#Egon Eis

[movie-titlecards]

Face of the Frog (1959)

My rating: 6/10

[tesseractrave]

I wasn't originally going to post this, but my friend said, "post it, no balls," so now I have to. 😔

Did anyone else notice that S1E3 had a different art style than the others? I sent this screenshot to a friend and received the prompt response of "please give him brown contacts I'm literally shaking", so I laughed and put it into my photo editor to do that for the joke, but then I just... kept going. So now we have Harold Ramis's Egon Spengler in The Real Ghostbusters! Oops... maybe I'll do the other characters to finish the set. All because of Egon's blue-eyed stare. 😭 Sorry, RGB Egon, I promise I love you.

[eebydeebyderby]

Are You Ready?

A one-shot in which Reader tends to a badly-injured Egon Spengler in the firehouse during a blizzard lockdown.

General info:

Female reader insert, Hurt/comfort, Egon Spengler whump, friends to lovers, angst with a happy ending

~4.0k word count

Content Warnings:

Blood, description of injuries (he'll be fine, I swear)

The world is frozen over. 

The city is in complete lockdown as the blizzard rages outside, the worst storm since the ten-day ice freeze of 1931. It was quite sudden, with the city only getting three hours of notice as the eye of the storm approached from the Atlantic. There was quite a frantic scramble outside as people scurried around to secure spots, with sirens and car horns and chatter echoing through the city. But, the only noises coming from outside now are the deafening howls of the blizzard. Emergency services will be completely unavailable for the next twelve hours until the worst of the storm passes, and rolling blackouts are expected throughout the city’s power grid. 

Egon sits cozy in his lab, where the sounds of the storm are only a faint whisper. He has the entirety of the firehouse to himself, a rare luxury that he’s eagerly enjoying. It isn’t that he dislikes his coworkers—far from it, he’s quite fond of everyone—but, for the most part, solitude is his preferred state. He doesn’t have to worry about entertaining anyone, doesn’t have to worry about carefully treading around delicate social customs that he so-often blunders through. 

He hears footsteps descending towards the lab and he's immediately annoyed. He was looking forward to his night of solitude and now that was ruined.

“Egon?” a voice calls out. “Are you down here?” 

Oh. It's you. 

Immediately his annoyance fades, replaced by a nervous excitement that bubbles in his chest. “Yes. I'm down here.” 

You trot down into the lab, fresh-eyed and brightly awake, despite the late hour. He can't help but smile a bit at the sight of you, so charming and lovely with a blanket tossed around your shoulders, your arms full of old, tattered textbooks and notebooks. “I didn't know there was a lockdown,” you say sheepishly. “I was napping upstairs with my walkman and I guess I missed all the storm alerts. Is it alright if I work down here for a bit? I hate the idea of being alone upstairs during the storm. It's spooky, you know? All that wind rattling the windows. I know you were probably wanting to be alone, and that you don't really like people just barging in here, and you probably stayed so you'd be alone, but…” 

You trail off, and he sees the nervousness on your face, the fear that he'll reject your presence like he’s done countless times with other people. But, he's never kicked you out. Never you. Still though, you're hesitant. “You're always a guest I look forward to having. I want you to make yourself comfortable and stay as long as you'd like.” 

You smile, and he sees your nervousness relax. “You know, I'm glad it's you I'm here with. I really like spending time with you.” 

His heart flutters in his chest and he can't help but preen. “Likewise,” he says simply, hoping the heat burning in his face isn't too noticeable.

You settle in nicely at one of his spare desks and get to work. He returns to his own tasks, but can’t help but occasionally glance at you. You're sitting at the edge of your seat, lightly bouncing your knee and deeply concentrating on your work, silently mouthing words under your breath as you pore over the ancient texts. Brittle pages and old books are scattered around, with one heavy textbook even open in your lap as you scribble in a notebook, jotting down the spiritual intonations of civilizations long dead. He loves you. You’re radiant and splendid and wonderful and delightful and he loves you. He's loved you for quite some time. 

You catch his eye and for a split moment he's absolutely mortified that you caught him staring. But you just smile warmly at him, melting the icy pit formed in his chest, and he can't help but give you a half smile in return. You put your pen down and turn to face him. "What are you working on?" 

"I'm resetting the trap I set next to the sweets drawer and changing out the bait." 

"Did you finally catch that rat?"

"No. I caught Venkman." 

You scoff and shake your head a bit in disbelief. 

"I blame myself a bit. In hindsight, I should not use one of his favorite treats as bait. I apologized and offered to buy him lunch tomorrow. Overall, however, he was a very good sport about it.”

You cock an eyebrow, and there's a glint of mischief in your eyes that is so endearing to him. "Peter reached his grubby Peter fingers into a trap and expected not to be…trapped?"

He nods. 

“What happened next?” 

"Ray took him to get it stitched up," he says, raising his coffee mug to his lips. 

"Really? The veterinarian was open that late?"

He snorts into his coffee, spilling it down his chin, and you laugh. He catches your eye and can't help but smile as he wipes his mouth on the back of his lab coat sleeve. Your laughter is in no way derisive and adds a lovely glow to your face, and it's a delightful sight for him to take in. Then, he notices it again, like he's done countless times before: there’s a melancholy about you.

Beneath the sweetness of your smile, the brightness that flashes in your eyes when you laugh, he always catches a fleeting glimpse of something. Something he can never quite place, something he can never string into coherent words. He’s barely able to notice it before it fades away from sight, disappears beneath the depths in your eyes. He can’t see it anymore, but he knows it’s there. It's always been there, since the day he met you. He often imagines himself wrestling it to the surface, grappling it until he's able to free you from its grip entirely. 

             He shakes his head a bit. A stupid thought. He's almost embarrassed at the absurdity of it. 

The lab falls back into silence. He returns to his tasks, and you return to yours. 

“Egon?” 

The sound of his name in your voice is so lovely and sweet, it almost sends shivers down his spine. “Yes?”

“If it's not too much of an inconvenience, could I borrow your copy of Tobin’s Spiritual Guide?”

“Of course. It's no inconvenience at all.” He makes his way over to the huge bookcase that lines the entirety of the walls on both sides of the old fireplace and slides the ladder over to the proper section. He climbs a few feet up to the shelf labeled “Spiritual Entities, Cryptids, and Other Beasts” and starts scanning through the titles of the books when the rung of the ladder he’s standing on snaps beneath him. 

A jolt of panic shoots down his spine as he tries and fails to find footing; the sharp metal of the broken rung tears deeply through the side of his thigh as he falls and he hits the ground with a harsh “Oomph!” The broken ladder clatters next to him on the ground, dripping and spattering blood off its broken rung. He gasps. “Shit!” he hisses under his breath. His hands grasp his thigh and hot blood spills between his fingers, soaking through his pants and pooling onto the floor. The pain hits him all at once, tearing the breath from his lungs—a stabbing, searing, sickening pain that splinters viscerally through his entire leg. He cries out a bit at the fresh waves of pain that course through him like venom with each heartbeat that sends blood gushing between his fingers. The back of his head bumps the ground and he squeezes his eyes shut, his breathing grows rapid and shallow as the room spins around him. He's light-headed. He's dizzy. He's nauseous. He's going to pass out—

“Egon, move your hands.” 

Your voice is surprisingly smooth and calm next to him, and it tethers him back from complete panic. You’re kneeling next to him, the large first-aid kit open on the ground next to you. He complies and you slip a tourniquet under his leg. He groans and grits his teeth, unable to suppress the whine that escapes his lips as you tighten the tourniquet around his thigh as much as you can. 

“Sorry, sorry,” you sputter. He sees the split moment of panic on your face when you feel his blood on your hands, hot and viscous, wrong and horrifying, but you quickly reel it back. The bleeding almost instantly slows down to an ooze, but it aches terribly. 

“Don't cover it up yet,” he says quickly, seeing the pads of gauze in your hand. He props himself up on his elbows, trying to will his heart to stop beating so rapidly. “I need to see how bad it is.” You wordlessly hand him the scissors from the first-aid kit and he deftly cuts off his bloodied pant leg just below the tourniquet. He hears you gasp and he needs to suppress his own as he sees the extent of it. The deep wound flays him nearly to the bone on the outside of his thigh, extending more than a foot long. “Shit.” He lays his head back on the ground, nervousness coiling around his throat. It's bad. It's undoubtedly very, very bad. And it fucking hurts. 

Your voice is quiet when you're able to finally summon it. “What do you say we do?”  

“It needs to be cauterized.” 

“Isn't cautery outdated? Shouldn't we just keep the tourniquet and wrap it up?”

“Emergency services will be unavailable for at least ten hours, and the tourniquet will have me septic in less than six hours, but I'll bleed to death without it. Dressing alone won't adequately stop the bleeding, stitches are too shallow.”

“Alright. I trust your judgment. What am I supposed to use for the cautery tool? 

“I have a battery-operated welding blade in the drawer at the welding table.”

You wince and swallow, hard, looking down at your hands covered in his blood, already beginning to dry and crack on your palms. “Okay, okay. I'm gonna wash my hands real quick and come back. Then just tell me what to do from there.” 

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“ ‘Sterile non-stick gauze. Lidocaine 5% mucoadhesive wet dressing. Sterile sodium chloride saline 0.9% solution. Isopropyl alcohol 99%,’ ” you mutter under your breath, reading the labels of the various tools you pull out of the first-aid kit. “My reluctance kind of comes from the fact that I…really, really like you,” you say as you scrub your hands down with rubbing alcohol. “If you were Venkman then I’d be delighted at the chance to stick a blade in your leg.” You set the bottle of alcohol on the floor. “Okay, just running this through real quick one last time: first I rinse with saline, then I do the cautery, then I put the wet dressing, then the dry dressing.”

He nods. 

You close your eyes and take a deep breath. “Okay.” You slowly exhale. “Okay. Step one: saline rinse.” You crack open the bottle and hold it over his leg. “Are you ready?”

He nods, a knot forming in his stomach.

“Okay.” 

He involuntarily sucks in a sharp breath and squeezes his eyes shut as an icy chill washes over his leg, immediately followed by a fiery sting that courses through his leg like venom. It's bitingly cold and freezes him to the bone, but it also burns so, so badly. He grits his teeth but a slight groan still escapes his lips, followed by a strangled whine. He's immediately ashamed and clenches his jaw so much that it aches, focusing all of his energy on staying quiet. His heart pounds rapidly in his chest, sweat forming on his brow. 

“Sorry, sorry. Okay, that's done.”

He sharply exhales the breath he didn't know he was holding in and he struggles to pull enough air into his burning lungs with shallow, rapid panting.

“Hey, Egon?” Your hand slips into his and his heart flutters in his chest. “Hey, you're doing good. You're going to be alright.” Your voice is so soothing that he wants to believe you. His eyes are still shut, but he nods. 

“Next is this.” You pour rubbing alcohol all over the welding blade in an attempt to disinfect it. The harsh, acrid fumes sting the inside of his nose and burn the back of his throat as it splashes on the ground next to him. “This is insane. This is absolutely insane,” you mutter rapidly under your breath. “I feel like I’m torturing you.” 

“You’re not.” He tries to sound confident, but his voice is strained and shaking. “Don’t feel guilty.”

“I’ll do my best. How long should I keep this thing on your leg?” 

“A minimum of ten seconds, no matter how badly I react. Anything less would not adequately stop the bleeding.” 

“No matter how badly you react,” you repeat under your breath. “Fuck, dude…” You shut your eyes and for a moment you look like you're about to cry, but you manage to force it back down and open your eyes to reveal a frightened, brittle resolve. You switch on the welder and the little old machine sputters to life. He hears the crackling of the heating element and a sickening shiver runs through him, settling heavily in his stomach as a nauseating dread. The dark gray blade glows a faint red and yellow with the heat burning through it. “It’ll be over soon. Just ten seconds.” You sigh, and he sees your brow furrow as you steel your nerves, forcing yourself into a state of strained calmness. “Are you ready?”

No. He's terrified. He's in pain. His composure is failing and he doesn't want you to see him completely fall apart. “Yes.”

“Okay.” You hold up the makeshift cautery blade and take aim, putting your other hand and knee on his upper thigh to keep him still. “Now.” You plunge the blade into his leg. 

