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#talk about eyes and shooting goo FROM eyes so
whatudottu · 2 years
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Out of left field but I’ve been thinking about alien eyes and specifically unique aliens eyes and how Ben 10 is sorely lacking in variety.
So I’ve been thinking about one of the sets of eyes that comes prepackaged with some special detail; lepidopterran eyes.
Starting off with the obvious, let’s talk about those stalk eyes though-
Between snails and crabs (and all the little creatures in between), eye stalks are very good at looking around when you either have no neck or have a very energy inefficient equivalent, but sometimes the sight itself isn’t the greatest depending on the type of eye (snails don’t have auto-focus and manually use the stalks to adjust vision, crabs have compound eyes and see hundreds and thousands of small blurry repeating images). Lepidopterrans, with four prehensile stalk eyes which have the ability to shoot goo, probably don’t have the best sight because of this.
But what’s this I hear about a goo shooting set of eyes? Where does the goo come from and how does a lepidopterran aim and otherwise not be bothered with gak coming from their face?
Well- perhaps unlike the eyes of Earth’s creatures, the ‘pupil’ does not act as part of their eye but as a barrel of a gun.
Something something the Original Series was being wacky by having current Ben transform into a ‘pupil’less Stinkfly only to have Babyfly and Papafly get a set of black dots, yada yada Omniverse came along and gave Stinkfly some well deserved holes, what if the reason why lepidopterrans can see while firing is because their eye is not the entire opening of the eyestalk but a concentric ring of compound eyes that circle some goo tract. Compound eyes may not be the best kind of eyes for sight and otherwise aiming, but a full regular eye would not quite fit around the tract without getting crowded and compound by proxy; besides, who needs sight when you’ve weaponised stink. Lots of flying insects have compound eyes anyway.
But moving away from eyes, the formation of this eye tract would mean that at the base of all four of a lepidopterran’s eyes there probably isn’t a brain but instead a special goo organ. It’s not to say that a lepidopterran doesn’t have a brain at all, but it certainly means that the already poor sighted bug has a longer distance to send visual information to a relevant occipital lobe for perception, their brain being located - like certain Earthen bugs - more so within their chests. This organ can also be accessed by the mouth to spew out goo rather than shoot it.
Why have I made this post? I have no idea I was zoning out and now I’ve finished a write and have no clue where I am or if this was cohesive, have some unique alien eyes and now some weird biology shit.
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hoshigray · 1 year
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hey there! what do you think would toji’s reaction be when he finds out that you like getting spanked? (your version of toji lives in my mind rent free)
Damn, noonie!! This one was enticing to write, I ain't gon' lie lol had to sacrifice sleep to see it through hahaha. Hope you enjoy it!! And tysmmmm ;w; it's nice to know that others like how I write for my man~~ ♡
Cw: dom!Toji x fem!reader - doggy style/backshot position - Daddy kink - impact play/spanking (obvi) - slight degradation (Toji calls you a whore) - clitoral play (pinches to the clit) - pet names (angel, baby, sweetie/sweetheart, mama) - praise - mentions of drool - unprotected sex but Toji doesn't shoot inside. Wc: 1.4k
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The first time it happened was on accident.
You and Toji were sitting on the couch watching television— his favorite basketball team was on, and by the looks of it (and the older man's frustration ticking up by the second), the game wasn't going so well. The score was neck-and-neck; you could tell it was pushing your boyfriend to the edge.
Nervously, you pick up your glass to sip your beverage, only to find it completely empty. You get up from the couch and move past Toji. However, simultaneously, something happened on the program that caused the man to groan in vexation and throw his big hands out aggressively.
The back of his hand unexpectedly meets your ass, causing you to shriek and drop the glass. Toji hears the sound of glass shattering and stops watching the sport to assess what transpired. When he sees you rub your butt where the back of his palm bumped into, apologies enter the scene.
"Oh shit, sorry 'bout that, baby." He gets up to pull you away from the glass, but you forgive him knowing his actions weren't intentional.
The second time, though, was far from an accident.
Toji came home from grocery shopping and walked into the shared bedroom to see you lying on the bed, on the phone with your best friend talking about whatever. A quick smile is flashed his way before returning to your conversation while he removes his leather jacket and exchanges his outdoor clothes for something more comfortable.
When he's done changing, he looks at you, so glued to your device that you don't notice him observing. He notices how laid back you are, lying on your stomach with just an oversized sweatshirt — his sweatshirt — and your panty-covered bottom for his eyes to see.
Emerald eyes linger on your lower half, tracing the lacy material of your undergarment. A smirk sneaks through scarred lips while Toji silently moves towards you, raising his hand before it comes down on your ass. And it comes down hard.
Expected, you react to the sudden interruption. But this time, Toji doesn't hear a shriek leave your lips. No, no. To his ears, it sounded like something with a more pleasant intonation. A moan.
You freeze. He freezes. No one says anything until someone on the other side of your phone comments.
"Hey, is something wrong?" Your best friend has a worried tone in their voice. "Was that a moan just now? Oh, I swear to God, Y/n, you better not be having sex while on the phone—"
You quickly interject. "No, no, no! Sorry, it was just that...Toji!!" With anger plastered on your face, you glare at your boyfriend, who's undoubtedly the culprit of what happened a few seconds ago.
He doesn't explain himself as he straightens himself and exits the bedroom. Even as he escaped, his smug grin remained on his face. "My bad, kid." he laughed and closed the bedroom door.
Fast forward to the present, you and Toji are in the comfort of your shared bedroom. "Nnmph! Oh, fuck...Daddy, feels so goo—Ahhhnn!"
With your back arched and your butt raised, Toji fucks you doggy style. Your mouth is covered by the satin covers of the pillow, suppressing the ecstatic noises from your mouth. His hands are positioned on each side of your hips, stationing you to take in the ruts of his sex. You can feel every dent and vein of his cock scraping your insides, the delicious sensation corrupting your senses.
The man drills his dick deep within you, and the sounds of his pelvis slamming onto your butt fill the bedroom. Toji can't help but admire having you like this for him and him alone: exposing your sweat-covered back and your soft rear being pounded. It turns him on so fucking much. And don't get him started on your pussy. The way your inner walls clench around him every time the base of his cock kisses your southern lips? Oh, it fucks him up so much, using every fiber of his being to not come too quick.
"Hnngh! Fuck, Y/n..." He moans to you, grinding his hips on your butt for his length to further churn your insides. It has you gripping the sheets with a bitten lip. "Feel so good fr' me, mama."
Although, he can't help but notice something. Anytime he brushes his hand on your buttocks, a jolt comes from your body. Along with a quick grasp of your cunt around his cock.
It's been apparent for the past six minutes, yet only now is when it hits him: the accident and his little prank before directly connect to what's happening now. It hits him, and he can't fight the tiny smile that's starting to bloom.
Now, the third time has finally presented itself.
"Hey, sweetie." You moan at the pet name, and hums of pleasure seep out when Toji slows the pace of his thrusts. "Does my baby like to get spanked?
Suddenly, everything in the room feels like it's come to a halt, and your blood runs cold. "H-Huh?" You meekly question.
