concerned about it, because how do they do that. I think King Bob-omb would think King Boo is a complete joke because he has no decorum and is bald.

An interaction between Petey Piranha and King Bob-omb would be really funny because I think they would actually get along really well and king bob-omb would call him a jolly good fellow and whatnot and king boo would have to third wheel their bro night because he sucks and he would be jealous of their inside jokes but not say anything about it because that's gay

[carlsainz]

𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑤𝑒𝑑𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑒 – 𝑞. 𝘩𝑢𝑔𝘩𝑒𝑠

summary: you desperately need a wedding date.

pairing: quinn hughes x reader

note: yup it’s finally here. don’t know when i’ll be posting the second chapter though, but stay tuned!!

warnings: none

word count: 1,5k

lowercase intended.

Act I – The lie

“yeah mom, i’m going to becky’s wedding with a plus one,” you repeated for the thousandth time.

“but who’s the mysterious man?”

“you’ll see him on friday, i promise.”

“it’s really sad you and luke broke up, i wanted to see him so bad,” your mom reminded you of your failed relationship.

“can we please not talk about him?”

“sorry, darling.”

“anyway, i have to go, petey and i were going on a walk with milo.”

“tell him i said hi,” your mom said. “bye darling, have fun!”

“bye mom, love you,” you replied and hung up.

turning to elias, you started laughing like a crazy woman. “elias what the hell was i thinking saying i have a new boyfriend?”

“you were just desperate,” petey shrugged.

“yeah but now i’m supposed to take someone to cali in three days and i have no one.”

“i already said you could take me,” he shrugged.

“ew no, you’re like my brother, i couldn’t pretend you’re my boyfriend. besides, mom knows i wouldn’t date you.”

he stood silent for a few minutes while you thought.

“i have an idea,” elias finally broke the silence with something useful. “you remember quinn?”

“of course i remember him, i’ve spent a whole night making out with him.”

“gross but you could ask him to go with you,” he suggested. “the guy seems whipped.”

“don’t be so dramatic.”

“no i’m being serious, he gets all flushed just at the mentioning of your name.”

“shut up,” you laughed and rushed him, grabbing your dog’s leash.

alone at night, you thought about your situation. you needed someone to take to california with you as soon as possible and, besides petey’s suggestion, there was no one else you could ask. so you texted the last person possible, quinn hughes. the guy you made out while you were both at a team party and, if you were being honest, it was more than good.

hey, you up?

yeah, what happened? was his quick response.

can i ask you a question?

sure

would you go as my plus one to a wedding in california during all star break?

you sent the text and immediately shut your phone down, dreading his response. after a few minutes, there was still nothing from quinn, until your phone started buzzing and you saw his name and a cute picture on the screen. breathing in, you picked up.

“hm hi quinn.”

“hey,” he said and you could sense his nervousness. “would you care to explain the situation?”

sighing, you adjusted yourself on the cushion and started. “okay, a few months ago i was dating a guy named luke, my family loved him and bla bla bla but he cheated on me with my best friend, so of course we broke up. the thing is, my cousin is getting married and i don’t want my family to think i’m a failure, you know?”

“i’m very sorry, he didn’t deserve you,” quinn responded. “but why would your family think you’re a failure?”

“because they’re very traditional and of course for them a woman’s success is directly tied with a good relationship and kids and everything,” you said. “besides, i don’t want people asking me every five minutes why little lukey is not there and what happened.”

“get it,” was all that he said for a while. you two kept just hearing each other’s breathing through the phone while quinn thought.

“so,” he broke the silence. “i would have to pretend i’m your boyfriend?”

“pretty much.”

“all during this all star break?”

“yup.”

he spent a couple minutes in silence. “okay, i’m going with you.”

“really?” you said very loud. “sorry buddy.”

“yeah really, i want to help you,” he said. of course he wanted to help you, but also take the chance of his life with the girl that never left his thoughts since the first time you kissed.

“quinny i owe you my life, i really do,” you happily exclaimed. “i’m going to send you all the information you need, including a guide of my family so you don’t get lost.”

“i’d appreciate that,” he laughed. “well, see you… when?”

“thursday’s afternoon! see you at the airport, quinny, have a good night and thanks for saving my life.”

“it’ll be a pleasure,” he said and, after your goodbyes, he hung up.

after that, you and quinn started texting nonstop whenever you could catch a break from your daily routine and, if you were being honest, you were already having fun. he was a quick learner and you called him in your free times to talk more about your family and things he should know.

it was all a secret but it didn’t stop petey to tease quinn every remaining day asking about you and your family, while quinn just sighed frustrated and felt the heat on his face.

thursday idn’t take long to arrive and you were surprised by quinn at your door when you were getting ready. you honestly didn’t expect that when he asked for your address but it was very cute of him. not sure about the greetings, you just awkwardly hug and laughed and you invited him in.

“make yourself at home, i’m just finishing my makeup,” you told him. “you can turn the tv on and watch something or you can come with me to my room.”

he made a funny face and you noticed the double sense of the phrase.

“oh my god no, not in that way, i uh i just mean,” you stopped and started laughing with him.

“don’t worry, i got it,” he said. “we can study more about your family.”

“perfect! okay so yeah, you can come with me and sorry.”

he only giggled and accompanied you to your room and, while you finished your makeup, he talked about your family so you could judge his knowledge.

the way to the airport was good and it didn’t take long for you to arrive there. the waiting for the flight was bigger but you didn’t even noticed because the company was too good. he kept telling jokes and asking about your relatives and your life and you also got to know him more too and it was very good. he was so different from what other people thought it was funny.

at the flight, you’ve slept during most of it, while quinn read a book about something you couldn’t see. also, he was sweet and let you put your head on his shoulder to sleep better.

already in los angeles, you started feeling very nervous. noticing that, quinn held your hand, bent down and whispered “it’s gonna be okay, we got this.” while squeezing the back of your hand. you sighed, nodded and kept walking and it didn’t take long for you to see your mom and aunt already waiting for you.

their eyes shone seeing quinn and you wanted to sadly laugh because they were more excited to see a guy they’ve never heard of before than you, their relative and daughter.

when you were close enough, your mom clasped her hands together and said “so this is the mysterious boyfriend?”

quinn looked at you and smiled, “yes ma’am.”

“oh please, call me rosie! how’s your name again?”

“quinn, quinn hughes,” he shook her hand with his free one while both your mom and aunt looked at him like he was one of the seven wonders of the ancient world. your aunt barbie was the next and, when quinn called her by name, she almost melted.

you forced a smile before saying “hey, i’m here too, you know”

“hi, my love,” your mom said less enthusiastically and hugged you, your aunt doing the same after her.

after that, you went directly to the car to go to the hotel where everyone was staying and, while quinn kept being the center of attentions, you stayed silent, just thinking.

you knew your mom loved you deeply, but sometimes you couldn’t help but think she liked the idea of you getting married and starting a family more than she liked you and that makes you sad. however, you kept loving her with all your being.

seeing you vaguely staring down, quinn shook your hand. “you ok, babe?”

“yeah, don’t worry,” you answered.

the interaction was quick and your voices were low but of course your mom and aunt heard everything and were smiling from ear to ear.

later, after your things were already in your shared bedroom, it was already time for dinner, when quinn would meet the rest of your family and of course you were scared.

“quinn,” you got his attention. “what if they don’t believe we’re dating for real?”

“they will, don’t worry,” he smiled.

“but they’re gonna ask everything and-“

“don’t worry,” he interrupted you and said again. “i’ve grown up with two brothers that got in trouble all the time, i know how to make people believe me.”

“really?”

he got up and stood in front of you. “really,” he said. “i would never make you look like a fool in front of your family.”

“thanks, quinn, you're the best.”

he smiled down at you and before he could say anything, you heard a knock on your door. “time for dinner, guys,” your cousin said.