He screams. 

His entire body convulses but you keep his leg pinned firmly beneath your knee. The pain is blinding and searing and overwhelming and he screams until his throat seizes and he's desperately choking for air. His vision blanks and he's nearly on the verge of passing out when—

It's over. 

You pull the blade away and his entire body goes limp. His head is spinning and his chest burns. Tears run down the sides of his face and he’s gasping and panting between sobs, unable to catch his breath. He cries out again with the icy jolt that shoots up his leg when your shaking hands press the wet compress to the freshly cauterized wound. He tries and fails to steady his breathing, fails to stop openly sobbing as you wrap the dry dressing around his thigh and remove the tourniquet. 

He's ashamed that you're seeing him cry. Egon Spengler, a man who prides himself on prioritizing rationality over emotions, is reduced to a sobbing, quivering mess in front of the woman he's in love with, his clothing and the floor beneath him soiled by a sickening mixture of saline and his own blood. His face burns with embarrassment. How pathetic he must look to you, the facade of the level headed scientist shattered. Frustration boils within him and tightens within his chest. 

Oh. Your hand grazes the side of his face, and his attention snaps to you. Your touch is warm, gentle, and so, so soothing. You're talking to him. You've been talking to him this whole time, but it's only now that his scrambled mind is able to actually notice it. 

“Hey, it's okay. It's okay,” you whisper to him, stroking his sweating, clammy face. “It's over. You're gonna be okay.” Your other hand slips into his and he weakly grasps your hand in return. You continue talking to him for several minutes, gently stroking his face and occasionally squeezing his hand as tears flow down his face. There's sincerity in your gestures of comfort, a deep genuineness that can only be made through love. Still, though, he can't stop crying, but he's no longer self-conscious about doing so in front of you. 

Eventually, his breathing begins steadying a bit and his heart stops beating so wildly in his chest. The lidocaine dressing starts taking the edge off the pain, leaving behind a dull, painful ache that throbs through his entire leg. It still hurts terribly, but it is far from overwhelming. 

A headache starts to settle heavily behind his eyes. His entire body shivers violently despite the heat burning through him. Nausea curdles in his stomach. He squeezes his eyes shut but it isn't enough; the lights still ache deeply and seem to tunnel through his head.

You gently lift his head and put a damp rag on the back of his neck. He gasps at the chill that shoots down his spine, but the relief it brings is almost instant. His nausea wanes; the painful throbbing of his head begins to dull as you delicately lift his glasses off his face and set them safely aside. You place another damp rag on his forehead and he's grateful that you cover his eyes, completely blocking out the light. 

You're tossing the blanket you brought down earlier over him when the lights go out, leaving the two of you in complete darkness. The coffee maker stops gurgling, the heater stops rumbling, and the lab is left in near complete silence, the only noises coming from the raging storm howling faintly outside. “Crap…” You rummage through the first-aid kit for a flashlight. “Egon, I’ll be right back. Try to get some rest.” 

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“Egon. Egon.” You gently nudge his shoulder, rousing him from his heavy doze.

He groans and grits his teeth with the dull agony that settled in his leg as he slept, heavy and stiff; his hands instinctively grasp his thigh in a futile attempt to try and relieve some of the pain.

“I know, I'm sorry, but your temperature’s spiking a bit and I need you to take some ibuprofen to try and get it down. I also found a couple Vicodin in Peter's things that I think you'll appreciate.”

He takes the small handful of pills and voraciously downs both water bottles you offer him. 

He's bundled up under several blankets, warm and cozy, despite the discomfort of the hard floor beneath him. The fireplace crackles and spits as the only light source in the lab, animating the shadows of the objects it illuminates in its soft, hot glow. “Power's still out. Pipes are frozen,” you say, rising to your feet. His eyes follow you as you toss another hunk of wood into the fireplace, sending a pleasant wave of heat over him. “But we're doing alright.” You glance at him. “You’re starting to look a bit better.”

“Where did you find wood for the fireplace?” he asks.

“I can't tell you. Also, Peter's nightstand is now missing.” 

He snickers. The pain in his leg has already started lifting, replaced by a faint, floaty feeling. “Of all the places to grievously injure myself, next to the fireplace is a lucky break.” 

You look at him intently, and there isn't a hint of humor on your face. 

“Sorry,” he says just a bit too quickly, his face practically steaming with embarrassment. He clears his throat and scrambles a bit for a change of topic. “I really admire you—especially in the way you handle yourself in an emergency. I admire a lot of things about you.” 

You scoff. “I see the Vicodin is kicking in.”

“If anything, I think my mental faculties are more perspicuous with the hydrocodone. The distraction of the pain is much less pronounced.” He slowly pulls himself into a sitting position, wincing a bit, but the pain is just a fraction of what it was, throbbing dully deep in his leg. “Though, I must say that our recent experiences together have also given me a greater sentiment of closeness to you. I feel safe with you. I’m sure part of this mentality is just the narcotic inhibiting my usual reticence, but for the most part, I believe it’s authentic.”

“Egon.” 

You kneel next to him, and he has trouble seeing your face in the harsh shadows cast by the crackling fireplace. One of his old coats is draped around your shoulders and it’s far too large on you, which he finds so, so endearing. A burst of affection washes over him, bubbles in his chest and brings warmth to his face. The urge to kiss you is overwhelming, almost primal. He catches your eye and leans forward. 

You read his intentions and pull back. You gently place your hand on his chest, nudging him back a bit. “Look, I'm not sur--” 

“Please, I want to kiss you.”

“Egon.”

“I love you. I’m in love with you,” he blurts. “I've been in love with you f—”

“Stop! Stop it! Stop talking!” That melancholy about you suddenly rushes to the surface and bursts forth as tears in your eyes and you clench your jaw, bite the inside of your cheek, but the tears flow freely down your face. You sigh, annoyed, and avert your gaze, impatiently wiping your eyes on your sleeve. “Look, Egon, this is not a conversation I'm ready to have right now. I am so fucking overwhelmed as it is, okay? I just…Fuck, don’t do this to me now.” 

His heart sinks to the bottom of his stomach and he lies back on the ground. It’s not an outright rejection, far from it. But, it still aches deeply in his chest as you weep next to him, your head bent and your palm on your forehead.

“I'm sorry,” you say quietly, your voice thick with tears. “It’s just, it’s been a really bad night. If I hadn't asked you to grab me that stupid fucking book then none of this would have happened. And I have my own goddamn copy upstairs! I just didn't want to go grab it! And I almost killed you because of that!” You lift your head. “Seeing all that blood, hearing you scream like that…Oh my God, that was so awful. Oh, Egon, I'm so sorry…” You sigh, summoning all your courage for your next words. “I love you. I really do. I love you so much that it sometimes keeps me up at night.” He’s positively euphoric at hearing these words. His heart soars, but your next words send it plummeting back to the bottom of his stomach. “But, Egon, I feel so terrible about it.” A sob hitches in your throat and you struggle to keep your next words steady. “Look at this fucking mess we're in…”

He reaches for your hand. You see him, but don't protest as his fingers intertwine with yours. His other hand slowly reaches up and gently cups the side of your face. You lock eyes with him, and he sees the sorrow aching so deeply within you, your vision blurred by the tears flowing freely down your face. 

“I love you,” he says simply, delicately wiping a calloused thumb beneath your eye.

You shake your head. “How could you?” 

“How could I not?” he answers earnestly.

You crack a small smile. You press a kiss to the palm of his hand and hold it against your face, delighting in the warmth of his touch. He's absolutely exhilarated at this, and he smiles so brightly at you that you can't help but smile back, despite the fresh tears spilling from your eyes. He sees it now, the reason behind the melancholy about you:

You love him. 

You love him so deeply that it burns through the core of your very being. That love for him that would flash in your eyes every time you smiled at him, everytime the brightness of your laugh lit up your face, has now rushed to the surface and painfully burst forth as tears running down your face.

You bend down and plant a soft kiss on his forehead, still holding his hand in yours as you lie down next to him in front of the fireplace. 

[myveryownfanfiction]

18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI

tags: @illiana-mystery

warnings: swearing

AN: happy ghostbusters day!

I hummed happily when ray kissed my head. I rolled over and wrapped my arms around his neck. Ray chuckled before kissing me softly.

“I’m sorry I woke you.” He whispered. I ran my fingers through his hair and shook my head.

“Don’t be.” I mumbled, sleepily nuzzling into him. “I’m glad you’re home.” Ray hugged me tightly as he climbed into bed. “What was it anyway? Why didn’t you want me to go?”

“Gozer.” Ray said, waking me up.

“what?” I asked, sitting up. Ray nodded. “Gozer?!” He nodded again. “Please tell me that it’s finally taken care of.”

“yeah. Gone for good this time.” Ray confirmed.

“and the traveler?” I asked, fingers curling into his shirt. He didn’t say anything. “Raymond, tell me there wasn’t…”

“it was one time and i panicked and i thought it was going to be…not that bad.” Ray said. I rolled my eyes.

“not what I meant.” I said. “Was there a traveler?”

“not this time.” Ray said, kissing my forehead. I gave him a look. “I’m serious. There was no traveler this time.” I nodded and curled up against him.

“I’m glad you’re home. And safe.” I said, starting to drift off. Ray kissed my head again. The next morning, I got up and went to make coffee while ray slept in. He’d gotten in late and I didn’t want to force him up if I didn’t have to. I grabbed my cup and poured the coffee. I turned around to grab something from the fridge when I heard something behind me. I turned back to my cup and screamed. There was what looking like a miniature sized stay puft marshmallow man in my cup. It flipped over and waved at me before it started melting. I screamed again and scrambled back from the counter.

“what?” Ray asked as he came running into the room. “What’s wrong? Is it slimer again?” I shook my head and pointed at my cup, where a semi melted stay puft was still floating. “Oh.” Ray muttered, turning around to look at me with a sheepish look.

“Raymond!” I cried. “What the fuck is that? Why is there a tiny stay puft…” I noticed another one toddling along the windowsill. “Tiny stay pufts…” I stared at them wide eyed before looking at ray again. “Raymond Francis stantz!” I yelled. “For fucks sake! What did you do? I thought you said there wasn’t a traveler!”

“there wasn’t.” He shrugged. I opened my mouth but no sound came out. “There wasn’t. I don’t know what these are. They just kind of started happening.”

“But…it’s not…you can’t keep them ray!” I seethed. His face fell and I felt bad for a second.

“why not?” He asked, clearly upset. I ran a hand down my face.

“because we don’t know what they are or where they came from. Or what they can do.” I sighed. Ray turned back to the small group walking around our counter.

“right.” He perked up. “And we never will until I study them!”

“ray, no.” I said. “Sweetie no. You can’t…” ray stepped towards me and put his hands on my arms.

“just think…”

“no…”

“what it could mean…”

“It’s dangerous…”

“just a couple days…”

“you’re not egon.” I sighed. His face fell. “Ray I know you want to find the answer to everything. But you can’t. And that’s the beauty of our work. It’s ever changing and elusive. But this…” I waved a hand towards the marshmallows currently doing the Conga. “It’s dangerous ray.” I put my hands on his chest as he sighed. “Ray…wait a minute. What were you going to do with them after you finished your research?” I narrowed my eyes at him as ray tried to step back. I held onto his shirt and tugged him back. “Raymond.”

“well uh.” He started. I let my head fall against his shoulder.

“You were going to keep them as pets weren’t you?” I sighed. Ray stayed quiet above me. “Raymond.” I groaned. Ray wrapped his arms around me and rubbed my back. “For fucks sale ray!” I pulled back and ray grimaced.

“I mean they are pretty stupid.” He said, trying his best to look hopeful. “It’s not like they’re going to be much of a problem. We just have to make sure they can’t get into anything dangerous.”

“fine. Fine.” I gave in. “But you take care of them. You keep them out of my coffee. And you keep them out of the bedroom.” I poked rays chest and glared at him. He laughed at me and cupped my cheeks.

“deal.” He agreed before kissing me. The sound of the garbage disposal turning on made me pull away.

“RAY!”

[shelbgrey]

Hello 👋

I was wondering if you would write something for ghostbusters Peter venkman with 2 and 4 from the prompts list?