"Oh, I know you heard me." A chill trickles down your spine when you hear him snicker from behind, and a squeak exits your puffy lips when you feel a big hand slither up and down the cusp of your ass. "Go on. Tell Daddy how much you love to get y'r ass smacked by me, sweetheart."
You can't tell if the sweat on your forehead is from the heat or the anxious pool in your stomach. You try to rationalize. "N-Now, Toji. Let's not try any—Eeeyaaah!!!"
A harsh slap on your ass causes you to substitute your thoughts with a forced scream. Your cunt tightens around his cock in haste, and he hisses. His fingers dig deep into the stinging flesh, and you can only imagine the tiny crescents his nails are branding onto your delicate skin.
"Aaaaahhh, shit...Sorry, angel, I didn't quite catch that." Toji bends down to bite your shoulder, resulting in another choked cry filling the air. "What's my name again, Y/n?" His voice drops to a dangerous low octave that makes you shiver.
"Nnmmm...I'm sorry, Daddy," you purr under him.
He grins hard with his hand kneading your ass. "Y'r grippin' me hard every time I play with this ass." He smacks your asscheek again, tears prickle at the corner of your eyes, and you prove his point when your slit contracts around him again. "What do you want Daddy to do 'bout that?"
With heavy huffs, you try to regain some sense to formulate a proper response for the man dominating over you. Your face is hot with embarrassment coursing through your quivering body.
"I...I want—"
"Speak a lil louder, baby." Fingernails sink deep into the skin of your ass, and you jerk from the pain.
"Pleaseeee, Daddyyy," you know your whines only feed his ego, but that's what he wants. That's how you'll get what you're aching for. "Pleaseee, I want you to slap my ass...I want it so ba—Aaaaahhhh!!!"
And with that, Toji doesn't hold back. Fast ruts to your soaping slit are paired along with strikes to your butt, and there's no use in you trying to conceal the mewls flying out your mouth. Every harsh smack to your bottom forces your pussy to clamp around Toji's dick. The contrasts between the pleasurable commotion and the extreme hits of his hands are too intense for your brain to comprehend.
Toji, however, enjoys this type of change in rhythm. "Aiishhh, damn. Who woulda thought my baby liked gettin' their ass smacked, grippin' me like a dirty whore." Your asscheeks are now stinging and hot from his painful touch, your cunt clenching ahold of him as he bullies your body inside and out. "But—Oh, fuckin' shit...I fuckin' love this."
And you can't deny it either; despite you moaning out loud and having your body be used like a porn star, your arousal is at an all-time high. Tears and drool now fall from your pretty face and stain the satin pillow covers.
So much so that your orgasm hits you without your recollection when Toji snakes down a hand to pinch on your clit. The abrupt, cruel, yet exhilarating tweak to your sensitive bud topped it off, tipping you to experience your long-awaited climax.
Toji knows he'll follow suit when he feels the walls of your chasm flutter around his cock, taking out his member to shoot his load out. His essence paints your ass, striking down slowly to your back.
You two heave through the aftershocks, your body now sweaty and dirty with filth on your back and between your legs. The older man leans down to kiss your shoulders. "Did so good fr' me, mama. We outta do that more often."
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miley1442111 · 22 days
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the fifth kiss- s.reid
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a/n: season one, episode 18 'Somebody's Watching'
summary: lila archer gets in the way of you and spencer.
pairing: spencer reid x fem bau! reader
warnings: general cm topics, the team don't know about you and spencer, injuries, reader gets injured, spencer shoots someone. (i think that's it, tell me if i missed anything :))
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You sat in your hotel room, confused at the events of the day. Maybe it was the sweltering LA heat, or maybe it was the awful way Lila and Spencer were making goo-goo eyes at each other. 
You had been at the gallery with him and his sub-par flirting. At least Lila was happy. When Spencer  had to leave he was practically begging you to convince Gideon to leave him with Lila. 
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“Sprence, we have to go,” You grabbed his shoulder and went up on tip-toes to whisper in his ear. You started walking out of the gallery with Gideon and noticed Spencer didn’t follow. 
“Spencer!” Gideon called to him. 
Spencer walked up to you. “Do you need me? Or c-can I stick around here for a while?” He smiled shyly. 
“Gideon wants you so I’d just ask him,’” you shrugged. 
“But… Can you just ask him?” Spencer pushed. 
“Spencer!” Gideon called. “Y/n!”
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When Detective Kim asked you to look at the crime scene, and when the rest of the team was called, everyone knew that you’d be most helpful in this case. You’d been in the violent crimes division which meant you’d be able to accurately tell them if it was a gang, what kind of killer it was, and why they were doing it. On top of that you were definitely the most qualified to talk to Lila Archer when she came back with the note from her stalker/ the unsub because of your year as a liaison on a team in London. 
“Hi, I’m Agent Y/l/n, this is Agent Morgan, Agent Greenaway, Agent Jareau, Agent Hotchner, and of course, you know Agent Gideon and Doctor Reid,” you introduced the team as she came into the room. “Agent Morgan and I will ask you some questions, if that’s ok?”
She nodded her head but her eyes stayed glued to where Spencer had his arm around you. You two were best friends, in the team's eyes. In reality, you two had been dating for the past 4 weeks. You hadn’t told anyone since it was only new but you really liked him. But, you two had sex and he hasn’t asked you out again. Granted, you’ve both been busy but… doubt was starting to creep in. 
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“Did you know Natalie Ryan?” You asked.
“We spoke when we were in public, but we were never friends,” she shrugged as she picked at her nails, clearly uninterested in what you had to say. 
“What about Wally Mellman?” Morgan added. 
“What about him?” she asked. 
“He was killed a few months ago, did you know him?” You asked. 
Lila shook her head. “I read for a part but they went a different way.”
“What way?” Elle asked as she entered the room. 
“They cast another actress… it was Natalie,” she admitted. 
“Nice way to get rid of competition,” Morgan said, eyeing her agent beside her. 
“Hey it wasn’t me! I brought her into this damn police station,” he defended.
“Alright, do you ever feel like you’re being watched?” You asked. 
“All the time,” she scoffed. “It kind of comes with the territory.”
“Yes, but an unusual amount,” you continued. “Something out of the ordinary that happens regularly-”
“Repetitive phone calls with hang-ups, gifts left anonymously,” Morgan started listing. 
Lila wasn’t listening and she definitely wasn’t cooperating. 
“Ms. Archer?” you asked. Her eyes snapped back to yours. 
“Pardon?”
“Is there something more important you could be doing right now?” You snarked.
“Why isn’t Dr. Reid in here?” She asked. 
“He’s busy,” Elle answered. “I can assure you, you are with the people you need to be with right now.”
“Yes, but why do I need to be with all of you?” She asked and your blood boiled. 
“Because we’re the people on the team that have worked on stalking cases before, Dr. Reid, hasn’t,” Morgan gritted out, anger spilling from him too. 
“Now back to the questions, does something out of the ordinary happen on a regular basis?”m You asked. 
“I receive flowers,” she admitted. “On the 7th of each month they just appear in my trailer. Never a note, just a plain glass bowl. Red anemones, my favourite.” 
“And you’ve never questioned who they’re from?” Elle asked. 
“Celebrities get anonymous gifts all the time, she has fans y’know?” 
“Does the number 7 mean anything to you? Did you meet anyone on the 7th, or in the 7th month of the year?”