[tbgblr2]

The Military Spouse’s Predicament

Author's note:

This story is based on an ask I had from @kikilala14

---

Claire stretched and sighed, her hand resting on top of her bump.   She could finally see progress in the pile of clothes she was unpacking and folding – the list of tasks after moving house seemed to be never ending.

Looking over to the big pile of unopened boxes she let out a despondent groan.  She knew what she was getting into being a military spouse, but moving half way across the country to a whole new area, her husband deploying the day after they arrived for who knows how long… and her children impatient for a bit of normality after yet another major upheaval in their lives was all wearing on her nerves.

Claire married her squaddie husband, Tom, 5 years back and over the course of those 5 years, each of her children has essentially been born in a different city.    She had an older child, Josie, who she had as a result of a teenage fling before she met Tom, who though she was entering her teenage years herself, had proven to be invaluable in helping Claire manage the younger children she shared with her husband, all boys.

James was her eldest boy, 4 years old and needing to be enrolled in the nursery at the military base where the family lived.

David – or Davey as the family called him – was 2 years old and a typical rambunctious toddler.

Peter, or Petey was the youngest – due to turn 1 year old in around about a months time.

Carried within Claire’s womb was her second daughter, a result of an unfortunate accident when Tom was back home, and now, as Claire was approaching the final weeks of her pregnancy, she was well aware that technically her 2 youngest children would be ‘Irish twins’ both born less than a year apart.   Claire and Tom still hadn’t settled on a name for the new addition, and of course, Claire was fretting that time was getting short.  

Both Tom and Claire were preparing for the birth to happen whilst Tom was deployed, meaning he couldn’t be in attendance.   What Claire wasn’t expecting was the oncoming tightening around her belly as she was folding clothes, a panic setting in as she realised that things were starting – after having 4 children previously she knew the tell-tale signs of real labour vs Braxton hicks practice contractions.

“Shit…” she muttered under her breath, looking around the house.   Her life was still in boxes – she had only moved in a week ago.  She hadn’t registered with the base medical personnel – truth be told she didn’t even know where it was at this point.

“Mammy made a swear” came a sing-song voice from behind her.   She hadn’t realised that James had snuck up behind her.   Claire turned around and told him that his mummy was very naughty and she shouldn’t have said that, that he wasn’t to repeat it. 

“I pwomise” he replied.  “Can I have my Legos?”

Claire hefted herself up off the ground, her hand finding her bump and rubbing.   She knew that things were progressing, and she had to consider that with no one to look after the children, she might have to have them here when she gave birth – perhaps sooner than she had planned.   She picked up her phone and dropped a text to Josie, asking her to come home.   She didn’t want to make her panic or anything, so left the reason why off the message.

Claire found the box with the Lego pieces in them, awkwardly placed at the bottom of a pile of other boxes.  

“James darling – the Legos are all the way down at the bottom of the pile, can you play with something else until we get to them whilst we unpack?” she asked.

“No!” James stamped his feet, and folded his arms, the first signs of a tantrum in the process of forming.  “I haven’t been able to play with them for ages now and I was almost finished building something.”  He referred of course to needing to pack them up and box them away for the move.

Claire sighed, feeling another contraction coming on.  She knew she likely had hours to wait until things really picked up, but there was so much to do to get prepared, she was worried she might not get everything done she needed to.

She reluctantly started lifting off boxes from the top of the pile, stretching to pick them up and place them down somewhat neatly elsewhere.

She picked up a second box, and James reached up to her hands, grabbing the box from her, announcing that he’ll help.

“No! don’t!” she snapped, already too late as James yanked the box from her hands, not realising that it was heavy.   The box dropped down with a crash, cups and dinner plates shattering into pieces, thankfully all contained within the box.

James burst out into fits of crying, the loud bang and shouting shocking him, Claire once more swearing out loud at the accident.   She brought her crying son into her with a hug and shushed him, telling him that it was an accident and it wasn’t his fault – all the while mentally berating him for not waiting for her to finish.

The commotion brought Davey into the room – he had been watching TV in a different room.   He broke into a grin, pointing at Claire.

“Mammy oopsie” he announced.   Claire stood up and realised there was a wetness between her legs and a dark stain on her trousers.   Claire turned red with embarrassment.   In all the stretching and lifting she was unsure if she had simply wet herself, the baby within her and her bladder both having had run ins before… or if it was something more dangerous – if her waters had broken.

Claire laughed it off.  “Yes, mammy was naughty and didn’t go to the toilet when she needed to – you need to make sure you do it like I told you to when you need to go if you want to be good!”

“Yes mammy” the two children recited, but soon James’s attention was brought to the box of Lego which he had originally wanted, which was now accessible.   Davey’s attention was also drawn to the box, but Claire was aware that the small parts might be a choking hazard for him, so she picked him up – the heaving up of the child up onto her hip resting against her bump causing another streak of pain – and brought him into the other room where his larger, Duplo blocks were already unpacked and piled in the corner.   She told Davey that he couldn’t play with the little blocks for now until he was older, so he had to promise that he would sit there whilst she went and got changed.   He nodded and promised.  

Claire scurried off into the bedroom and unpacked another change of clothes.  Changing her underwear, she swapped into a pair of absorbent underwear, unsure at the moment if she was having a slow leak or if it was just an accident.  She chose a loose fitting top – though with her bump being so prominent it still hugged at the outermost point, and a pair of yoga pants which would be tight enough to keep the underwear in place – and most importantly, were black in case of another accident.

She huffed out her breath as another contraction struck her – much more pronounced than any that occurred previously, the weight in her hips much more noticeable all of a sudden.   She took a moment to rub at its side, feeling the baby within wriggling and fussing around, certain that the baby’s previously snug living space closing in around it wasn’t exactly the nicest feeling in the world.

A cry sounded from the cot in the side of the room.  Petey had woken from his nap.   She picked up the baby and realised that he needed changing.   Groaning at the pain of another contraction ramping up – had it only been a few minutes? – she put the changing mat out on the bed, laid the baby on top of it, and started undressing him.   Bundling up his dirty nappy, and swapping it for a new one, she got him wrapped up in a new set of clothes.   The contraction caused Claire to pause momentarily, catching her breath.   She knew that things were progressing much faster than she had hoped and time was running out.

Where the hell was Josie? She looked at her phone – no reply to the message.   She sent another message, telling her to get back now, expressing the urgency.   5 minutes and if there was no reply, she would ring.

She carried the baby into the other room to check on the other 2 children, and thankfully both were playing with their toys.

She tried to set down Petey with his walker – one that played all sorts of music and had lights and spinney things which usually kept him entertained for a bit, but he just turned back towards his mother and raised his hands to be picked up.  He was clearly having none of the toys and wanted cuddles.  Claire held him up high – not wanting to sit down and wanted to be on her feet herself, the aches and pains becoming more noticeable as each contraction did its work in softening and opening her cervix.   Peter’s needs soon becoming apparent as he fumbled at Claire’s top wanting her breast for feeding.

A chill shot through Claire.   She knew that breast stimulation would speed up the labour she was desperately trying to slow down right now, but she had no other pre-pumped milk available for her son, so reluctantly she opened her top, pulled down the straps of her nursing bra and Peter latched on as he had done countless times before.

She found her way to a chair in the kitchen and managed to position Peter in such a way that he could rest on top of the bump and still be cradled whilst he sucked.   Claire gritted her teeth as the effect took hold, her the stimulation of her nipple causing the next contraction to start almost immediately.

She heard a buzz in the other room, and realised in her confusion she had walked out of the bedroom and left her phone on the bed.   Baby brain at its finest.   She hoped it was Josie saying that she was coming back home, and thought to herself she would check as soon as she could stand back up again.

Petey seemed to take ages to feed, the one time that Claire was hoping he would get his fill and be done.   Almost 10 minutes had passed before he had finally stopped suckling, and all through that time, Claire was in constant pain.   She resorted to vocalising, releasing her pain as moans and groans from her voice, though she bit down on a chunk of her sleeve to try and muffle the sound and not startle her other children.