I hope it’s ok, I’ve never requested before😖, I hope I requested correctly and it’s not weird.

Hope you have a wonderful day

When unspoken rules are broken(Peter Venkman)

Paring: Peter Venkman x Stantz!Reader

Summary: y/n is ray's little sister and is unspokenly off lemits to the other Ghostbusters, all the boys know it. Peter Venkman is well aware but he can't help but fall for her, even if they can't 'stand' each other.

Prompts:

0.2) “You are the reason that I'm still breathing”

0.4) “Why can’t I breathe whenever I think about you?”

A/n: yay, my first Ghostbusters story, I hope you like it. Send in more Ghostbusters request!

MasterList

It was an unspoken rule between the three boys that y/n Stantz was off lemits. She was Ray's little sister and just as smart as her brother and friends, she was also fearless and wasn't afraid to get up in a ghost's face. There's many reasons why the men of the group fell head over heals for her. They all at one point had a crush on her, well a side from Egon, so really it was only Winston and Peter with the crush. Winston got over it though and just realized how lucky he was to have her as a beast friend.

Around they're first years of colloge Peter Venkman started to fall for her. He was... To put it delicately, a man whore. He had away with the ladies and it annoyed her, she would be lying if she said she wanted nothing to do with him but he always had some girl on his arm, it's been like that all through out college.

What she didn't know is he had this obsession with her that he kept buried deep in the darkest part of his heart, and it was all for Ray's sake. Him and Egon both knew how important y/n to Ray and Peter never really thought about what his feelings for y/n would do to his friendship with her brother, he didn't start thinking about it until Egon brought it up. Her and Egon had been best friends for as long as the group could remember, one time their friendship was confused for being something more and that's when the unspoken rule was born.

“it wouldn't be wise to be in a relationship with Raymond's sister, especially considering how close we all are...just imagine the rage he'd feel if he found out about one of us feeling inappropriate things for her” Egon once said.

He regrets it, but the only way Peter could deal with the feels he was advised to keep bottled up, was to always tease her and get into small arguments with her. And for awhile it worked, but when the Ghostbusters was formed and Winston was told about the unspoken rule, it's started to get harder and harder to keep his feelings locked up like one of their ghosts.

~~~~~~~~(.......)~~~~~~~~

“easy case... Probably Slimer again” Ray told us as we walked into the fancy hotel. I nodded and quickly switched on Egon's proton pack for him and he did the same for me and Winston.

“we should split up” Egon said, Winston nodded and went up the first flight of stairs with him.

“I'll go this way” Ray said, I usually went with my brother but when I tried to follow Peter stoped me. “let's go together this time”

I raised an eyebrow as he simply shrugged and led the way. It was unusual for him, usually he'd wave me off or have some kinda smart-ass comment. I would be lying if I said I wasn't thrilled, I kept my cool and follow the blue-eyed ghostbuster.

We went down a couple of hallways in silence, it wasn't awkward like expected instead it was kinda nice. But the peaceful silence was ruined by the sounds of munching and slobbering, Slimer was a nasty eater. We don't really know why he never put him in the volt, he was never really a danger to the town so we captured him and he'd find his way out and leave a few days later.

“Ew, look” I said to Peter as we turned the corner, he looked up and saw the green, slimy ghost stuffing his face like crazy. Peter slowly held up his walkie-talkie and called for my brother.

“did ya find him?” Ray said on our walkies.

“We’re looking at it right now”

The ghost, Slimer charged towards us, Peter screamed and pulled my body infront of him, I flinched but didn't feel any pain…just slimy and grosse. I quickly backed up and gave Peter a dirty look. “Really?”

His lips went straight and he held his hands up but refused to touch my slime cover body. I didn’t want to move a muscle, everytime i did it just felt squishy and gross. I’m gonna kill him one of these days.

“Damit Slimer” I sighed and wiped my eyes carefully.

“Peter, sis, Where did he go?” Ray came running towards us, he went to place his hand on my shoulder but immediately flinched back when he saw my condition. “Ew”

“I have slime in places slime shouldn't be” I grumbled. Peter let out a chuckle and quickly hid it behind his hand when I shot him a dirty look. “Hey, at least you got actual contact this time, he usually doesn't let us get this close”

“I’ll show you contact” I growled and reached to touch his face with my slime covered hand. He flinched back and tried to grab my wrist, he did but i just jumped forward and whipped my free hand across his face then his chest. Ray rolled his eyes and pulled me away by my proton pack.

“Will you calm down? We have a job to do” Ray said, trying to hide his smile. I rolled my eyes. “Fine, I'm gonna help Egon”

At this point I didn't care about the wet, squishy feeling I felt every time I walked, I just wanted to get the job done so I could go home and get cleaned up. When I walked away I didn't see the sad look that fell across Peter’s face, he looked down and watched my figure walk down the hallway. Ray elbowed him when he noticed Peter looking a little too hard and a little too long.

~~~~~~~~(.......)~~~~~~~~

We got Slimer like usual, it didn't take to long which was nice. After we got take-out we headed home.

“I'm gonna take a shower” I grumbled setting my bag of Chinese food on the table. “stay out of my food Raymond” I yelled back into the kitchen as I left.

I quickly shedded my slime covered uniform by the lockers we kept them and grabed some fresh closes out of the drawers in the quarters we slept. With our home being an old firehouse our shower was an old tiled room with a bunch of shower heads and cubicles. Mine was on the far end, none of the boys used it and it was were I kept all my nicer products like body soap, conditioner, and other stuff.

The hot water felt nice on my achy muscle, caring a protonpack that was probably about 50 pounds maybe more will do a number on your back and shoulders. I don't know how we do it, especially Egon with how tall and lanky he is.

The once soothing shower soon turned frustrating after I soaped up and risned about three times and there was still slime. I sighed and just decided to stay under the water and soak for awhile, it's Peter's fault if the other boys have no hot water. After awhile the hot water did help and I was completely clean, I still smelled like death but there was a hint of lavander from my body wash.

I quickly drived off and put on the old flannel I stoll from Winston years ago, there's a peark to being so close to a group of guys, you get to steal there clothes and they won't complain. It might seem weird to new eyes, but that's how we live and we're comfortable like that, Hell Winston steals my peppermint body wash everytime it's in season.

I left the shower room and dried my hair off as walked into the erea where we slept. I hid my face in the towal to bask in it's warmth, I let fall off and I immediately jump.

“Jesus!” I placed my hand over my heart when I saw it was only Peter. He held his hands up in defense. “sorry, didn't mean to scare ya”

I smiled softly and threw my used towel in the laundry basket, as well as Egon's used slacks and Winston's flannels. The boys weren't very tidy at all.

“we have a laundry basket?” Peter said looking at the pile of laundry that was at the bottom of his part of the closet. I chuckled and set at the foot of my bed, I grabed my brush and untangled my hair as the room fell silent. It felt weird to be alone with Peter, it was a rare thing.

“I'm sorry about the slime thing” he spoke roughly, he cleared his throat and turned to me. I shrugged and saw his eyes held nothing but the truth he spoke.

“it's no big deal, it happens to all of us” I said, trying to drop the subject. Peter wasn't gonna budge though.

“it's not okay” he quickly said, I was suprised at his sudden out burst. I looked up and saw his walls slowly breaking down. “Peter...”

“I know how slime and ectoplasm irritates your skin” he said softly and nodded towrds the light tent of red that masked my arms and hands. It was nothing to worry about, I'll just be scratching everywhere for a couple of days.

The more he panicked and paced, the more confusing the whole situation was, since college he's done nothing but teas me and start arguments. It wasn't harmful to either on of us, but it was so weird to see his softer side.

“it doesn't matter Peter” I stated fermly, Hell I've always liked him but he can't just turn on a dime like this.

“then.. Why can’t I breathe whenever I think about you?”

I looked at him with wide eyes, did he really just say that. Did this mean he's always liked me... Or was I just an easy lay... Another notch in his headboard. I looked into his blue eyes and didn't see lust or anything un- innocent, just love. What he was saying was genuine.

“you don't relize how much I care about you... Do you?” he asked setting down next to me.

I don't know what possessed me but I turned to him and planted a quick kiss on his lips. Peter's eyes widened and slightly pulled back. I gulped feeling I made a big mistake.

“I'm sor-” I was cut off as his hand cupped the back of my neck pulling me closer. Our lips coiled in feverish kiss.

I grabed the collar of his shirt and pulled him closer as our lips locked. His hands fell and grip my waist, our eyes locked as I move my hands to the back of his neck, running my fingers though his hair. His hands moved the the back of my neck pushing his lips harder to mine. His toung gently touched my bottom lip asking for entrance. I granted him entrance as my hands slid down his chest.

“Wait” he sighs lowly, grabbing a hold of my hands before they are able to unbuckle his belt. I planted one last kiss to his lips and he slowly pulled away with fear in his eyes, the once cocky lady's man was gone. “we shouldn't do this”

I gave him a confused look and he continued with nervousness. “your Ray's little sister, your basically forbidden fruit” he quickly said, I scoffed and moved out of his arms, after all that and he still can't get off his high horse.

“y/n...” he started, stoped and turned around “I'm sorry” he whispered, I looked at him and his face drop. I'd never seen him so remorseful and I almost believed him. I opened my mouth to speak, but the alarm went off telling us we had a case... The second one of the night. I heard Ray and Winston groaned from upstairs.

“let's just work the damn case” I said left the bedroom and jogged to the fire pole. I slid down it and that point I couldn't even think about how much it scared me to go down it, no matter how many times I did it.

“what do we got?” I asked quickly taking off Winston's my flannel so I was in my tanktop. My locker was next to Egon's so I quickly moved next to him and got one of my clean uniforms on.

“some rich boy mansion, ghost haunting it” Ray said. I chuckled, trying shead some light on my evening. “the usual”

“you got that right” Winston chuckled then looked up the firepole as Peter slid down. “Pete hurry up!”

~~~~~~~~(.......)~~~~~~~~

As I walked around the abandoned pool, the EMF reader starred going off like crazy. “hey guys, I think I got something” I said through the walkie-talkie.

“hang on, I'll head your way” Egon said through the walkie.

I knlet infront of the pool and studyed it. It was decent size, covered in moss, mold, and slime. I'm pretty sure it would be considered gray water by now. No way I'm taking a dip in this freaking pool.

I scanned it one last time then set the meter down to get a sample for Egon. I got the slime infested water in the container and put in my pocket. I sighed at how quite it was, between Egon's on going experiments and Peter's strange behavior the quite was nice.

I couldn’t even see my reflection in the merky water. “N/n, we're on our way hang tight” Winston said through the walkie-talkie.

“Roger that” I said softly, I shook my head and stood up to wait for the boys. When left for the door the pool started to bubble, I quickly stepped back when steam and hissing started the leave the area.

“Boys!” I ran towrds the door but didn't get to far, I felt my feet get swept from underneath me. Between the protonpack on my back and the broken bricks I fell on, all I felt was pain. I looked over my shoulder and saw a dark blue slime wrapped around my ankle, pulling me towrds the pool.

“RAYMOND! PETER!” I shouted as I hung on to anything could, I couldn't even reach for my proton-gun in fear if I let go of the brick I'd get pulled under.

I was about to shout for my Boys again but this time no words came out. The slime grew to size bigger than me and leped over me like a blanket. And pulled me under, I tried to swim to the surface but I was pushed under and water and slime filled my lungs.

---( Peter's pov )---

I rolled my eyes when I saw a ghost the size of a small little girl peak around the conner then run off giggling like she was playing tag with me a Ray.

“creepy ghost kids... Seen it already” I replied, getting bored. Ray chuckled and charged up his proton pack while he went into the same direction as the ghost kid.

I started to make childish noises as I followed Ray but the painful screams coming out of our walkies made me stop. I knew her screams which made is so much worse.

“RAYMOND! PETER! HELP ME!”

me and Ray shared wide eyes glances then immediately ran to the pool room where she was at.

“somethings wrong with y/n” I hear Winston say on the walkie next. I ignored it and continued to run down the many halls of the mancain. I don't know how many doors and stair cases I passed, all I knew is nothing was gonna stop me from saving her.

“y/n!” I shouted to her and ran the last corner into the pool room.

My heart dropped when I saw her drowning, I threw my protonpack off and jumped in after her, Ray followed behind me quickly. The first time we tried to grabed her the ghost jerked her away. I pushed my self towrds the deep end where it took her and quickly grabed her hand.

She was small in stature but between the pack and the ghost tugging on her with all her might, I almost didn't have the strangth. Ray then came behind her and snapped off the straps with his pocket knife and pushed her towrds me. I put her limp arms on my neck and held her close to me as pulled to the surface.

“you son of a bitch” Winston growled. him and Egon shot their proton-streams at the ghost as I layed her on the ground.

“come on y/n” I said touching her cheek, she wasn't moving. I started to panic and started CPR, I've never done it in my life and only saw it in the movies. That made it so much more terrifying, what if I can't save her?

“come on, Baby... Don't leave me” I said pushing on her chest then quick connect our lips to give her air. I did the proses over and over, as I did I only panic more.

I let out a sigh of relief when she left out a painful cough. The rest of the boys sighed with relief as she started to breath. “thank god” I mumbled pulling her to my chest.

“your alright, I got you” I said, placing a kiss on her forehead. Ray nodded with tears in his eyes as he grabed her hand.

She only nodded then looked up at Winston and Egon, she smiled softly. “let's get out of here, we got the damn thing” Egon said while he pulled y/n soaked protonpack out of the pool.

“come on, let's get you home and wormed up” I said, picking up her chattering body. She nodded and snuggled closer to me for warmth.