“No,” she said, definitively. “I would remember.”
“Alright, who would you have told about red anemones being your favourite flower?” you asked.
“I don’t know, I guess my friends and family?” she sighed. “Can we be done now?”
“Lila, I need a list of people who would know that those flowers are your favourite, like… my boyfriend knows that my favourite flowers are blue lilies-” Lila’s eyes snapped to yours and immediately sized you up. 
“Who’s your boyfriend?” She asked. “Are you dating Spencer?”
“No, I am not dating Dr. Reid,” you lied. 
“Why are you two so close?” She questioned. 
“Am I interviewing you or are you interviewing me?” You snapped back. “Ms. Archer, two people are dead because of you, that’s the reality of the situation. Dr. Reid is working your case, just like the rest of us. So, I suggest you start cooperating before someone else gets hurt.” 
Lila’s eyes clouded and glossed over, she left the room, sniffling and on the verge of tears. You didn’t care. She was withholding information for no reason other than the fact that she liked Spencer. 
“What happened?” Spencer demanded when he walked in. “Lila’s crying.”
You rolled your eyes. “Fucking brat.”
Elle and Derek nodded their heads in agreement while Spencer pulled a face of confusion. 
“Spencer, she’s just like every other Hollywood starlet, selfish, self-centred, and really annoying,” Elle chuckled and both Derek and you laughed with her. 
“She's a person who’s going through a very hard time right now,” he stated then turned his gaze on you. “and you spoke to her in an unprofessional way.”
You scoffed. “Right…” 
“I mean it, she told me what you said.” 
“You mean… the truth? Two people are dead because of her,” you sighed. “Listen Spencer, I don’t want to fight you over your clear crush on her,” something you hadn’t wanted to admit earlier. “So go for it, sleep with her, kiss her, I don't really care.” 
Spencer’s eyes widened. He hadn’t asked you to be his girlfriend yet. You’d been on 4 dates. You two weren’t ‘dating’. 
“Y/n-” Spencer tried but you got up. 
“I’m going to grab some coffee,” you announced, then left with Spencer behind you. 
“What do you mean you don’t care?” Spencer asked in a small voice as he stood behind you. 
“Spencer, we both know you have a crush on Lila, if you want to go for it, go for it,” you sighed. 
“But I… what about us?”
“We both know you got what you wanted,” you shrugged. “I just never thought you’d be like that.”
“W-what am I like?,” he stuttered.
You ignored his stupid question.“And Spencer, I don’t really take kindly to people questioning my ability to do my job, alright?” 
Spencer just nodded, and walked away.
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You cared. You cared a lot. 
That’s why you were sitting in your hotel room alone and crying, confused about the day. 
There was a knock at the door. You opened it and found Gideon. 
“Evening?” You questioned as you let him in, brushing the tears off your cheeks. 
“You and Spencer need to talk,” he stated. 
“About what?”
“Your relationship, for one,” he sighed. “You two are both in love with each other, we can all see it, and now you’ve sent him off to go sleep with a movie star because he can’t stop stuttering around her?”
You looked away in embarrassment. “The goo-goo eyes didn’t help,” you shrugged, speaking like a dejected child. 
“What was your first date?”
“We don-t- we aren’t-”
“Yes you did. Now tell me, what was your first date?”
“We went to the cinema near his apartment, we saw this Italian film, ‘La Chimera’, then we got lunch,” you rattled off.
“What was his body language throughout?”
“Gideon-” you sighed.
“Tell me,” he said sternly.  
“He was nervous, he kept messing with his hands, he was stuttering, and when I kissed him he tensed up for a few seconds,” you rolled your eyes at Gideon’s antics. 
“Exactly, and who is the only person on this team that Spencer genuinely seeks out to touch?” He asked. 
“Me.”
“Exactly.” 
“But still, he also likes her and I don’t know if you noticed but I’m not her!”
“But you’re you, and Spencer’s in love with you.”
You sighed. “I sent him off.”
“What?” He asked, horrified. 
“I told him we were ‘casual’ and that I didn’t care if he dated someone else.”
“Why would you do that?” He hissed. 
“Because I thought it was the right thing to do!”
“You’re supposed to be intelligent!” He groaned. 
“I know!” You shouted back. 
Gideon sighed and walked closer, pulling you into a hug. “You two will be ok.”
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You sat beside Lila as she got into makeup. “I’m not stopping my life,” she stated. 
“Yeah, you mentioned that,” you sighed. 
Spencer walked up beside you two with a coke in his hand. 
Lila turned her nose up at the coffee that she’d been drinking for the past few minutes and you almost laughed when she took his coke, expecting him to grab it right back. Your mouth dropped open when hee let her drink from it, then took a drink right after. She was called to the scene and you rolled your eyes. 
“You don’t mind sharing with me, do you?” Derek teased. 
“Shut up.”
“Go get ‘em loverboy.”
When Spencer met your eyes you swore you saw regret, or some kind of remorse in them. You ignored it.
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“We were too late,” Gideon’s voice rang over your phone. 
“Shit, she’s going to be devastated.” 
“Don’t tell her yet,” he asked.
“Course.”
You hung up and gathered Lila and Spencer and some of her things. 
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You got picked up by Derek and Detective Kim, and you sent Spencer and Lila on their way. 
“How are the two lovebirds?” Derek asked, exasperation and irritation clear in his voice. 
“Oh, they’re all great, never a dull moment where she isn’t trying to get into his pants,” you sighed as you three walked out of the paparazzo's apartment. 
“Where are we headed next?” you asked. 
“Lila’s. We need to bring more people to her, maybe even get her to a safehouse,” Kim sighed. A motorcycle started and before you knew it, you were against the car and groaning in pain. 
“Y/n! Are you alright?” Derek shouted. 
“Yeah, it just grazed,” You nodded, looking at the flesh wound the bullet had left behind. “Get to Kim,” you told him. You reached for your gun and shot after the motorcyclist but they got away. 
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After being bandaged up, you and Derek sped to Lila’s house to find Spencer and Lila soaked. 
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“I fell into the pool,” Spencer admitted sheepishly. 
“Sure, I’m sure there’s a bunch of photos of it,” you nodded sarcastically. You walked away, an uncertain heartbreak settling deep in your gut as you went through the photos, ripping them out, for his sake.
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Spencer felt awful. He had been rude to you, he’d gone against you, he’d kissed someone else. 
The entire time, all he could think about were the four times he’d kissed you. 
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One. 
You two were outside the lunch place he loved and you’d both spent the entire meal talking about the film. It was comfortable, and probably too domestic to be a first date but Spencer didn’t mind. He loved the way you and him were comfortable around each other. 
“So I’ll see you at work on Monday?” You smiled, that perfect smile that drove Spencer crazy. 
“Yes, you will see me at work on Monday,” he smiled, breathing out slowly. You chuckled, then wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down to kiss you. Your lips on his genuinely re-wired his entire being. He felt butterflies and heat run through him, until he kissed back. Then he knew that this was an addiction. That he wanted to kiss you every moment of every hour of every day for the rest of his life. 
You had to guide his hands to your hips and it was a bit of a laughing/ kissing thing, but it was amazing all the same. 
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Two. 
