#used to be a hole-less weirdo
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drizzit · 5 months ago
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LOOOOKE!!!! MY MONSTER HAS HOLE !!!!!
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gizdathemxel · 11 months ago
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tfw the person u got into an argument with bc they got up in a knot abt u calling ppl bitches “bc it’s a misogynistic slur” has ‘u can’t defeat a bad bitch’ in their bio and says troon even though they are very much not trans!!! cherry on top of the shit cake
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d1s1ntegrated · 5 months ago
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Fugk shigrli LSOEE LOSER SHIGARAKI PLZ PLS SAVE MEEUGHHHH...can yu do..like THIS SOUNDS CRINGE BUT READER ISEKAI AND THEY R OBSESSD W SHIGARAKI,,, like, they get plopped down into his bar, they explain his lore to him, his fanarts, shiparts ALL OF THAT🙏🎀
Love u munch plz dont die
love u too munch!! hope u enjoy <3
i died violently in a car crash and all i got was this weirdo virgin!
shigaraki x isekai!reader
cw: no use of "y/n" (i used "______" instead!), fem reader, loser shigaraki (aka early chapter shiggy), virgin!shigaraki, isekai, tw: implications of death/major trauma, car crash, oral (male rec), loss of virginity, slight musk kink if you squint, kinda canon shiggy? rough sex, unprotected, pathetic virgin moment lol, teasing, missionary, p/v sex, choking implied for a few seconds, desperation, premature ejaculation, sliiiiiight breeding kink? if u squint
not proofread! pls dont eat me im sorry but its 5am i dont have the energy to edit rn!!!!!!!
you don't know how it happened. there was a sharp, hollow static, paired with the feeling of drowning, choking, sputtering. you could hear screaming, you could feel the branches interlocking with your innards, pinning you to the car seat. but...everything was so soft, so light...
until it wasn't.
you figured heaven would be a little less daunting than this. even atheists could dream up a place better than this.
but here you were, plopped onto a worn stool, a long mahogany bartop splayed in front of you. maybe it was a sick joke, maybe this bartop was the tree you lost your life to. maybe it was one big metaphor. either way, the leather was sticking to your legs already, a loose nail prodding at your thigh as you shifted in your seat. there was a strange smell here, a mixture of sweat and blood and something smoky, and you couldn't place whether you liked it or not. you tapped your fingers against the worn wood for a moment before glancing around the sullen room.
it looked so very familiar. worn furniture, brick walls, and a dingy carpet splattered the room like dollhouse furniture. the bar was fully stocked, but no one was tending to it. there were a few rooms down a hall, but nothing you could recognize. across from you, a little tv sat, with a torn poster of something you felt on the tip of your tongue. you forced yourself to move, standing from the seat and rubbing your eyes as you approached the wall. with a shaky hand, you wiped dust from the ripped paper, revealing a heroic-looking man. little holes scattered the image, as if it had been used as a dart board. bold writing splayed beneath his portrait read: "ALL-MIGHT", and like a crashing wave, everything came flooding back. your favorite manga series, my hero academia, had a bar similar as the base for the league of villains. you sucked in a sharp, excited breath as your eyes took in another look of the room. maybe this was heaven.
but...this shit doesn't happen in real life. isekai's were a favorite trope of yours, like re:zero or konosuba, yes, now you remembered- you had loved the idea of another world rather than death or rebirth. maybe it was your version of heaven. you bit your nail at the idea of being able to see the base for yourself. sure, it wasn't at all what you had imagined it to be- it wasn't as enchanting, per se, as you had thought. but it was...all in front of you. as you swallowed your discoveries, a squeal of joy erupted from your core. shit, your core. your body, fuck, was it okay? you lifted your shirt, expecting to see the gory visual of your death still imprinted on your skin...but it was gone. as if it had never happened. shit. this isnt so bad then, right?
but something surely was missing. and no, it wasn't your life. well, technically yes it was, but fuck that, who cares? what you really were missing was them. if this was a true isekai...
the sound of metal clanging sends a freezing shock through your bones. you whip around in time to see a very battered and bloody league stumbling in, kurogiri rushing to the bar to grab supplies. you stay silent as you watch them all individually groaning and pushing each other for a seat, too scared to say a fucking word. sure, your obsession was there, but it was all-too-intimidating when they're right in front of you. your breath is stuck in your chest, until a voice shatters your glass-persona.
"boss? who the FUCK is that?" a raspy voice slices the air and you feel everyone's stares fall onto you.
your eyes widen as shigaraki slumps out of his seat wordlessly and slinks over to you, hand extended. he's much larger than you thought he'd be. his frame towers over you slightly as he approaches, a sinister smile creeping up on his cracked lips.
"good question, spinner" his teeth are bared, and he's inches from you now as you shake. "who the FUCK are you?" he repeats the question, a sickening twist in his voice that shows he's really not in the mood to talk. without hesitation, you slip underneath him and head for the door, but he grabs you before you reach it. he yanks you back with four fingers, his grip deadly on the back of your shirt. in a panic, you blurt out the first thing that comes to mind.
"please! i'm sorry! fuck, i'm your biggest fan i promise! i don't know how the fuck i got here i just died and woke up here pleasedon'tturnmeintoashesi'msorry!" your voice is rushed and trembling, but he releases you onto the ground with a thud. you catch your breath as you stand, wiping the dirt from your legs.
"...the fuck?" dabi's voice rings through the thick silence, and the group breaks into a bellowing laughter. except for shigaraki. he stands over you, a wide, confused expression on his face.
"fan? so you've heard of us?" his smirk reappears as he couches down into your face, and you nod rapidly.
"yes, yes, i know all of you, you're my favorite characters!" you point at all of them, reciting their names. toga's smile consumes her entire face as you do so, and grabs onto twice's arm as she squeals.
"characters? tch, what are we to you?" shigaraki shakes his head as he looks down at you.
your expression falls as you realize they all have no fucking idea what the hell you're talking about. you take a deep breath and begin infodumping about "my hero academia", your favorite manga. everything from deku and his quirk, to all might, to the league itself. shigaraki finally backs up a step and offers you space to stand, and you do so. he nods as you recite the plot, his eyes widening in confusion and anticipation. when you run out of breath, he raises a finger to you, and you go silent.
"she sounds fucking crazy..." twice mutters sing-songy through his teeth. you chuckle nervously as shigaraki glances to the rest of the group, still bleeding and beaten.
"tend to your wounds elsewhere. i want a minute alone with...this thing." he gestures with a curled lip to you and you wave awkwardly. the group sighs and exits to their own spaces, toga examining you head-to-toe before bouncing away, exclaiming: "okay, but i want her when you're done!".
you cant help the anxious fiddling as he guides you to the worn stools again. he throws himself in one next to you, poppy irises still fixated on you with furrowed brow. he scowls at you, but says with a hint of amusement, "tell the truth now". his voice has a twinge of agitation to it, and you smile weakly at him.
"that's the truth, i swear" you start, and he shakes his head. you can feel the annoyance leeching off of him, and you start your next sentence very carefully.
"have you ever heard of an isekai?" you drag the words as if it would prevent your death, and he nods. "okay okay, good. so i think that's what happened. see, i'm not from here, as you can tell...and i died in a car crash, really brutal shit man, like literal sticks in my lower intestines and shit, that sucked balls." you trail off as you describe the fatality and he sighs.
"sorry, i got carried away. but yeah, basically, no need for an introduction on your part, i already know everything about you". you smile gingerly as he raises an eyebrow at you and scratches at his neck.
"mhm. everything, eh?" he leans into you again now and your breath hitches. you can smell him now, and it's unlike anything you could have imagined. the smell of sweat is combined with a faint sugared citrus scent. it's strange, honestly you didn't imagine he'd smell like anything more than a general stink, but he isn't unpleasant in the slightest. he's also all-too-close to your face, and you're able to see every patch of dry skin, scar, and scrape on his delicate pale face. strands of powdery blue hair drape around his face, and he pushes it back with a brutish movement as he takes in the image of you. you fight the urge to reach out and touch him as he speaks again, his breath on your face.
"what else do you know about me then, hmm?"
him being that close to you was overwhelming as fuck, and it takes a minute to reboot your brain and respond.
"well, fuck i don't have my phone" you exclaim as you pat your pockets down.
"need mine?" he slips his out of his hoodie pocket with two fingers and you shake your head shyly. "no thank you" you creak out, and shrug.
"well, basically, you're like, all over social media. and people really love you" you start, and a smirk forms on his face again.
"so, in another world i'm...people like me? in this other world...do i kill all might?" he says excitedly, snaking his long fingers together with a clap.
"well," you start, "sometimes?" you bite your lip, thinking of how to phrase it. "people write stories about you, and draw you, hell, some people even cosplay you..."
"cosplay? like...dress up? like me?" he says shocked, and you respond with a content "mhm!"
"...in your other world, do i win?" he smiles manically and you frown. you know his fate in your world. but maybe, in his, it's different. maybe you can lie to him.
"yes." you recall the recent manga leaks and chapters, and force a smile out. "you win, victoriously. and...you're the best villain!"
he leans back in his seat, a cocky look on his face as he folds his arms. "and society...does it fall?"
"you make it yours, shigaraki" you nod, distracting yourself from the blatant display of his death that replays in your mind.
"excellent" he hisses out. "tell me how i do it".
you shake your head. "i promise i can!" a look of determination overcomes you, your confidence way too high for someone who just got obliterated by a fucking tree branch. "if...if i can join you, i can show you everything from my world and help you" you propose, fighting off the aching in your chest. he glares at you for a moment and purses his lips.
"hmph. i'll consider it" he raises a brow and you respond with a tight, flat grin. he rolls his eyes as you shimmy closer to him. at this point, he hasn't killed you, and fuck it, if you die again, who knows where you'll go.
"did you know that a lot of people want to fuck you?" you blurt out, and he chokes on air.
"WHAT?"
"yeah, and they write about it all the time. and draw it, too. they also think you and dabi are together, sometimes you and spinner, hell i've even seen you and eraserhea-"
"WHAT THE FUCK?" he shouts out, and you laugh. you feel the excitement from before come rushing back, making you slightly delirious next to this definitely unstable and unhealthy villain.
"yeah! in my world, you're like, so hot" you giggle.
"i'm going to need you to shut the fuck up while i process that" he raises a hand and takes a deep breath.
he takes a few seconds, rubbing his temples and sighing. "...in what world would i fuck dabi?"
you laugh, violently, and he grimaces. you cant reply, so you just shrug as your laughter continues to startle him.
"well, a lot of people also think you're," you whisper the next part, "a virgin". he scowls at this and flattens his lips. he doesn't respond, which causes you in your delusional state to scooch closer to him.
"...is that true?" you ask quietly, and he glares at you. you take his silence as a yes, and nod.
"hmm. thought so" you reply with approval, slightly satisfied your favorite headcanon was very much true. he grits his teeth and stands from his seat, stretching a bit before walking away with a huff. you immediately fling yourself off your own seat and follow him.
"you know, that's not a bad thing!" you say behind as he trudges down the hall. he flings open a door and slams it in your face, sending you back a bit. you frown, not realizing how far you've been pushing it. you reach for the doorhandle and somehow, it's not locked. you push the old wood and enter slowly, the smell of dirty laundry and that same citrus smell enveloping your senses. he groans as he meets your gaze and you smile sheepishly.
"hey, sorry, i'm not sure why that of all things bothered you..."
he rolls his eyes and flops onto his bed. the springs creak with exasperation as his weight squishes against the old frame.
"of course an idiot like you wouldn't understand. even in your world i'm still somehow seen as a loser" he grumbles and you bite your cheek. you close and lock the handle behind you, and shuffle over to the bed. you dont sit, but you sway slightly as you watch him. his body is more defined from this angle, you can see the gentle muscles under his tshirt-his hoodie has been flung onto the floor with the rest of the clothes-and his baggy pants fall just low enough to expose his porcelain skin just above the waistband of his boxers. you take him in with a greedy stare as you plan your next response.
"...well, yes, but...we all think it's hot." the words startle him and he sits up slightly.
"we??" his eyes narrow, "you're one of them?"
you cringe and nod slowly. "sorry, shiggy, but if its any consolation" he cuts you off with a snap-
"i should kill you right now and send you back to your other world".
your hands fidget uncomfortably at your sides and you fight the urge to take off sprinting again. seems as though when you died, your proper judgement died with you. you sit slowly on the edge of his worn mattress and raise your hands in defeat.
"i don't think that's how it works. if i die again here, i'll just be sent somewhere else, and then i can't help you". he interjects with a quiet "ughhh", and you shrug. "like i was saying, if its any consolation, everyone who does think you're a virgin just wants to fuck you all the more. so in my world you get like, infinite bitches" you grin, and he frowns again.
"are you also one of those freaks?" he retorts, and you wince.
"hmph. checks out. mystery girl from mystery world shows up and says i, quote, get infinite bitches, and allegedly wants to fuck me" he throws his hands up in defeat. "i don't suppose you actually want that, just the idea of it, hm? i'm sure you get off on your world's portrayal of me. for all i know though, you could be lying, you could be a narc little NPC that works for the heroes, and they sent you to weaken me. i don't think i'll fall for it this time, idiot. get out." he points furiously at the door and you pout, folding your arms.
"fair assumption, but with all due respect, even if i were a spy, i don't think i'd be so stupid as to lock myself in a room with you" you motion to the locked door, and he huffs.
"prove you aren't then." he challenges, and you very quickly oblige. at this rate, you're living a fanfiction fantasy and you're thanking that tree branch more and more. you yank your shirt off and climb into his lap, choking out an exclamation from him. you straddle him and almost immediately feel him harden underneath you, eyes blown wide in shock as you wrap your arms around his frame and plant your lips on his. they're cracked and dry, but you couldn't care less. it feels like death all over again, the swirling static enveloping you as you taste him on you. a sweet twinge of blood and candy and salt coats your tongue as you slip it in past his lips, swallowing him whole. he whines as you tug on his tangled hair, rutting into you from below desperately. his body is already shaking, a silent plea as you grind down into him again, the friction of his rock-hard dick against your already throbbing center causing you to both moan. you cant hide your excitement and desperation as you claw at his back. he pulls away for a moment and shakily points to his hoodie on the floor.
"g-gloves" he chokes out, and you nod. you spring up and reach for the pocket, pulling out two artists gloves and tossing them to him. your hands brush against Father in his pocket and you suck air in through your teeth, completely forgetting about that weird fucking thing. you shake off the strange feeling and turn your attention back to him. he's hastily strapping the gloves on and fiddling with the button on his jeans. you lower yourself down to his crotch, the fabric strained against his length. with a surge of newfound confidence, you bite the button and undo the zip with your teeth, and he gasps at the sudden motion. you silently fist-bump yourself as he shimmies the jeans down his legs, tossing them off the bed. you follow, peeling the fabric off your own body and placing yourself back on top of him. he finally reaches up and squeezes your tits with his gloved hands, groaning at the feeling of them in his hands. his eyes are lit up like stars as he ogles your chest, yanking them out of your bra. you silently chuckle and completely lift the article off of you, and his jaw drops. he looks absolutely blown away, and as he greedily cups your tits and squeezes them, he whimpers underneath you. you feel his cock twitch and you grind slightly against it, and within seconds, he's panting and cumming all over you and himself, crying out a string of vulgarities. you kiss him again as he coats you both in slick, hot beads of cum and he bites your lip in pure craze. you remove yourself from his wet lap and look at him with a soft expression.
"aww, you've made a mess already. your boxers arent even off, shiggy" you whisper out and he balls his fists.
"mmf, fuck you, mystery girl" he mumbles out, and you help him pull his boxers off.