~~~~~~~~(.......)~~~~~~~~

“all get the heater” Egon said quickly shutting Ecot-1 and running to the storage room, the rest of us ran to the bedroom and layed her chattering body on her bed.

“here” Ray said, wrapping a quilt around is both. She gripped my suit and pulled me closer for warmth, I rubbed her arms quickly trying to get some heat on her body. “relax, you'll be warm soon” I whispered.

She peaked her head from my chest and smiled when she saw Egon plug in the small heater we had. “I lost the sample from the p-pool, I'm sorry egon” she spoke softly.

I wanted to scoff, thst was the first thing she says since her almost-sudden-death? Egon smiled softly and shook his head. “don't worry about it, your life is more important”

He left and the others followed so she could rest. “I'll heat up your food and send it up to ya later” Ray said softly and padded Winston's shlulder signaling him to follow.

“thanks Ray” she said, once they left I grabed the quilt and got her to lie down on my chest. I pulled the quilt over the both of us as she snuggled into my chest.

I smiled at the feeling, I never experienced a feeling like this. It felt so nice to have her in my arms. “I love you, ya know?” I said softly as I ran my fingers throw her damp hair. “I don't care what anyone else says... I almost lost you tonight and I can't do that”

She looked up at me, man I loved her eyes. They were the prettiest tent of (e/c), so round and beautiful. She smiled softly at me, but her expression held a dash of uncertainty. I hated myself for causing that, I never wanted her to question her worth or how much someone I loved her.

“You are the reason that I'm still breathing” I said truthfully and it wasn't lying. I'll joke around and annoy my buddies to no end, but I'd never lie to her. She made my life worth living and I wake up every day happy I get to the greatest job in the world with her by my side.

She scooted up the bed so our faces were level and she placed her lips to mine, it was so soft and a bit chill from her time in that God awful ice bath. I didn't care how cold it was, I just felt so sweet to have her lips modeled perfectly with mine and this time there was no fear or uncertainty, just two people who finally woke up and realized they we're perfect for each other.

[wilders-girl]

I Collect Spores, Mold, and Fungus.

Egon Spengler x Fem!Reader

PG, fluff, but also angst. I am a sad person I cannot help myself

Mild cursing, Egon feels undeserving of reader's luv, bro cries, reader cries, everyone cries, mutual pining but they're painfully unaware

3,428 words

Not proofread bc I'm silly 🤯

This was 100% an impulse write and it was created from the hours of 12-2 AM for a fortnight. Not my best work but I am in love with this silly goofy fellow. Ray is there!!! And mentions of the other guys too! Hope u enjoy ♡

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

"So, what kind of hobbies do you have?" I meekly asked, watching Egon work from afar.

"I collect spores, mold, and fungus." He answered without skipping a beat.

I was startled at his quick answer, but responded soon enough that he wouldn't think I was judging him.

"That's quite interesting, actually." I spoke. "Do you have to take care of them like a houseplant, or something?"

Now it was his turn to look startled, glancing up at me for a moment before resuming his work.

"In a way, yes. I observe their progress as they grow and record differences between members of the same species and such."

He adjusted the dial on his microscope and changed the slide.

"Obviously, they're less demanding than a houseplant." He finished.

"I can understand that." I nodded.

"God, it seems like houseplants are allergic to tap water. Only the finest H2O for you, my liege!" I joked, shaking my head.

The corners of his mouth pulled up in a small smile, and I felt my heartbeat quicken at the sight.

A moment of silence passed before I spoke again.

"Fungi sound easier to take care of by a long shot. Do you have any favorite types?"

He paused his research and looked up at me, seemingly amazed again.

I had an apologetic expression and started to stand up from my awkward position on the couch.

"Sorry if I'm bothering you, I can go back upstairs if you'd like-."

"No!" He interjected, wide-eyed.

"Sorry. I just…" He trailed off for a second, analyzing the best way to say what he wanted to.

"I didn't expect you to actually be interested in my hobby." He spoke slowly, as if each word carried more meaning than at face value.

"I didn't think anyone cared."

"Oh, Spengs," I placed my hand on my chest. "I'm sorry. If it means anything, I'm not lying. I really do think it's interesting."

I felt a wave of sadness envelop me as I realized how he'd felt all this time. Reading between the lines, I knew what he really meant.

"I didn't think anyone cared about me."

He swallowed and locked eyes with me, his eyebrows furrowed in sincerity.

"Thank you."

His voice carried heavy emotion, very off-brand for the usually stoic scientist.

Snapping out of his trance, he got up from his desk himself and walked over to me.

"Would you like to see my favorite specimens?" His voice was quiet, very hesitant. Like if he spoke too loudly, I'd disappear.

I smiled up at him, and we made eye contact again.

"I'd love to."

I felt something change between us the moment we looked into each other’s eyes. He let his shoulders relax a little, he smiled a little wider than his typical smirk, and his gaze softened behind those thick glasses. The most insignificant changes meant so much for a man like him. I could tell, though, at that moment, that he trusted me. Somehow, this cold, unsociable man allowed me into his world, a heavily guarded fortress. All because I showed him a little bit of love. And he had no idea how much I had to give him.

After putting on sterile gloves, he carefully took a petri dish from the top rack, closest to the heat lamp, and showed me a funky looking pink fuzz.

"This," He began, a smug look appearing on his face, "Is one of my top three favorite specimens. This is fusarium oxysporum, a type of filamentous fungi that occurs most commonly as a soil-borne pathogen to many plants. This one's a tough specimen; it's survived nearly every experiment I've put it through."

I analyzed it in his hands, admiring the dark magenta color.

"Why is this one of your favorites?" I asked, looking back up at him.

He looked away in embarrassment.

"I like the color." He muttered.

I laughed softly at that.

"I expected a more scientific answer, Dr." I joked.

He sighed and looked for another specimen near the middle racks, and I laughed again at his shyness.

"Ah. There it is." He sported his signature half-smile.

He brought out a piece of a tree branch, and his eyes gleamed.

"This one is terana caerulea, also known as the velvet blue spread. It's a saprobic crust fungus commonly found on the underside of fallen trees in deciduous forests."

"I really like the texture of this one!" I looked at the specimen closely. "It really is like velvet."

"Mhm. This one was the most vivid sample I could find when Ray forced us to go camping upstate a few years back. As you can see, it's been doing pretty well, too."

I snickered at the thought of the boys, especially Egon, going camping. It just didn't sound real.

"And why is this one of your favorites, Dr?" I teased.

He looked down at me and smiled.

"I like the color."

I laughed again, missing the look of adoration he sent me as I did.

"Is it your favorite color?" I asked once I regained my composure.

Looking away quickly to hide the fact he was looking so intently at me, he nodded.

"I guess it is."

I kept that in the back of my mind. Just in case I needed that information someday.

He discarded his gloves, washed his hands and walked back over to his desk, and I followed, standing a polite distance from him. I needed to tell him something.

"Hey, Spengs?" I quietly asked.

He turned around and raised an eyebrow, leaning on the desk.

I fidgeted with the ring on my little finger.

"I really like talking to you, you know. I think you're great."

I paused, looking at the floor.

"I guess it's because you treat me like an equal. I guess more like an actual human being if we're comparing you to Venkman. But, like, I never feel stupid or out of place when I'm around you. It's the opposite, actually. I feel really comfortable around you. You make me really happy, Egon."

I smiled at the ground, feeling as though I'd just run a marathon. My face was terribly overheated, I could feel it. For a second, I regretted this random burst of confidence and wanted to crawl into a hole and rot so maybe he'd collect the fungus growing on my dead body.

I looked up at him for a quick second and saw him with furrowed brows and pursed lips. Tears were threatening to spill over his eyes as he looked away from me.

I automatically assumed the worst and let my arms hang limp at my sides in my shameful retreat upstairs. I did too much.

"Aw, Spengler, I'm sorry -"

I was cut off by the feeling of arms wrapping tightly around my torso in a hug before I could take a step away.

I was shocked. It took me a couple of seconds to realize what was going on and melt into the sensation.

He shook gently in my arms as silent sobs escaped him.

I closed my eyes and whispered sweet nothings to him while rubbing circles on his back. It probably looked a little awkward from an outsider's perspective since he was bent so far over my smaller frame, but I wouldn't have had it any other way.

For a moment, I tried to discard my feelings for him. I told myself he needed me as a friend at that moment, and blinked back a few tears of my own as I realized a friend was all he wanted me as, selfish as it was in that moment.

I tried to calm the fluttering in my heart as he held me even closer and let out a shaky sigh.

"I'm sorry, I should have asked -"

It was my turn to cut him off now.

"Hey, don't be sorry. You're alright. I'm here for you." I spoke softly in the crook of his neck.

He pulled away, to my dismay, and immediately looked at the ground, upset at himself.

"This is completely irrational of me, I'm truly very sorry." He mumbled.

I reached a hand out towards his, silently asking permission to hold it.

He hesitantly took my shaky hand in his cold one.

"I should be the one to apologize, Egon. I brought it up out of nowhere, and it was just weird of me to say. I'm sorry for making things weird. I just wanted you to know that you're appreciated, and I really do think you're worth my attention and time.

He whispered my name.

"You make me happy too." He was still looking down, but a bit of the sadness was erased from his eyes.

"Ever since I met you, you've brought me nothing but happiness in my life. Nobody really tries to understand me like you do. And…"

He slightly tightened his grip on my hand.

"I'm sorry if I ever make it seem like I don't value you. I'm aware that I don't express my emotions as clearly as other people, but I wish I was clearer with you. You are one of my favorite people. You mean a lot to me as a friend."

I felt my heart drop a little at those words, and I looked at the floor. I mentally cursed myself for focusing on the "friend" part, when it was obvious he needed me to be a friend and be there for him right now.

"You mean a lot to me in general." He paused.

"Maybe even beyond friendship." He spoke under his breath. If there had been any other noise, I wouldn't have heard him say it.

I snapped my head up to look at him in shock.

He took off his glasses and wiped away the remnants of his tears with the sleeve of his lab coat, breaking our hand-holding and eye contact.

I couldn't muster up the courage to say anything as he put his glasses back on and looked at me confused.

"Are you alright?" He said my name.

I still couldn't speak, and all I could do was look up at him. Maybe I was hearing things. Swallowing thickly, I broke our eye contact again.

"Shit." He muttered, quickly bringing a hand up over his mouth.

I looked back up at him to see his face creased in worry.

"Did I say that out loud?"

I felt my ears go hot and looked away while nodding.

He hissed a string of profanities and turned around to rummage through the drawers in his desk.

"I'm sorry," He shakily said my name, "I wasn't thinking straight. Please forgive me. It's unlike me to speak without thinking, God I'm an idiot!" He rambled, still looking through his drawers with a prominent redness in his cheeks.

"Did you mean it?" I whispered, effectively snapping him out of his quest.