Spencer stood in your kitchen, grabbing his coat from the chair when you kissed him. This time he was prepared. His hands immediately went to your waist, large palms spanning over the navy colour of the sundress you were wearing. God you looked beautiful. 
Again, your lips on his was something he’d never get enough of. How perfect you felt. How beautiful you were. He was sure he was in love. 
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Three. 
You dragged him kicking and screaming to a farmer’s market, but in the end he’d enjoyed it. He’d enjoyed it because you’d actually kissed him twice. Once when he remembered something minute about you (How could he ever forget?) and another time when you’d simply wanted to. You and that damn sundress. 
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Four. 
You were at his apartment and you were on his lap. He had been painfully hard as you continued kissing him and slowly grinding down on him. 
“Do you want to…?” you asked, a hazy lust-filled smirk on your face. 
Spencer just nodded. 
“Do you have a condom?” You asked and chuckled when he sheepishly shook his head. “It’s fine, I’m on birth-control,” you smiled and Spencer just followed your lead. 
After what felt like hours of you just sinking down on his ridiculously large cock, you finally started moving. 
“Oh fuck,” you mumbled. “You’re so big,” you groaned into his ear. Spencer whimpered as you slowly moved up and down his length. 
As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he had thought about fucking you, a lot. Sometimes you were under him, sometimes you were over him, it didn’t matter. He wanted to fuck you. 
And that he did. 
After you fucked him on the couch, he turned it around and slammed into you with such vigour his couch moved. His fingers explored your core and once he ended up tasting you, he knew he couldn’t go back. He spent half an hour between your legs, licking and fingering you, moaning with you as if he was getting pleasure from it as well, which he was. 
Once the both of you were cleaned up you fell asleep in his bed with his arms firmly around you. The next morning you both smiled at each other, not exactly shy but still hesitant to talk about what had happened. Spencer knew that was the right moment to ask you, but he couldn’t. He wanted you, all of you. He wanted you to be his girlfriend, then eventually his fiancee, and eventually his wife.  
He was head over heels in love. 
And when you kissed him sweetly, nothing like the sex-fuelled kisses from the night before, he thought he’d died and gone to heaven. 
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“W-what happened?” Spencer asked, signalling to the bandage on your arm. 
“A bullet grazed me,” you shrugged. 
“A-are you okay?” he asked. 
“Fine,” you gritted out. You didn’t look at him, in fear of catching a glimpse of those damn puppy-dog eyes. 
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As Spencer apologised to Lila, you searched the house. 
The house was big, too big for one person to live here but you digressed. As you searched you gave yourself a moment to think over the events of the past 48 hours. 
“Who’re you?” A blonde woman asked from her seat at the vanity. 
“Who’re you?” you asked, pulling your gun. “Spencer!”
You could hear Spencer and Lila running to you. 
For the second time that night, you were on the floor bleeding. Great. The police officers out front started running into the house as Spencer reached you. She’d hit you in your chest. 
“Shit,” Spencer cursed. He pulled out his phone and called an ambulance. The officers took down Maggie and you were rushed to hospital. 
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Hours and hours of surgery later, you were awake with Spencer’s hand in yours. 
“Hi,” he smiled softly. 
“Hi.”
“I’m so sorry,” he sighed. “I was so stupid, I shouldn’t have let you walk away like that. I’m so sorry-”
“It’s alright,” you smiled. “I’m glad things worked out between you and Lila.”
Spencer’s face dropped. “I don’t want Lila. I want you. I’m in love with you. I only want you.”
Your heart sped up, you could hear it on the monitor. Both you and Spencer laughed. 
“Good. I’m in love with you too," you smiled once your laughter had subsided.  
He leaned down and kissed you softly. 
The fifth kiss. 
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criminal minds masterlist :)
navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, marvel, top gun, challengers, the bear, the hunger games, obx+)
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tojisxslvt · 6 months
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Make up, or break up.
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Summary: Toji comes home from a long day at work his mood completely off, yes Toji said whatever he wanted at all times but today he was unusually snappy, the last thing he said, had Y/n on the verge of giving up their relationship completely.
First person and sometimes Toji’s point of view and I dunno I say “You” sometimes but mostly in first person, try not to get confused.
Warning-degrading words, cursing, again Toji because he is a warning himself. Ykm by now I’m writing the most stomach turning smut there is for Toji.
A/N-I don’t feel like proof reading much but, I’ll do it enough.
Enjoy my little dilf lovers 😭
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Despite how slow today was, the sun seemed to go down a lot faster than it usual does. Toji still not being home while the kids destroyed our home, Toji brought them a can of silly string and now the couch and floor was covered with a silly slippery messy.
“Gumi!” I scold looking at the boy, whom of course answered with a shrug and a monotone expression his older sister smiling up at me, “we had a silly fight!” She insists answering for her brother making me huff angrily trying to get a grip.
“And you’ve made a silly mess! How are we gonna clean it?” Miki smiled while I pushed my hands through my hair finally scrubbing half of the goo off my couch with a scowl the kids going in the guest bedroom I had for them until things were final and I moved with Toji, which was a process itself.
Once I hear keys twist the door opened I perk up to see my tall muscular boyfriend walking into the house, instantly pushing his index finger into the loop of his tie, something was unusual about him, but it always was, I smile “welcome back how was work?” I ask, but Toji walked right by me after closing the door.
I blink turning my head to him “Toji?” I ask but he simply kicks off his shoes pulling the tie off completely, “Toji.” I say putting the rag down, he huffs in annoyance walking back towards the room “Fushiguro!” I yell causing him to snap his head toward me shooting me a cold look, “what.” He said, me hearing in his voice that he tried his hardest not to yell.
“You don’t hear me talking to you?” I say feeling offended by his response, his stare turns into a glare “Toji!” “Fuck off alright?! Just leave me the fuck alone!” He yells slamming his fist into the wall, “what the fuck is your problem! Don’t bring your nasty ass attitude here!” I yell feeling his anger latch onto me.
No way was I going to allow him to speak like this in my house, “oh shut up, if you would have just gave me a few fucking minutes to wind down! Yet you wanna have a whole conversation when it’s obvious I’m not in the fucking mood!” He shouts his fist balled, “when I speak to you! You speak the fuck back!” I say pointing at him.
“I don’t have to do shit fuck off.” He said bluntly, he then, walks away telling the kids to “get ready,” before putting all of his things back on, was he really leaving? I stand there watching him not knowing what to do as he pulled his shoes on and grabbed his Keys brushing past me.
“Toji..” I muttered clenching my fist tightly but he simply ignored me firing up my anger even more “you know what? You wanna go?! Then fucking go and don’t come back!” I shout having him pick Miki up saying simply “shut up.” Before him Tsumiki and Megumi leave out of the door.
I walk into my room slamming my door pissed, I didn’t do anything for him to blow up like that, I do so much without so much as a single glance of annoyance and he has the nerve to look at me with evil and annoyed eyes?
I flop onto my bed burying my face Into a pillow that smelled just like him, and finally the tears, I couldn’t believe this was happening then came the guilt, maybe I should have just left him alone.
After a while I pass out in a pool of my own tears.