"call me by my name, _________". you plant a chaste kiss to his cheek. as his cock springs free, you audibly gasp.
its much bigger, and much angrier right now, than you typically read about. you take it in your hand and feel it, the soft, delicate skin feeling almost out of place on him. it's surrounded by thick baby blue hair, going up to his navel in a sparse trail. its heavier than you expected, too, as it switches in your palm. the creamy skin of his length is offset by a very sensitive silvery-pink tip, already leaking precum again as you thumb over it, sending pathetic whimpers to escape his lips in a fury. you blink away your greater morals and bring your mouth to it, licking a thick stripe from the base, tasting the slightly salty precum against your lips. he shakes as you slip him into your mouth, stretching your jaw out more then you expected you'd have to.
you begin slowly, keeping a hand twisting around the base as your mouth adjusts to the sheer size of it. slowly, you gain comfort and confidence in your actions, and you let your hand go. you take him further into your mouth with a sharp exhale through your nose, and he grips at your hair. he pushes you down, shuddering, and you bury your nose into the mass of hair, breathing in the aroma of his sweat and warmth. you feel yourself slicken more at this, and you bob your head up and down graciously as he whimpers, your name spilling from his lips a few times between labored breaths. you feel the blood pulsing in his shaft, and you wrap your hand around his balls as they tighten, squeezing them as he shatters into you again, thick ropes streaming into your mouth. his grip tightens on your hair and he shoves you all the way down, gagging you slightly as his cum drips down your throat.
"hnng, f-fuck" he drools as his seed fills your mouth generously, adn you pull off with a sloppy mixture of saliva and cum dripping from your lips. you swallow it feverishly and he shakes, watching as you collapse next to him.
it takes him a moment to speak, and its barely above a whisper when he does.
"_______?" his voice is raspier than before as he says your name, and is thick with desire still. you turn to him, still aching for your own orgasm.
"i'm going to fuck you now" he says, a little louder than before. you look at him with wide eyes and nod, spreading your legs are he peels his tshirt off and centers himself between them. he grips a thigh with his calloused fingers, digging his dirty nails into your skin. you hiss slightly but your back arches at the contact.
"why aren't you afraid of me?" he presses himself against your soaking cunt, leaning in to bite your neck. you gasp and grab his face, bringing him to your lips. waves of desire crash over you as he throbs against you. for a virgin, his stamina is something else.
"because i know that if i die again, i'll at least die happy this time" you admit, and reach a hand down to grab his cock. you center it to your opening, and nod. he presses himself in sharply, without warning, and you shriek out in pain.
"gah, fuck, okay, shigaraki" you put a hand to his chest to slow him, "easy, slow, please". he shakes his head and rams himself back into you, snaking a hand to your throat as he pumps inside of you haphazardly. there's no real rhythm to it yet, and you do your best to adjust to the size of him stretching your tight hole hungrily.
"tomura" he replies through grit teeth, and you moan.
"tomura," you repeat with a desperate sob, "please"
his eyes glaze over and with a newfound glimmer of faith, he grips your hips and begins to slowly rut into you, allowing the both of you to finally adjust. he exhales slowly as he rocks his hips into you, and you grab one of his hands, dragging it to your core.
"try...fuck, tomura, touch me" you plead, and he immediately presses his middle finger to your clit. its hard, almost too forceful, and you pull his hand back. he loses concentration and falls out of rhythm for a moment as you guide his hand around, showing him what feels good. you recall a few stories you had read and get an idea.
"like an analog. thumbstick. fuck. you know what i mean" you stumble out, and he very quickly nods.
"so not like a trigger." he follows, and suddenly, his movements are a lot more fluid. he smirks as he rubs your clit steadily. he begins to thrust back into you shakily, then with harder, longer strokes. he follows your directions as you moan and squirm under him, beads of sweat forming on his forehead and shoulders as he gains momentum, the mattress squeaking rapidly under the both of you.
you feel yourself at your own breaking point, the fire inside of you melting like metal as it fills you, and you sink your nails into his back as you clench even tighter around his merciless cock. he snaps out with a cry and thrusts into you faster, becoming a little unsteady as you soak his length. your body splinters in ecstasy as he drives himself relentlessly into you, orgasm ripping your body like a hurricane. you call his name out like an unholy prayer as you fall from your high, and he throws his head back as his own climax tears through him. you feel it as he rams himself as deep as he can, filling you with sticky cum furiously. his jaw slackens as he huffs and pants, the most angelic sounds emanating from the villain's flustered body.
as you both crash hard, he pulls out slowly with a hiss. his arms turn to jelly as he collapses on top of you, the weight of him crushing the air from you slightly, and you giggle breathlessly. you wrap your arms around his sweaty, shaking frame and kiss the top of his head as he hyperventilates.
he gathers the strength to push himself off of you and rolls onto his back next to you.
"was that real?" he asks, and you chuckle lightly.
"well, as real as i am, i suppose". he shrugs and closes his eyes.
"did you read about this? in your other world?" he asks gingerly, and you turn to him.
"something like this, yeah" you admit, and he nods slowly.
"you can stay, mystery girl, so long as you keep telling me about those things you read. or just show me" he says, and you smile. "oh, and help me kill that all-might fucker."
your eyes flutter shut in pure bliss as his visage interrupts your greater thoughts. if this is what your new life would be like, then perhaps the violent death was worth it.
===============================================
this took me like 3 hours to write tbh, i hope its good! i think im gonna cross-post this to ao3 to get the ball rollin. thank u sm for the ask! it was a pleasure (literally) to write this :)
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wynnyfryd · 1 year ago
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Trailer park Steve AU part 20
part 1 | part 19 | ao3
"Eddie! Hey!" he brightens. Tells himself to take it down a notch; schools his face and voice into something a little less pathetically eager. “What’s up, man?” 
“Not much, dude,” Eddie teases, one dimple popping out. He looks good. Dressed up. Red and black flannel with the top buttons undone; light dusting of chest hair on pale skin, the edge of a tattoo Steve’s never seen. He’s got his black leather jacket and black jeans with no holes and black riding boots on. All he’s missing is a motorcycle helmet tucked under his arm.
“What’s with the, uh…?” Steve gestures to his outfit, because he realizes he’s sort of just been staring at the dip of his throat. Eddie raises an eyebrow. Steve clarifies, “You got a date or something?” 
“Oh, this?” Eddie laughs. “Uh, no. Nope. Can’t say that I do.”
He hops up backward onto the counter, his ass right next to Steve’s elbow, legs dangling over the edge, and he ignores Steve’s protests to get down from there as he leans in to ask in a mischievous hush, “Can you keep a secret?” 
Steve’s breath catches in his throat, twists into a bitter twinge of nerves. He can keep a lot of secrets. Maybe he learned that from his dad.
“Yeah…?” He leans in on his elbows.
Eddie moves in closer still, cups his hand around his mouth and whispers, “I totally forgot to do laundry last week.” 
Oh, my god. “You’re an idiot,” Steve laughs. “That’s your big confession?” 
Eddie’s smile widens. “Yeah. I got distracted with rehearsals. This was the only clean shit I had left.” He kicks one leg out straight to show off his boot. “I’m only wearing these so you can’t tell I don’t have socks on.”
“Gross!” Steve laughs harder and shoves at Eddie, who tumbles theatrically over the edge of the counter, flinging himself to the ground and rolling onto his back so he can fake a couple death spasms and then lie there with his tongue lolling out of his mouth like a fucking weirdo. “You’re so weird.” 
“This night sucked before I showed up, and you know it,” Eddie says from the floor. He opens one eye to wink at Steve, then he gives one final death twitch and drops the act, popping back up to mirror Steve’s pose, elbows propped on the counter between them. 
Steve’s arm hair stands on end. “How was your show, anyway?” 
“Oh, it was greeeat,” Eddie says. “Drunk assholes yelling slurs at me, Gareth barfing in the bushes. Standard Hideout gig.”
"Was someone harassing you?" Steve frowns. He knows the Hideout's a shithole — a ‘dependable dumpster fire where we practice for the gigs that actually pay us,’ as Eddie had put it — but he thought the people there were, like, accepting, or whatever.
Surely Eddie's style isn't any more out there than the rest of the regulars.
"Holster your eyebrows," Eddie sighs, "it was fine. Really.” 
“Holster my— dude, what?”
“Your eyebrows,” he repeats. He reaches out with the tip of his pointer finger and gently prods the space between them. “At ease, gentlemen.”
“So weird,” Steve says again. He rolls his eyes and swats Eddie’s hand away, and Eddie just laughs and says ‘There we go!’ because his antics actually did get Steve to unfurrow his face. Little bastard. “Were you gonna rent something, or…?”
“Hell no, my late fees are fucking ridic—”
Eddie cuts himself off, his eyes darting over Steve’s shoulder.
He goes skittish all of a sudden, starts backing toward the exit, stammering, “Ridiculously non-existent. Is, uh, is what I was gonna say. Obviously. Um. Right.” 
His back hits the front door, the bell jangling overhead, and before Steve gets a chance to ask what the hell his problem is now, Eddie starts rambling at triple speed that “Dustin wanted me to check in on you and now I have checked in on you so okay-gotta-go-bye” and practically sprints out of the store.
Doesn’t even look back to give Steve a parting wave. 
What the fuck?
What the fuck?
“What. the fuck…” Steve jumps a foot in the air at the sound of Robin’s voice. He whips around to look at her; realizes she must have been what spooked Eddie. Her nose and cheeks are bright red from the cold, her eyes bugging out of her head, and her jaw is halfway to the floor as she gapes at him, “...was that?”
part 21
tag list part 1 below cut comment if you want to be added tomorrow
@heartsong18 @hellion-child @hiimlevi @hotluncheddie @jackiemonroe5512 @jaytriesstuff @littlebluejane @lololol-1234 @marklee-blackmore @melonmochi @messrs-weasley @mrsjellymunson @mugloversonly @nburkhardt @nerdyglassescheeseychick @noodle-shenaniganery @notsopersonalcharlie @novelnovella @nuggies4life @pending-dope-username @perseus-notjackson @ppunkpuppyy @questionablequeeries @remosdeerica @runninriot @sadcanadianwinter @shamelesspatrolshepherdcowboy @silver-snaffles @singmeyoursimpsong @slowandsteddie @slutforcoffein @solalasoforth @spookednsaucy @steddieas-shegoes @steddie-island @stevesbipanic @steves-strapcollection @taleah-bonnick @teatimeeverybody @th30ra3k3n @thealwithnoname @thespaceantwhowrites @thestarslittleking @thesuninyaface @trensu @violetsteve @wormdebut @yourmom-isgay @zoeweee @zombiecreatures
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seeingivy · 1 year ago
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befriend your landlord 
roommate eren x f!reader
you and eren reconcile after meeting your eccentric landlord
**find the series masterlist here
content: drinking, certified nut job landlord kenny ackerman, mentions of thanksgiving and fascism, mentions of a little meow meow 
an: I do not subscribe to canon lonely levi he actually just has a very alive mother and a weirdo freak uncle bc I said so. buckle in girlfriends!!! (and boyfriends and all the friends) also this chapter is based on a very real thing that happened to one of my friends in college I just think its funny...also ive evolved from calling this a mini-series cuz I plotted way too much and now cuz we gotta build the trust yk they are VERY MUCH IDIOTS IN LOVE
previous part linked here
“So we can’t drive because…” 
“He likes to drink. Like, an insane amount.” 
“What does that have to do with us?” 
You and Eren were currently swinging your feet on the green bench, the train station bustling in front of you. The two of you were riding into the city to meet with your landlord today. Kenny Ackerman. You were officially being added to the lease. But apparently, it was a bigger ordeal than just signing the papers. 
You’d thought against it originally. Signing a very legal, very binding agreement to live with Eren, to stay with him for the foreseeable future. It didn’t seem like the best idea, given how the two of you were as of late. Awkward, distant, aimless. 
If you had things your way, you would have been moving out, you would have never even been his roommate in the first place. You had even tried apartment hunting again, just to get away from Eren. For good. 
The second you tried, you immediately remembered the reason you had to live with Eren in the first place. The options were hardly to die over. Hole in the wall, bathtub for a bed, your old physics professor.
You were stuck with Eren, whether you liked it or not. And that meant you had to go, convince Kenny Ackerman you were ‘worthy of living in the apartment’ (Eren’s words, not yours), and then sign the lease. 
Eren had been coaching you for a better part of the morning, this conversation being the longest the two of you had talked in the past few weeks. 
Some part of talking to him was becoming easier. The two of you weren’t exactly having the conversations you had before, but it was civil. Nice even. It was the only reason you were able to stomach this entire thing.
“I would never drive you home drunk, Y/N.” 
“I could have driven us home.” 
“Trust me. He can be very convincing.” 
Eren had been coaching you on everything you needed to know about Kenny. Don’t call him Mr. Ackerman, he will hate you. If Kuchel, his sister, is there then make sure that you call her Mrs. Ackerman. Don’t call her Kuchel until she tells you to call her Kuchel. The sooner she says that, the better. Make sure to drink anything he offers you, the pink lemonade smells bad but it’s not too horrible. If his nephew is there, don’t make eye contact unless he makes it with you first. 
He was somehow more nervous introducing you to his landlord (and his landlord’s family??) than introducing you to his own parents. Granted, they kind of put a pin in that entire thing, but he seemed way more at ease then than he did right now. 
You can see the timer on the screen, signaling that the next train would be here in less than a minute. You nudge his shoulder and the two of you jump off the bench, hesitantly linking arms as you push through the crowd in front of you.
The second the doors slide open, everyone pushes forward, very quickly sliding into every available seat on the train. This left you and Eren to share a single pole to hold onto as the train started moving. You secure your knuckles right under his, the two of you standing in silence, less than a foot away from each other. He leans down, his face even closer than it was before and he whispers into your ear. 
“Brace your feet.” 
“I know how to stand on a train, Eren.” 
He doesn’t respond right away and you turn to find him looking down at the ground, avoiding meeting your gaze. You were just kidding. But then again, you did yell at him last week, so how is he supposed to know the difference? 
“Six stops. Then we’ll get off.” 
You nod, bracing your feet against the ground as the train starts moving. The train is stuffy, warm, and way over capacity. You can smell the girl standing directly next to you’s perfume, the prune smell so strong it was making your head spin. But worse than the smell was the heat, the congregation of people making the air congested, your hair sticking to the back of your neck from the sweat. 
The two of you are pressed against each other, standing awkwardly. In silence. You did that a lot lately. This thing between the two of you was…delicate. You’re not sure what it is but the usual comfort, ease that you and Eren had was all but eliminated, left with this quietness. If you made a joke, it was lost to him entirely. If he said something that caught you off guard, you usually avoided responding by leaving the room. You had shouted at him and he made fun of you, so that didn’t leave much room for comfort. 
The train quickly lurches, slowing down all of a sudden. You quickly lose your footing, stumbling in the air as the train stops completely. Before you can fall, Eren secures his hand against your waist, stabilizing you in the air as the train comes to a full stop. You watch a few people get off the train and switch with those getting on, your breath still shaky from losing your balance. 
You feel him lean down, his head directly next to yours as he whispers in your ear, again. His hand is still secured around your waist, holding you steady. Even though the train wasn’t moving. 
“So when I said brace your feet, I basically meant-” 
“Shut up, Eren.” 
“We should get a leash for the ride back. Lock you up real nice so you won’t move.” 
“Perfect! We can use after too, when I have to drag your drunk ass home.” 
The two of you are laughing, readjusting yourself against the pole as the train starts again. His hands are still holding you steady and you can feel your cheeks flushing pink. From the heat. Obviously. 
There’s always moments like this - ones where it feels like nothing’s changed at all. You try not to think too hard about them. They��ve always gotten you in trouble. 
He tightens his grip on your waist every time the train lurches and stops, for all five of the stops. You avoid the pounding in your chest, which only stops when you both hop off the train at the end of the line. 
As you wait for Eren to pay for the return tickets, you spot a tiny black kitten, just at the end of the sidewalk. You immediately run down, nuzzling the tiny little cat as you pet it. As you breathe in the air, you immediately sneeze twice, your eyes watery from the sensation. You immediately hear the sound of a camera clicking, to find Eren standing over you, his phone in hand. 
“What was that for?” 
“Two kitties!”
“Ew.” 
He holds his hand out, pulling you up as the two of you walk down the block to Kenny’s apartment. Your hands are at your side, lightly brushing against Eren’s every time he leans over, making room for the other people on the sidewalk. The sun is setting on top of the buildings, the air slightly chilled. The two of you stop, standing directly on Kenny’s porch. He glances over, giving you one last look. 
“Why are you so nervous, Eren?” 
“He can be really weird. And he’s going to grill you. Just- we have to bear with him to keep the rent the way it is and live together so, just don’t blow it, okay?” 
“I really appreciate your vote of confidence, Eren. Your faith in me is rejuvenating” 
“That’s- shut up, you know that’s not what I meant.” 