He made eye contact with me, brows knotted, and opened his mouth like he was going to speak but decided against it. He began to scour the drawers again.

"There it is." He pulled out a small journal and clutched it tightly.

He stared intently down at it, eyes flitting to me occasionally as he spoke.

"I'm not very good at… conversing 'without a script', so to speak."

He cleared his throat.

"I, uh, figured it would be better for me to not… speak… when this situation came around."

He held his lips shut and handed the book towards me with a shaky hand. His eyes were still trained on the book, even though I was looking at him.

I hesitantly accepted the journal from him and looked at him to ask permission to read it. He nodded and leaned against the desk, picking at his fingers in anxiety as I opened it to the first page.

---

10/3

We hired a new worker today. She's going to assist Janine in taking calls. I overheard some of the interview walking upstairs to get food, and it seems she's more well-versed in paranormal studies than Janine. I might have to quiz her on that later.

10-27

After getting to know her a little better, I've decided she is worthy of entering my lab. I let her come down today to investigate, and she seemed quite intrigued by the happenings down here. I wonder what she found so fascinating. I couldn't ask her, I'm not sure why.

10-30

It's become increasingly more difficult for me to speak to her about personal affairs. I'm still unsure why. She's easy to get along with, and I seem to be able to converse with her just fine, but I freeze up when she does certain things.

11-2

I've noticed a pattern with the phenomena that triggers my inability to interact with her. I've found that it happens most when she smiles or laughs, gets close to me, makes physical contact with me, etc. The PKE didn't pick up any suspicious readings from her, so maybe there's something wrong with me. I'll run an experiment tomorrow.

11-3

The research shows I'm completely fine, but she still renders me speechless. After work today, she changed into a very flattering dress, saying that she was going out with her friend for drinks. It was, at face value, a regular dress. Though, somehow, it looked stunning on her. I didn't realize I was smiling until she pointed it out. I fear that I might have a different problem than I imagined.

11-15

My problem is most definitely not paranormal. It's biological. She was in the lab again today, helping me with my temperature-related differentiation study with the penicillium species. She comes down here on slow days when Janine tells her she can handle the work. When I moved to take the petri dish out of her hand, I accidentally brushed my fingers with hers and almost dropped the specimen. She was warm, but that wasn't what was alarming to me. I simply enjoyed the feeling. I enjoyed her presence, and I enjoyed her as a person in my life. I liked seeing her happy, and couldn't bear seeing her sad. I realized a simple truth at that moment: she made me happy and I wanted to make her happy too. Irrational it may seem, but she means the world to me.

11-22

I have come to a conclusion. How can I tell her without making a fool of myself? I fear it cannot be done. I can't say my feelings aloud to her. But I need to let her know how much she means to me.

11-23

I'm giving her this journal.

11-27

Since you've come this far in reading this, I want to tell you the facts, since it's easiest for me to think in a logical way. After running some studies on myself, i've come to some conclusions. When I make physical contact with you, my heartbeat quickens an average of 15%. After a prolonged interaction with you, I've recorded that the dopamine levels in my brain rise around 3 pg/ml. I find that when you're gone, I think about you around 2 times per minute; sometimes more, sometimes less. It's so comfortable for me to live in the analytical, logical world, but oftentimes you make me want to forget the science. You've made me feel things I just cannot explain. You have made me smile more than I have in years. I just feel happier with you, I don't know how to explain it. I have this irrational yearning for you. I want to see you happy, and I want to be the cause for your happiness. I want to be near you and see you at all times so I never forget how beautiful you are. I want to touch you, to be close to you so you can fill me with the warmth you bring in my heart. That, I can't explain. Therefore, logical or not, the signs point to one clear idea. I am in love with you. I felt you needed to know. I couldn't keep making excuses for my strange behavior. Thank you for reading this.

---

I closed the journal and felt a tear drip off my face. Wiping my eyes, I didn't realize I'd been crying until I felt the cold wetness against my fingertips. I sat there for a minute, collecting my thoughts and composure, and set the book down on Egon's desk.

Without a second thought, I leaned forward and wrapped my arms around him. This time, not bothering to be reserved with my emotions. I held him to me as tight as I could and felt euphoric by his reciprocal. I closed my eyes and let myself enjoy the feeling like I was on cloud nine.

Breathing in his scent one last time, I pulled away slightly and looked up at him. I probably looked like shit, but I didn’t care.

"I love you, too." I smiled.

He breathed out a sigh of relief and we went right back to our embrace.

I giggled, thinking about how nervous he was to not mess anything up. He was always so considerate of me. I didn't know why I never realized it. Then again, I guess he didn't realize it either.

He muttered my name, and I pulled away again to look at him, though I'd have stayed entwined with him forever if I could.

"Thank you." He smiled softly at me.

I reached for his hands and held them level with my shoulders as I leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek.

He blinked a couple times and looked away shyly, a rose tinge washing over his cheeks and ears. I could only giggle at how adorable he looked at that moment. I never wanted to stop kissing him.

He pulled away, still smiling, and shut off his machinery for the evening. I reached for the journal again and smiled, thinking of the unspoken words in there. I learned that he was not a man of few words, rather, he just didn't voice his thoughts aloud. What he did say aloud was always the most meaningful or efficient of his thoughts.

"It's late." He spoke softly, turning around to face me. "You should get some rest."

I rolled my eyes.

"And you shouldn't?"

"I can function on an hour of sleep, thank you very much." He teased.

"Tell you what, Dr. I'll sleep if you sleep." I raised my eyebrows in mock defiance.

"There's no way to hold each other accountable for that, you know. You could be lying and stay up another few hours."

I clicked my tongue and pointed at him.

"That's exactly what someone who isn't about to sleep would say."

He shook his head with a half-smile.

"What, do you plan to hold me accountable somehow? Make me pay if I don't follow your bidding?"

I cocked my head, pretending to think about it.

"Doesn't sound half bad, actually. Renowned scientist Egon Spengler groveling at the feet of a woman who wants him to sleep."

He laughed, the sound I love so much. Then, an idea popped into my head. I slowly let my grin grow like a Cheshire cat.

"What if I did hold you accountable?"

He narrowed his eyes on me in confusion.

"If you crash at my place, I'd know you aren't cheating."

His eyes widened, and he suddenly took off his glasses to inspect them so as to break our eye contact.

But he didn't refuse.

I slowly stepped closer to him and took the glasses out of his hands to make him look at me again.

"What do you say, Spengs?" I innocently batted my eyelashes at him.

He looked away and swallowed, clearly flustered.

"You can say no." I spoke in a more serious tone, handing him back his glasses.

He put them back on and looked down at me with a surprising amount of confidence in his eyes, demeanor, and voice.

"Deal." He muttered.

—

We left the station shortly after, quietly conversing on our way out. Ray was still working on the Ecto-1 and squinted up at us from the car. His eyes widened when they landed on our entwined hands, and the cigarette almost fell out of his mouth in a shocked expression.

Egon turned around briefly and gave him a look I couldn't figure out. Ray nodded in acceptance and went back to work, whispering a "good night, you two," probably not to wake Peter "Sleeping Beauty" Venkman upstairs. With a wave and a smile, we exited the premises.

He fell asleep first.

—

A/n: oh my days writing this HEALED me. I've been in a tough situation with someone irl for a couple months and it just killed any semblance of happiness I believed still lived in me. Like seriously I try to play it off bc I'm cool but it made me really sad. AND COMBINED W SCHOOL I JUST. seething. But I'm back!!! And fictional men are helping me regain my hope for humanity (and maybe men). Sorry for the long break, but I am back on my bullshit now 😈

[jocelynships]

Be My Girl?

I was originally gonna write more to this, but I like how it is now!

So, have some tooth rotting fluff with my S/I and Ray, and their first kiss 💚👻💚

Divider by @/enchanthings

Ray and Jocelyn fell into a comfortable silence on the way back to her apartment.

Jocelyn glanced over at him for a brief moment, taking note of his side profile, and how the street lights highlighted his mismatched eyes so beautifully. Her eyes lingered on his lips for a moment, feeling almost jealous of the cigarette perfectly balanced between them. They seemed so soft, and she wondered what it would be like to kiss him.

Now if she could just work up the courage to reach over and do so.

She looked away, trying to push her feelings back down.

Ever since the Gozer incident, Jocelyn had finally come to terms with the fact she had fallen fast and hard in love with him. It wasn’t just a ‘crush’ anymore. And the others, especially Janine, were relentless in trying to convince her to finally tell him how she felt.

After all, she only sobbed to Janine about how she never got to tell him how she felt, thinking he had died on top of that building.

“Jocelyn… Jocelyn?”

His voice snapped her out of her thoughts, and she turned to face him, wide eyed, “Sorry, what was that?”

“Are you alright? You’re staring out at nothing again,” he asked, seemingly concerned but giving her a gentle smile nonetheless. He had removed the cigarette from his mouth for a brief moment, the smoke rolling off his lips while he spoke.

That damn smile was going to be the death of her.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just… thinking,” she trailed off, avoiding eye contact with him.

“About what?”

“Everything,” Jocelyn swallowed hard, “The past few weeks have been pretty hectic.”

“That they have,” he nodded, noticing how she quickly turned away, “How are you holding up?”

“I’m not the one who almost died,” Jocelyn shook her head.

“You were really that worried about us, huh?” Ray’s voice was quiet. He seemed concerned.

“Of course. The roof of that apartment complex exploded,” Jocelyn twirled a strand of hair around her finger, “I was worried you guys didn’t make it.”

“But we made it. You have nothing to worry about now, Joce,” Ray placed his hand on her knee, and Jocelyn felt her cheeks burn up, and every thought vanished from her mind for a split second. He took notice of her silence, and her staring at his hand, and quickly removed it, “Sorry, personal space, I know.”

“You’re fine. It’s just… I don’t know what I’d do if you guys all died,” Jocelyn trailed off, then added quietly, “Especially if you died.”

Ray didn’t know what to say in response, just shared a sympathetic look towards the young woman he had grown so fond of.

It was clear she was still shaken up from the events that occurred a few weeks ago. She had barely escaped the old firehouse with Egon, Peter, Janine and Louis. He felt bad he couldn’t comfort her in that moment, as the next thing he knew he was being dragged away by the police. Apparently Janine had to hold her back from chasing the cop car down.

And in the past few weeks, she had begun to cling to his side more often than before. She had upped her affection with everyone, even Peter. Usually the two had bickered, but recently she hadn’t been giving him grief or shooting insults back at him.

But with Ray? She was practically attached to his hip.

The others claimed she had quite a crush on him. He never thought much of it, only that they were pulling his leg.

But the past week, he started wondering if everyone was serious. And he certainly didn’t miss Jocelyn’s quick glances at him out of the corner of his eye, especially how her eyes flickered down to his lips for a brief second, only for her to look away after.

After all, he couldn’t deny his own feelings for her. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't falling for her in return.

He turned to face her for a moment, and she quickly turned her head again, and he could swear he saw the faintest blush on her cheeks.

“Hey,” he spoke up, breaking the silence.

“Hm?” Jocelyn looked up at him again, at least this time having a reason to.

“You know you won’t be able to get rid of me that easily, right?” Ray flashed her a grin, balancing the cigarette between his teeth, and reaching over and tilting her chin up with a gentle touch of his hand. She turned red again, and his grin only grew.

“Y-yeah,” Jocelyn nodded, feeling like the air had been knocked out of her lungs. Suddenly the smoke and the smell of cigarettes was a bit too much, “Can I roll down the window?”

“Go ahead, I’ll put this out,” Ray removed the cigarette from his lips, putting it out in the ashtray, “I don’t want to bother you with my bad habits.”

“It isn’t bothering me,” Jocelyn took a deep breath as the cool night air hit her face. She turned back to Ray and gave him a smile, “I just needed some fresh air to help me stay awake.”

It was a small lie, but she couldn’t reveal the fact she was flustered to high heaven by him doing something as simple as smoking. She didn’t even find that trait attractive, yet she couldn’t help but find everything he did to be so.

It almost angered her.

“Well, we’re just about to your place now, so you can get some sleep soon,” Ray nodded ahead of him, and Jocelyn felt a small pang of disappointment in her chest. She didn’t want to leave just yet. It had been a lovely night with him, even though it was nothing more than a small dinner and a ride home.