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Toji walks back into the house food in hand,after maybe about three hours “go on walk in,” he instructed the kids as he held the door opened for the little munchkins that ran in he huffed closing the door behind him, his eyes Averted to the couch. Full of silly string mess.
He didn’t mean to go off on the girl, but sometimes his anger boiled over, a part of him Maturing he would always try to walk away. But today he blew up and he hated himself for it because out of all people, he blew up on you. He sighs putting the food down cleaning up the rest of the mess and when he was done he grabbed the food and walked into the room seeing you knocked out on the bed.
He softly comes up rubbing on my back with soft words as he pulled me into his chest after climbing into the bed, “I’m sorry [name..]” but when I opened my eyes I pushed against his chest coming to my senses, “get off of me,” I say trying to get out of bed but he just pulls me back.
“Please just relax,” “now you’re calm you wanna tell me to calm down?!” I say after sitting up, Toji huffs holding my wrist so I wouldn’t storm out “I know it was fucked up what I said, I didn’t mean to blow up like that..I’m telling you today..at work was rough, I walked away from you so I wouldn’t take it out on you..” he said pulling me closer.
I tear up and he pulls me into his chest, “I hate seeing you cry..” he admits cooing as he rocked with me “and knowing that I’m the one that made you cry makes this worse…” he said holding me tightly, his rough voice so soft as he spoke to me.
“Toji let me go..” “no.” He said “relax, you’re really starting to piss me off, can’t you see that I’m sorry,” he said his soft voice going back to being rough quickly.
I glare at him, of course I wanted to crumble at his very touch, but I didn’t want him to think I was that easy. “You think I give a fuck about pissing you off?!” I yell standing walking towards the door. Toji stands quickly pulling me towards him but I pull away “clearly not, whatever you want to do or say, say it here don’t take the shit out in front of my kids.” He instructed causing me to snatch my hand away.
“I’ll say whatever the fuck I want in my house!” I yell Toji’s grip on my arm tightens “I don’t give a shit what you do in your house. But when my kids are here try to act like a fucking adult,” he said his patient soft voice Turing back into the same rough voice that started all of this. I try to snatch my hand away but he simply pulls me by my waist.
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“You’re so fucking stubborn..” he said lifting my chin kissing my lips instantly shoving his tongue into my mouth; I melted gripping onto his shirt and in frustration I fought his tongue, but of course he won, grabbing the back of my head to hold me there as he sucked on my tongue maintaining eye contact.
I shiver feeling him pull back and instantly when he does I reach down unbuckling his pants, “instead of having an attitude all you had to do was ask for it~” he says keeping the eye contact that made my soul burn, he closes in the space taking a soft nibble of my bottom lip, while I reach my hand into his pants feeling just how hard he was.
Toji pulls back looking down at my hand lifting his shirt a bit revealing his toned torso, he bit his lip as I dropped to my knees, “you’re already so hard..~” I whispered as he helped me pull his boxers down just enough to where his cock sprung out.
I whimpered at the radiating heat I felt, “what can I say…arguing turns me on..~” he said pushing the tip of his dick against my lips, “open.” He demanded causing my mouth to open without a second thought taking only half of him in as the tip already touched the back of my throat causing my eyes to water, Toji gripped my hair as I wrapped my hand around whatever I couldn’t fit.
I crawl closer on my knees bobbing my head watching the part I was sucking glisten in the light with my spit while the part I couldn’t fit stay completely dried.
Toji took a breath “thaaat’s it..~” he mumbled out leaning his head back as he started to thrust up into my mouth causing me to hold his legs in a way to keep my balance. He starts to buck his hips faster, my chest heaving as I gag, I moan out bobbing my head again rubbing whatever I couldn’t fit in my mouth.
Toji pulled back panting as he looked down at my teary eyes drool seeping down my chin, “Toji..~” I start, “yeah yeah..” he said picking me up laying me on the bed my face pushed into the pillow. He yanks my pants and panties off causing me to yelp, he then pulls off his shirt watching how I rocked from side to side, my ass in the air, “please don’t make me wait..~” I say looking back at him.
Toji smirks and simply kisses my lower back jerking himself off mixing in my spit with his precum, he pulled my waist roughly pushing himself into me, I hiss biting hard on my lip as I pull the sheets off the corner of the bed from balling it up in my hand fight back a scream, “I know mama…I know..~” he cooed pulling back just to thrust his cock deeper into me. “Jussst let it out..~”
I let my lip go panting out long stands of moans “fuck! Toj-“ I cut myself off burying my face into the pillow as he leaned down holding his upper body up with his fist digging into the mattress.
Toji leaned down when he noticed my reactions, “look back at me baby..~ watch me..~” he added with a Smirk turning my head from the pillow peering down into my eyes, causing me to clench around him tighter, he’s so fucking sexy, and he knows it.
He leans down to me rolling his hips into a spot that made my body quiver, he lays his forehead on the side of my head panting into my ear causing me to whine out with each thrust.
“To..haa~ pleas..mph..~” I moan out failing to warn him about the climax I was quickly approaching yet the constant pounding in my spot wouldn’t allow me to think straight. Toji kisses my ear whispering, “go on..use your words..you had no problem doing so earlier right..~” he coos out through pants right into my ear.
I moan out loudly into the pillow hearing him chuckle ontop of me as I lift my head to catch my breath feeling my pussy squirt when he pulls out flipping me on my back wasting no time to shove himself inside of me causing me cover my mouth screaming out into my arm.
Toji looked down at me eyes low and lust filled as he grabbed both of my arms pinning them to the bed, “what’s wrong with being loud now huh..? What happened to saying whatever the fuck you want in your house hm?~” he said his breath shaky I arch my back my mouth hanging open as my head hit the headboard with each thrust.
“I’m close..~” I pant out as he leans down to me pecking my lips as he bucked his hips roughly into me, “I dunno mama..you haven’t been very good to me~” He said chuckling against my lips as my legs shivered against his waist.
“I’m..~ mm! I’m sorry please..~” I say into his ear burying my fingers into his hair as he rested his head onto my shoulder, Toji pushed his head into my neck sucking harshly on my neck, causing me to shiver even more moving my head so he had more room, but that only made him suck in a new spot as he slammed into me causing my head to spin.
“Toji please! I’m so close just let me..~” “at the same time then princess..mm..” he groaned a bit telling me he was close, he then lifted up pushing my leg up as he pushed into me roughly the sounds we made together would make anyone who could hear us feel embarrassed to even hear it.
I claw at the back of his hand that was holding my thighs tightly as I whine turning my head into the pillow biting on it as I let out multiple strings of moans and whimpers and finally he pushed in two more times before cumming into me deeply.
Instantly I cum as well pushing whatever was inside of me out in a mixture of our own cum.
Toji looks down at me with a cheeky grin dropping my legs just for me to wrap my legs around his waist pulling him down he smiles laying his head in my chest as I shivered under him panting resting my hand into his hair.
He hums kissing my breast, nuzzling his head between them, I blink my legs shaking while they were wrapped around him.
I really was sorry, I guess.
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pa1n-0f-l0ve · 1 month
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୨ৎ: 2015!Bill, dom!Bill, angry Sex, fem first person POV
While laying in the comfort of mine and Bill’s share bed the front door slams shut abruptly. I hear Bill’s thick German accent scream, “Fuck!” His heavy foot steps make their way up the stairs in a hurried matter.