Thankfully Peter finally got his fill and rolled off Claire’s lap, climbing down her leg.   He clambered on his hands and knees over to the walker he was originally offered where he occupied himself pressing buttons and making noise.

Claire shoved herself up off the kitchen seat and got up unsteadily onto her feet, immediately noticing the feeling of fullness between her legs was getting worse.   She waddled back to the bedroom, desperate to see the phone, her walk noticeably bow-legged compared to normal.

The message from her daughter was not what she wanted to see.  “You agreed I could be back by 9.  I’m at the youth club trying to make friends after you and dad dragged me away from my other ones… AGAIN”

She immediately rang on the phone.   Josie picked up after only a few rings.

“What!”

“I need you back home.”

“I’m Busy!”

“Please, just come home.”

“No!”

“Josie, if I have to tell you again, I will ground you for a year, get your ass back home!” Claire was screaming at this point, the pain of her contractions getting to her.

Josie obviously noticed something was wrong, but wasn’t sure what – her rebellious teenage hormones kicking in and she practically screamed down the phone herself “Fine! I’ll come back, but you’re being so unfair!”

She hung up the phone abruptly, Claire hoping that she would be good to her word and would head straight home.

Claire’s labour was progressing much faster than she thought, to the point now where her contractions were very noticeable, and she had to grab hold of the wall or some other convenient place and pant through them at this point.   She had to get somewhere set up where she could actually give birth.

She popped her head back in to check on her other children, and all were either playing or watching TV.   She snuck off to the bedroom and put some old bedclothes on the bed that she knew she could dispose of afterwards.    It was slow going, each contraction bringing on stronger and stronger pains as time went on, and walking around the bed to tuck in the sheets took quite a long time in her state.

She lost track of time until there was a bang, the front door slamming back.   Josie shouted out “I’m home, just like you wanted, you’re such an embarrassment, we’d both agreed I could be out… now I’m a joke amongst the group I had found, I can hardly make friends like this.”   She had sounds of tears in her voice.  Josie charged into her bedroom, once again slamming the door behind her, the sound reverberating through the house.  She turned on her music to a very loud volume and seemed to be going off into a tantrum.

Claire couldn’t focus on that right now, almost with tears in her eyes she collapsed onto the bed, muttering to herself that she needs help.   Heaving herself off the bed, she waddled into the other room, and spread a pile of papers all over the dining table.   Scanning through them, pushing them to the side in a frantic manner, she eventually found what she was looking for – useful phone numbers for the base.

Ringing the number, it seemed like the ringing went on forever before someone answered.   Eventually a lady on the other side of the phone did pick up, and asked;

“Medical, how can I help you?”

“Hi… I’m in labour, I need help.   Can you send someone over?”

“2 seconds ma’am” came the voice on the other side of the phone, accompanied by a set of clicking sounds as the lady checked on her computer.  “Sorry ma’am our records show that no one is currently pregnant on site.   Can you please let me know who you are?”

Claire explained the situation, that she had only been on site for a week, and she hadn’t visited the medical centre so far due to having to cope with unpacking whilst her husband deployed.   She thought she had at least another week or so before she was due to give birth.

The lady was sympathetic but sounded worried in her response.

“I’m sorry ma’am but without prior warning, we cannot get the specialised medical personnel available on site.   I will of course get someone out to you, but they need to come from across another site – it may be up to 2 hours.   Can you get to the medical centre so we can monitor you in the meantime?”

Claire sobbed no, as she gritted her teeth and let out a harrowing moan as a contraction took hold of her.   She heard the lady on the call click on her keyboard to send out the dispatch notice.   Claire finally got hold of herself to say that she had 3 small children, and couldn’t just leave them alone in the house, and wasn’t sure if she could make the journey to the medical centre in her current state without any assistance.

The lady on the other end of the call said that she had notification that the emergency midwifery team was on its way, and that she would get another call from an emergency doctor as soon as he was available.

Claire thanked the lady, realising she had done everything she could and hung up the phone.   As soon as she hung up, she was forced to grab tight hold of a bundle of sheets as the biggest pain yet rippled across her abdomen, and she yelled out loudly.

That caused her 3 young sons to come and enquire about what has happening.   The sound of their mother yelling in pain causing them concern.

“Mammy, are you in pain?”  James was the first to speak.

“Yes, darling.  I’m afraid that I’m going to be in pain for quite a while now.   Don’t worry though, I will get through it.  I’m going to bring you your new baby sister.”

“New Baby!” the three of them chanted, the varying degrees of clarity in their speech.  “Will the delivery man bring her in his big truck?” asked James.

 “No silly…” Claire added, biting back pain to try and keep as calm as possible in front of the children, “When a mammy has a baby, she needs to push it out of her.   Your baby sister is inside by belly, much like you all were before you were born.”

This impromptu sex education speech wasn’t exactly what Claire needed right now, she was counting on Josie to look after the other kids whilst she got herself off to the medical centre – but things had taken a bit of a turn through the day.   Josie had looked after the other 2 along with Tom when she had given birth to Peter earlier in the year, so whilst she was only really learning about the birds and the bees at school, she was well versed in how babies came into existence.

“How do you get the baby out of your big belly?” asked David.  At the ever-inquisitive age.

“It comes out from between my legs” Claire answered honestly, thinking the stalk thing wasn’t worth trying at this point.  

“You poopie out the baby?”

“No…” she winced as another contraction came about.  “Mammies have a special hole that the babies come out of.  You three don’t have one, but Josie does.”

“Is Josie going to have a baby as well?”

“No… she could in the future… but… not… yet…” She huffed and puffed out the last few words, scrunching her eyes shut as the pain overtook her.   The outside noises vanished as her body forced her to focus inwards at the pain, she was completely unaware at what the kids were saying.   She finally recovered enough to function, realising that James had said something but she didn’t reply.

“Sorry darling, what did you say?”

“Can I see the hole?”

“Perhaps later.   It will be very messy when the baby comes out, so I don’t want to scare you all.   Can you please leave mammy to rest for a few minutes please, I have a headache?”

“Awww!” came the murmur from the three as they trudged off back to whatever activities they were doing, Claire sighing in relief – this was short lived though as another contraction came on.   She laboured for another 30 minutes more, the sound of loud music coming from Josie’s room the prevailing sound in the house.   Claire felt unable to move, she began to panic thinking the heavy weight in her hips would prevent her getting up from the bed, but she had to at least get to the room and knock, try to get her attention enough to explain what had happened.

Claire lifted herself up off the bed, and walking one step at a time, grabbing handholds at each opportunity, she practically pulled herself along to get to Josie’s room.  She knocked at the door – no answer.   She pushed the door to find that Josie had locked it from her side.   She banged hard on the door… again, nothing.   Unsure if Josie was either ignoring her, or couldn’t hear her for whatever reason, Claire had to focus on the impending birth without her.

Claire managed between dragging herself and squat-walking to get to the kitchen area, where she sank down into a kitchen seat.   She cursed out loud as she heard the faint sound of her phones ringtone from her bedroom, completely forgetting that she had left it in her panic to reach Josie.  She knew she couldn’t reach it in time, so decided to leave it – hoping it was the doctor, and quietly hoping that if she didn’t answer, it may force him to come to her rather than just speak on the other end of the phone and leave her with her anguish with no assistance.

James appeared by her side, either not aware of Claire’s struggles, or having forgot what she told him previously, his big eyes looking up at her.

“Mammy… we’re hungry, can you make us some food?”

“Yes darling, just give me a few minutes to get my breath back… remember, mammy is in a lot of pain right now”

“No… all 3 of us are hungry…” he stamped his feet and crossed his arms again, much like he had done earlier in the day when he didn’t get his own way with the legos.

“OK… OK… you go and play and mammy will make you something, deal?”

That seemed to appease James who trotted off.

Claire hefted herself up, most of the effort in her arms pushing her up using the table as a support, and she waddled over to the fridge freezer.