The two of you give each other a smile, as Eren turns to the side and knocks on the door. 
“Why didn’t you ring the doorbell?” you whisper. 
“His doorbell is La Cucaracha.” he responds. 
The door swings open and you’re greeted with three faces staring down at you - identical sets of jet black hair and gray eyes glistening in the lamplight of the street. At the sight of you, their faces all visibly droop, as they all welcome you in. 
“He looks too young for you, Levi. And he brought a pretty girl.” 
“Those are the tenants, Mom. Not Erwin.” 
The two of them shuffle down the hall, pushing past into the room. 
“Kenny Ackerman. You must be Eren’s new roommate.” 
“Yes, that’s me. It’s so nice to meet you.” 
You hold your hand out, him nearly jostling your entire body as he shakes your hand. He idles down the hallway to where the other two had gone, leaving you and Eren in the walkway. You whisper to Eren as the two of you hang your coats on the rack. 
“They hate me already.” 
“That’s not true. Kuchel called you pretty.” 
You roll your eyes, the two of you awkwardly shuffling into the living room, where the three of them were sitting across from you. It’s only then that you can get a better look at them and realize that you know one of them. Levi. Your old physics professor. The one who you cried to about not having a roommate that took pity on you and let you sleep in his house. 
“Hi Professor Levi. It’s been a while.” 
“I see you’ve found a roommate. I can’t believe you found a place to live in one week.” 
“I thought you said the two of you had been living together for a few months, Eren.” 
“We have, Kenny.”
“Ah, right. I was just looking around at other apartments for the past week just to see if anything popped up on the market. And they didn’t. So I’m here.” 
Eren ducks his head down, the expression on his face dark. He whispers into your ear as the three of them start chattering, still discussing Erwin. 
“What? You want to move out?” 
“No, no. I was just looking. It must be awkward for you to live with a girl who isn’t your girlfriend, you know?” 
He leans over, his eyes teetering between annoyed and irritated. 
“She’s not my girlfriend. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that.” 
The doorbell rings, throwing you and Eren out of the conversation you were having. You watch the three of them jump up and rush to the door, fixing their hair and their clothes as they make it to the door. You and Eren stand up, peeking your heads down the hallway as you watch the three of them greet Erwin. Your old political science professor. 
First Levi now Erwin too? You can feel your cheeks burning from embarrassment, remembering that you had actually cried to the two of them twice - the first time to Levi when you were jumping houses and he agreed to let you stay with them and a second time when Erwin offered you an extra pillow before you went to sleep. 
“Hello. I’m Erwin Smith.” 
“Eren Yeager. This is my roommate, Y/N.” 
“Ah, Y/N. How are you? You figured out your living situation fast!” 
You don’t miss Eren glaring daggers at you out of the corner of your eye as you give Levi and Erwin an awkward smile, shaking your sweaty palms against their hands.
“Okay kid. You and Kuchel should go fix the dinner with Erwin in the kitchen. I have to talk to these two here.”  
Why are you and Eren here the first time Levi’s family is meeting his long term boyfriend? 
You look over to Eren whose irritation has very quickly been replaced with nervousness. Kenny is staring the two of you down, the two of you squished together on his very tiny couch. 
“So. You go to Shiganshina?” 
You feel your voice tangle in your throat, suddenly intimidated by Kenny staring you down. You can hear Eren’s voice echoing in your head, his angry look seared in your mind, your voice not coming out. He’s going to grill you. Don’t blow it. 
“Yes. She’s an Applied Kinesiology major. She’s very smart.” 
You look over, silently thanking the gods that Eren answered for you. 
“Can you pay rent?” 
“She has been, for the past two months.” 
He nods, leaning over the table as he stares you down. 
“I’ll give you a situation. Respond accordingly.” 
You nod, clenching your hands into little fists against the couch. 
“You just got off of work. You’re really tired but you have to stop by the store to get groceries. You’ve purchased them all. What do you do after?” 
You look over at Eren, giving him a weary stare. What the fuck kind of question is that? Is there even a right answer to this? 
“Well, I would leave the store. And take my cart, if I had one, to my car. I’d probably put my stuff away, return the cart, and then just drive home, put everything in the fridge and the cabinets.” 
He nods, taking in your answer as he leans back in his chair. “Do you like Eren?” 
“What?” 
“As a roommate.” 
“Oh. Right. Yeah, he’s great.” 
“Why did you start rooming with him?” 
You can’t lie. It seems wrong to tell him that your old roommates chose not to room with you for the next year - he was sure to not think you were a good fit if you said that. But if he found out you were lying, it would be even worse. 
“Well you see, she-”
“I asked her, Eren.” 
You feel him move his knee, pressing his against yours as his fingers curl around your hand. You feel him squeeze your hand twice, his green eyes warm as he looks at you. Right. You can do this. 
“I used to live with a few of my friends last year. I didn’t really know, but they had picked other arrangements without telling me, so I was left without a roommate for around a week. Eren was nice enough to offer me the empty spot in his room so I didn’t have to jump around from my friends' places every night.” 
He stares the two of you down. You’re rubbing circles into the back of Eren’s hand, the two of you holding your breaths as you wait for his response. 
“Sucks. Kids are bitches.” 
You both squeeze, trying your best not to smile. 
“Yeah.” 
“If you kids start dating, you can't be loud at night. You’ll piss off the neighbors. You can sign the lease after dinner. You passed.” 
He gets up off the couch, his distinct smoke smell leaving the room with him. You turn to Eren, the two of you smiling at each other as you lift your hands to high five. Eren holds your hand in the air, shaking your hand excitedly. 
“You passed, kitty.” 
“Where are we right now? Do you smell that? How does it smell like smoke and laundry at the same time? And what the fuck kind of question was that? I thought I was going to vomit. ” 
“Weird guy. Nice rent rates, though.”
“And Levi. He’s my physics professor. I literally had a crush on him. And his boyfriend, he was my political science professor too. I even stayed over at their house once. This is about to be super weird.” 
“Why did you stay at their house?” 
“I didn’t have a place to stay! This was before you offered, when I was jumping houses.”
“Were they loud at night?” 
“Ew. Don’t put that thought in my head. I’m going to vomit.” 
“Save it for later.” 
“As if. I can hold my drink. Trust me.” 
 - 
You and Eren are seated directly across from Levi and Erwin at the dinner table, Kuchel and Kenny taking the heads of the tables at the ends. A large part of this feels like you and Eren are intruding on a very special moment, but you ignore that and dig into the food. 
Right. For some reason, Kenny picked Thanksgiving food for the menu. In the middle of September. Like full on turkey dinner, mashed potatoes, cranberry sauce. 
“So, do you like Thanksgiving, Kenny?” 
“I hate fascism, Y/N. No, I do not like Thanksgiving.” 
You look over at Eren, trying your best to contain your laughter, as Kenny goes on, rambling about something you’re not quite sure about. Everything Eren said was slowly starting to fall into place - you really can’t turn down drinks from the guy. He’d already made you try three different drinks he made and you had only been here for an hour. And the pink lemonade was actually disgusting, Eren’s just a liar. 
Kuchel turns to the two of you, flashing you both a big smile.
“Say Eren. You never told us you got a pretty girlfriend.” 
You and Eren both choke on your food, clearing your throats. 
“Ah. I’m not Eren’s girlfriend. We just live together. Friends.” 
“Uh huh. Right. What a shame. You two are so sweet together. Sharing your sweet little smiles, playing footsie under the table.” 
You immediately drag your foot off of Eren’s under the table, embarrassed that she had caught that. Every time Levi rolled his eyes, Eren tapped your foot to get your attention, the two of you trying not to laugh. It’s not your fault that rolling his eyes is basically like blinking to Levi. 
“Ma. Leave them alone, yeah? They’re just kids, they don’t know what they feel.” 
“I have to agree with Lee’ here, Mrs. Ackerman. Surely, they just haven’t reached that stage yet.” 
“You call Levi Lee’, Erwin? That’s so sweet. Oh you two are just perfect and I-” 
The four of you five of you watch Kuchel burst into tears, taking turns pressing kisses to everyone's cheeks at the table. You and Eren included. When she sits down, Eren leans over, whispering in your ear. 
“She’s like Annie on hour five of being drunk.” 
“More like hour one.” 
You both laugh, silently eating your food as you watch them interact with each other again. Some parts of it feel like a reality tv show. Kenny’s is downright ridiculous - he’s been hurling out whatever comes to his mind. He told Eren that he seemed like the type to commit genocide in another life and then told Erwin that he would be a corrupt military man. 
Kuchel is sweet. Almost two sweet. She spent a large majority of the night crying, telling baby stories about Levi when he was a kid. You don’t miss the way Levi’s ears turn red when she confesses that Levi used to be scared of the toilet when he was younger. 
Best of all are Levi and Erwin. You don’t miss the glances between them - the silent communication they had going on at the table. It’s like the rest of you weren’t even here. That’s where you think Eren got the idea, the tapping on the feet. A signal that you were going to talk laugh about it later. 
Eight drinks in and Kenny is blasting music, doing a solo interpretive dance to Etta James. You and Levi are in one corner with Kuchel, Erwin, and Eren in the other. 
“I can’t believe this guy is your uncle. Did you ever do a DNA test?” 
“Hundreds.”
You turn your neck to find Levi, staring across Erwin on the other side of the room. You follow his gaze, watching Kuchel pinch Eren’s cheeks and Erwin laugh at the two of them. 
“What’s your deal?” 
“What do you mean?” 
“With Eren. You like him right?” 
You look down into your cup, the opaque liquid staring back at you. Erwin had made you a fruity drink, to which Kenny responded “everything about this guy is fruity!” 
“Yeah.” 
“He doesn’t like you back?” 
“No.” 
“I didn’t like Erwin at first. He was too much - pretentious, arrogant, irrational at times.” 
“But?” 
“But, he was my best friend. At some point, all the love and admiration I had for him just became something more. Like, yeah, he was my favorite person to be around but then I wanted to be around him all the time. Tell him the good things, the bad things. Share something with him, anything, everything. I…I didn’t hate myself when I was with him.” 
You smile, squeezing Levi’s shoulder in your hands. 
“That’s sweet, Levi. I’m happy for you.” 
He gives you a small smile, turning his neck back to look at them across the hall. 
“Be his friend. Maybe he’ll come around.” 
 - 
Six drinks in and Eren is feeling buzzed. He was trying his best to pace himself, make sure he was sane enough to take you home at the end of the night. He could tell by the glazed look in your eyes that you were getting there, close to being fully plastered. 
He turns his neck, scanning for you around the room. You kept disappearing. But there you were, directly across from him, leaning against the wall from Levi. He meets your eyes and you give him a soft smile, accompanied with a tiny wave. His heart’s pounding. 
“Do you like her, Eren? Oh please say that you do.” 
Kuchel is squeezing his shoulders, her eyes lighting up in excitement. 
“Yeah. Maybe a little bit.” 
“Oh, oh, oh. You have to tell her. Don’t let her get away now!” 
“Ah, I tried. She doesn’t like me.” 
He watches her face droop, Erwin shaking his head in the air. Both of their cheeks are flushed pink, the cups they were holding shaking in their hands. Surely the only people who were at least somewhat sober were you and Eren, which was saying a lot. 
“You know, Eren. I knew Levi was the one the moment I saw him.” 
“Really?” 
“I liked him so much, I wanted him around. In whatever sense that means. Even if he only wanted to be my friend.” 
“He didn’t want to be with you?”
“Oh no, he loathed me. Like full of hatred.” 
“And that didn’t…bother you?” 
“Maybe a little bit, but we became friends after that. And I just wanted him around. Whatever way he would have me. Even just being his friend, getting to see him everyday, that was enough for me.” 
Eren cranes his neck back over, where Kenny has his arms slung around you and Levi. He’s forcing the two of you to sign with him - Levi looking downright murderous while you flash Kenny a polite smile. 
“Just be her friend, Eren. Maybe she’ll come around like Levi did.” 
 - 
You can’t hold your drink. Obviously. But Eren knew that already. He had been watching you for a better part of the last hour, your inhibitions absent. Erwin had made you yet another fruit themed drink, which you were all too happy to down. The second he saw the glass hit your hand, he’d focused all of his best efforts in trying to sober up, calm the thrill running through his blood. 
You had made your way back over to him after some time, the two of you on the couch. You were leaning your head against his shoulder, your breaths heavy and uneven. At the sight of Kenny - who was now singing with Kuchel on the table - you suddenly perk up, your hands pressed against his shoulders as you lean over him. 
“Eren.” 
“Hm, peaches?” 
“I have a plan.” you whisper, your eyes somewhere between delirious and devious. 
“Uh huh. What’s that?” 
“You and I should sign the lease now. Then mail the letters. That way, we can leave and Kenny can’t get mad because we basically did him a favor. We’ll just tell Levi in case he asks.” you whisper, a smile spreading across your face. 
You’re drunk out of your mind. Not that Eren himself isn’t drunk either, he can certainly feel the buzz he was trying to will away living, but he’s not as gone as you. 
“Genius idea.” 
“I know right!” 
He was being sarcastic, but you had already jumped off the couch, to where Levi and Erwin were standing in the corner. He quickly follows, catching up to balance you as you stumble over to where the two of them were standing. 
“So. Levi. Right, hi Levi.” 
He’s mentally debating if he should stop you. You are very plastered and could potentially say something embarrassing. But there’s something so funny, so endearing about the determined little look on your face that he decides against it, letting you go on. 
“You’re a man.” 
He watches the confusion spread across Levi’s already strained face, his eyes flitting between you and Eren. 
“And you, Erwin, are a man too. You two are men.” 
“That’s correct, Y/N. You’re very perceptive.” 
Eren tries his best to conceal his laughter, as you go on, talking to the two of them. You’re definitely worse than Annie. 
“Marriage. It’s a thing, you know? And a man can do it. And a woman can too. And you are a man and he is a man and you can both do that. And we want to come to that. Like go to there.” 
How did you get from talking about the lease to marriage?
“Eren. What is she going on about?” 
“We’re going to sign the lease papers and mail them on our way out so we can leave. We have to be up early tomorrow and she literally cannot drink more. We were going to ask if you could let Kenny know tomorrow and tell him to be easy on us.” 
“You drive here?” 
“No. Train. We’ll be fine to get back, Levi. I got her.” 
He nods. Eren doesn’t miss the look Erwin and Levi give each other as the two of you lock hands, tip-toeing into Kenny’s office. Of course Erwin told him. 
The two of you quickly rush out, laughing as you run down the block before any of them notice. You slow down as you pass the corner, the two of you strolling the rest of the way down the block back to the train station. He can tell you’re winding down by the way you’re leaning against him, skipping steps. 
The train car is empty, this being the last train leaving the station. He settles the two of you into the seats at the front, getting in first. 
“Ren. Can I have the window?” 
He nods, wordlessly changing seats with you. This seat’s better anyways. You look out the window. And he can look at you. 
You lean over, your eyes drooping as you lean over. He’s not sure what it is, maybe Kenny’s rancid tequila is still running through his bloodstream, but he locks his hand with yours, pressing his fingers against the scar in between your knuckles. 
“I…miss you, Y/N. Being your friend.” 
He watches your expression drop, your eyes fluttering fully open. 
“You don’t think we’re friends?” 
“No! I mean, yes. I just didn’t realize you thought we were still friends. After everything that happened, the fight we had I just kind of- I don’t know.” 
You’re quiet for some time and he can see the gears moving in your head. Your eyes are now pinched shut, your forehead scrunched in concentration. Maybe this was the right time to say this. Hopefully, you don’t even remember tomorrow. 
“Are we in second grade, Ren? Do you really not think we’re friends?” 
Of course. The words he said to you, the day you were sick. 
“We are still friends. I just meant, it was different for the past few days. But today, this was…nice. I enjoyed it.” 
You smile in response, the two of you leaning your heads against the back of the seats, the only sound being the whirring of the train behind you. 
“Y/N. You wouldn’t really move out, would you?” 
“I was hoping you forgot about that. It’s my fault. I kind of…get in my head sometimes, I don’t know.”
“About?”  
“I thought you didn’t want me around. So I didn’t want to be around you. I thought you hated me or something.” 
“Y/N. Look at me.” 
His eyes are dark, the same way as when Levi mentioned you were looking for another roommate. 