As he parked, Jocelyn let out a small sigh of disappointment that her time with Ray had come to an end.

“Thanks for the ride, Ray, I always appreciate it,” Jocelyn unbuckled her seat.

“Wait!” Ray exclaimed, making Jocelyn freeze up for a moment as he held up his hands to stop her from moving, “Let… let me walk you to your apartment.”

Jocelyn stayed where she was, stifling a laugh as he practically scrambled to get out of the Ecto-1, nearly tripping over his own two feet doing so. She couldn’t help but smile as he circled around to her side of the car and opened up the door for her.

“You are ever the gentleman, Dr. Stantz,” Jocelyn giggled as he offered her his arm.

“Ah, remember what we all said about the formalities?” Ray joked, giving her a wink.

Jocelyn blushed, and glanced away from him. She was glad it was dark out, not wanting him to see her face burning red over such a simple gesture.

The walk to her apartment was quiet, only the sound of their footsteps against the concrete breaking the silence between them.

Ray glanced down at Jocelyn, wondering if he should attempt to make a move. God knew she wouldn’t, especially with what Egon and Winston said about her denying it until she was blue in the face.

But at the same time, he didn’t want to overwhelm her.

As they approached her apartment, Ray slowed his steps, and so did Jocelyn.

“I uh… had a lot of fun tonight,” Ray cleared his throat, tapping the fingers of his free hand against his thigh. They stopped in front of her apartment, and Jocelyn pulled away so she could turn and talk to him face to face.

“I did too,” Jocelyn smiled up at him, looking away again when he returned the smile, “Seriously, thanks for dinner tonight. It was nice to actually spend time with you away from work.”

“It was my pleasure, doll,” he tilted his head and broke out into another grin as she blushed even harder at the pet name, “Someone had to take you out and show you a real date.”

Silence fell between the two again, and Jocelyn found herself rocking back and forth on her heels.

“So… that was a date?”

“If you want it to be. I know I do.”

“Well… it was a lovely date,” Jocelyn kept looking everywhere but at him. She was flustered, and Ray knew it, and relished in the fact he had this effect on her, “I… I should probably get to bed. It is late and I do work tomorrow.”

“As do I,” Ray laughed, “I’ll let you get to bed, Sleeping Beauty.”

“Goodnight, Ray,” Jocelyn made eye contact with him again, offering a shy smile.

“Goodnight, Jocelyn,” he nodded, the smile not leaving his face.

He took a step backwards, giving her a wave before turning to head back to the Ecto-1.

Jocelyn stayed put in front of the door, not even going to reach for her keys yet. She watched Ray slowly walk away, contemplating if she should call him back and ask to kiss him.

“You really need to tell him how you feel, hun! What if he gets into another life or death situation? You’re going to be a mess if you don’t tell him. Besides, he likes you too. I have a gut feeling. And I’m hardly ever wrong about these things.”

Janine’s voice echoed in her head, and Jocelyn took a deep breath. She opened her mouth to call out to him, but before she could get any words out, Ray turned on his heel to face her.

“You know, I’m going to be kicking myself in the ass all night if I don’t do this,” Ray said as he walked back up to her.

“Do what?” Jocelyn furrowed her brows in confusion, only to freeze up as Ray cupped her face in his hands, one of his thumbs gently rubbing her cheek.

“Can I kiss you?” his voice was quiet as he looked down at her with the sweetest smile and softest look in his eyes.

Jocelyn’s mouth opened, but no words came out in her surprise.

The man of her dreams was asking to kiss her.

“Sorry, that was a bit too forward, wasn’t it? You- we don’t have to-” he started rambling an apology but Jocelyn shakily placed her hands on his chest, her fingers curling around his coat.

“I thought you’d never ask. Please,” Jocelyn nodded eagerly. Ray then relaxed, the soft look in his eyes had returned.

He leaned in slowly, and Jocelyn took in a sharp breath. Her heart pounded loudly in her chest as she glanced down at his lips, eyes fluttering shut before he closed the gap between them. She just about went weak in the knees the moment Ray pressed his lips against hers. The smell of his cologne was intoxicating, and his lips even softer than she could have ever imagined.

Jocelyn sighed against Ray’s lips, nearly melting into his embrace. One of his hands moved behind to cradle her head, fingers burying themselves into her hair. He then moved his other arm around her waist, pulling Jocelyn in even closer than before as he deepened the kiss.

But Ray was gentle still, careful not to overwhelm Jocelyn too much.

They stayed like that for a few moments, tilting their heads back and forth, lips locking together.

But all too soon, Ray pulled away.

Jocelyn followed his lips subconsciously, and Ray let out a small chuckle.

“Wow…” Jocelyn was nearly breathless, her hands still planted firmly on his chest. She was thankful he had an arm around her, worried she might fall over if he didn’t.

“Let me guess, out of all the guys you’ve kissed, I’m the best kisser, aren’t I?” Ray asked as Jocelyn smiled up at him with a slightly dazed and dreamy expression. However, the question seemed to snap her back to reality somewhat, and her face burned bright red.

“Actually… I’ve never kissed anyone before. You… you’re the first,” Jocelyn bashfully admitted, and the grin on Ray’s face only grew wider.

“Really?! A beautiful girl like you has never been kissed before?!” he exclaimed, and Jocelyn couldn’t help but laugh as he dived in for another kiss. They smiled against each other, Ray repeatedly leaving small, quick kisses against her lips before moving to kiss her cheeks, forehead, and nose.

“I’m honored,” Ray mumbled against her temple, arms tightening around her.

“I’ve been wanting to kiss you since the day we met,” Jocelyn sighed happily, hiding her face in his chest, “That was amazing. More so than I imagined.”

“You know, I thought Peter was dicking around with me when he told me you had a big crush on me,” Ray swayed back and forth with her.

“God, the second Peter realized I had a crush on you, he wouldn’t let me live it down. Then Janine has been on my ass for the past few weeks for me to tell you how I felt,” Jocelyn shook her head, sighing exasperatedly.

The pair stood there for a moment, swaying back and forth gently in each other’s arms, content to be surrounded by the other.

“So… I guess the next thing to ask is if you’ll be my girl,” Ray spoke up, his voice soft.

Jocelyn pulled away from him slightly to look up at him, unable to stop smiling.

“I would like that. I would like that a lot.”

“Good. Because I would too.”

He tilted her chin up, and pressed one more kiss against her lips. Just a small, chaste one. But it was more than enough to convey how much he cared for her.

“Well… I guess I should head inside,” Jocelyn hesitantly stated, not yet wanting to leave Ray, her boyfriend, just yet.

“It is late,” Ray sighed, “But I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning? Get coffee together?”

“I’d love nothing more, Ray,” Jocelyn smiled before he let go of her and let her grab her keys out of her purse.

“Goodnight, doll.”

“Goodnight, doctor.”

“Ah, no formalities, especially now,” he lightheartedly teased her.

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning,” Jocelyn rolled her eyes playfully before unlocking the door to her apartment. She took a step in and glanced back over at Ray, blowing him one last kiss before he turned to head back to the Ecto-1. He reached up and acted as if he caught the kiss in his hand, and put it in his pocket.

“For later!” he called out, and Jocelyn’s smile grew.

She closed the door once he turned around and got back to the car.

Ray Stantz was truly the guy she was dreaming of her whole life. And the fact he liked her back? How did she manage to get so lucky?

She knew the others would tease them relentlessly tomorrow. There was no doubt Ray would end up telling them he kissed her.