She didn’t spend too long choosing, just picking some potato shapes out of the freezer and emptying the bag into the air fryer, setting the temperature and timer to well known values as she had did the meal several times before.   She was aware it wasn’t the most nutritious thing she could offer, but it meant she wasn’t spending time cutting and preparing food, it wasn’t something she felt she could do in her current condition.

As the timer slowly ticked down on the air fryer, she slipped a hand down between her legs, trying to get a sense of what was happening down there.  She got a shock when she felt a liquid, spongy mass between her legs.   It answered her earlier question if her waters had broken… but now it meant that things were reaching the point of no return much quicker than she had thought.  Her peaking pains earlier had been her going through transition, and she was now presumably ready to push.

As if her brain and body had caught up with what her hands had just felt, all of a sudden, she felt the need to push.  She breathed through it and tried her hardest to not act on the sensation, but she knew it was a losing battle.   She still estimated that she would have at least an hour before the medical team arrive, and she knew within herself that this wasn’t going to wait that long.

She crossed her legs as she stood at the kitchen counter, focusing on watching the time slowly tick down on the air fryer.   She entered into an almost meditative like trance as she breathed slowly in and out, each time the need to push came along as the contraction ramped up, she blew out her breath, but she knew that each contraction was bringing the baby out further and further, and no amount of her delaying it would stop that inevitability.

Finally, 5 contractions later, who knows how many breaths, and at a point where time had lost all meaning, she heard the ding of the air fryer announcing the kids food was done.   She plated them up and called the kids into the kitchen where she handed the plates off to them.   She mashed the potato shapes up for Peter, but had a slight concern that he might struggle with it, as she was still weaning him onto solid food… but the impending struggle between her legs was a more pressing matter.   Why the hell wasn’t Josie helping?

As the kids came bounding into the room, she handed off the plates to each of them as they walked back to their own tables.  Except for Peter, who looked at his mother expectantly.

“Milk?” he asked,

“No baby, not right now… you eat the big boys food with your brothers?”

“No!” he insisted.   He made grabbing motions towards Claire’s torso.

A contraction caused Claire to sink to her knees as she pushed involuntarily.   A sudden wetness making her realise that this time, her waters had broken.   As the other 2 children we occupied with their food, she took the opportunity to take off her top and bra, leaving her yoga pants in place, knowing she would need to get them off soon.

Peter recognised his target, and approached Claire, who held on to him as he began suckling on her breast.

Again as before, the contraction surged through her, the stimulation helping move things along, and she was forced to reach up on her haunches, much to Peters annoyance as he was forced off the breast.   It gave Claire a chance to push the yoga pants down to her knees, and then in a few struggling movements get them down, leg by leg, around her ankles.  As she wiggled from side to side she shrieked as a leg dropped out from her.   Her baby was breach.

Knowing the birth had become much more complex – she had never had a breach birth before – she lost her composure, sobbing and yelling uncontrollably, pushing with her body as she went.   She had positioned herself on all fours with her hips pointing down to give some opening to her pelvis.   Peter, not knowing better, had started suckling once again on her hanging breasts, which was causing the contractions to surge through her, to the point where the baby’s legs and torso were hanging between Claire’s legs in a matter of moments.

The commotion finally brought Josie out of the room with a ‘what the hell is going on out here” shout only to stop suddenly at the scene.    She suddenly realised why her mother had called her back home, and guilt ridden, she charged towards her and held her close.

“What can I do?” Josie asked.  

“Pull off these things trapping my feet, I need to spread wide.” Answered Claire.

Josie did as she was asked, Claire sighing as she was able to finally move her ankles apart.

“Do you remember what it was like when Petey was born?” Claire enquired to Josie.   Josie in turn nodded.  “Well this is different.  Baby is coming feet first, so I still need to push out the head.   Help me up, and support the baby so I can get into a squat?”

Josie did as she was told, taking a hold of Peter and moving him out of the way.   The other 2 had come over and were staring at the scene, completely focused on the action happening in front of them, half eaten plates of food discarded over on the table.

Josie got on her hands and knees in front of Claire, who in turn lifted one knee up, and heaved herself up using Josie’s back to press on, Josie reaching between Claire’s legs to support the babys torso hanging there.

The same happened with Claire’s second leg until she was in a squat, with Josie laying on the floor between Claire’s legs, holding onto the baby, Claire using Josie’s body to support her weight to prevent her toppling over.

Claire gave a big push as she felt her vagina opening wider and wider, the width of the head stretching her out – but the pull of gravity of the body making it happen faster than she would have hoped.   She couldn’t stop and she just went with her body.

James giggled, unsure what to do with the situation, dancing almost in a sing-song voice, “I can see mammys hole, its so hairy.   Mammy doesn’t have a pee pee.”

Claire was focused purely on pushing, and didn’t hear James.   She yelled out, the ring of fire in full force as her lips stretched to their widest point.   She didn’t care what noise she was making, she just wanted the baby out.   Her hands had grasped large handfuls of Josie’s clothes as she pulled on her top to give some sort of leverage to her pushing.

Josie gave encouragement, telling Claire she was doing well, and the baby was coming, but again, her focus was entirely on pushing.   She yelled out again and again. 

Suddenly Claire shrieked, her skin stretched as far as it would go, and the baby flew out of her and into Josie’s hands.   There was an almost eerie silence, each of the children were stunned at what had just happened, the only sound in the room was Claire’s ragged breathing.   Then the baby cried, causing Claire to sink to her bottom, her own tears coming unbidden.

The baby was still attached by its umbilical cord but held in Josie’s hands as she asked “What do I do?”

Claire motioned for her to hand the baby to her, where she gave a quick check over and made sure everything was OK.   She was shivering with the adrenaline rush as she got the rest of the kids to crowd around and meet their baby sister.

Josie fetched a bed sheet and wrapped up mother and baby, Claire grimacing as she passed the placenta, but aware that this would be very much difficult for the children to deal with so she didn’t dare look under the blanket.   As she was beginning to wonder how long it would take the medical team to arrive, there was a knock at the door and they entered with their security keys.

Seeing the scene in front of them, they soon realised they were too late, and began to assess for post partum activities.   Thankfully everything checked out and the family were moved to the medical centre for a more thorough examination.

2 days later as the chaos of having a new baby calmed down, Claire’s phone rang, it was Tom who had managed to get the message through that he needed to ring home.

“Hi Tom.  You’re a Daddy again, we need to think of that name a whole lot faster now.” As he heard the giggling cries of a new born on the other end of the line.

[gardenerian]

tagged by darlings @deedala and @darlingian for this delightful weekly tag game ✨ let's get introspective on a thursday morn'

Name: mel

Location: nyc bb

Astrological Sign: aquarius ♒

What's a TV show or movie you plan to re-watch this year? it's only a matter of time before the bbc pride and prejudice miniseries shows back up on my screen tbh and i am always down for a downton abbey rewatch! also @lizisodd has inspired a probable OC rewatch soon

Whats a book or fic you will probably re-read this year? brideshead revisited is basically a quarterly reread at this point. i also want to reread some of my nonfiction faves and reinvest in my history reading.

What is a song you will likely continue to play on repeat? baby queen's new album and also petey's new album! continuous since like. november, and not an end in sight 🫡

What's a tasty treat you look forward to eating more of this year? any treat will do at this point. i am pretty sure i would commit crimes for a donut right now 🍩✨

What's a time sink that you will continue to sink time into this year? i would like to revisit my time sinks, actually. tumblr, writing, maybe giffing again? i'd like to branch out a bit and try some new things, maybe gif other movies/shows as well and annoy you all further 😇 i feel like it's time to at least try to recommit to the things that make me happy.

Did you pick up any habits in 2023 that you plan to continue? i resumed my long meandering walks this year and i definitely want to keep that up. i love just poking around my neighborhood and saying hi to all the dogs. literally every other habit can stay in 2023 tho tbh

What's your toxic trait? isolating myself so no one thinks i am Bad and Stupid ayyyy

What is a coping mechanism you will continue to indulge in this year? uh. well. hopefully none of the ones i have been practicing lately. we're about to make some serious moves on that. i've been trying to talk more, though, so let's go with that?