“I could never hate you.” 
“I know, I just meant-” 
“No. You clearly don’t know.” 
You turn over to find an irritated look plastered on his face, his jaw clenched shut. You press your fingers against his shoulder, squeezing twice to get his attention. He flutters his eyes open, leaning down to look at you. 
“You’re special to me. I don’t understand what I did that made you think I would ever make fun of you or hate you. You...piss me off when you say stuff like-” 
He’s cut off by you placing your hand on his cheek, your eyes peering into his. 
“Sorry, Ren.’ 
“S’okay. I know why you do it. But just remember, I’m not your stupid old roommates or your lame ex-boyfriend or anyone who ever made you feel that way. You and I are-” 
“Friends.” 
Not what he quite had in mind, but he’ll take it.
“Yeah. You can tell me anything.” 
“Okay. You too.” 
He sees you smile, your eyes wafting shut against his shoulders. He can feel the pit in his stomach burning, the exact same way it did every time you did something. When you smiled at him, fixed his hair, got him coffee. God, he still loves you. 
“So Ren. Do you want to hang out after recess?” 
“Shut up. You’re so corny, kitty.” 
“Ew.” 
The next morning, Eren makes you breakfast and you sing in the shower. Progress. 
next part linked here
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seat-safety-switch · 6 months ago
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Race teams go through a lot of parts. Not just through crashing, as you might expect. The reason why is simple: when you want to compete at the highest level, having a part that is even 1% out of spec means that you're operating at a disadvantage. Imagine you were like a long-distance runner, or a good-jumping person at the Olympics. If you had a hole in your shoe, you'd go buy some new shoes. Seems wasteful, but the only thing money can't buy is another race weekend.
What this means in practice is that, if you know where to look for it, you can get a lot of pretty-decent race car parts. Leftover engines, half-broken transmissions, gently-annihilated tires. Race teams are always spitting them out, and they're all gonna go to random weirdos like you. Yes, you'd expect them to be going to other people who work at the race shop, but it turns out that after driving a loud and exciting cutting-edge race car all day for money, you want to drive home in a boring automatic Camry with no modifications whatsoever.
Races are always happening, too, so the parts fountain will never run out. I'm sure there's some guys pulling the positronic thought matrices out of one of those robot racers they ran the other weekend. Probably gonna put them in a slightly less fast race car, one where people don't ask too many questions of a depressed Honda Asimo breaking into tears between heats.
Now, I myself do not have the money to buy even used race car parts. Which is not to say I'm not aware of them: I hang out and pull stuff out of their scrap metal bins all the time. Even a race team's offcuts are nicer than my actual race car, which is why my hood is now made out of four different colours of carbon fibre and a box of wood screws that they forgot to take inside when they tried to fix the fence. They're Robertson screws, of course, because race teams demand the best.
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kiradrabbles · 7 months ago
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Love story - yandere ticci toby x reader chapter 1
cw: stalking, obsessive behaviour, graphic depictions of violence (no shit), and Toby being a total freaky weirdo. Not explicit non-con yet.
No good deed ever goes unpunished. One late night trip to a convenience store you decide to help a man who knocks over some cans. Toby can't get his mind off you, now. And when he finally finds something that helps him get his mind off the raging in his head and the operators grasp on him, he won't let it go.
AKA. Toby is delusional, horny, and totally obsessed with you. Without further adieu... with a horrendous word count of 4000+....
Chapter 1: Meet cute
To say toby had no idea when his infatuation with you started would be a lie, he knew exactly when it started. He knew it down to the hour, the minute, the second. How could he forget the moment he met you after all? It was like a romance, one of those rom-com meet cutes. His own sappy love story with his own perfectly happy ending.
It was a cold night, he couldn't precisely remember the time, sure, but he knew the stars were up in the sky, and that it was the midst of winter as there was snow dusting the ground. Colorado's winters were cold - and as it was cold, Toby got stuck with doing the supply runs. As was apparently "fair". Because of his CIPA he couldn't feel cold (or heat), which meant any time the weather conditions were slightly less-than desirable it was his job to go half-buy half-shoplift the food the mansions residents needed for the next few days. At least, those that didn't eat human flesh.
Not that he really minded. He'd take any chance he could to get out of the mansion for a while, taking Tim's car - an old beaten up Land Rover they had stolen from a victim years ago - and speeding along the highways to the nearest store. Well, not speeding. He was always cautious in cars - he had his reasons.
And it was in one of those convenience stores where he first saw you, memory engraved into his mind forevermore.
You were beautiful that was for sure. Specks of snow sprinkled over your hair and face, light glinting off them as you made your way into the store, still shivering from the cold as you stopped in you tracks, soaking in the sudden warmth. The harsh lighting just seemed to frame you, like a halo of sorts, a spotlight sending his attention screaming to you. He couldn't tear his eyes away. Something about you distracted him, If just for a second, from the chaos in his head. The voices and the constant war of emotions died down, to make room for a new emotion. One he hadn't felt in years.
Love.
Toby knew it was love - what else could it be? His heart was pounding in his chest, he felt giddy with what must be affection as he stared at you. He wasn't used to the feeling, but what he knew was it was better than any temporary high his missions could give him, sharp as an axe and twice the rush.
You must have noticed his staring, because by the time he came to his senses and focused again you had met his gaze, head tilted with a nervous half-smile on your perfect face. He had made you smile. A nervous one, but yet a smile, nonetheless.
A sharp crack sounded as his neck jerked, bringing him screeching back to reality, breaking the eye contact and bringing his gaze down to his poorly bandaged hands. Oh, how he wished he dressed better.
He hadn't even bothered to throw on a bandage on his face to cover his gash, instead opting for a single-use blue face mask Jack had lying around. The hoodie he was donned had thumb holes ripped into the cuffs, and he hoped like hell it wasn't one of the ones with obnoxious blood stains. He couldn’t see any on the front, but he would not put it past him to somehow have some sprayed on his back, he got pretty.. Brutal when in the zone.
The next time he looked back to you, you were bent over a little, looking down at some energy drinks. He allowed his eyes to drift over you, taking in everything. Before he could take out his phone and take a photo - not in a strange way, of course, just to remember the occasion - he ticced. At the most inconvenient time possible, naturally. 'Birdie!' he chirped out, followed by a bird whistle, which sent you looking behind yourself in startled confusion, and Toby's gaze to his hands once again.
He continued skirting around you for the next minute or so, before it happened. He was kneeled down, looking at the drinks you were looking at before, imagining sharing one with you, hands brushing each other’s. Toby could finish it in one gulp, seeing you pout, then cup your face and kiss it into your mouth, watching you squeal and close your eyes, lean into him. Some might argue this was too soon, or strange to imagine, but Toby knew it wasn't. He was in love with you, after all, so it was normal.
He was brought out of those pleasant daydreams by a loud clatter, looking down. He'd knocked some drinks off the shelf.
"Fuh-fuck." he cursed quietly
He reached down to fetch them, but someone got to it first - you got to it first. Your hands were so small as they picked it up, he wanted to cup them in his hands and kiss them, feel your soft skin against his own, callous and scarred.
"Th-thanks" he muttered, looking down at you again as he rose up to his full hight, a few inches taller than you are. "S-sorry about that, I have tour- wow! - Tourette’s. I have Tourette’s."
"It's fine" you gave a little smile, nervously picking at your hands. "Don't worry about it."
The first thing that struck him was your voice. It was.. Perfect. It suited you perfectly. He wanted to play it on loop, set it as his ringtone, his new favourite song.
The second? You didn't judge him for his Tourette’s. Of course, you didn't, you were perfect. You were made for him; you wouldn't judge him for anything like that. You weren't like anybody else. He wanted then more than anything to take you in his arms right there, lift you up and take you back to the mansion, to his room, hide you from the rest of the world, have you all to himself. Instead, he waited behind you at the checkout, taking in the faint smell of you, trying to keep a handle on his ticcing and twitching, at least when you were there.
When it was his turn he barely looked at the cashier, slapping a wad of cash on the table and watching him sort through it, bowing his head a little under tobies harsh gaze, snatching the change as soon as it was handed to him. He couldn't lose you, let you get too far, he had to keep track of you.
He tracked you like he would a victim, trailing behind you in the Land Rover, just far behind enough you wouldn't register it, a few cars back. He followed you to an apartment block, parking across the road, watching as you exited the car, oblivious to the eyes of your future lover trailing you.
Thankfully for him you were on the first floor, obvious from the way light visible in one of the windows turned on a few seconds after you entered the building. He made a mental note of the room you stayed in and pulled out from the car park, making his way back to the mansion. It would be suspicious if he came back too late. He would come back for you, though. He had to.
And that he did. He started with simple things, waiting outside the apartment for you to leave and trailing you, learning your routines, your most visited locations, anything about you he could pick up. You liked to read, adorable. He would love to read with you, having your tiny form on his lap, book in hand, resting against him. But until then he would settle for entering the bookstore after you, trailing his hands over the shelves he knew you touched.
It was through this book-store that he finally found your name. His lovers name. He was skulking around the shelves just out of your view, watching you, and occasionally taking a quick photo, with the new phone he had recently brought. More modern than the last one - not just because he needed a better one to film you with, but the decent camera really didn't hurt.
 Not in a creepy, stalker way of course. He was sure if he sat down and asked you, you really wouldn't mind.
"Oh, Sidney!" You called, waving to a girl at the counter. You knew her? "Hey!"
"Oh, hey [Y/N]."
[Y/N]. That was your name. His [Y/N], soon to be [Y/N] Rogers. He felt giddy with delight.
He didn't stop there, either. As time passed, as he memorised your routine, the shitty movie theatre you worked at, your favourite stores and café's and places to be, he started to know when you would and wouldn't be in your apartment. And what good proxy didn’t know how to lockpick?
Your apartment smelt like you, that was the first thing that struck him. A light, airy sort of scent, that he just couldn't get enough of. He found himself leaning down, opening a drawer and taking a long sniff. It looked like mostly fresh laundry, hoodies and shorts.
He had time; he knew that much. You wouldn't return from your job at that crappy local movie theatre for at least another 3 hours. It was a decent enough job, he supposed, though his skin crawled at the thought of you getting hit on or yelled at by customers. He had had half a mind to follow you and wait just outside, to give anyone who gave you a hard time or even looked at you funny a piece of his mind. He refrained, for now however, deciding instead to make the most of his time and spending it getting as close to you as physically possible. Speaking of close..
As he rummaged through your drawers, he came across one with more.. Intimate content. Underwear, it looked like. Your underwear. He reached his hands into the dresser, taking out a bra almost reverently. This had touched your skin, and not just your skin. Your breasts. He was indirectly touching your breasts. His face was burning and his heart was pounding as he held it, grinning so wide it would have hurt if he could feel pain.
He set it back down in the drawer as another thing caught his eye, what looked like a matching set. Lacy black panties and a skimpy black bra. He hadn't imagine you'd own something like that, but he wasn't complaining. Quite the opposite in fact. He'd ask you to wear it for him when you two were together, but for now, his imagination would suffice. He stuffed a pair of panties he was sure you wouldn't miss into your pocket, and turned to look at the rest of the room.
Over the next week or so, he made himself at home when you weren't there. It was as if he was your lover, your live in boyfriend. He used your toothbrush, laid in your bed, next to where you would lay, imagining your sleeping form lying next to his. He 'borrowed' your clothes and rummaged through your bins, and even killed those racoons that had been raiding your bins for you. He did feel a little bad for the beasts, but anything that inconvenienced his love could not be tolerated. 
As a testament to his own self-control, he managed to prevent himself from hiding in your closet and watching you sleep for the majority of the days, no matter how tempting it was. That was, until, you tripped and hurt your ankle on the way to work. And since he could hardly pick you up and kiss you and take care of you, he would do the next best thing. Stick around and make sure you were okay.
That was all he was doing, he told himself, as he shut the door on himself, leaving a good 30 minute window for you to get back. He was being a good boyfriend.
The closet wasn't quite spacious by any means, but he fit fine, If his legs were bent at a weird angle. What did it matter? It wasn't as if he could feel them cramping, and even if he could, it would be worth it to be so close to his beloved. Perhaps it was stupid, reckless. What if he ticced and alerted you? What if you ran, or called the police? Nevertheless love clouded over his logic and better judgement, and so he stayed.
He was euphoric when you got back, not even casting a glance at the usually empty closet. He peered through the gap in the door with wide, enraptured eyes as you continued your daily routine. He stayed staring as you sat on your laptop, and especially as you changed into more comfortable clothes, facing directly at him. It was hard to tell whether the pounding of his heart in his throat and his shaking hands as he took the phone out were nerves at the thought of being seen, or excitement at seeing you so bare in front of him, in just your underwear.
When he felt the tightness in his pants, he decided it was the latter.
                           -o0o-
Over the next few days, he became a regular in your closet too. Spending the night in the mansion became a rarity that  he only happened to do when he came back from a late night mission and needed a shower and change of clothes. He preferred being with you, of course, no one enjoys being away from their partner.
The winter was fading by the time he worked up the balls to talk to you again. You were at work in the movie theatre, and he decided he would visit you. He would charm you, and ask you for your number, he had it all planned out.
He donned the best clothing he could find in his closet - a Black turtleneck instead of his usual scrappy hoodies, some trousers, he'd shined his boots, and even worn some cologne! He'd stolen it from a victim previously, and until now, he never had a reason to wear it. He gave himself one last cursory glance in the mirror on the way out, checking his hair wasn't as unruly as usual and that his gash was covered, and left.
The movie theatre wasn't too busy, he was relieved to see. There were only two people on cashier duty, you, and another girl. Most people were in her queue, he noted. She looked pretty, he supposed that was the reason why.
Idiots. Why even look at her when they could be blinded by the perfection that was you? Although, internally he was glad really. Less competition.
He tried to seem as casual as possible as he strode in, taking his place in your line, behind what looked like a young couple. How ironic, Toby thought, that he was behind a couple. That was what they were about to be. In love, holding hands, giving each other knowing glances and kisses on the cheeks.
When it was his turn, he walked up to you, jerking his neck and giving a nervous smile, trying and failing to seem like some confident heartthrob.
"Oh, hey, I know you" You spoke, returning his smile. You remembered him. Had you been thinking about him too? "You're uh.. Convenience store guy, right?"
 "Y-yeah, that's me. Hey."
"Hey" If you continued smiling like that at him he might just turn into mush in front of you. "What can I get for ya?"
"Oh, uh.." He looked up at the digital signage showing the movies on, deciding on some generic looking horror movie "H-how’s 'The - wow! - the Blackcoats daughter'?"
"One ticket for the Blackcoats, alright. Anything else I can get for you sir?"
"Muh-my names Toby, not sir" He stuttered out, earning a little laugh from you that made his heart soar "One B-bucket of popcorn please? L-large"
"That was horrible. I'm [Y/N]. " you respond, before you turn around, perfect hair swishing behind you as you start to fill up a box of popcorn for him. Now was his chance. C'mon Toby, c'mon- She remembered him, she must like him too.
"O-oh, and I forgot one - birdie - one thing."
"Hm?" You turn and face him again
"c-could I get your number? To g-go." He gave you the most charming smile he could muster, though It most likely ended up looking like a begging puppy, desperate for a treat.
You were surprised for a second, blinking a couple of times, before he could see your face flush the prettiest pink you'd ever seen, opening your mouth for a second, searching for a response. You seemed flustered - he made you flustered. God, you were so cute it made him ache.  "W-well, sure, do you want me to write it down, or..?"
"I-I have a phone, hang on" He fished his phone out of his pocket, quickly checking his photos app was shut. It would be unfortunate if you saw just how much he adored you quite yet.
You took the phone and typed it in, naming your contact '[Y/N] :)', before handing the phone back. As he took it, your fingers brushed his, and he could of sworn he felt actual electricity pass through you, fingertips tingling where he left yours.
He sent a little text 'Hi, it's toby :)' to test you hadn't given him the wrong number by mistake, smiling even wider when your phone gave an affirmative chime, his bandage over his mouth crinkling a little.
"T-thanks" He managed, sure his voice sounded positively giddy with delight.
"No problem" You smiled back at him "Have a good view!"
He took his ticket and popcorn, and in his excitement, strode out of the movie theatre entirely, forgetting the movie he'd brought. His head was far too full of thoughts of his beloved.