“What happened Bill?” I frown, his tattooed hand pushes his messy blond hair back in stress.
“Tom happened! He won’t leave me alone about the “deadline” which isn’t real because he made it up!” He exclaims, clearly frustrated and angry. What better way to help him out than him taking it out on me?
Biting my lip in nervousness I decide to shoot my shot and tell him my idea. “You can take it out on me. You’d feel so much better..” I flush.
His dominant side immediately kicking in at the idea of getting his satisfaction and pleasure out of me, “Prinzessin you’re gonna drive me crazy with that look. Strip you panties off. Now. And no back talking or you’ll be punished.” He sneers, his brown eyes holding a predatory look, waiting to make his move on the submissive prey.
He made his way to me on the bed, his slender hands gripping at my waist as his lips met mine. The cold metal of his snake bites hitting my plump lips immediately. His pierced tongue dipping into my warm mouth, battling with my own. His hand gripped my cheeks aggressively,squeezing them tightly as he abused my mouth with his tongue.
Trying to regain his breath from the constant kissing he pants out, “Baby, ride against my bulge.. now.”
I nodded obediently, my bare clit sitting on top of his hard-on resting on his stomach. His veiny hands tightening on my waist, he slowly rocked my lower body against his throbbing cock. “Move for me princess. Make me feel so good!” Bill, whimpers out in his turned-on haze.
I obey Bill’s orders, rocking my hips slightly faster which made his finger tips dig deeper into my flesh. “Fuck yes angel, so goo- good.” He praises, his sweet pet names encouraging me farther.
Soon my pace is faster and quicker, his precum slightly oozing onto his stomach and my folds, before I knew it his cum was squirting all over his tattooed abdomen. “I’m not done with you, slut.” He grunted, his tone admirable yet aggressive at once.
His warm hands grabbing at my body, flipping me onto my back on the bed. He wrapped one hand around my throat while the other entertained his cock. Once he knew he was hard enough to penetrate me he took no hesitation to shove his veiny member into my tight heat.
His blond hair falling in-front of his face as he pounded into my welcoming pussy over and over. He thrusted so aggressively that I could see the shadow of his bulge in my lower belly, his hand pressing down on it teasingly over and over as soft whimpers left my mouth. My hands immediately tangling into his platinum hair and tugging as he used my body for his personal pleasure.
Soon, Bill reached his climax but instead of cumming in me, he came on me. The sticky seed spurting from the swollen head and onto my tummy and breasts as he came down from his high. “You always know just what I need doll. I love you so much.” He breaths out, exhausted from his orgasm.
“I love you too sir..” I flush, the use of the nickname making me feel vulnerable as Bill smiles at me running his fingers through my hair content-fully.
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sp0o0kylights · 2 months
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Part Eight
A03
We left off: Eddie has an injured leg, Gareth is concussed, there’s a now injured manticore in Hawkins and possibly a moving gate in the walls of the lab, which is storing mysterious, glowing green goo. Prior to all that, Steve was having a breakdown about leaving Hawkins brought on by his parents returning home.
Gareth has noticed Steve’s “crush” on Eddie, *all* of Hellfire is painfully aware of Eddie’s crush on Steve, and Hopper just showed up to the Byers in Scooby Doo pajamas.
Cue the music.
One minute Hopper was shaking a finger at the pile of children on the couch, spittle flying from his mouth as he demanded everyone both talk and shut up--
(“They can’t do both, Jim.”
“I don’t care Joyce, I--”
“Well I care, and you’re in my house, so I suggest you shut up.”
“Fine, but--”
“Jim!”
“I was shutting up!”)
--and the next Steve had wrapped Gareth’s own hands around a warm mug, quietly leaning into his ear to ask if he was okay.
Gareth nodded jerkily, blinking back to the present, fighting off the panic attack that had dogged him all night.
“Yup. I’m great--good! I’m totally good.”
Steve snorted (a gross but common Steve sound) but otherwise left Gareth with a squeeze of his shoulder, before taking the other mug he had over to Eddie.
Who, Gareth realized, was staring at Hopper with the resigned air of a man glaring down his own executioner.
“What I don’t understand,” Lucas was saying as Steve tried to get Eddie to take a mug, “is what the manticore’s guarding.”
“You didn’t hear the green goo story?” Dustin said conversationally, like this was a Tuesday and not the middle of the night after a monster attack, head craning around to look at his friend.
Gareth had to give it to the kid, he had balls of fucking iron to ignore the look Hopper was shooting his way.
“Green goo?” Hopper butted in, needing an answer but clearly not eager to hear it
(Behind Gareth, Steve had resorted to physically taking Eddie’s hands, and wrapping them around the mug. He kept them there, fingers over Eddie’s as he leaned in, whispering something into the older teen’s ear, clearly trying to get his attention off Hopper.
It didn’t seem to be working until Steve said--or did--something, and then suddenly Eddie was taking in a shuddering, wobbly breath, eyes darting to look up into Steve’s. He took the mug much the same way Gareth had, though he blanked his face out a hell of a lot faster.)
“Glowing green goo. It’s--wait, where’d that guy go, he explained it really well.” Dustin leaned his entire body out from the couch, looking towards the wall of Hellfire members. “Hey, you! Stuck Stewart!”
Grant and Jeff slid away from Stewart immediately.
Who pointedly dumbly towards himself, squawking out a startled, “Me?”
“Yes, you.” Dustin said, like this was a fucking gameshow. “Tell Hop what you told me.”
As Hopper turned to face them with a startled expression, it became evident that he was just now realizing the teenagers in the kitchen weren't the ones he had expected to encounter.
His gaze swept over them in a clinical assessment, as if memorizing their faces so he could write them up later. Each of them let out a sigh of relief when he moved onto the next person, before his eyes landed on Eddie--and stayed.
“Munson?” He hissed, causing half of Hellfire to flinch.
To Eddie’s credit, he didn't react. Just reclined in the chair like he owned it, and raised the mug of chocolate Steve had just let go of.
“Nice jammies, Hop.” He said in lue of a greeting.
“Ignore him.” Dustin demanded, in a tone that had Jeff and Grant both side eyeing him. “The glowing goo is the important thing here.”
He gestured with his hand in a 'get on with it' motion, shooting an impatient look at Stewart.
Who audibly swallowed.
“So there uh, there was a rumor…” Stewart started, the story coming out in jerky, hesitant waves.
He kept looking at Hopper as if the man would interrupt him at any minute, and Gareth couldn’t tell if he was hoping to be cut off or happy to be allowed to talk.
He got it all out though--the rumors about the goo, the weird trucks and people loitering around town.
How a friend (omitting, Gareth noted with muted amusement, that Mikey was both an adult and the Hideout’s bartender) put it all together, spun it up into some crazy conspiracy theory and fed it to half the town’s best gossips.
The entire time Stewart spoke, Hopper was staring Eddie down.
Hellfire didn’t miss it.
Joyce didn’t either, and even Jonathan looked a bit fidgety.
(The kids looked perfectly fine, but then, they didn’t seem to realize Hopper wasn’t exactly focused on the whole goo thing.)
Stewart’s story ended, tailing off awkwardly when it became clear he had nothing else to add, and that everyone was waiting for Hopper to say something.