Tell me something you like about how you look! oh no. ummm. i had my hair and makeup trial for my wedding last week and i actually quite liked how it turned out. so i guess i like airbrushing lmao i have also been told i have nice shoulders alskdfj

Give me at least three adjectives describing things you like about yourself. hmmm. i am kind and i am sweet, i think. are those the same thing? i am struggling to think of a third thing that isn't also a toxic trait lmao UMM. i have been funny? sometimes i am funny?

whew! getting real here at 11:03 AM! i am not sure who has been tagged or completed this already - but it's been ages since i have gone all in on a tag game so please accept this wave hello and a kiss blown right to your foreheads: @gallawitchxx @heymrspatel @howlinchickhowl @whatthebodygraspsnot @metalheadmickey @whatwouldmickeydo @heymacy @crossmydna @palepinkgoat @rereadanon @sickness-health-all-that-shit @too-schoolforcool @xninetiestrendx @mmmichyyy @thisdivorce @energievie and anyone else that wants to do a lil reflectin and lookin ahead 🥰 ily

[wibble-wobbegong]

Who is Peter Owens?

Okay so! Officially decided to separate Peter from the full saint post (in progress), though the theories merge together a little. If you’ve been keeping up with it, you probably already know a fair amount of this stuff!! This is just a deeper dive.

In short, Peter Owens is a theoretical character stemmed from wanting to understand the purpose behind ‘Peter’ being a name that’s repeated several times throughout S4. This will serve as both a theory and analysis, discussing why I think Peter exists and then analyzing his impact on the narrative!! I’m gonna use this post to discuss the 5 Peters, Peter’s role in the story, and his connections to Mike as his antithesis.

The 5 Peters

The kickstarter of this theory is the fact that Peter is a name repeated four times throughout the show. The repetition of names is something that never happens unless some important connection is meant to be made. For example, Billy and Will are both named William or how there are two other characters named Henry in earlier seasons. Repetitive names are a sign to pay attention!! For a name to be repeated four times in the same season with absolutely no allusion to who this could actually be?? That’s even more aggressive than the repetition of Henry’s name from earlier seasons. There is something very important about this Peter character and he could not be hinted at in previous seasons, but we NEED to be paying attention to him now.

Who are the four Peters mentioned by name in-show?

1. Lab Peter

2. Peter, Owens’ Son

3. Petey McHew

4. Peter Bingham

I did, however, say that there are five Peters! There is another Peter tied to the show by name, but he isn’t mentioned in the show itself. His name is;

5. Peter Ballard

The first step is to figure out what the connecting factor is between all these different characters! They’re all in very different settings with very different roles. Seemingly. Let’s get the facts down for each of these characters.

Lab Peter | 4x01, 6:19

The Peter in the lab isn’t given a last name, so we only know him as Peter. Brenner only refers to him as Peter. We never actually see who exactly it is that he’s talking to, we only know that a Peter is present in the lab at the time of Henry’s massacre. I could only find one potential subject to be Lab Peter, because of his lack of a last name compared to the other ones.

The man on the right is the only one of the military men whose last name isn’t visible. Here we have Miller in the middle, the man on the left has a last name too short to be Ballard.

My eyes aren’t the best, but I’m pretty sure these are Blackmen and Thatcher.

It’s possible that the man without a last name is meant to be Peter, but it seems unlikely because Brenner calls for two people, Peter and Alan. Our Peter traveled in a group of two, and these three traveled as a trio. There’s a chance this is Peter, but it doesn’t line up with information we’re given from the other Peters.

The two facts about Lab Peter; was at the lab at the time of the massacre and he was with someone named Alan.

Peter, Owens’ Son | 4x03, 3:11

When the government raids Owens’ house, they shuffle through old boxes and they take things, including a non-descript metal box and someone named Peter’s box of school projects. He’s most likely Owens’ son, considering he kept the school projects in his house and then being school projects indicate him having been younger with Owens and living with him long enough to gather a box full of projects. The fact that his wife is aware and she’s the one upset about the projects means she was attached to him as well, but she isn’t involved with anything in the lab as far as we know.

^ the projects

The facts of this Peter? Owens’ wife attached enough to him to suggest he wasn’t just a lab kid, the projects indicate that he was involved with the Owens for a length of time, and he’s most likely their son.

Petey McHew | 4x04, 22:47

“But can I tell you a story? 1978, I was at summer camp. And my counselor Drew told me and everyone in Cabin C the true story of the Victor Creel massacre. And little Petey McHew… you know Petey, right, Ruth? Yeah. Little Petey McHew started sobbing right there on the spot. Full on hyperventilating.”

And here we have the story of Petey McHew! The most prominent thing about McHew is his fear of Victor and the fact that he was at summer camp. We also know that ‘Ruth’ and ‘Rose’ were familiar with Petey. Those names are relevant because they’re also repetitive in the story.

Ruth, Nevada is the neighborhood which Owens lives and where NINA lies.

Rose is something relevant to the Creel home as well as a connection to Owens.

The pillow is only visible when Owens stands during his argument with Sullivan (the military guy), hence the connection.

Peter Bingham | 13:37

The boy that looks like Will? That’s Peter Bingham. He’s the Peter that we know the least about. He’s using salt, wearing orange and blue, and he has the same haircut as Will in S4.

In the background, on the pinboard, there’s another summer camp reference! The flyer for Camp Know-where, the summer camp Dustin and Suzie went to, is pinned. It’s the version for 1986, but you can see the computer logo in the middle of the top of the flyer! On the official site, they describe every day as being an adventure, which lines up with the phrase “Adventure is Calling!” plastered on the flyer.

Peter Ballard

This is the tweet where they denounced the connection between Peter Ballard and Henry Creel. Of course, you should always take what the Stranger Writers say with a grain of salt, but the fact that they also addressed the difference between Enzo and Dmitri in the same tweet, which actually is true, does make me more inclined to believe them. They’re drawing a connection, and while one could be real and one could be fake, parallels are often used to reveal the truth.

Just like how Enzo was a fake name, an entirely different name for an entirely different thing. Enzo has been used before by Hopper, referring to the waiter as Enzo in S3 when he gets stood up by Joyce. Enzo is not the name of a character. Peter Ballard, in the same way isn’t the name of a character. It is, however, relevant to the story somehow.

The biggest thing about Ballard is that his only connection is to Henry. There’s nothing else about him, simply a name meant to hide the connection between Vecna, 001, and Henry. They could’ve chosen any name, but they chose Peter.

Peter’s Role in the Story

So we have all this information, but how does it come together? Who exactly is Peter, and what purpose does he serve in the narrative?

There are 3 major connections within the 5 Peters; Henry Creel, Sam Owens, and summer camps. Diving into those connections helps us build the story of Peter Owens (though i’m sure his name already gives you a bit of a hint).

Connecting the Dots

How does Henry play into the different stories of a few of the different Peters?

Lab Peter - The Peter mentioned is referenced right before Henry’s massacre, as well as being a worker for the lab. The lab was sort of built for Henry; to study him and his abilities, to control him, to recreate him. Anyone involved in the lab somehow has a direct tie to Henry Creel. In the lab, we don’t even have confirmation who Peter actually is, so it is a popular theory that Henry is called Peter in the lab!

Petey McHew - This is one of the more direct connections because of the mention of Victor Creel, specifically the story of Victor supposedly murdering people. The person actually behind those murders is Henry. Victor is also Henry’s father.

Peter Ballard - Quite honestly the most blatant tie to Henry, considering it was a cover name for his character. Peter Ballard has no other connections to any other character.

Now, this seems to be pointing in the direction of Peter being another version of Henry; someone to add on top of the ever growing list of characters that are secretly Henry. It heavily points to 001 actually being referred to as Peter in the lab, even.