But some light teasing was worth it.

~~~

Taglist:

@gibles-lovely-selfships @frozenhi-chews @eldritchships @purple-jackett @laioswife @soulnottainted @amalthea-wolfwood @pechaberriesandsoju @cherubdulce @wisp-herr-rbs

[arsonyte]

Crack A Smile, Sir (Egon Spengler x OFC)

Genre: Fluff/Angst

Rating: General

Author’s Notes: As requested by @spenglerposting, this fic is inspired by Joy Again’s “Looking Out For You”. Barely proofread (I tried!), please bear with me.

This is a love song for a girl who will never know it's about her I know it's pretty stupid, but I'm much too shy to tell her She's beaming that smile, all the while I'm all choked up on my own throat, I guess there is no hope

Sweat running cold down the back of his neck, Egon Spengler found himself facing an empty firehouse, almost five minutes before midnight.

Panting, gasping, clutching his suitcase against his chest, he chastises himself inside his head. Peter after all did warn him that he will be coming home to a dark lab if he didn’t stand up from his usual spot in the library. He didn’t tell him, amidst all the racket Peter was making (gathering all the librarian’s negative attention towards him, as usual), that he was too busy hiding in the library on that one miserable Christmas Eve. 

He was hiding from you.

You may be a contractor bio analyst/technician for the now-famed “Ghostbusters”, more like the friendly neighborhood Paranormal Exterminators, but you’ve known Dr. Peter Venkman, Dr. Ray Stantz, and especially, Dr. Egon Spengler from your time at the Columbia University. You were some wide-eyed biotech graduate student who may have been initially dragged into Dr. Venkman’s psychic “experiments”, but thanks to the wit and grace of Dr. Stantz, you completely saw through Peter’s machinations. Despite being unable to coax you into his wiles, Venkman still became one of your good friends, allowing you to consult and work with Ray regarding your research on plasma biology.

It was Dr. Spengler who was actually hard to crack. Ray’s closest friend usually worked at the back of their office, hunched over some energy-measurement meter of some kind, with sparks from his solder being reflected on those round spectacles. Whenever you talked, consulted, exchanged notes with the jolly Dr. Stantz, you’d barely hear from the other academian, unless he had to interject with a correction or an obscure fact which Ray would just enthusiastically confirm and explore. Most of the time, he’d just stay quiet in his corner, shoving another piece of Cheez-it in his mouth.

You somehow got used to the three differing personalities in the Parapsychology department -- the flirty Venkman, the enthusiastic Stantz, and the ever-elusive Spengler. However, the word “elusive” took on a new meaning that night you offered him the last Twinkie in the box you brought in that one long night you agreed to help Stantz and Spengler with their ghost research. The ever coveted Twinkie almost fell into Peter’s conniving hands, but by some stroke of luck -- you were the last person who got ahold of it (and despite you being a usual fixture in their department, Peter wouldn’t steal it out of a guest’s hands -- a lady guest’s hand even) and instead of eating it, you stuck your hand out and offered it to the sulking scientist who regretted not getting to do the groceries the night before. 

Things were never the same after that, but you -- being the oblivious scientist yourself buried in her own work, barely noticed it.

First it was those helpful comments when you were building your own version of a P.K.E. meter to help Ray test his plasma subjects. The helpful comments were also accompanied by a few tweaks by his own hands here and there, and completely ignoring your exasperated “Please let me do it, Dr. Spengler!” noises behind him. 

Then there was the unopened box of crunch bars left at your station. And the spare notebook that was just handed out to you, without any hesitations, when you ran out of pages in the middle of an experiment. And the expensive Parker sign pen almost thrust in your nose when your pen ran out of ink. And that one evening when you woke up in the darkness of the lab, having fallen asleep beside the microscope. You found yourself covered in a thick blanket you’ve never seen before, but it wasn’t similar to what Ray often used (which he just often took out Venkman’s cabinet). But it wouldn’t have been Venkman (as he’s busy dating his current psychic assistant), nor could it have been Ray (as he left the lab five hours ago to chase a lead). You started getting ideas when you heard the crunch of a Cheez It coming from the other room.

You swore that you were so close to making Egon Spengler smile (a feat that most of his students wanted to do before their graduation day), and you did see the corner of his lip twitch upward when you correctly assumed the correct equation to the experiment they were doing before they ran off to the New York Public Library. Well, right after that they were expelled by the Dean and you had to go looking for another department to work with to finish your mini-thesis. And the rest was history.

It was barely six months when you were looking for a part-time internship to cover your requirements and you got that phonecall from Ray. Enthusiastic as ever, almost hollering on the phone, Dr. Stantz talked about their first catch and the need to have someone come in and help analyze the subjects. Maybe come in for a few days, provide the results, and then back out. It wasn’t a full time job, the pay wasn’t going to be as steady, but it had everything you needed to work on your CAPSTONE project. Ray didn’t even have to beg -- you immediately said yes.

You did it for your studies. You can say that. You do wanted to graduate on time -- somehow. But somehow, there was that tiny voice in your head wondering if you would ever get the chance to make Dr. Spengler smile before you graduate. Little did you know, it wasn’t really Ray’s idea to invite you to join their cause.

It was almost as quiet as your lab days in Columbia, but it was chaos the moment the fire alarm was rung. Then there would be some days when the plasma subjects would pile up and you would find yourself sleeping over, curled up on the single sofa in the middle of the lab. Somehow, there were nights when you’d wake up in that same comforter you recognize from Columbia, and you couldn’t help but peer around the corner as if waiting to hear a bag of Twinkie opening itself. 

There was that one night when you finished your work early, turned in the papers, and almost crashed into the boys who just arrived on their remodeled Cadillac.

“Going somewhere, Y/N?” You heard Spengler address you with your last name after you greeted Ray. This wasn’t the first time you saw him in the Ghostbuster jumpsuit, but there was something that made you step back when he towered over you. (Spengler on the other hand, wondered if you were startled with the smoking ghost trap hanging from a cord on his hand.) 

“She’s got a hot date!” Venkman called out behind him as he entered Hook & Ladder Company 8′s double doors.

You barely noticed the “Huh” that escaped Spengler’s mouth, nor the way Ray signaled to him, crossing his hands back and forth, trying to deny what Venkman just stated.

“It’s not a date!” You were used to Venkman being ridiculous that way. “I was going to return a senior’s book-bound thesis--”

“That’s how it starts!” Venkman’s voice now came from within the doors, causing Stantz to palm his face. Spengler, however, wasn’t listening. “Where will your dinner be?” He asked as if he wanted to take you there, swinging the ghost trap out of the way so he can step closer to you without driving you away again.

You raised an eyebrow. “It’s just at the Galleria around the corner,” you gestured, making a face at Stantz, as if a plea for help to get out of the situation. “I’ll be back next week--”

He already had his back turned to you and Stantz when he looked over his shoulder and quietly asked, “Is the report on the Chinatown Ghost subject done?”

You blinked at him. “Yes,” you answered. “I left it on your desk.”

Ray wondered if you were that oblivious to see the sad glint behind Egon’s thick glasses. “Good,” he answered flatly. “See you next week.”

What you didn’t know was Egon actually hovered around Janine’s station the rest of the night, asking if there was any ghost incident call coming from the Galleria. Venkman left an off comment wondering if Spengler would like to haunt the restaurant himself.

It may have already seemed obvious to the boys, but it wasn’t that obvious to you. Or, you just didn’t want to recognize it, thinking that maybe Egon just thought of you as one of his good friends.

You start having doubts when you find a note underneath his microscope that read: 

If anything happens to us -- then this microscope set is yours. 

P.S. The black trunk beside the fridge is yours too. Take care of it. 

You’ve always noticed that black trunk beside the refrigerator, which you often piled the completed reports you have regarding the ghost cases. Pushing the wad of yellowing papers aside, you managed to clear the lid of the trunk and eventually unlocked it, only to discover dozens and dozens of petri dishes inside. The strong odor of molds filled your head.

“Huh,” you found yourself mimicking Egon during that night when you went to the Galleria. You wonder where the boys were. (There was a gaping hole in the roof that day you found the note, anyway.) The last thing you knew they were working on was an incident happening at a Manhattan High Rise in the Upper East Side, and about some Sumerian God named Gozer.

Luckily, they were back and hailed as heroes the next day. Of course, the work tripled, and the more testing and paperwork had to be done over the next few nights (with Janine now giving you an extra hand with all the chaos going on. You did help out with answering the phone too, after that Gozer incident.)

You never touched that black trunk again. But there was something in Dr. Spengler’s eyes when he saw you waiting at Hook and Ladder when they got back from that Manhattan high rise. For a moment, you thought you would be able to brag that you were able to see Egon Spengler’s pearly whites on Graduation Day.

Speaking of Graduation Day, it was getting closer. The more you had to focus on your culminating project, the more you started to miss appointments with the boys in Hook and Ladder 8. At one point, you felt bad talking on the payphone with Ray, telling him to find another analyst for the meantime as you had to focus on finishing your thesis.

“You mean to come back right, Y/N?” Ray sounded worried on the phone. It made you feel bad. “Someone’s gonna be upset if you can’t finish the numbers on the Granada Residence case.”

You found yourself chuckling. “Venkman hates that case. He’ll be fine.”

Silence was found on the other side of the line. “I wasn’t talking about Venkman.” That was the first day you started thinking about it. About him.

Towards Christmas, you were slowly pulling out your things from the Ghostbusters Firehouse, but these were mostly things you can fit in a box. You were a transient contractor after all. You were on the curbside waiting for a taxi when a tall figure almost bumped into you, carrying a giant brown box.

“Y/N?” The deep voice made you turn around, and you find yourself looking up at Egon who found himself staring at the brown paper box. “Y-You’re leaving?”

You smirked at him. “Didn’t Ray tell you, Dr. Spengler?” To your surprise, he only slowly nodded.

However, it was your turn to stare at the box in his arms. “Wait a minute--” you exclaimed. “Did you have the coffee maker fixed?”

Egon shrugged. That coffee maker has been broken ever since that incident with the containment unit. Luckily, you weren’t in that day the EPA stormed Hook and Ladder 8, but you were there when the repairs were being made. You had to work through a leaking ceiling and without coffee for days on end. You did get coffee from the deli around the corner, and you were kind enough to buy the boys their own cups of coffee during those days after the Manhattan High Rise incident.

“Yes,” there was some sort of glee in Egon’s voice. “And I’ve got a new bag of Arabica beans with a wonderful roast that I know you’re fond of--” He finds himself rambling amidst another taxi passing you by. “I was wondering if you’d like to have a cup of coffee with--” he clears his throat. “Us, before you go.”

It was weird. It was awkward. But it was Spengler. It was what made him Spengler. It suddenly felt something refreshing, almost rejuvenating.

“I can’t,” you wrinkled your nose at him as you looked at the nth taxi that passed you by. “I’ve got this report to present at the University.” 

Trying to ignore that crestfallen air forming about the man, you quickly muttered, “I will be back Christmas Eve though! I still have some more things to pick up.”

The “oh” that escaped Egon felt like a breath of fresh air. “On Christmas Eve?--”

You nodded. “I’ll be there,” you murmured as you tried flagging the yellow taxi that ignored you again. Fucking New York taxis. “Walker will be helping me carry the rest of the papers--”

You saw him blink behind those thick specs. “Walker?” Egon’s flat tone was returning. “The Guy from the Galleria?”

You shrugged at him. “Yeah, the classmate--” you corrected him. 

“Huh.”

You turned around to find him walking towards the Firehouse doors, his face obscured from you once more. “Let’s hope he doesn’t like coffee,” were the last words you heard from him before the door closed.

It was Christmas Eve. And that was the racket that Pete was making the library about. 

“Don’t be so silly Spengy--” he was exclaiming as he flopped on the chair beside the bespectacled, disgruntled scientist. “Those boxes will be out before midnight and you’ll never get to bug that girl about the mitochondria count on the plasmic sensor--”

“Venkman,” Egon said sternly.

“So what if Galleria Boy is there with her? What if he’s just there to hold her papers?” Venkman muttered while eating Spengler’s unfinished bar of chocolate to further aggravate him. “You fixed that coffee maker for what? A couple of dollars and not even one cup brewed--”

There was something that made Spengler look at the library’s Grandfather clock which was almost thirty minutes to twelve, causing him to grab all the books on the table and leave Venkman alone on his chair, who was starting to get the stink-eye from the library admin.

“Finally!” Venkman boomed before being swapped on the shoulder by the elderly librarian.

But now, it was already twelve. He got there a few minutes to Christmas and the Hook and Ladder 8 remained empty. He must have been too late.

Egon Spengler walked over to Janine’s empty reception desk and slumped on a guest chair in front of it, still hugging his suitcase. He almost kicked himself by not making it obvious. Venkman hated it whenever Egon took his comforter from his cabinet and draped it over you whenever you were sleeping. It became a habit for him to leave a small treat on your table whenever you left or weren’t looking, and he found joy when you looked around wondering from who it came from, before opening it and putting it in your mouth. He decided one day to have the coffee maker repaired after he saw you exhaustedly asking him if he wanted some too before you trudged miserably towards the deli. 

It was the small things. He frowned wondering if he shouldn’t have tried to hide it, and maybe for once you’d be smiling at him -- not at Venkman who made those stupid jokes, not at Ray who enthusiastically supported your ideas, not that Walker kid he had no idea about and probably slept in his class a long time ago. Him, who thought about leaving his spores and fungi collection to you in case Gozer got him and the guys.

Leaning back against the chair and sighing, Egon peered in the dark and tried to gain some resolve about the situation. I guess she’ll never know. I guess it’s best she doesn’t know.

That was when the Hook and Ladder door burst open.

Spengler was too consumed in his thoughts to recognize the small steps that wandered in, only coming to his senses when that person opened the lamp on Janine’s desk.

“Dr. Spengs???” You exclaimed, staring at the Ghostbuster whose glasses were misting with the cold. Or was it? “You’re still here?”

He stared at you, wondering if he was just imagining things.

“Didn’t expect to see you here -- on Christmas even -- all alone,” you said unbelievably, shaking your head at him.