“Jim…” Joyce started, tone low in warning, which seemed to kickstart the chief back to life.
“Right. So we have one group of dumbass teenagers who went into the lab on a dare,” Hopper drawled, in that “don’t you bullshit me” tone cops just loved to use, “a second group of dumbass children who went in because they apparently, haven’t learned their lesson about meddling in government affairs, and Munson here—-”
Hopper flicked a hand at Eddie.
“—-was involved because his friends called him for help and not because the lab is the perfect spot to get high with a large number of people. Do I have that right?”
They all exchanged a nervous look with one another, but no one said a word.
Hellfire as a whole was used to getting their shit rocked by teachers, shop owners, and occasionally, the cops (usually an idiot who wanted to throw their weight around by busting up band practice or searching a car for drugs).
Pissing off the Chief of police though? That was an activity Eddie typically did solo.
And boy was Hopper pissed off, fury building waves as he leaned in like a predator opening its mouth right before it ate its prey.
“This shit? The Upside Down, monster shit? Isn’t something I screw around with. Especially not when my daughter’s involved. So we’re going to try this again, and this time, I want to hear the truth.”
He held up a hand to halt the explosion of protests from the kids section without bothering to even look in their direction.
“From Munson.” He finished, crossing his arms over his chest.
Eddie answered by taking a noisy slurp from his mug.
Gareth winced, but this sort of back and forth was par the course for a Munson-Hopper encounter, and he knew better than to get in the middle of it.
Steve, apparently, did not.
“Stewart just told you the truth.” He said flatly, giving Hopper a look that was just as stubborn as the chief’s own.
Who very much did not appreciate it.
“Harrington--”
“You said it yourself.” Steve interrupted, holding firm against the chief’s scowl. “The Upside Down isn’t something we screw around with.”
“Tell him, Steve!” Dustin crowed from the couch.
“Shut it.” Steve and Hopper responded in unison, and then did a remarkable job of pretending they hadn’t said a word.
(Gareth had the worst vision of Steve in an alternate life as a police officer. A deputy maybe, with shaved hair, constantly chewing on tobacco and fucking up poor people’s lives. He’d probably have an obnoxious nickname. Like Gator or some shit.
Thank God Hellfire had gotten there first.)
“I was there when they called Eddie.” Steve continued, before Hopper could growl something out. “If we were all doing drugs, we’d still be high, and Eddie wouldn’t have teeth marks in his thigh.”
There was yet another pause, in which Gareth was fairly sure the tension was going to give him a heart attack.
Within it, Hopper did a double take, noting Eddie’s injury for the first time--and how he only had one pant leg, the other replaced by a stark white bandage and pale skin.
“Fine.” He grit out, teeth clenched so tight Gareth thought they might shatter against each other. “Is there anything else I should know about the ‘goo story’ then?”
“You missed the part where El wouldn’t let us call you, because she felt you wouldn’t listen to her.” Mike snarked from El’s right.
“Wonder why.” Max added darkly, from her own spot on El’s left. “Don’t you have a walkie? Why didn’t you answer the code red?”
Apparently, they had decided Steve had won this entire exchange, and it was safe to dogpile on their own displeasure. Gareth was absolutely astounded that the glare Hopper turned their direction didn’t melt them all on the spot.
(Likely, given how this all seemed to be a normal encounter for everyone involved, they were used to it.
Gareth was very much not.)
Hopper whipped his head around to Mike, anger still simmering, “And I’m sure you, Michael Wheeler, didn’t have any qualms about not calling me.”
“He did not want me to go either.” El said bluntly. “I told him you would not listen, and if either of you stopped me, people would die.”
She nodded then, towards Stewart, as if to indicate he was one such person.
For the second time that night, Stewart pointed at his own chest, eyes saucer wide.
“No one else,” El finished grimly, “will die.”
The chief dragged his hands through his hair and then down his face.
“Alright.” He forced out. “I get your point-- but! We’re talking about how you went about this later. Not now!” He added, before the kids could erupt. “Later!”
“So what are we going to do about the Manticore?” Mike spat the question more so than he said it, but Gareth was happy someone was bringing that part up.
Because monster problem or not--what the fuck were they going to do about it?
Since the Chief of Police was here, did that mean the entire police force knew there were monsters in Hawkins? Was there some kind of--monster hunting squad that went around at night?
The more he thought about it the more questions he had, and in turn, the more Gareth’s anxiety threatened to mutiny once again, which was not helped by the concussion he was positive he’d acquired.
Hopper scoffed, “We are not doing anything. We are going back to bed after I call your parents and tell them you’ve been out all night!”
Groans filled the room, the sound of children facing a future grounding, en mass.
“Then,” he continued loudly, “I’ll call Owens.”
“And if Owens doesn’t do anything?” Dustin challenged. “‘Cause he clearly didn’t clean up well last time. Are we just going to let a manticore run around? What if more come through? What if--”
“Just because none of you trust me doesn’t mean I don’t do my job,” Hopper interrupted, “which includes knowing what to do if this shit came back. We adults did discuss that after last time, believe it or not.”
Gareth was old enough to school the doubt off his face, but the kids had no such qualms.
“What Hop means is that we need to have a little more faith in him.” Joyce soothed, and Gareth noticed that unlike a lot of adult men he’d been around, Hopper let her. “He’ll make sure it’s taken care of.”
“This just means we’re waiting until he falls in a hole again.” Mike stage whispered to Will, who coughed hard to hide his laugh.
“There aren’t any holes this time!” Hopper screeched, voice rising in pitch.
“Okay, okay, enough.” Joyce pacified, moving to stand in the middle of the room (notably,between the harpy children and Hopper). “What’s important is that everyone lived, we know there’s a thing in the lab, and that no one is going back for it until it’s dead. Agreed?”
She paused, and when no such agreements came, hardened her voice in a way that had every person under eighteen snapping to attention. “Agreed!?”
“Yes.” Chorused the children (and at least three members of Hellfire.)
“Good.” Joyce nodded so hard her hair bounced. Putting her hands on her hips, she added; “Now we start the process of getting all of you home.”
“Someone get me the phone, we’re starting with you Wheeler.” Hopper tacked on.
Mike just flung himself back into the couch with a dramatic eye roll and a not so subtle raise of his middle finger.
“As for the rest of you, get out.” Hopper said, weaving past Steve to get to the phone in the kitchen.
A second later, when it was clear no one had moved, he poked his head around the corner.
“Do I need to call all your parents too?” He demanded, as Hellfire dumbly stood there. “Get!”
Hellfire got.
xXx
Hopper grabbed Steve right before he’d left, muttering something about needing to talk to him and Jonathan.
Alone.
Eddie chose to hang back, propping himself on the van's hood, and Gareth, not wanting to go home, opted to keep him company
“Hopper’s not going to eat him.” He whispered, when two minutes dragged into seven and the fidgeting got to be too much for him.
“True, but he's catching hell because Hopper's not buying his story." Eddie retorted, voice equally hushed.
As if raising their voices might summon Hopper and his fiery temper right to them.
"It's nothing we haven't heard before," Gareth remarked, resisting the urge to suggest once more that Eddie get off his leg and go sit in the car.