          -o0o-
As much as he longed to spend another night with you, that day he had a mission to attend to. It didn't dampen his mood however, he didn't think anything could. He got your number. You liked him! You had to, why else would you give it to him? He was so excited he was practically vibrating.
He swung one of his hatchets over his shoulder, practically skipping down the hall and out the door to where Tim and Brian were waiting to murk some oblivious camper who had decided to set up camp in the forest.
"Someone's in a good mood" Tim spoke with his southern drawl, flicking his cigarette butt onto the forest floor and crushing it with the heel of his boot, before taking his mask and covering his face fully once again, letting out a tired sigh. He was one of the few proxies who didn't take much joy in killing.
Toby just nodded. He sure was.
Brian was silent, striding ahead of them, presumably in the direction of their latest victims. His AK-47 strapped to his back, and the baclava with the odd looking frown already donned.
"Hoodies frontin'" Tim spoke, explaining the silence from the man, as he followed along. Hoodie was generally non-verbal, so it didn't surprise him.
Toby had trouble concentrating, on the walk to the campsite. His mind kept drifting to you. More than once Tim had caught him taking his phone out and glancing at the screen. He was just checking if you'd responded to his text, even though he assumed you wouldn't until your shift was over.
"Waiting for somethin'?" Tim spoke, briefly pausing his walk to look at Toby
"Nuh-nothing."
Their short interaction was interrupted by Hoodie holding his hand up to silence them, pointing to a tent in the woods a  little way ahead of them. It looked to be a family of three. A father, a daughter, and a Wife. All easy enough targets, no visible weapons save for the pen-knife on one of the logs. That wouldn't be even close to a match for one of them, let alone all three.
"We'll each take one" Tim said, breaking the silence, earning a nod from Hoodie and a 'yep' from Toby. It was go time.
Toby started to walk over slowly, before stopping, just before they noticed him, wet leaves making soft sounds under his feet. He readied his hatchet, holding it behind his head. Three, two, one..
Thwack.
The hatchet landed where he wanted it with a wet thud, buried halfway through the mans forearm. Sure, he could have gone for the head, but he hardly felt like a quick kill. He needed a way to vent out all his excitement, after all.
The man was shocked to the point he couldn't move, eyes wide and staring in horror at his now half-attacked limb, nerves severed, falling limp in front of him with Toby's axe still lodged in. Toby himself let out a manic 'whoop whoop!', the adrenaline of the kill finally kicking in.
The shrill, terrified scream of the child was cut short by the echoing sound of a shot, and Toby watched as a round buried itself in her forehead. Hoodie, always the efficient one.
And then the man stood up, lunging for the knife, and his tunnel vision kicked in, as he sprinted to him, remaining hatchet in hand. It was somewhat impressive, Toby noted, he could even stand losing that much blood at once. Nevertheless, he wouldn't be standing much longer, as Toby barrelled at him full speed, sending the two of them sprawling into the ground, leaves flying up in a shower as they thudded down.
Toby came to his senses first, raising himself up, hatchet behind his head, grinning like the maniac that he was. Thud. Crack. The sweet sound of ribs crunching under his hatchet. He looked down, watching the way the blood squirted and pooled on the still-screaming mans chest. Again. Thwack. Crack. More blood, more screams. He was vaguely aware of it splashing his face as he licked his lips, acknowledging the familiar copper tang against his tongue.
In a sudden show of theatrics he dropped the axe to his side, bending down over the rib-cage and tearing the ribcage apart, the muscle and sinew nothing compared to his advanced strength. With a tear they were out of the way, strew either side of the now motionless corpse of the man. He plunged his hand into his chest, searching around in the guts, which were slippery with blood, before coming across what he wanted. The heart.
With a swift flick of his wrist he plucked the heart out of the mans chest, watching as it beat in his tight grip. He held it up, briefly considering gifting it to you. He could buy you some flowers and turn up at your door, blood-stained from head to toe, and present them to you.
"I killed him because I love you!" He'd say, and you'd swoon and fall into his arms and kiss him as he carried you back.
As oblivious as he was, he wasn't so stupid as to actually think your reaction would be so eager, casting the thought away. He snorted, throwing the heart so it hit the back of Tim, who was standing over the woman’s body, her neck neatly broken.
He spun around "Don't do that shit, Toby!"
Toby just giggled, righting himself and kicking the head of the body, watching it loll. As he stood up, he noticed something sticking out of his torso. Was that..? He pulled it out, and sure enough, there was the knife the guy had. Huh, he actually landed a hit. Kudos to him. The knife was discarded on the ground.
Hoodie cleared his throat, beckoning them to follow him back to the mansion, and so they did, in mostly silence. Tim neglected to point out Toby's incessant phone checking this time, thankfully.
He made his way back to the mansion, avoiding most of it's residents other than a quick scratch of Smile Dog. Locking the door to his room, stripping down and dumping his axes on his bed along with his phone, glancing down at where the knife had wounded him. Sure enough, it was already starting to scab up. One benefit of being a proxy was it was really, really hard to get hurt.
He slipped into the shower, not bothering to change the temperature on the water. He couldn't feel it after all, why bother?
By the time he'd gotten out, less than 10 minutes later, he chucked a towel round himself, not bothering to comb his mop of hair. He'd gotten all the blood out of it, that was good enough.
He leant over, dripping water on his bedsheets and dirty clothes, to check the phone. He beamed, looking down at the notification on the home screen, Letting out a content kind of sigh. He swept the bloody clothes and axes off the bed, dropping the towel on the floor and crawling in, not bothering to get dressed. He was too excited to talk to you now, what did that matter?
'Hey :)' You'd said, followed by 'Sorry the response was late, was still at work'
He briefly debated his response, before settling with a simple 'It's fine :)'
'How are you?'
'I'm good' he paused, he didn't want to seem too dry. 'Just been working out.' Well.. It was just a little lie, really. All that running and killing counted as exercise, surely.
He talked to you for almost a whole hour, kicking his legs like a schoolgirl every time you'd responded to him. He'd asked about your favourite book series, grinning as wide as he could when you infodumped to him. You felt close enough to share this with him! He was over the moon.
Eventually it came to an end as all good things do and you said goodnight, telling him you had work the next morning. And you needed to rest. He knew. It was cute you wanted to tell him though, like you cared, wanted to make sure he didn't feel like he was being ignored. You were so considerate; his lover was so cute.
He turned out the lights, laying on his side with the phone, scrolling through the pictures and videos he had of you. It had become a nightly routine whenever he was in the mansion, to help you feel closer to him.
He came across a photo he had recently taken - you in that matching black set he'd found when he first broke into your apartment. You were trying it on in the mirror, and holy shit, you looked perfect. The most beautiful thing he'd ever laid his eyes on. Even now, in a slightly grainy image taken through the drawer of a cupboard, he couldn't tear his eyes away.
Sure enough, he felt a familiar feeling in his lower stomach, looking down. He could spare a few minutes before he went to bed.  
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oatmealdaydreams · 1 month ago
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Black Hole Fantasy: even in my fantasy, I keep the car running / in case I need to take off
Please let me know if ya wanna be added on or taken off the general taglist!
Part 2
Inspired By Works: the Shifter Stan AU made by @the-east-art! Check out her stuff, it's super good. Shout out to East!
Pairing: Stan Pines & Ford Pines, gen
Warnings: Homelessness, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse
Summary: Back when he first leaves New Jersey, Stanley Pines discovers something new about himself on the streets. It’s dark, and there’s hardly anyone else on the road as he drives in the rough terrain of Mount Tammany. He figures out a little comfort when he can’t stop thinking about how his brother’s doing.
[Masterlist] | ao3 link
[read under the cut]
Midnight skies have always been beautiful with twinkling stars and darkened clouds, but Stan Pines does not have time for anything beautiful. 
The soft rumble of his car—the Stanleymobile, the El Diablo—helps keep him awake at the wheel. Various failed products are scattered in the back, alongside whatever spare clothes he has in his dufflebag. There’s even a spare suit for when he tries doing this door-to-door salesman gig over in Pennsylvania. He’s gotta keep a bright-colored winning smile for any potential customers, so he has a couple of makeshift suits to match it. This is the seventies, after all. Or is it the eighties? Whatever, doesn’t matter. He’s got this new idea for a cheap bandaid deal that’s sure to make some dough. Stan’s…starting to run low on gas again, nevermind the fact he’s not sure when his next meal will be. There’s probably some joint on the roadside he can steal some shit from. Pennsylvania is a new adventure. 
Banned from New Jersey, huh? Well, it isn’t like he has much to stay for. His Pa ain’t too fond of him. His Ma can only do so much with Pa still around. His brother…Stan shakes his head lightly as he turns a corner. In the dark of night, the shrubs and trees surrounding the roadside look more menacing. It doesn’t help the fact that there’s not really any railing out where he drives. Maybe there’s more of it up the mountainside or something. He hopes so, at least. Stan hates driving so high up like that. It feels as though he may plummet if he makes too sharp a turn. 
He tries the radio, having to smack it a few times to get it to work. Turning the dial, the stations flicker through bullshit talk shows and half-crackling static. He growls, shutting it off. Ain’t like he’d hear much of any music anyway, what, with the way his ears hurt from the pressure up in the mountains. Moses, he hates driving through Mount Tammany. He’s not doing this again. It’s not like he can come back to Jersey without some repercussions, anyhow. 
Something sad, empty, somber settles in his chest. He can’t return to Glass Shard Beach ever again. Not to his Pa’s face; he kicked him out. Not to his Ma’s face; he’ll disappoint her. Not to his brother’s face. Not…yeah. Maybe it’s best if he doesn’t return for a long while. At least, until he has a fortune to appease his Pa. He’s gotta make something of his sorry self, y’know. Make ‘em all proud and shit. Like a good son would. And, well, though he’s never claimed to be a good anything, there’s this stubborn hope that he can find a way to fix things. Make ‘em better. He can hide the less tasteful sides of himself if it means seeing his family again. 
Stan may be a dumbass, but he knows something’s wrong with him. Normal people can’t grow an extra finger at will. Normal people don’t shapeshift like they’re some weirdo from those books Sixer used ta read. 
Does he still read those? Or has he moved to all that college junk where he reads a bunch of nonsense textbooks? Y’know, with all those equations and nerd words and everything? 
Stan focuses on the road. 
It’s empty out here. Crickets and cicadas keep the ambience not so creepy-like. There’s no one out here. It’s just Stan and the Stanleymobile. Stan and Stan. Just…Stan. 
He doubts anyone’s gonna care if he neglects to use his blinker a few times. The brights on the car don’t work too well, so it ain’t like his lights will blind something. He swears they keep making brighter and brighter lights on cars these days. Someone’s oughta crash in a ditch from it eventually. 
Ford always complained about the lack of brights on the El Diablo. ‘What if it’s dark and you’re stranded, Stanley?’ he’d say, ‘What are you going to do if it comes down to you being on your own? What if there’s no one to help you?’ Kind of ironic, actually. Was he some future-seeing weirdo? Heh, imagine, his brother, some superhero who could see the future. Stan wonders if he’d have warned him if he saw what would happen. If he knew, would he’ve told him? Tried an’ helped him figure some shit out?
Ugh, he needs to stop thinkin’ about all this! 
Stan doesn’t need to glance down at his hands to know a sixth finger grows on them. 
Fuck, he thinks as he pulls over on a little lookout thing meant for resting travelers or sightseers. Fucking Christ almighty. 
He stops the car, not wanting to waste gas. Taking his hands off the wheel, Stan glances down at them with a huff. Yeah, he was right. A sixth finger on each hand, just the way it is on his brother’s. Maybe if Stan wore glasses on his face, they’d truly be hard to tell apart. He’d look all nerdy and…like Ford. He’d look like his brother. 
His throat’s dry. He has to swallow down whatever’s prickling his eyes. Stan isn’t gonna cry. That’s not—he’s not gonna get all weepy over hands. 
He’s not.
He’s not. 
He’s…
Shit.
Stan ignores the way a few stubborn tears glide down his face. He ignores the way his breath hitches at the thought of his brother. He ignores the thrumming, buzzing emptiness that grows a pit in his chest. It feels grey. It feels like static. It hurts in a way that doesn’t bleed. It hurts. He can feel that pit surge when he tries to take a fucking breath. It doesn’t help much. Stan just stares all teary-like down at his stupid hands as he clenches and unclenches them. He shifts one back to its typical five-fingered form. With shaking hands, he intertwines them. One six, one five—just like it used ta be. He grips his hands tighter as he lets out the first cry. Stan shuts his eyes and tips his hand back against the headrest. If he looks down at his hands for any longer, he’ll break. He can’t break. He can’t let himself break. 
Outside the car windows is a dark, starry sky that twinkles. 
Somewhere in a last-ditch-effort type of university, a six-fingered student watches the same stars.
Taglist: @lost-in-thought-20 @thegoldenduckie @not-sure-what-im-feeling
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icannotpickanamewtf · 1 year ago
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The Day The Music Died (Part Two)
(PART ONE)
Possessive!Spot x femSpider!Reader & Possessive!Miguel x femSpider!Reader
Summary: Spot looks for you + you are not up for chatting. Things happen. Shit goes down.
Warnings: Cursing/Sexual themes. Angst. Dark!Spot. Maladaptive behavior.
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From that day on, your very first customer, was guess who?
The fucking weirdo.
Every morning he’d come in and pull the same shit. 
Saying to open the register, the he was going to rob you, that he was going to hurt you, blah blah blah.
You honestly could not find it funnier. 
But he had a little complex about your teasing, so just to ensure the safety of the Parkers, you kept it down to a minimum. 
Which wasn’t that helpful.
Part of you even looked forward to his little dramatic entry, he reminded you of a puppy. 
It was a morning like any other, Peter in the back, Mr. Parker in his office, and you dealing with an inter dimensional supervillain that seemed hellbent on terrorizing you. 
This time, you felt a bit more generous with others so you kept your snark under control a little. You loved the fall weather that broke out in New York during September. Especially that you could dress in comfy long-sleeved sweaters. Man-made heat was the fucking dream.
“Why can’t you just let me rob you!” Spot seemed to rely on whining a lot more nowadays. 
“‘Cause that’s not as fun.” You always had a straight face and harsh tone, and you could tell that Spot had adapted to your absence of emotion. 
“Please! Please, just let me rob you this once!” 
You stayed silent as you looked at him in a daze. Spot’s confidence seemed to have increased as he got much <em>much</em> closer to you over the time he decided to target your little shop. 
Now he towered over you as he leaned over the counter. 
Was it bad that you kinda liked his height?
His weirdness was definitely rubbing off on you. 
But it made you feel something at the very least.
“Coffee? Yes or No.”
You had never bothered to ask with his constant banter, but like you said earlier, you were feeling generous. 
Spot seemed a bit flustered at your question and stuttered a bit before finally finding his words again. 
“Oh–Oh! Yes! Absolutely yes! I used to love coffee, more than tea really…Well…the thing is…I–I guess I liked it with two creams and one sugar? Four shots of espresso. Whipped cream too.” He leaned over the display as you turned your back to him to make a coffee. 
“Are you–Are you making me coffee?”
You only gave a soft noise before continuing on with your work. Soon enough, you held his exact order in your hand. 
“Shut up, please.” You thrusted the coffee into his hand, letting him wrap his hands around your right hand that held his coffee. 
Spots large palms engulfed yours completely, but for real. Like you literally could not see a bare centimeter of your hand underneath his. 
He seemed to notice with how he lingered with both of his hands onto of yours. You could even say he seemed enraptured and pleased with this new found discovery. 
“I can’t move my hand. Let go.” You were still as straightforward as always.
If he had a face, you would bet it would definitely be blushing. 
“My bad! Sorry..uh…was thinking about–villain things.” He was totally lying. 
“Yeah. Sure.” 
Spot still seemed out of his element. “Hey…I don’t have any money I can’t–“ 
“I wasn’t expecting you to pay. Don’t.” You couldn’t care less. Really. 
“Oh. Oh, thanks.” Spot relaxed and took a sip of his coffee, 
or more like poured it into his face hole. 
He made a moan to indicate how good it tasted. 
That--was…uhm…a surprise. 
Spot didn’t even realize the effect or what that noise sounded like and just kept telling you thank you between sips of coffee. 