“But--” he started, setting his suitcase down to fix his glasses. He couldn’t believe it was you. “But I thought--”

You placed a hand on your waist and sighed. “I was here,” you answered the question he couldn’t finish forming in his mouth. “I almost cleaned the place if I wasn’t your contractor,” you laughed, brandishing the firehouse key at him. “All those journals on ghost formations--”

“Any self-serving thief would go for the proton packs--”

You shook your head at him. “Eh, I’m a researcher--” you laughed. “I’d be going after your journals.”

Was that a shadow of a smile on his face or was it just your imagination? Is this really happening?

“And that Walker guy--” he started slowly, brown eyes slowly appraising your figure in front of him.

You shrugged. “Went home to celebrate Christmas with his family. Left me alone running after the journal I left--” You picked it out of the mess that is Janine’s papers. “Here.”

A cold breeze came through the door. Suddenly, for Egon, it really felt like Christmas.

“So, will you stay and have coffee with me?”

You couldn’t believe it.

You are definitely going to brag to your batchmates that Dr. Egon Spengler had the brightest smile you had ever seen.

[apollafire]

Chapter Two

Summary; Kate gets to know the guys in a more social setting, Peter and Ray make a proposition.

Warnings; alcohol consumption in a bar setting, Venkman being Venkman, science talk, annoyingly overbearing family members

Final Word Count; 1250

With the extra help, Kate got most of her office unpacked within the next hour or so, what was left she could just deal with herself later. It was mostly Ray who helped, Peter just kind of went through boxes and cracked jokes while Egon lingered near the bookshelf in what seemed to be a contemplative state. Carefully lowering a bell jar over some of her prime venus fly trap specimens, Kate spoke up, 

“How about I buy lunch for us? As a thank you for helping.” She turned to face the guys, hands on hips, “Pizza?” She grabbed her purse from the desk and went out to search for a phone she could order from before any of them could even respond. 

“You know what, fellas? We have to get her in on our research, I think she’d be a great asset.” Venkman said pointing towards the door after Kate left and was out of earshot.

“Peter, her line of work doesn’t even line up with ours, she’s here to teach… and you only want her around because she is a woman.” Egon spoke as he turned away from observing the books, facing his two colleagues. 

“We know she shares some of the same interests.” Ray said gesturing to the shelf that held the works of Aleister Crowley among other supernatural texts, “And if we ever have any actual run ins with ectoplasm, she could analyze it chemically, break it down to it’s finer proteins or something! Maybe she won’t want to collaborate full time but it sure wouldn’t hurt to ask her.”

“We don’t want to come on too strong, now. Let’s invite her to have some drinks with us at the bar later this week, we can spring it on her then.” Peter chimed in again, “Egon you should come too.”

“I don’t drink, you know that.”

“It wouldn’t hurt for you to come out with us and socialize with a lovely lady, alright? You can have all the water you want. You being there will even soften the deal. One look at you pal and she went all doe eyed.” Peter walked over and clapped a hand on his shoulder, earning a scoff from the taller scientist.

“Alright, I forgot to ask what kind you guys like, so I got two cheeses and a pepperoni.” Kate returned holding three stacked pizza boxes, “They refused to deliver to the basement so I had to wait around and wait for the kid outside.” Not even acknowledging the strange little huddle going on, she put the boxes down on her desk and set them next to each other.

“Say, hey Kate, Katieee. Can I call you Katie?” Peter said as he turned to address her.

“If you value your ability to have children in the future, no.”

“Okay, nevermind about that. How about you join us at the bar just off campus this Saturday? We can get to know you and you, us, away from all the workplace hustle and bustle.” 

“Saturday? Sounds good to me, I had plans I didn’t want to keep anyway.”

“And Peter Mitchell really transformed the way we look at things with his protonmotive force hypothesis of course, and people hated him for that for a while but now it’s been proven and it’s standard.” Coming to the end of a long winded tangent on why she chose biochemistry as a profession, Kate looked around the booth at the three men sitting with her, “Sorry, got a bit carried away.” 

“No! It’s really great stuff! We’d love to hear more.” Ray exclaimed over the sound of the bar, Egon nodding along to his words as he continued to look at the book he had in front of him. Although he had actually stopped reading when Kate started excitedly talking about her field.

“If we didn’t have other things to discuss, maybe another time Raymond.” Peter held a hand up and turned back to the woman across from him who was now nervously doodling on a napkin, “So, Dr. Harrison. We would like to ask you something.” Kate lifted her head and looked across at Peter and Ray suspiciously.

“This better not be some hazing thing…” She narrowed her eyes as she spoke, glancing at Egon who sat on the outer half of the bench next to her. She was pretty much boxed in. 

“No, this is purely us offering friendship and collaboration.” Ray said, taking charge of the conversation before Peter could mess it up, “We were wondering if, from time to time, you would like to join us in our paranormal research. When you have the time of course. It’s entirely up to you.”

“Personally I would like to run some theories on the chemical bonds of ectoplasm by you, get in your input and such.” Egon spoke up for the first time since they all met up at the bar almost two hours ago. 

“You know what? That sounds really cool, I’m in.” She said with an enthusiastic nod, “And you know where to find me during my office hours.” She laughed softly before looking at the time, “Shit, I should call my sister. I forgot to tell her I wasn’t coming. You don’t mind letting me out so I can go use the phone, do you?” She asked Egon who gave a small nod and moved to stand up from the booth, sitting back down once more as she walked away. 

“See? Now was that so hard?” Peter shook his head as he returned his attention to his beer, reaching over to grab the napkin she had been drawing on, “Now what do you think that is?” He turned upside down and back a couple of times. 

“That’s the human nervous system Venkman, she’s drawn it three and a half times since we sat down.” Egon turned back to his book.

"Huh, interesting."

“Irene, I’m sorry, okay? Plans came up out of the blue, work got busy and I forgot to call you sooner to let you know. It’s not like you don’t host dinner every Saturday, I’m only missing it once.” Kate ran a hand over her face as her sister berated her over the phone.

“Your sister has been in the kitchen all day making this roast, and now there’s too much food!” Her mother’s voice came over the line and she visibly cringed. 

“Well then, tell dad that he can have a third helping.” She stated, “And take me off speakerphone! You don’t need the kids to overhear the background noise of a bar!” 

“Oh that’s rich, spending your Saturday night at a bar with strange people rather than with your family, who care about you!” Her mother spoke up again.

“I’m with the guys from the next office over, they are not strangers, ma.”

“Oh, so strange men? Even better!” 

“They are respectable colleagues with PhDs just like me who actually hear what I care about. The second I start talking about the periodic table in front of any of you, you don’t even let me finish a word, let alone a whole sentence.” She huffed, “And hanging around in bars on a Saturday is something I should’ve done this whole time, not wasted them at dinners where all you talked about was how I’ve been wasting my time with school when I should’ve been looking for a husband. Now goodbye and have a wonderful evening.” She slammed the receiver back onto the hook and returned to the table.

[movie-titlecards]

The Red Circle (1960)

My rating: 5/10

[ramisxbogart88]

My lil buddy

isn’t Egon Spengler adorable everyone he’s a cute little baby boy with blonde hair and he is in a relationship with a handsome brown eyed night club owner named Rick Blaine

[nine-frames]

Das Gasthaus an der Themse (The Inn on the River), 1962.

Dir. Alfred Vohrer | Writ. H.G. Petersson, Egon Eis & Gerhard F. Hummel | DOP Karl Löb

[letsgofoletsgo]

My part of an art trade for @canon-can-fight-me

~

As the moon rose over New York, the energy of the daytime receded to the nightlife. A different aura awakened, cloaked under blaring neon lights and shadows. The night offered a leeway for the rowdier side of the city to awaken.

Egon Spengler was not the one for such a scene. He never found himself comfortable with large, loud, drunken crowds, much less under strobing lights and deafening music. The only time he’d even think of staying up late was if he was chasing a groundbreaking scientific pursuit. 

Numbers, calculations, logic, that all made sense to him. Most of the time, people didn’t. He was fine with that.

Or, that was, until he met Kaiyo. 

For once in his life, he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Sure, she took an interest in his scientific work, listened to him ramble, and gave him space when he needed it, but there was something more that made her feel so special. Something about her that sparked a want to be near her, where he felt like he could truly be himself. It was foreign to him, but he wasn’t complaining. 

Egon found himself deep in these thoughts one night. In his lab under the firehouse, his own little sanctuary within the buzzing metropolis. Even with the specimens in front of him, his mind wandered to Kaiyo. He’d never before found himself so preoccupied with something that wasn’t his current project, so the enigma further eluded him. Just what was it about her-

“Sup professor!” A voice chimed behind him. 

Egon jumped, vials audibly clinking as his hands jerked. “K-Kaiyo! Warn me before you burst into the lab like that!” 

“Heh, sorry. Still wired from training, Ray kept me on my toes today.”

Observing the grin on her face, Egon couldn’t find it in himself to stay mad at her. “I see.” 

Kaiyo tilted her head to watch him as he reorganized the vials. “What’re you working on?”

“Just running some tests. I want to see what chemicals these plasm specimens react with so I can narrow down what they’re made of.” 

“Nice. How long have you been at it?”

“A couple hours. This sort of procedure is mostly trial and error, it should take me a few days to get anything definitive.” 

“Gotcha.” 

Kaiyo eyed the specimens, lips then curving into a small smile. “That purple stuff reminds me of my first bust. You remember that?” 

“I do.” 

She giggled. “I mean, I’m glad we caught the thing, but it didn’t have to explode all over me.” 

“It’s something of an occupational hazard unfortunately. With how unpredictable ghosts can be, you were lucky it wasn’t corrosive.” 

“Well, it's a hazard I’ll take. A bit of slime won’t stop me from being a Ghostbuster, its a pretty bang up job.” She chided, voice then lowering. “Besides, I get to work with you. Not everyone gets to work with the best scientist in New York City.” 

Egon couldn’t deny the blush on his face at that. “W-Well, thank you… The feeling is mutual.” 

Kaiyo smiled warmly. “Hey, when you’re done with the samples, how about we watch a movie together? I think they’re playing some oldies on 85.” 

“Sure. I’d like that.” 

“Sounds like a plan.” She turned,  then looked back at him. “See ya later.” 

“See you.” 

With that, Kaiyo left the lab, and Egon with his thoughts once again. The question in his mind remained, asking it to himself as the specimens were nearly forgotten. Sure, he could never exactly place why he felt the way he did about Kaiyo. But as long as he was with her, maybe he didn’t need an answer; at least not strictly.  

[cartografiadaausencia]

Eis a "cartografia da ausência".

André Tecedeiro, "O número de Strahler" in "A axila de Egon Schiele"

14.04.2022

[daughter-of-melpomene]

Can we get Dot in Ghostbusters? I feel like she'd fit in pretty well there

Oh, Dot in Ghostbusters would be amazing, thanks so much for asking about this!!

⤷ Okay, so Dot probably wouldn’t be a professor at the university like the guys, but I can totally picture her being, like, Peter or Egon’s intern who leaves with the guys when they get fired because, well, she wasn’t getting paid anyway, and she’s always thought the dean was kind of a dick.

⤷ And Dot is also a huge believer in the supernatural no matter what fandom she’s in, so she wouldn't have one bit of trouble getting into the swing of catching ghosts.

⤷ The rest of the guys are all a little bit surprised that she's so knowledgeable about this stuff, since she hasn't had the education they have, but she just shrugs and says, "I was a weird kid. I've been studying this stuff since I was little."

⤷ Definitely has the kind of relationship with Peter that she does with Face - a perpetually annoyed, always bickering, I'm-allowed-to-insult-you-but-no-one-else-is kind of sibling dynamic. She and Egon also definitely act like siblings, but more in a sunshine little sister/grumpy big brother kind of way.

⤷ If she does have a love interest, it would probably be either Ray or Winston. But really, I think she would just be a character of her own, there to be the sunshine member of the Ghostbusters and kick ass when it's needed.

⤷ Has this moment during the fight against Gozer where she just goes off and starts cursing the god out with every name she can think of, and the guys are simultaneously shocked and wide-eyed because they've never heard her say so much as "hell" before, and freaking out because they're like, "You are way too small to be pissing off someone this powerful!"

⤷ (She isn't, really, but they're all very protective over her).

Send me an OC + a different fandom and I'll give you some headcanons for what they'd be like in that fandom!

[peterlorrefanpage]

Ah, here's Peter Lorre from one of the films I just cannot find: Lorre as Klotz, Schuß im Morgengrauen (A Shot at Dawn), 1932.

**Plea: If you have a source for this film, let me know!**

--

"Lorre appeared as a trigger-happy thug in UFA’s Schuss im Morgengrauen (A Shot at Dawn, 1932), based on The Woman and the Emerald by Harry Jenkins, a bullet-ridden crime drama centered around a jewel heist. Convinced he could do nothing with the 'underwritten' role, the actor suggested making his character a frustrated sex maniac.

"'He played it like that,' remembered Rudolf Katscher, who coauthored the screenplay. 'He followed every young female character from behind, with his hand and fingers outstretched to pinch her bottom. So when he started that gag, the audience knew what was coming and roared with laughter. In fact, he never got to "grips" with any unsuspecting bottom!'

"Critics credited producer-director Alfred Zeisler and his writers, Katscher and Otto and Egon Eis, for tightening the tension with humor and singled out the 'splendid acting' of the criminal types, including the 'horribly grotesque' Lorre, who made the most of his small part." - The Lost One: A Life of Peter Lorre

--

I know this film is out there. I know Lorre really only had a small part in it. I want it anyway and its continual elusiveness is irksome. I think I see mentions of it on sites all in Spanish or Swedish or German, an actual film to view versus just a description or a photo, O wondrous moment! --but then, alas, I get a malware alert if I were to proceed.

Until that happy day, here are other photos from Schuss im Morgengrauen. Some of them are Getty, and perhaps you've seen them all already, but you won't mind, will you? 😁

(L-R) Peter Lorre, Karl Ludwig Diehl, director Alfred Zeisler, and Ery Bos, during filming.

(L-R) Director Alfred Zeisler, Guenter Grau, Peter Lorre, Fritz Odemar, and Theodor Loos, during filming.

(L-R) Theodor Loos, Fritz Odemar, Peter Lorre, Heinz Salfner.

(L-R) Fritz Odemar, Theodor Loos, Peter Lorre, and Ery Bos. Love how Lorre's eyes are almost glowing.

(L-R) Theodor Loos, Peter Lorre, Fritz Odemar, and Heinz Salfner.

(L-R) Fritz Odemar, Theodor Loos, Peter Lorre, and Ery Bos. Looks like Klotz is being stopped from coming to grips, there!

(L-R) Ery Bos, Theodor Loos, Fritz Odemar, and Peter Lorre.

(L-R) Fritz Odemar, Theodor Loos, Ery Bos, and Peter Lorre.

Ery Bos & Peter Lorre.

Our dear Klotz.