The problem with that, however, is that it doesn’t explain why Peter is so heavily connected to Owens and not Brenner. We’ve never even seen Owens and Henry interact and Owens was strangely absent in the flashbacks to the lab.

I considered that Henry had been living as Peter and Owens’ son at some point, but that doesn’t make sense when paired with Brenner’s obsession with him and his need to control him. Brenner and Owens have a strained relationship, they barely trust each other in S4. If Brenner was going to leave Henry in someone’s hands, it wouldn’t have been Owens.

Alongside that, there are also things in these stories that directly connect to Henry that don’t align with what we know about Henry. Peter is scared of Victor — scared of the damage he can do. Henry states that he views his father as naive and pathetic, he never saw his father as someone to fear. Victor wasn’t a good father by any means, but he did love Henry. He never directly caused him harm and tried to protect him (though his thinking is flawed). There is zero reason for Henry to be scared of Victor, especially in relation to those murders.

As for Peter Ballard, it makes no sense for Henry to also be Peter when we look at the parallels drawn to Enzo’s false name in that tweet. If it were a statement on its own, it would be deserving of suspicion, but there’s an intentional inclusion of Dmitri. Parallels are something we use all the time to determine the reality of a situation, so that parallel is meant to be used to reveal the truth again.

Henry Creel is not Peter.

So who else could he be? Why does he still have such strong connections to Henry if he isn’t Henry himself?

Now, we turn to Owens’ son. Here’s the thing. Owens has incredibly strong ties to the Creel family for some reason despite not seeming to be involved at all.

When Owens is presented with the photo of Chrissy’s body, he claims not to know anything about it. His reaction says the opposite. When the military leaves, Owens immediately goes to check on NINA information. Later, when his agents have picked up El and they’re in the restaurant, he says, “A war is coming to Hawkins.”

How would he know that? Ever since November 1983, there has never been a body that looked like Chrissy’s. It’s a completely new style of killing. In fact, this is the only one that could’ve feasibly been done by a person. What the general points out doesn’t necessarily eliminate an ordinary person. Yet, somehow, Owens knows that this means a war is coming to Hawkins. The only way he’d know anything about what a body like that means is if he was aware of the true nature of the 1959 Creel murders. He doesn’t go searching for Victor. He was on the inside. He knew about Henry and his abilities. He knows about Henry’s anger, about his motivation and what these kills would lead to.

Arguably, Owens knows even more about Henry than Brenner. When talking to Will in S2 after his episode, he asks a series of typical questions until Will brings up his feeling that the Mind Flayer is evil. Owens’ response?

“What do you think the evil wanted?”

HOW would you make the jump from ��big evil sky shadow this kid is seeing due to trauma’ to it wanting something? It’s never interacted with Will directly. Will has just been seeing it. It doesn’t even chase him till Halloween!! Owens had no reason to ask that question. Yet he did.

Owens questions things someone with no knowledge shouldn’t be questioning. I’m not saying that he knows Henry is behind the Mind Flayer. He’s asking the right questions though.

More so, I bring up the rose thing again. Owens is also tied to the rose of the Creel house.

Owens knows so much about Henry, and yet we know Henry can’t be Peter. It doesn’t make sense. Somehow, Owens has knowledge of the Creels, their history, and Henry’s endeavors without there ever being a direct connection made.

Here appears to be a roadblock. What other character could possibly be Peter? None of our current characters knew about Victor and had those same ties to both Henry and Owens. That’s when an anon suggested to me that Peter may be a character we haven’t met yet.

There’s something about Henry’s character that makes him feel somewhat… incomplete. Or rather, there’s room to expand upon the cause of his and his abusers actions. Henry is heavily queercoded and the same language that’s used to describe Will is used to describe Henry. They parallel each other in so many ways, through trauma and powers, and there are hints towards parallels of queerness, yet they’re never really expanded upon. We never see the blatant comparison for sexuality as we do for their artistic ability or being traumatized. They’re both “sensitive,” but as far as parallels go, that one is the only obvious one (broken seems to be more about trauma than queerness, though it’s applicable to both). Why have all these parallels and hints towards queerness only to stop with their toes on the line?

What I’d like to point out is that the lab seems to function as a sort of allegory for conversion therapy. Henry was sent away to Brenner because he needed to be fixed, because something about him made him different and whatever it was was the thing Virginia hated. She didn’t seem to know about his powers, and Henry appeared to be the idolized American child (white, blond, blue-eyed, able-bodied, skinny). If what she hates is what we can’t see, and Henry is already queercoded, it’s likely she hates him for his queerness and wanted to send him to Brenner so he could “fix it”.

How would Virginia know this about Henry? Sexuality is something that, if not told, has to be discovered. Henry was a young kid, only 12, there isn’t much he could’ve been doing alone that would out him.

Remember how I said Henry and Will’s parallels are a bit incomplete? Another question; do you think Lonnie’s hatred of Will stemmed entirely from the fact that he was a quiet kid who liked art? That Lonnie decided Will was queer based off that alone? It’s possible, but remember that Mike was part of Will’s life when Lonnie was still around. Lonnie may have hated Will for not being stereotypically masculine, may have made some assumptions, but with how affectionate Will and Mike were before S3 it’s safe to assume they’ve always been like that. Two boys being affectionate is a way more reasonable jump of logic (not that lonnie/homophobes are reasonable). Will’s queerness would probably remain under tight wraps if it weren’t for Mike. Hell, Will’s love for Mike is how Jonathan knows he’s gay. Sexuality on its own doesn’t have to be romantic to be true, but Will’s arc with his sexuality is heavily based on his feelings for Mike.

Taking those facts, let’s say something similar happened to Henry. Henry was somehow discovered, prompting the Creels to move and for Virginia to want to send him to Brenner (she also possibly sexually abused him in her own attempts to fix him). Who would Henry have been with at the time? Who would recommend Brenner to Virginia? Who has strong ties to the Creel family?

Peter is Owens’ son. The Creels lived in Ruth, Nevada near Owens. Henry and Peter most likely met at a summer camp, or at least went to one together (possibly another allegory for conversion therapy, but i’m not 100% sure they were sent to the camp for being gay) and grew close. Most likely, they were best friends and a little more, just like Mike and Will had been.

Peter was always scared of Victor, a very religious man who loved his family and wanted to protect them from demons. Victor had a gun he sat outside with at the Creel house, one he planned on using to shoot the demon tormenting his family. Victor is a religious man with a gun who loves his son. Peter is a gay kid, and Victor would most definitely had blamed Peter for “influencing” Henry. Peter had every reason to be scared of Victor.

Owens has a relationship with Brenner and works with him. We don’t know much about Owens’ view on gay people, but considering it was the 1950’s and he’s got a close relationship with Brenner, I wouldn’t be surprised if Owens had worked with him on a conversion therapy project. Of course he’s never been okay with hurting kids, but he’s also always been dedicated to saving them. Owens and Brenner are men of science, and science at the time was flooded with propaganda that stated homosexuality was a curable disease. Owens wanted to help cure these children, hence his grid shirts and role as the web of the spider, but he’d never do so through the extremes Brenner would.

If the Owens and the Creels discovered their children were gay, gay together, Owens could very well have recommended Brenner to Virginia for when they moved away. Brenner ran a location in Hawkins, Indiana, posed as a hospital with electrocution materials at the ready (Terry Ives was shocked till her brain was scrambled). Electro-shock therapy was a very common treatment.

Of course, after Henry’s powers were discovered, Brenner was no longer interested in fixing him but became obsessed with understanding his abilities.

Basically, Peter is Owens’ son and Henry’s childhood lover just like how Will is the son of a homophobic man and has his own childhood lover.

How Peter Influenced Henry

How did Peter actually impact the plot, beyond just being the one Henry got caught with? It does in fact go further beyond, and this is where we bring in one more Peter that I haven’t mentioned yet. He’s never said by name, but he is in the show.