“Don’t drink too fast. You’ll get sick to your stomach.” You weren’t worried, but you didn’t want to have to deal with radioactive–or whatever the fuck he was made out of–throw up on the floor. 
He nodded shyly as he slowed down to enjoy his coffee more. 
“Seriously…thank you. This–This is the first time anyone has…” Spot trailed off as he whispered thanks <em>again.</em>
You knew what he was going to say, so you didn’t let him finish. 
“Ok.” That was enough talking and being open for today. 
“I’m sorry for trying to rob you all this time. Would you–Do you…Do you maybe want to–“ 
Nope. Nope, you were not going to do this. You were feeling generous and this is what you get. Of–fucking–course. 
The bell chimed behind him, causing him to freeze mid sentence. 
Thank god for that annoying door for once. 
“Bye.” 
“Well! Wait–I was thinking–“ 
You literally just stepped back and pretended to check on Peter in the kitchen. You did not want to deal with--with whatever this was.
When you peaked over to see if Spot was still there, you only saw the new customer examining the muffins that lined up behind the glass. 
Walking back out, you looked at the countertop and saw a tiny folded up napkin. A note.
Nope. Nope.
You threw it out before you could think twice. 
–––––––––
The next day, when you groggily woke up from your totally amazing sleep last night--
about three hours at best,
you immediately noticed the heatwave that dripped through your body followed by an unreasonable amount of exhaustion. 
Oh, a breakdown and a cold. 
Yay.
You groaned as you rolled off the safety of your bed and picked up your phone. You called Mr. Parker. 
Mr. Parker said your name softly over the phone as you grunted out a brief hello and a quick explanation to why you weren’t coming into work, saying you were on your period. 
These…lapses…always made you more snappy and sad. Way too sad to deal with customer service.
So, you would prefer to keep your sanity and lock up inside. 
Mr. Parker was more than understanding and you could hear him shouting for Peter to man the counter for the day while he offered to work in the kitchen.   
You ended the call before he could even say goodbye and flopped back into your bed. You forgot all about Spot when your head hit the pillow and the soft fabric of your silk pajama top chilled your scalding heat.  
—————-
Spot walked into Collin’s Coffee. This time, he was going to ask her. Nothing could stop him. Hell, he was a supervillain.
What if she was secretly horrified with how he looked and just didn’t tell him?
No! She was obviously fine with that. She didn’t even flinch when he attempted to rob her for the first time a few months ago. 
Should he be concerned about that?
Too late, since he was already turning the familiar knob to enter the whimsical shop. Spot had to duck in order to fit through the door due to his height. His distorted size was one of his big stand-out features.
Your hand beneath his, covered by the pale expanse of his skin. Clutched around a coffee made for him. He could feel your small knuckles and rough callouses from being burnt from coffee machines. They were soft, natural. They felt perfect in his.
Spot looked up and almost immediately threw out his same old greeting. Expecting to see your dead-faced glare. 
Your lips looked soft, plump. He wondered what it would feel like to touch them. What it would feel like to have them on him. You always were honest and spoke to the point. What did you look like flustered? Would you shake under him? Would you hold him? Would you--
You weren’t there. 
Some kid with brown hair stood in your spot, eyes wide and jaw unhinged as he stared at Spot. 
What?
“Who are you?–“
“What are you?–“ They both said at the same time. 
It was the echoing silence that followed that left pinpricks in his skin(?). Where were you? 
“Where is she?” Spot asked after a few moments of awkward staring. 
“Are you talking about–“
Spot was starting to panic. Who was this kid? Where were you?
“Yes. Where is she.” Static started to seep into his voice and boom throughout the tiny coffee shop. 
“Woah! She’s–She’s at home!” The boy clutched the counter as waves of energy swamped him. 
“Write down her address, please.” Did that sound creepy? Maybe…but Spot needed to know that you were okay. 
You were the only normal, constant, thing in his life left. This was completely reasonable.
“What? No! You–“ The boy, or his name tag said Peter, began to object.
”Now. Address.” Spot started to leer over Peter, intimidating him with the pure strength he held behind his voice. 
Peter hastily scribbled down your house number and handed it over with shaky palms. Spot just took it from him and used a portal to travel to the door of your apartment. 
Hopefully you were alright. 
He could take care of you if you weren’t. 
This was him caring after his…well…his….
You never told him what you guys were. 
Friend?
Yeah. Friends. Like a partner in crime. 
———————
A few knocks racked your wooden door, causing you to wake up for the second time that day. 
You were not in the mood to walk the whole six feet to the front door. So you didn’t.
“–Hello? I’m coming in!” 
Was that…was that Spot?
Before you could even stop him, a black dot appeared in front of your bed and out came Spot. 
“Oh! There you are! You weren’t at work so I–“
Your pajamas consisted of a baby blue silk short-sleeved Macy’s pajama top and skimpy white lace panties that were decorated with Lillies of the valley. 
You weren’t even wearing a fucking bra. 
“Spot. I’m on my period. Relax and shut up. Leave.” You were too exhausted to even question how he knew your address.
“But do you need anything? I could–“
“I am half naked.”
This seemed to snap Spot out of his 'nanny mode' and into his 'flustered grown man mode.' But he didn’t even have the audacity to pretend to look away. 
“Oh! Oh…my bad, sorry. Yep--very sorry.” After looking at you for a bit too long of a time after you admitted your current state, he turned his whole body away from you. 
“Get out of my house. Bye.” Sure, it was a little meaner than you intended, but you genuinely were starting to get a headache. 
“No.”
“What?” You were stunned. 
What did he just say? 
Spot the blushing virgin, 
Spot the failed robber, 
the same Spot that wrung his hands together when you tease him said–
 no?
“I said no.”
Huh. So he grew some balls. But just not at the right fucking time.
“Did you not hear me. I said get the fuck out.” You allowed yourself to be a little more mean. You were starting to get annoyed. 
“You're annoying me. Leave.” 
“No. You are sick. I can take care of you. Just–“ Spot tried to reason with you, even approaching the bed that you laid on. 
“Come near me and I’ll sock you in the face.” You were done being nice. You hated being 'sick.' 
You especially hated it when others saw you 'sick.' 
You were vulnerable when you were 'sick.'
Spot wasn't having it. “Just let me help. I can get you some soup–like chicken noodle or something?”
Shut up.
“I’m vegetarian.”
Please just leave me alone.
“Then vegetable soup! I can steal some soup from the–“
Shut up.
“Don’t.”
Shut. The fuck. Up. 
“It’ll be super easy, I can just teleport–“
“Shut up. Please.” You were so confused. Why was he so adamant on this?
“Just go home.” You flipped so you no longer faced him and closed your eyes. Ignoring the problem always made it go away. 
It was silent.
Fucking finally. 
But weirdly enough, when the echo of silence fell over your room like a weighted blanket, it felt like a stone landed in your gut. 
You felt…guilty. 
Taglist: @arachnagirl--spidergirl
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dyakojaythedevil · 11 months ago
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UNSCHEDULED obsession | Part 1
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Pairing Fem!Reader x Choso | Geto | Mahito
Warning Slightly violent | Reader is half curse and 120 yo | mentions of murders and sacrifices | Guys it includes smut in the next parts, so if you're underage plz don't even start :>
Enjoy the dirty time ;)
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Blood. Blood every where. Blood in the air, blood on their faces, on their shoes, on their hands, on their souls. Blood of all the Jujutsu sorcerers they murdered to get to the old temple in the middle of jungle, buried in the heart of a stone cave.
"This curse better be worth the effort." Mahito mumbled under his breath as the three of them walked into the temple, his tone as annoyed as a spoilt child who didn't get the toy he wanted. Their steps slowed as they reached the glass tomb. The three men circled around the tomb, their gazes narrowing as they watched the body lying in it.
The body of a young girl, h/c hair spread on the gold pillow under her head. Her face pale and designed with black marks, two dark lines starting from her forhead, crossing her eyes and ending in three small beauty dots on her cheeks. She didn't seem in piece, judging by her slight frown and shiny, non-smiling lips.
Similar marks could be seen on the bare skin of her body. Her arms were folded in a cross on her chest, which had a deep hole in it, right where her heart used to beat decades ago. Geto eyed her form carefully and a deep smirk appeared on his face as he answered his young teammate "She is worth it."
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"AAh~" A deep moan left your dry lips and you slowly opened your eyes after a century. Everything was blury, a strong wave of cursed energy surrounding your form as you were lying on a soft matress. "What's.. goin' on..?"
You helped yourself sat up and a smooth laughter echoed in your ears. You rubbed your eyes, blinking a couple of times to help clear your gaze. Finally you could see better and the first thing your eyes noticed were these young men circling around you like scavengers circling around a dead body, their eyes staring hungrily right into your soul.
You frowned deeply and your left hand clenched slightly into a fist. But before you use your energy to harm any of those weirdos, the man in black kimono stepped closer, "Easy there, pretty thing," he started, trying to calm you down before explaining simply "We brought you back to life. A 'thank you' would be nice!"
Your frown deepend as your gaze searched around you, your mind wandering through your latest memories. And then it hit you. You lost the battle, you were sealed away by those damn sorcerers. How many days has passed, or maybe years?
"Ah, fuck!" You cursed under your breath as a wave of pain ran through your forhead. When -THE FUCK- have you become so weak? Your hands grasped at your hair and you cursed a couple of words in quiet whispers. When the slight pain disappeared, your eyes fell on your naked form. There was a wound on the middle on your chest, neat stitches sunken deep into your pale flesh.
"My heart..." You mumbled and slightly rubbed on the wound. "They took it away to seal you properly," the asnwer came from the same man from earlier, "We sacrificed some monkeys to bring you back."
His last sentence made you turn around, only to see three bodies laid down on the floor, skins bloody, necks pulseless. They seemed young, too young to be sacrificed for whatever reason, but in that very moment, you couldn't care less. The only thing that was roaming around your mind, was the threatening reminder that these men surely had a reason to bother to bring you back to life.
You stood up, your legs shaking for a second, threatening to disappoint you. But luckily you managed to hold yourself up. You turned to the man with dark kimono and darker hair, wrapped up in a lazy manbun at the back of his head.
"What do you want?" You asked coldly, your voice low. The guy smirked, pleased with how quickly you got to the main point. yet he kept cool and decided to start with an introduction, rather than an answer to your qustion.
"I'm Geto Suguru, a curse user. And these are Mahito," Geto paused a moment to point to the young guy beside him. Mahito waved to you with a smile, his skin covered in stitches, and his eyes glistening with a psychic shine. "And Choso." The third man didn't bother to move a muscle, continuing to stare right into your eyes.
"That wasn't my answer." You reminded coldly as your gaze turned to Geto once again. The man's smirk widened and he licked his lips. "Alright, then let me get to the main point right away. We want you to work with us to get to a shared goal."
"And what shared goal do I have with you?!" You asked, kind of annoyed by his confidence that seemed to be reaching the skies. You crossed your arms infront of your chest and pretended that the light breeze sneaking through the open window isn't giving you shivers.
"Our goals aren't exactly the same, you see.." Geto started, but was soon cut off by Choso who seemed to be annoyed by the slow progress in the conversation, "We're getting rid of some sorcerers, Zenins involved."
Zenin~! The name rang in your ears over and over again.
Now, that sounded like a good kind of shared goal! You cocked an eyebrow, letting the corners of your mouth curl up in a curious smile. "And what are your reasons for such fearless decision?"
"We all got our own reasons, pretty thing. Revenge, fun, curiousity, but those aren't important. The important thing is that we're all walking the same path, so wht not walk together?"
You took a couple of minutes to think about it as the four of you stood there in silence. Finally, you spoke, "Alright, I'mma listen to what you have to say, but first, give me some damn food.." You said, your eyebrows bending into a deep frown as you added, "And clothes. I'm done watching you check me up and down like a pervert."
Geto's smirk deepened even more. He didn't really seem bothered by your threatening tone, and that pissed you off further. Instead, you noticed Choso turning his gaze away from the corner of your eye. A slightly pink shade was covering his cheeks as well as the bridge of his nose, which was already designed by a black mark.
"Here you go, pretty thing." Your attention was back to Geto who put some clothes on the bottom corner of the bed. The three of them walked out the room and Geto informed before closing the door behind him, "The dinner's ready. We'll be waiting for you. Take your time re-meeting your perfect body."
Then you were left by yourself -well, if not counting the corpse!- to check yourself up in the mirror in the corner of the room. Your looks hadn't changed at all. Which wasn't really a surprise for a curse like your kind. You eyed the wound on your chest once again.
"Those mother fucker Zenins..." You mumbled. A sigh left your lips as you reached for the clothes Geto left for you. It was a baby blue kimono, long enough to cover down to your ankles. You took a minute to feel the sweet warmth of it before heading out the room, searching around for the three man.
The house wasn't that big, but surely enough for three. You hoped it would be enough for four as well. You stepped into the kitchen, finding Choso and Geto sitting around a round table. Geto pulled out the chair next to him, encouraging you to sit. As soon as you did, they started the meal. You started as well, feeling starved after a long sleep of God knows how many years.
"Now, for the plan," Geto started. You just nodded as a sign to assure him you're listening, but you didn't stop enjoying your delicious meal. "We're thinking about attacking Jujutsu High, Tokyo. But first we need to make sure we have enough power to beat them up, especially with Gojo Satoru on their side."
"Who is that?" You finally asked in confusion. Geto mumbled a "oh" before answering, "Right, I forgot you were gone for a hundred years."
That made you choke on your food. You started to cough harshly, eyes tearing up. Geto seemed unbothered, ignoring your coughs. But Choso handed you a cup of water as the other man continued, "He's the strongest sorcerer of all. He owns The Six Eyes, making him a really powerfull enemy."
"And how can I be a help in your plan?"
"Well, I was thinking about doubling our curse techniques for the upcoming battle." You frowned once again -this guy has sweared to fix that frown on your face, hasn't he? You put your spoon down to look at him from the corner of your eyes. And he's doing the same, his never-fading smirk still there on his face.
Choso was watching the two of you carefully and he broke the silence with an unsure tone, "I thought we wanted to send her to Jujutsu High as a spy to weaken Gojo Satoru."
"You see, Choso, there are so many good ways to use a pretty thing like her for our own good." Geto chuckled before getting back to his meal. The combination of his tone and words sent a shiver down your spine. But Geto changed the subject as if his earlier words meant nothing, "Since we should wait for the right time to start our plan, what do you think about a tour around the town? We can buy you some clothes as well, as you'll be around here for a long time now."
You could feel that this wasn't just about 'walking around Tokyo' and 'buying clothings'. He was up to something, that was for sure. But what?
"Sounds like a good idea. Can we go after we finished dinner?" You suggested, trying to hide the curiousity in your tone. Whatever was going on in his mind, you preffered to find out sooner than later. It wasn't like you couldn't beat him if he tried any funny trick on you. True, without your heart, you weren't that powerful. But you were still one of the most powerful curses of all.
"Fine with me." was all Geto mumbled as an answer.
"By the way, where is the other one? Mahito.. was it, right?" You asked when you noticed that there's no sign of the said young man. Choso answered whispering, "He doesn't really eat meals. He's always out at nights, so never eats with us."
You eyed the man carefully and caught him looking at you. But Choso stole his gaze away as soon as your eyes met, the pink layor on his cheeks still there.
A psycho who probably feasted on people instead of food, a mysterious pervert that surely had some not-so-innocent plans for you, and a weirdo that couldn't stop peeking at your form for some reason. What a nice group of suspecious men to work with.
What a great way to restart your life after a century!
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Just as planned, Geto and you left the house after dinner to take a walk around the neighborhood. Tokyo had changed quite a lot since the last time you were there, with the amount of curses roaming around freely being a good example.
"So, what is the real plan you're thinking about?" You finally spoke out, tired of the silence and all the theories of possible ideas in your head. Geto let out a chuckle, "Too impatient, pretty thing."
"You see~" Geto startd, his tone low as the two of you walked shoulder by shoulder, passing by strangers who looked at you in awe; probably because you looked like a remarkable couple thanks to your kimonos, shining amoung others. "As I mentioned before, I'm planning to double our cursed techniques for the up-coming battle. And that's your technique, isn't it?"
You hated that suggesting grin on his face when he said that. Yeah, geto was right, that was your technique. you could either double someone's cursed energy for a period of time, making them more powerful, or lessen it. Both being done by means of sex. And the man next to you seemed to know that.
"And what if I refuse the suggestion?" Geto's laugh rang in your ears. It sounded fake, too fake, actually. It felt as if he wanted to sound like that. "Oh, pretty thing, how funny of you to think that was a suggestion."
By the time he said that, you were heading towards a less crowded place. You weren't sure where to go so you were just following him around and didn't pay much attention to your surroundings. Not until you found yourself alone with him, within a seemingly abandoned alley.
When you noticed your not-so-safe-and-lovely situation, your hands both turned into fists, ready to beat him and run. But the man seemed to be faster as you felt a strong wave of pain through your whole body. Your knees weakened and you stepped back until your back hit the wall behind you. You slid down a bit, using the wall as a source of strength to keep your balance.
Geto's chuckle echoed in your ears once again. You looked up at him with disgust written all over your pale face. Geto walked to you slowly, standing only an inch away and bending so your faces were on the same level.
"You felt that, sweetheart, didn't you?" His sadistic tone made you feel nausea. "What was that? What have you done to me?"
Another wave of whisper-like laughter left his lips as he stepped even closer, caging you between his body and the wall. "You see, Y/N, bringing you back to life, without your heart, wasn't easy. We had to do much more than just murdering some useless Jujutsu sorcerers and sacrificing some teenagers. Each of us left a part of ourselves inside you, literally."
He paused a moment to put a finger under your chin, making you raise your head to look him directly in the eye. And by the second he touched you, you could feel your body go weaker and weaker.
Geto's triumphantly smirk deepened as he explained further, "I used one of my most powerfull curses to replace your heart, filling the hole in your chest. And since you have no real heart to pump blood in your veins, Choso used his own blood to make sure life runs through your pretty limbs. And you see that perfectly done stitch on your chest, sweety? Mahito made it with his own skin."
All the new information, combined with whatever curse Geto was using on you, made your head dizzy. The more time passed, the less you could understand. Eveything was getting blurry. You didn't even realize when your body trembled down on the cold street. Now you were sitting there patheticly with the smirking man knelt infront of you.
"Hurt or disobey me, and my curse would rip you from inside. Hurt or disobey Choso, and his blood would tear your veins apart and spoil your bone and flesh. Hurt or disobey Mahito and his stitches would tighten and rend your limbs one by one." Every threatening word was said from between his gritted teeth.
"So you're telling me..." You started, conciousness soon to leave your form judging by your slow progress in making real meaningful sentences, "I didn't really have a choice from the very moment I opened my eyes, do I?..."
"Oh~~ Of course you do, pretty thing." His tone sounded sweet as honey and smooth as butter. But it just sent a shiver down your spine as you already could say it was all fake; just another sadistic attempt to degrade and manipulate you further.
And you were proven to be right as your gaze blurred into pure darkness, all senses leaving your weakened body. And just before you lose conciousness, you heard him;
"Obey us or be killed!"
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Author's Note yuhoooo~ So, first part done :> I'm so excited to see the reactions! Well, the speed in uploading the next part would greatly depend on the reactions this part will get, so~ I hope you guys like this ^^ Oh! And I'm not a native English speaker, so I'll be glad if you mention my grammar mistakes so that I can correct them :> Thank you~ <(^0^)/♡
Check Part 2 here...
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rollinouttahere-writes · 1 year ago
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Could you imagine the horror on Lucky’s face when she meets Kid tho??? She’d just be fucking chilling and all the sudden someone’s calling her, her full government name????? I’d shit myself genuinely cause NO ONE supposed to know that??? And the Straw Hats reaction would be pure gold cause who the FUCK is (y/n) (m/n) (l/n) and why is this Red head running at Lucky full speed yelling that shit???
Lucky just vibing without a yandere around for ONCE:
Kid, rapidly approaching and about to change that: “(Y/N) (M/N) (L/N) OH MY GOD I FINALLY FUCKING FOUND YOU??? WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS SHIT IN YOUR BAG??? (Y/N) (M/N) (L/N) DON’T IGNORE ME!!!” 🏃🏻‍♂️💨
Lucky having an outta body experience cause she almost forgot what her full name sounded like:
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She’s on the verge of tears but Kid’s having the greatest day ever he finally found her!!! (He also feels like he’s got special privileges/connection to Lucky cause he knows her full name and it was him and his crew that found her bag he’s in his delulu era)
LMAO yeah it's like a straight up jumpscare
Lucky is scrambling to figure out how he knows her entire legal name, then there's Luffy who does know her first name but is confused about who (m/n) and (l/n) are supposed to be. There's no one else here, who is this weirdo yelling at?
I do want to quickly amend a little plot hole I noticed in my last post about Kid. I forgot that Lucky would have a bounty poster by then (gets one after Enies Lobby with everyone else), so he would already be aware of her and actively tracking down the Straw Hats at that point. The different names are a little odd, but maybe she's using an alias or whatever? The first interaction still goes the same, it's just no longer a coincidence that they ran into each other.
He would think he's special for knowing her real name, but he'd be willing to switch to calling her Lucky after she complains about it enough. Or in the Strays AU he would call her that sooner because it would be less confusing since there are three people with the same name.
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salternateunreality2 · 7 months ago
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Good Rocks (ND AGSZC AU)
From the @strayheartless archives <3 (kudos for the ‘emotional support rock’ line)
I’m sure @heraldofcrow knows what Good Rocks are. Seems like a crow thing to know.
Zack and Cloud both understand the concept of “good rocks”. Good Rocks are rocks that are good. They feel good or look good or have good vibes or all of the above. Sometimes this means they’re smooth river rocks with the pattern of a smiley face, sometimes it means they’re skrunkly weirdo rocks full of holes and as orange as cheddar cheese.
The two of them sometimes bring each other and their boyfriends Good Rocks. Zack will bring a whole collection for Cloud to pick through so they can decide together what to give to the others, while Cloud will carefully select perfect rocks the first time for each of them.
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Angeal thanks them each time and uses them to decorate his indoor garden. He doesn’t really understand why each rock is Good, or really what the importance of Good Rocks is, but he gets that it’s an expression of love and thoughtfulness and treasures them for that. He reciprocates by bringing them little treats every now and then. His favorite rock is about the size of his fist, the biggest any of them has, and has 5 lumps that vaguely look like the 5 of them. If you squint.
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Genesis talks a big game about not understanding, but he’s full of shit. He completely understands Good Rocks, and while he casually thanks the boys for each gift, they all know he carefully arranges them on his windowsill to catch the light if they’re pretty. If they’re less pretty, he carries them around in his pockets or hides them in a special box in his desk drawer. He reciprocates with jewelry. His favorite is the translucent red one that’s kind of spiky and has patches of jet black along the bottom.
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Sephiroth is genuinely confused, but supportive. He likes lining them up on his shelves and always carries at least one in his pocket. Sometimes he finds Good Rocks while he’s out and sends a pic to Zack and Cloud for their input. They are very philosophical and slowly train his taste to be ✨excellent✨. His favorite is a smooth, oblong, dusky green one.
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Cloud’s favorite is an obsidian rock with a very sharp edge along one side. He uses it to cut things and threaten people.
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Zack’s favorite is one he swears looks just like a moogle; a dense, round, white rock that always seems cool to the touch, even if he’s been holding it for a while.
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—--
On a mission with Sephiroth and Cloud... 
Sephiroth: Cloud. I have a selection of rocks here, are any of them Good Rocks? I wish to present Zack with a souvenir. 
Cloud: *immediately and intensely sorts through them and picks out the good ones*
—--
In Midgar…
Heidegger: CADET! WHY ARE YOUR POCKETS RATTLING!?
Sephiroth: Those are his emotional support rocks.
Heidegger: What kind of liberal bitch baby nonsense is ACK! OUCH! AAAAAA! 
Cloud: *hefts another rock to throw* I feel emotionally supported.
Sephiroth: *helping himself to another few rocks to keep throwing* Me too. Say, have you seen Hojo anywhere?
—--
Zack explaining it to Genesis: My lizard brain just locks on and says "ROK. TAKE ROK. GOOD ROK." and I obey.
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lowkeyrobin · 6 months ago
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Hello I was wondering if you’d be able to write a Ranboo from the we bounced to the death video x Gender neutral reader? :) (only if you’d write for them Ofc, I’m not sure if so but if not then just disregard this)
-💠
ooo yeah sure!! ; also any like characters of charlie/ranboo/tommy in sorry videos I will do! even if it's the old ones with the man who we don't name, I'll just cut him out of it lmao. I'd love to write for sorry apocalypse! ranboo or tommy so feel free to request any sorry!character version requests haha ; thanks for requesting! hope you enjoy :)
SORRY! RANBOO ; urban jump
summary ; you and ranboo are both angsty teens working at urban jump when tumgo shows up to hang out with chounce and master zah
warnings ; language, ranboo pulls their mask down for a moment
word count ; 1.4k
masterlist
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"I literally don't understand this shit"
"Me neither"
You and Ranboo share a quick glance, then look back down at Tungo and Chounce bouncing about the trampolines while Master Zah sits criss-cross on a center stand.
"Do they actually think they're built like sumo wrestlers, or is it supposed to like, impress people? What-what is the point here?" You ask, furrowing your eyebrows as you squint at them.
"I have no idea. Every Tuesday they're in here, they rent the place out all day" Ranboo shrugs.
The two of you travel down, needing to clean up a bit and disinfect the areas they weren't currently using. Their camera man stops you two, explaining some things before flicking it on. You two stand next to each other, tired and confused.
"Wh-What is this for again?" Ranboo asks. "Documentary?"
You rub your eyes, looking back at the weirdos to keep an eye on them so they couldn't reak havoc while out of your peripheral vision.
"Yeah, so, they've been coming here for about, I don't even know how long. I've only started working on this shift a few weeks ago"
"A couple months, maybe." You shrug, "They didn't start renting the place out til then, at least"
"They come in, they rent the place out, and they uhm, they just kinda, bounce for a bit. Fight a lot. I'm just getting paid and it's less kids to work with. So, it's a win in my book"
You nod, "I'd take them over a bunch of disgusting feral children"
He nods before the camera is put down.
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"I need to retreat into my Chounce Sanctum, Chounce Hole!"
You watch as Chounce becomes one with his fake sumo wrestler body, using it as some kind of shell like a snail or a turtle.
"Alright, alright everyone. What do we think of this?"
You and Ranboo share confused looks, watching from the sidelines. You sit next to each other on a hard ledge a few feet away, absolute confusion painting your expressions.
Ranboo looks back at the camera, "This has got to be a disease, right?"
"Maybe he's like... challenged"
"He's challenged in more ways than one"
Master Zah speaks up, seeing Chounce was using his body as a shell. "I don't see enough bouncing!"
"Don't come in. Dude, I'm jacking my hog"
You and Ranboo become even more confused and now concerned.
Ranboo speaks up, "Wait, you're what, man? What're you doing in there?"
"Dude? What? How many times do I have to tell you, dude? I'm yanking on my freaking porker, dude! Don't come here!"
"Ew, what the fuck?" You look at Ranboo, "Biohazard on aisle fifteen, pal"
They stand up, walking toward Chounce, "Dude, c'mon, you can't- you can't do that here"
Ranboo pulls Chounce's weird little helmet back, revealing his defeated face. He walks away to talk to the camera after a few seconds, which you watch.
He then runs back out, apparently destined to do a flip. He quickly falls up the stairs and then cries, though. So, maybe today wasn't the day.
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After some more weird and delusional grown man antics and practically babysitting, you retreat downstairs to the little playground area. Ranboo apologizes to Master Zah, who's sitting in the middle of the Under 5 Soft Play pit, crying as he's hidden in his skin shell.
"Zah?" Tungo calls as he approaches.
"How did you find this place?"
"It's next to the slushee bar"
Ranboo continues with his apology while you sit at the slushee bar, making yourself a treat.
"It's, it's not my place to ruin anyone's fun here."
Tungo falls into the pit, probably breaking a tooth somehow with the fall.
"Hey, man, we're trying to have a moment"
Tungo doesn't respond, he rather climbs into the little playground.
"It's not my place to ruin anyone's fun here-"
Tungo rustles around the plastic balls in the playground pit, causing a loud and obnoxious noise to sprout.
You walk over to Ranboo, sharing your slushee with him after he'd given up on trying to tame Tungo and apologizing to Master Zah.
"Tungo, dude, I was wrong!" Chounce falls into the soft play pit after he lays his eyes on Tungo, hiding in the playground behind a little plastic window section.
He quickly stands up, then pounds on the plastic to get Tungo's attention. He falls back on the ground quite roughly, then breaks out into song about wanting life to be like trampolines?
You and Ranboo walk away, having had enough and now sweating in your hoodies. You warn the trio to behave as you walk away, heading toward the locker room to switch into your company t-shirts.
"I can not believe we're still babysitting these delusional weirdos," Ranboo comments, pulling out his lanyard of keys to open the staff only door.
"Me neither." You shrug, pulling out your own lanyard to open your locker as you enter the room. "I'm so serious when I say I'm grabbing my earbuds, I can't listen to their brainrot anymore"
"Good idea"
You unlock your locker, hang your lanyard on the hook inside the door, and switch your phone from your hoodie pocket to your pants pocket. You pull the hoodie off, shoving it into your locker while you pull out the t-shirt you left in there for emergencies. You unfold it and shake it a bit, wanting to get whatever pet fur that was on it off.
Your backs face each other, both now bare as you rush to put your shirts on. You pull your shirt over your head, adjusting it and slightly tucking it into your pants because it was just slightly too big on your torso. You turn around, wanting to ask if he had any deodorant, because you felt gross being around Chounce, even if he wasn't yoinking his shrimp.
"Oh, fuck, sorry!" You quickly cover your eyes and look down, not wanting to invade their privacy as they're half dressed. They'd been turned around as they slid their shirt on, meaning they saw you see them. "Uh, do you have any deodorant?"
"It's fine, uh," They reach into their locker, grabbing some deodorant out for you. "Have fun smelling like Old Spice White Water, whatever that's actually supposed to smell like," He lightly chuckles, tossing you the plastic bottle as you release the hand from your eyes.
"Thanks," you whisper as you catch it, popping the cap off to reveal the product.
You quickly apply a layer under your arms before tossing it back to him, and he places it back in the metal locker. You stuff your earbud case in your pocket for the moment, deciding to connect them after you left, not wanting to take a long time to get back to the man-children. You do the same with your lanyard, stuffing it into your back right pocket, making sure the goods were safe.
You notice Ranboo's muscles, exposed by the short sleeves. The more you look at them, the more you feel compelled to just explore hid lips with yours.
You quickly turn around, close your locker, and head towards the door, before you're stopped.
"Wait, can you help me with something?" They ask, "This tag is itching me, can you cut it off?" They hold up a little pair of scissors for you to use as well.
You nod, step onto the wooden bench behind him, to get some height that you need, and pull up the collar of his shirt. You place your thumb and index finger on the tag, your remaining fingers holding the shirt down. Your dominant hand holds the scissors, cutting into the plastic tag on the back of his company shirt. You cut it off and he turns around, thanking you.
You handed the scissors to him and the cut-off tag so he could throw it away. He looks up at you, and you look down at him, staring into each other's souls.
He places his hands on your cheeks after pulling his mask down to his chin, revealing the lower portion of his face. You quickly peck his lips, feeling your face heat up. His clearly does the same as he pulls the mask up, his cheeks visibly pink.
"Oh my God, dude!" Chounce shouts.
Your heads quickly snap toward the open door, revealing Chounce, Tungo, and Master Zah all standing in the doorway, watching you.
"They're having romance!" Tungo exclaims
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xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 2 years ago
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Does oddduck know that Bruce is Batman or is he just a billionaire helping out Superman? Bc if not it would be adorable for oddduck to go on one of her rabbit holes and gush about Batman meanwhile Clark’s eye is twitching.
I mean she knows but she knows because Clark accidentally let slip the truth- here's his eye twitching anyway
"It was fine, Clark- I just went because-"
"Fine. Right," Clark huffed, watching you pick up a box off your doorstep. "So what did-"
He breaks off and watches you for a second, watching you open the box carefully and pick up a card from the top, biting your lip as you read it before tucking it carefully aside and untying the string that held the brown paper in place. "Did you get an advance on something?" Clark asked, peering over your shoulder to see a leather-bound copy of a book.