This painting on the left from the Russian church is a painting of Saint Peter. He’s most known for two things; holding the keys to the kingdom of heaven and his written vision of the Second Coming of Christ, called the Apocalypse of Peter.

The Apocalypse of Peter, when you look into the visions listed (punishments for sinners) they tell a very similar story to what we’ve been seeing in S4 and hint at what’s likely to come in S5. Not every prediction will be used, but a lot of them will. These are written in order of the actual listed punishments in the apocalythe, but only some of them have happened; others are predictions for future character events.

“Blasphemers are hanged by the tongue.”

Blasphemy; the act or offense of speaking sacrilegiously about God or sacred things; profane talk:

This is an unfulfilled but predicted event for Mike. This will likely play into effect during his trance in S5, but you never really know with this series.

“Women who adorn themselves for the purpose of adultery are hung by their hair over a bubbling mire.”

Unfulfilled, but not surprising. She’s been emphasized for a reason, we’re just yet to learn why. It seems she may end up partaking in Henry’s punishments, which makes sense given his attitude towards her through Billy.

“Murderers and their allies are tormented by venomous creatures and numberless worms.”

Is now a good time to mention that there’s a pretty good chance Peter died?

“Liars whose lies caused the death of martyrs have their lips cut off, with fire in their body and entrails.”

The victims were all martyrs and Jason’s lies led to their deaths, as if not for the conflict they may have been able to come up with a real solution quicker. It seems like he has fire in his ‘body and entrails’ to me! Get fucked.

“Men who take on the role of women in a sexual way, and lesbians, fall from the precipice of a great cliff repeatedly.”

Isn’t it wild how gay men and women are said to fall from the great cliff repeatedly? How Mike has yet to do this action under Henry’s influence, and yet there are signs of him not only going back to the cliff but doing so during his trance? Where no one can save him?

“Those who do not heed the counsel of their elders are attacked by flesh-devouring birds.”

Kinda what he gets for not listening.

“Women who had premarital sex have their flesh torn to pieces.”

Are you starting to see the pattern between all the people who’re predicted targets? 

“Sorcerers are hung on a wheel of fire.”

So, it seems the Peter may have had an influence on Henry’s future goals considering how many similarities there are between Peter’s Apocalypse and Henry’s plan of action.

I doubt Peter quoted these types of punishments as an exact plan, but it very much so seems like he’d been angry at those who oppressed people like him and Henry, which makes perfect sense if he had a conversion therapist for a father. If Peter had been enduring homophobic rhetoric his whole life, only to find out he was the very type of person his father sought to fix, of course he could learn to hate people like Owens; people who were at the top ranks of society, who got to live their lives how they pleased and control everyone they’d decided was below them.

Peter’s beliefs could’ve been a motive behind Henry’s actions. Obviously, Peter alone wasn’t a motive, but I think he played an important part as to why Henry started killing in Hawkins —why he was even in Hawkins in the first place. Peter spoke of a world where the people who hurt them were finally brought down, a world where they could be saved. Henry could make that happen. Henry understood what Peter was talking about on a deep, deep level. He felt it too. Losing Peter, the one person who showed him kindness, probably played a role in Henry’s chosen path of salvation and revenge, though he’s twisted things to fit into his own moral/ethical code.

Now, what’s really interesting is that Henry and Will are parallels and antitheses. In the same way, I think Peter is meant to be Mike’s antithesis.

Mike’s Antithesis

This last part shouldn’t be too long! Basically, when we look at the narrative, Peter is being built as Mike’s antithesis in a similar way to how Henry is built as Will’s antithesis. Without having Peter as a canonical character, and therefore having no guaranteed understanding of his personality and moral code, this will mostly be based off of everything I’ve talked about this far in the theory.

Where are they similar? Both of them grew up in peaceful, suburban class homes with passive fathers who were pretty openly homophobic. Ted isn’t to the extreme that Owens may have been, but he’s made more than his fair share of snide remarks and there’s a Reagan sign in front of the house. There’s also the way that the boy they’re both in love with had a scary, homophobic dad with a gun.

On a deeper level, they both play very similar roles in the narrative. Henry and Will both fight for a lot of reasons, but just like how Will finds his courage and strength in Mike, Henry may possibly doing the same from the memory of Peter. This is also where they start to diverge a little bit, becoming antitheses to each other.

Where Peter finds sanctuary in hating those above him, Mike finds sanctuary in the people on his level. Peter only looks up at he could’ve had, but Mike doesn’t even bother being jealous of the people above them. He looks left and right and finds the beauty in the people around him. They’re his best friends! Peter and Mike both want to be able to be themselves, but their approaches to that are different. They share their views with the people around them, taking leadership roles (Saint Peter was given the keys to the kingdom of heaven, which serve as leadership and faith encouraging tools over the people) and guiding people to follow their beliefs too. Peter encouraged revenge and an us vs them attitude. Mike encouraged community, always tells his friends how amazing they are and serves as a beacon of hope for the people around him more often than not.

Where Henry is dark and Will is light, Peter is despair and Mike is hope. Where Henry is rejection and Will is acceptance, Peter is hatred and Mike is love.

Mike and Will are a version of Peter and Henry. They’re the ones who end up together. Peter and Henry lacked so much love, it was what drove Henry to become the monster he is. Will has been surrounded by love, it sets him on the path of goodness Henry never had. Where Henry lost his childhood love and was left alone, Will and Mike pulled through. It’s sort of perfect that Peter would be introduced as Henry’s old love interest in the same season Mike and Will finally get together. Showing Peter too early as a parallel to Mike and Henry’s crush may have given too much insight into byler.

Another fun little thing; Mike has a lot of imagery regarding crosses this season for reasons unknown. Saint Peter died via crucification, but he was crucified upside down. Makes me wonder what that could mean for Mike, seeing as how Henry is the “upside down” version of Will, in a sense. Definitely nothing good, but interesting nonetheless.

I think that’s everything! At least, the important stuff. Any other small details I find about Peter will go under ‘#petergate’ and general posting about Peter will just be tagged with his name, ‘#peter owens’. He’s a little fucked up but he’s also just a little guy. You ever met a 12 year old? He’s pretty normal tbh

Thank you for reading!!!

[mommahughes19-23]

OKAY SO I HAVE A SOME IDEAS FOR TEAMS WHICH JUST MAKES ME HAPPY

What I think each team listens to before a game:

i have a feeling all of the ducks are FORCED to listen to hype taylor swift sings before every game because I bet Trevor BEGS to have the aux

Oilers probably listen to drake...enough said

I know a lot of the devils really like country so I'm thinking a mix of Morgan Wallen, Zach Bryan and maybe some luke combs and chris Stapleton

Im thinking for the Canucks....petey would be the only one trusted with the aux. I say that and not quinn because I personally don't feel like much of the team would like country music so quinn and probably Brock are both taken off that list of possibilities....but also I feel like demko would have an amazing playlist

The Rangers would be some butch manly "grr I'm a man" type of songs and then also like...lizzo or Beyonce thrown into the mix (there's a vision here....I'm not sure if it'll make sense to everyone tho)

The bruins give off like....boygenius. DONT COME FOR ME....I just have a feeling they like lesbian pop...like boy genius, girl in red and Chappell roan (swayman would get DOWN to hot to go)

I feel like Crosby would take over pre-game playlists because people wouldn't want to play a song that the goat doesn't like....enough said. As for what they listen to....I'm feeling like 90's-00's hits because it's the penguins and also Crosby. I just have that feeling

I feel like for the sharks they would listen to very cute soft music before a game...like we're getting into teams I don't know very well and I'm just rambling at this point but I have a feeling it's very goofy cute music...maybe we have another taylor team 🤷🏻‍♀️

vgk would listen to ymca in repeat....

I feel like the stars would listen to viral TikTok songs...I don't know where that came from....

I have ran put of brain power, might cone back with more later

why did this make me giggle but it’s also so accurate i can’t. NOT THE YMCA. 😭😭😭😭

[abbatoirablaze]

Surrogate Luna, Chapter 18

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: angst, threats of violence.

“I’m never letting you go again, omega!” he all but purred against her throat as she nuzzled against his chest.  A whimper left her lips as Steve’s teeth grazed over her swollen mating gland, “I love you, Luna…”

“I can’t keep waiting on empty promises, Steve…it-it’s why I took Stevie and ran with Wanda…”

Steve felt the bile in the back of his throat rising up as he thought about it, “I won’t let her win, Cinna.”

“I want another one, Steve!” she sighed, her eyes meeting his as she pulled away from him, “you let her take Stevie…I-“

“Stevie’s safe…I promise…”

“I’m taking her…” she admitted, looking to the babe in her arms as Steve looked between the two of them where his daughter was nestled cozily.

“Momma, momma, look!”

Cinna smiled softly, shaking herself from her thoughts as she looked at the omega pup who was cuddled up to a scowling three-year-old sigma, “Go way, Petey!  Momma, make bubby stop!”

“Saradia, be nice,” Cinna teased, booping the three-year old’s nose.  The cherub-faced little girl huffed, and allowed the brunette boy to hug her for a moment longer before shifting out of his arms and growling at him, “Saradia…”

“But momma!”

“I was being nice,” Peter frowned, “you’re a meanie pup.”

“Am not!” she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest, “don’t want hugs!”

Cinna was unable to stop the giggle that came from her lips as the two pups argued. 

“Peter just wanted to hug you, Saradia…”

“No hugs,” she huffed.  Cinna rubbed her daughter’s cheek, and the young sigma rumbled happily, leaning into her mother’s touch, “momma…stoppp.”

She giggled even more, pulling her daughter into her arms before smothering her with kisses.  The younger of the two pups pretended to be annoyed, but couldn’t stop the happy rumbles from escaping her throat.  Soon the sigma’s pouty attitude was gone, and she was giggling along with her mother. 

“Get in here, Peter!” Cinna giggled, reaching out for the six-year-old.  He smiled, happily attacking his adoptive mother and little sister, bowling the pair over.  The three of them giggled in the field on their little picnic blanket. 

“We have to get her out of here,” Sam said with a sad reply as he looked over his shoulder and back to the omega who was sleeping near the fire, “it’s only a matter of time before Sharon finds her, Steve…you’re still marked.  And she can’t keep doing this…not with a new pup…”

“I can’t let her go, Sam…”

“I thought you and Cinna talked…” he sighed.

“We did…but I-“

“Sharon’s still got her hooks in you,” he said with a shake of his head, “as your beta, it’s my job to protect you and our pack Luna…and your pups.  They’re your legacy.  They’re the pack’s future.  She has Stevie…Sharon can’t get your daughter too!”

“Sam…what did you do?” Sam frowned, not wanting to answer his alpha, “SAM!  What did you do?”

“The right thing.”

Steve nearly jumped out of his skin as he saw Tony and a dozen of his warriors standing at the entrance of the cavern.  Steve shook his head, “H-how did you get here?  How did Sam even-“

“Sarah…she found asylum in a neighboring pack…and she got the word to Pepper and I.”

“I-I can’t let her go, Tony!”

“I’m not asking,” he said with a shake of his head, “Cinna was a goodwill gesture…she’s royalty and she allowed this to happen…allowed herself to be treated as nothing, for the sake of my pack.  I’m not going to let my wife’s sister be killed or worse, remain like this…I’m taking her back to the Stark lands, Steve…”

Steve stood, and a few of his warriors took a step forward, “Y-you can’t take-“

“It’s not a question, Steve,” Tony repeated, “we’re going to take Cinna and Saradia.  They’ll be safe with us.”

“You can’t take one of my pups away from me,” he growled, “you can’t take my mate-“

“Be satisfied in the fact that I don’t start a war over this right here,” Tony growled, rushing up to get in Steve’s face, “my sister-in-law was broken by you, Rogers.  She gave you a pup…and what you do with that first one is on you…I’m not going to go into your lands to start a war over it.  I’m taking Cinna and her other pup though.  They’re not on your lands.  She’s a rogue, as declared by your ‘official mate,’ and alpha, Sharon Carter.”

The growl rose in Steve’s throat once more.

“If he tries to stop me, kill him!” Tony said without concern to his number two, Happy.  With the final command, he walked towards Cinna.  Steve continued to growl but knew better than to attack Tony. 

He knew that while he didn’t agree with the decision, his daughter and Luna would be safe with Tony and his pack. 

But that didn’t stop Sam from holding out his arm, keeping Steve in place, so that when Tony picked up Cinna and handed her off to another wolf, then picked up his pup, Steve didn’t go for him. 

“You’re doing the right thing, by letting this happen, Steve!” Tony promised, “I know that deep down, you just want what’s best for your pup and Cinna…this is it!”

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”

Cinna smiled as Pepper and Morgan surrounded her, and Peter and Saradia giggled even more.

“Did we surprise you momma?” Peter asked giddily. 

“We got you!” Saradia added.

“You two most certainly did!” she smiled as continued to hold her pups, “you got me!”

“The kids wanted to surprise you outside of the packhouse,” Pepper smiled as she set the cake down on the blanket, “Tony was insistent that we be allowed to have a private celebration with just us and the kids before the pack takes part.”

Cinna sighed appreciatively as she looked at Pepper, “I-I know I don’t say it much, Pep…but I’m really appreciative of what you and Tony have done for me…for us.”

“You’re my sister, Cinnamon…and while Tony may not come out and say it, he looks at you like a little sister as well!”

“I know,” she nodded, “he’s shown that much since he brought me home.”

“Which is another reason it’s just us for right now…and why he had me get you out of the packhouse and out into your favorite field.”

Cinna felt a tightness in her chest as she remembered what time of year it was. 

“The summit.”

“It’s our turn to host,” Pepper admitted sadly as she gave her sister a sad look, “I-I have Tony making sure that the other leaders are far away from our quarters…we’re trying to find the best possible way to set this up without offending anyone.”

Cinna bit the inside of her cheek, “will…will Steve be here?”

“Sharon and Steve,” she admitted sadly, “we’re also trying to figure out how to keep the pups out of sight…”

“Would it be too much to ask that we put the put the visitors in the asylum packhouse?” Cinna asked, “I know that it’s been mostly empty for the better part of the year since we haven’t had any refugees, but it might work…”

Pepper nodded thoughtfully, “I-I hadn’t thought of that…but I can bring it up to Tony…because of your history with the Carter/Rogers pack, Tony might be able to get away with it.  Everyone knows about Peter…Sharon demands his return to the pack every year.”

Peter looked up at Cinna nervously, his scent reflecting just how scared he was to be hearing about his birth mother. 

Cinna gave her pup a sad smile and smoothed down his hair.  The young pup ran into his adoptive mother’s arms, and she began to scent him, rubbing her cheek against his own in an act of comfort, “don’t worry, Peter…you’re not going anywhere young pup…”

“Kick butt if they try take bubby!”

Peter smiled at his little sister, “you’d do that for me, Dia?”

“Bubby!” she repeated, the normally gruff little girl reaching out to hug her older, adoptive brother, “no take backsies.”

Pepper couldn’t help but laugh at the small interaction between the pups.  Even after Morgan joined in, and the three pups were happily rumbling with one another, their cheeks rubbing against each other as a sign of them trying to comfort the others. 

“Are you okay, Cinna?”

Cinna shook her head at her older sister, “I-I haven’t seen Steve since-“

She cut herself off, her hand instinctually going to her neck, where the long-since healed mark of her alpha remained on her neck. 

“Tony’s already told Happy that he’s not to leave your side for the entirety of the summit,” she said reassuringly to her sister, “you won’t ever be alone.  You or the pups, Cinna.”

“Thank you, Pepper…”

She nodded, and gave her sister a firm look, before turning her attention to the pups.  With a clap of her hands, she smiled, hoping to change the tone in the air, “right.  Who wants cake?”

Chapter 19

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