"No-"
"It looks pricey," he said, feeling annoyed. Bruce didn't have any idea what he was doing. He couldn't. You were going to think- well. As he watched you open it carefully, skimming your fingers over the words, it was hard to tell what you thought. But, it didn't make him less annoyed.
"Y/N he's dangerous," Clark said softly.
"And you're a space Alien," you point out, "Basically any time we went out in the woods we were one laser blast away from living in ET."
"Y/N-"
"He doesn't even like me that way it's just- I talked about this book a lot when we were in Prague- and he's being nice."
"You like him," Clark said folding his arms.
"Is there anyone who doesn't? I mean isn't that-"
"No, you really like him," Clark said, straining to keep the distaste out of his voice. "But I don't think-"
"Well. Ultimately it doesn't matter what either of us think. It matters that he's just being nice and I'm a way to pass time-"
"Y/N he's not-"
"Pick a struggle, Clark. Either you want me to be happy or you want me to be bubble wrapped but those two things aren't possible at the same time," you sigh, carefully closing the book.
"The last time-"
"Is also not your business," you tell him. "I didn't ask you to interfere-"
"He was a piece of shit," Clark said, "And you just-"
"I didn't 'just' anything," you sigh. "Can you please-"
"If he doesn't treat you right-"
"We're not in a relationship!"
"Well he sent you a book so, if you're not you're the only one who doesn't know yet."
"Clark."
"Just pointing it out-"
"Well don't," you snap. "I don't interfere with you and Lois-"
"Since when?" he snorted.
"Knowing things against my will isn't the same as seeking the information out," you tell him. 'You both tell me everything. All the time. And fuck-"
When your voice breaks off and you walk away from him to get your composure back Clark stops and looks at the box on the table. "Y/N- I don't-"
"I love you both but fuck," you snap, "do you know how fucking lonely it is when your only two friends are a married couple? And every time-" You stop yourself and shake your head, wiping away frustrated tears. "You know what? It doesn't matter. Thanks for your concern but- I don't think it matters."
"Y/N-"
"I'm not talking about this anymore," you tell him. "I'll get the banana bread for you to take to Lois so you don't miss dinner."
Clark nodded silently felt quietly furious with himself as he listened to you rustling around in your kitchen. Of course you were lonely. And of course you were annoyed. And worse you felt like you couldn't say anything. "I'm sor-"
"No."
"Y/N."
"Extra no. Just take your banana bread and hug Lois for me."
"Call Ma," Clark scolded, letting himself be herded out the door, "She misses you."
"I will," you answer.
"Hey," Clark said gently, squeezing you against his side and kissing the top of your head, "I love you, kay? You're my favorite weirdo."
" 'kay," you murmur, hugging him back briefly before letting him go and stepping back into your house.
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starker-raving-mads · 9 months ago
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For You: Part VI
Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII | Part IX
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It took nearly 2 weeks for the TONY profile to run. Every moment felt like the longest 2 weeks of Peter's life. He had Friday giving him updates at every 5% completion, but he only got those updates once or twice a day.
He spent every day at the penthouse in that time, stopping at May's apartment only twice for dinner (after threats of coming to check on just what he was doing in that lab all the time - which, he really did not want to explain). MJ was nearly as concerned but Ned totally seemed to get it.
"Dude if I had access to Tony Stark's lab I would never, ever leave," his friend had gushed at one of their lunches out at a hole-in-the-wall taco place in Queens.
"You are not helping, Ned."
But the Avengers, at least, also seemed to understand.
"This isn't nearly as bad as what Tony used to do," Rhodey said, beer in hand as he and Peter ate away at too much Vietnamese take out around the penthouse kitchen island. "He wasn't exactly the best role model, but I know you nerd types," he chuckled. "You can't help it."
"Thank you," the teen said emphatically. "It's like once I get on a roll I kind of forget time even exists." Which wasn't true, he'd been counting down the hours until the next 5% interval completed since he started running the algorithm to create the TONY sim, but the colonel didn't need to know that.
"Hey, just as long as you still acknowledge the outside world exists I think you're probably doing pretty okay," the older man shrugged. "So outside of becoming an experiment obsessed little weirdo like the rest of them - "
"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," Peter chuckled, stuffing his mouth with dumplings.
" - what have you been up to, Pete?"
It took the young vigilante a solid second to remember life outside the lab.
"Well," he replied, swallowing. He stopped for a gulp of water before continuing. "I picked my classes for the fall semester, which is pretty exciting."
"College is such a game changer," Rhodey agreed, "very exciting. I met Tony in college, you know, back when he was scrawnier than you are now."
"I know," Peter smiled. "He told me; you were a few years older than him at the time, right?"
"Oh absolutely, I was sponsored through the air force," Rhodey nodded. "No 14 year old geniuses in my family," he laughed. "Nah, I was already 20 by the time I met Tony. I was assigned to college dorms because it was just cheaper for the Air Force to put me up through my scholarship. Felt weird being surrounded by a bunch of 18 year olds, but then it got even weirder when Tony was assigned as my roommate."
"I bet it was pretty strange," the teen agreed, stuffing another dumpling in his mouth. The cabbage and meat and spices were just right and he was getting more than a little addicted to them.
"It was, at first," the older man said. "But you know Tony - the man had charisma out the ass even then, and was even more trouble than he was as an adult. Man," he laughed, shaking his head in reverie, "the amount of parties and fights I had to pull him out of. Not to mention that one time he hacked the Pentagon's database."
Peter choked on a dumpling. "He what?" He thought for a second and said, "You know what? I'm not even surprised."
All in all, Peter was pretty sure that his little TONY experiment was way less insane than the shit the older genius had gotten up to in his time and it made him feel a modicum less bad for running such an intense and secret experiment.
And maybe even feel a little closer to his mentor, in a way.
On the 13th day of running the algorithm, though, it finally completed.
"Mom," Friday called, waking Peter out of the doze he'd fallen into on the couch in the penthouse. He'd curled up under the comforter he had stolen away from the master bedroom and was just so comfortable it was hard not to fall into a cozy little nap.
"Yeah, Fri?" He ignored the funny little bright feeling in his chest at Friday calling him Mom - she'd adjusted to it a few days ago, after asking his permission, stating that, 'My research found it is the more common honorific for a close maternal loved one.'
"The TONY simulated Organic Intelligence model has completed."
He sat bolt upright, hair floofing into bedhead curls around his face with the movement. "Oh shit - shoot - uh okay, all right." He scrambled up from the couch, extricating himself from the comforter, and all but ran toward the elevator down to the lab. "Go ahead and boot it up, baby, I'm on my way."
By the time he'd gotten down to the lab, the center of the room was glowing with holographic particles. They floated around for a while before slowly coalescing into a rough blob in the center. The blob started forming distinct shapes at that point - a height of a few inches taller than Peter's own, a lean torso with trim waist, long legs clad in jeans, a torso covered in a very familiar sweater Peter may or may not have worn to bed last night.
Before his eyes, the visage of Tony Stark formed, crystal clear and faintly blue, chest glowing with a fake arc reactor. His eyes were closed but his fingers were twitching, face scrunching. 15 minutes passed with no other change and before he had the courage to ask Friday if it had worked - too scared that it had failed, too scared that it hadn't - the older man's eyes opened.
They glowed a bright, vibrant blue, the same color as the holoparticles and the arc reactor, but the look of them - the tilt of recognition as they took in the lab, the crease between them as they put together the situation - was all Tony.
Peter didn't breath for long moments until the projection in front of him spoke.
"Oh, kid," Mr. Stark said, voice impeccably deep and perfect, shoulders slumping, hands casually being stuffed into his pockets. His entire being screamed the mannerisms of Tony Stark and it both hurt Peter's soul and elated him at the same time.
He was back. He was back.
"Hi, Mr. Stark," the teen said, eyes wide, taking him in.
The older man - the holograph - hummed, looking around the lab like he was taking in the space. He walked over to Peter's desk and went to shuffle some of the paperwork around but his hand passed right through the surface. He chuckled and the sound was deep and rich, as it always had been. He looked over at Peter.
"So, I see you found my Peter Project," he smirked. There was something almost too calm about it, too casual. Peter hadn't known what to expect once he 'woke up' TONY, but it wasn't this somehow.
"Yeah - yeah I did," he ran his hand through his hair, a nervous gesture that fluffed his curls into even wilder disarray than it had been before. "And I did some research and - and I know you couldn't finish it, but - "
"But that you had enough data on me to start me up," the billionaire finished, nodding. "Yeah," he sighed, hands back in his pockets as he sauntered back over to Peter. "I figured you might."
"You - you did?"
"Kid," the man smiled, warm and true this time. "If anyone's gonna know what's going on in that head of yours, it's me," he pointed out. Which, okay, true enough. For a long moment neither of them said anything until Tony sighed, looking over Peter in a way that made his Spidey senses tingle. "I can't believe it worked," he admitted.
"Your logic was sound," Peter rushed out, walking over to the papers scattered over his desk. "You had everything figured out you just didn't have enough data on me, which like I'm sure you realized, obviously, since you had to stop and - "
"No, Pete, I meant the time travel, the undoing of the snap," Tony interrupted.
"Oh," Peter said, very smartly. "Right. Yeah, yeah it worked." He smiled wide and real at the holograph of his mentor. "You brought everyone back!"
"I gotta say," Tony shrugged. He hopped up onto his table, staring into Peter's eyes without any more movement. "I was a little selfish on that front." The way Tony was looking at him was intense and it made Peter's heart beat harder.
"I don't see how it was selfish, Mr. Stark," he shrugged, mimicking Tony's posture by jumping onto his own table. They faced each other now, mirror images - one in holographic blue, and one in full color.
"Because, Pete," Tony said, soft. "It would be a lie to say I did it for any other reason than bringing you back."
Peter's mouth fell open in a soft, surprised gasp. He knew, of course - everyone said, Pepper had said - but it was so different hearing it from what amounted to the man himself.
Tony smiled, soft and sincere, at the look on Peter's face. "There's a lot I don't remember," he admitted. He rubbed a hand on his chest, over and around the glow of the arc reactor. "But I do remember just how important you were to me, kid. I can't imagine the real me being any less devoted to finding a way to get you back."
Peter's breath was coming in quick, sharp pants now. He was trying to slow them down, to breathe, to think but he couldn't - couldn't think of anything but Tony Stark saying he risked the universe just to bring him back. He was hyperventilating, but if this wasn't worth hyperventilating over, what was?
"Kid?" Tony's brows furrowed. "What are you - Friday?"
"Boss, Peter is having a panic attack."
"Shit," the other man swore. He bounded off his table and rushed over to Peter, movement silent and far more quick than any human would be. "Pete, why are you - what do you need?"
"I think you may have overwhelmed Mom with what you said, Boss," Friday supplied helpfully. "Mom, breathe with me. Hold your breath - 1, 2, 3 - breathe out. Breath in - "
The teen focused on the sound of Friday's voice all while his eyes flitted over Tony, who stood there fidgeting and restless with the inability to do anything. After several long, long moments, the tunnel vision that had blurred his vision eased off, his breathing evening out, and he slumped forward, shoulders sagging. He let out a shaky breath before looking up into the worried blue eyes of the natural AI that was now Mr. Stark.
"Hell of an impression of the big bad wolf you have there, kid," he joked, but Peter could see the concern and franticness left in the way he moved, the tilt of his frown. "You okay?"
"Y-yeah," he said, the biggest lie of his life. "I'm okay. I'm fine, Mr. Stark, really. Sorry." He ducked his head again and saw Tony's glowing hand touch his face. He looked back up and the glow on his cheek was still there.
"You've got nothing to be sorry for, Pete," Mr. Stark said, softer than Peter can ever remember him being. "I didn't mean to overwhelm you. And don't tell me I didn't," he said sternly. "I''ve always been a little much," he admitted, backing up, giving Peter some much needed space if he wasn't going to start hyperfixating on the man's face. "I, uh, kinda forgot about needing to real it in."
"No!" Peter jumped in. "No, I don't want you to - to not be yourself with me. It was just," he shrugged, "like I knew, you know? I knew you'd - probably - done it for me. The whole saving the universe thing. Ms. Potts might've mentioned it, and I can put two and two together. It's just having it confirmed, I guess?"
"We'll come back to that thing about Pepper," Mr. Stark said, "but I'm glad you at least had an idea." The older man sighed in a way that was so incredibly human it was hard to think he was only a culmination of data and leaps in logic. "You deserve to know how much you meant to me, Pete. I hung up the whole superhero gig after what Thanos did to you - to everyone. But the moment that Scott Lang came to my house saying there was a way to fix it?" He rolled his eyes to the sky and continued, lost in memory. "There was no way I was going to do anything but try."
"You might've done it for me, Mr. Stark," Peter said, getting the man's attention again. They locked eyes, blue meeting brown. "But you are a good man. I think even if you didn't have me to like push you to do it, you still would've found a way to help."
A wry smile crossed the billionaire's face. "You have too much faith in me, Pete."
"Nah," Peter grinned back. "I've got exactly the right amount."
They stayed there grinning at each other like idiots for a minute before Mr. Stark broke the silence.
"Now tell me, kid," he said, shoulders relaxing, leaning back on his table again. "Why on earth is Friday calling you Mom?"
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glitcheslikeslego · 7 months ago
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Show Me Your Moves! (Chapter 12)
AO3 STORY
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Chapter 12 : Teleport
Teleport, if used by a wild Pokemon, allows it to successfully run away from battle. If used by a Pokemon in your own party, the Pokemon will switch out with another, and will fail if the teleporting Pokemon is the only battling Pokemon left.
Your eye twitched as you walked into the street market in search of something Sandy sent you to get. 
Curse you and your bad luck. 
And now you somehow ended up following Pigsy and Tang through the marketplace. You had stumbled into the two ( curse you back luck!) and after you let it slip that you’ve never been to the market before, the two kindly decided to show you around. 
And it was at this point that your feeling of dread from your sleepover came back full force as you realised you were becoming less of a background character and more like a supporting character. 
Wonderful.
You spent most of the time zoning out, because by this point, Pigsy was just dragging you and Tang around analysing carrots in excruciating detail. 
You spent the next while like that until you came across a very broken down stall. 
Spider Queen. 
You sneakily manage to dip back into the crowd, neither of them noticing that you had disappeared. 
You left the marketplace with the things you had gotten, but your list wasn’t done. 
Saving Pigsy and Tang is more important!
 
 
 
“Sandy! Guys!” You barged into the Sea-Crate base, something Sandy had shown you just in case something bad happened. 
The three all yelled in shock, seeing you so frazzled. Sandy walks over to you worriedly. “Woah, are you okay?”
“This isn’t about me! Pigsy and Tang are in danger!”
“I knew it!” MK shouted as Mei pulled up the camera footage to replay it. 
It showed Pigsy and Tang talking with and following after the Spider Queen, then them falling into the trap she made, then the screens went static. 
“Uh, Spider Demon!? Come on. No. Ew, yuck, I hate spiders! Hate, hate, hate! With their eyes and feet and furry butts!” MK whined fearfully. 
Ah, you forgot about his arachnophobia…
You sigh. “What do we do now?”
“Only one thing to do! It’s time for Operation Rescue!” Mei declared in determination.
“Operation: Rescue Pigsy and Tang from the nightmare hole!” You laughed before trying to follow after the group, but Mei stopped you.
“Nope! Sorry bestie, but you’ve been too stressed out! So leave this mission to us!” She said.
You pouted, but relented. The only person who knew about your weirdo powers was Sandy, and no one else.
You stayed back, watching as Sandy’s water friendly adventure boat drove off. Now that you thought about it… you’re actually rather thankful you aren't there if Mei really drives it through the city.
But you still wanted to help! Kind of…
You didn’t know why, but you guessed that the HeroicTendencies™ of this world is finally getting to you. Crossing your arms and pouting, you go to sit down, only to just fall butt first onto the floor.
But not butt first onto the metal floor of the sea crate base…
You fall butt first onto stone, and you open your eyes to find yourself surrounded by jagged stones and large webs.
Spider Queen’s base…
HOW THE FU–!
~~~
<PREV ~ NEXT>
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