“There weren't monsters before.” Eddie countered, mouth around a hangnail.
“Doesn’t matter.”
“It might.” Eddie muttered darkly. “If Hopper makes it matter, it fucking might.”
“How the hell is Hopper going to make it matter?" Gareth mused aloud, though deep down, he already knew.
Eddie was Hellfire's guardian, both within and beyond the school walls. Being with him meant having a shield to hide behind, protection against the casual cruelty the people of Hawkins were so fond of.
Sure, there were mean kids, nasty teachers, and even the occasional unpleasant gas station attendant, but they weren't the real issue—not by a long shot.
It was the ones who looked at Eddie and truly believed some of the bullshit.
Hopper didn’t act like the church folk. The ones who sent their pastors and youth leaders out on the warpath, knocking on doors and setting up outside of businesses.
Those individuals had attempted to drive away Eddie's friends before, thinking they could "rescue them" in the process—Gareth himself had once endured a week of being stalked by some idiot he had stood up to in Eddie's defense.
The man had made it his mission, and Gareth, too young at the time to know better, had felt helpless as every adult he turned to dismissed the blatant stalking.
All because that "nice" youth leader claimed he just wanted to help.
The asshole had practically hunted Gareth down-- always making himself known, always accompanied by a friend or two. A couple of little comments in his pocket, ready and waiting, and a grin that didn’t match his eyes.
The words he said weren’t threats, but the tone he said them in was.
Eddie got it worst of all of them though, when the church crowd started.
Their attention wasn’t always on him, and truthfully they hadn’t really put any real energy into their own bullshit for a few years now--but they always came back to him.
Like he was an old and favored chew toy, and if they just tried hard enough, they’d crack him in two.
Which meant this wasn’t about what Hopper said.
It’s what he could do.
Thankfully Steve appeared before Eddie could spiral further, looking surprised to see them still waiting.
“Oh.” He ran a hand through his hair as he came down the stairs. “You guys didn’t have to stay.”
Eddie shot him a flat look.
"And leave you alone with Hopper?"
"I wasn't exactly alone, but thanks."
Steve's smile was slight, tinged with relief, and Eddie fell right into him, leaning into Steve's space (and making a show of his limp as he did).
“We were going to ask if you’re coming back with us anyway. Figure you might not want to go back to your place after tonight.” He said, as if he and Gareth had discussed any such thing.
You waited outside just to tell me that?" Steve asked, a hint of amusement in his voice as he gently pushed Eddie back. "Ed, you should be sitting in your car, off that leg."
(Not that Steve wanted Eddie to go far, Gareth noted with his own amusement, as Steve stepped to follow.)
"I tried telling him that, but he wouldn't listen!" He tattled to Steve, simply because he could.
He got a middle finger behind Eddie’s back in retaliation.
“I figured it’d piss Hopper right off if I offered you a place to crash right after he warned you away from me.” Eddie said, ignoring the both of them.
“He didn’t warn me away.” Steve said, beginning the process of herding the older teen into his van.
Eddie let out a snort. "Seriously? That wasn't a full-blown 'rethink your life choices, hanging out with trash like him' speech?”
“You’re not trash.”
Eddie snorted again, hasher this time before glancing away.
He was entirely unprepared for Steve to reach out, catching him by the arm much the same way Hopper had caught him.
“Eddie.” Steve said, abruptly serious. “You’re not trash.”
He said it like he meant it, voice low, eyes drilling into Eddie’s.
Gareth couldn't tear his own eyes away, even though that stare wasn't even intended for him.
“No one here is trash,” Steve declared firmly. “Hopper was just asking if Jonathan and I could babysit El for a couple of nights while he’s working. But even if he had tried to tell me I couldn't hang out with you, I would have told him to shove it. Like you said earlier today—we don’t abandon our friends, and we don’t leave them to deal with stuff alone.”
Gareth knew his best friend like the back of his hand and that level of honesty?
It was too much for Eddie, and normally, he’d run.
Was in fact, a little more than infamous for bolting when confronted about his own insecurities.
Maybe it was because Eddie's leg was in no shape for him to run, or maybe it was the reassuring grip of Steve's hand on his arm. It could even have been the intensity in Steve's gaze, as if he could convince Eddie of anything just by staring at him--but Eddie didn’t move.
He didn't even avert his gaze, although Gareth half expected him to.
“If you say so.” He tried to sing-song the words but they fell flat. “Let’s go, the Munson couch awaits us.”
Steve didn’t say anything about how Eddie pulled himself away, backing out of range.
He watched him though.
Even after Eddie had turned around, waving a hand at Gareth to get into the drivers seat.
Steve kept watching until Gareth nudged him out of it, murmuring a quiet “Come on, dude” to get him going too.
Saw the little frown line burrow its way into Steve’s forehead, like he’d figured out part of a puzzle that had long evaded him, and didn’t like the answer he’d come too.
(Gareth himself didn’t have time for any such revelations, given he faced the monstrous task of driving Eddie’s van.
His learners permit quaked in his wallet at the mere thought, but somehow, they made it back in one piece anyway.)
xXx
Steve had reassured them that feeling restless was normal after….
Well.
After.
(There wasn’t a word strong enough to capture the intensity of the last few hours.
Gareth eventually stopped trying, accepting it as a blur of horror, anxiety, and impending dread. It felt like a nightmare that others remembered vividly but faded for him, like a movie becoming less real once you left the theater.)
Their conversation centered around going through the last few years, Steve filling in holes that made life make a hell of a lot more sense compared to all the bullshit the government had come up with.
None of it sounded real, and several pieces had Eddie and Gareth both gawking, but after the lab?
Not a part of it could be easily discounted.
Gareth couldn’t pinpoint when he finally succumbed to sleep.
Hadn’t intended too, and knew immediately upon clawing back to reality that his back was in a world of hurt from the way he’d curled into Wayne’s ancient armchair.
It was still dark outside, the lights warm on the inside of the trailer, and he figured he couldn’t have been out for long.
The blurry red 5:05 from his watch confirmed his suspicions, and Gareth got two seconds to wonder if this is his life now--catching whatever sleep he can in weird little bursts-- before harsh whispering picked up to his left.
The Munson’s living room was small. Small enough for Eddie to know better about how the sound carries, even if he was whisper-fighting.
Or at least, whisper-arguing, anyway.
“I just wish you’d see yourself the way everyone else sees you.” Steve was saying, sounding both bitchy and confused. Like he couldn’t quite believe he was having such a stupid conversation, but was going to point out the obvious anyway.
Eddie wasn’t doing much better, his words as sharp as the knife he’d used to stab the manticore.
“What, as the town freak? The local satanist? The ugly queer who's out to steal the children?”
Gareth managed to sneak a peak in time to see Eddie’s face twisted in disgust.
“Not those assholes--the ones that know you. Everyone that matters.” Steve countered, easily and immediately. “The Hellfire Club, Wayne, Dustin.”
There was a pause, but he could have sworn he heard Steve follow up with a quiet but hopeful, “Me.”
Gareth twisted ever so slightly, giving himself an eyeful of the room.
Both his friends sat on the couch facing each other. They were close, like they’d been sharing snacks or body heat before things had gone south, Eddie’s hands nearly missing smacking into Steve’s face as he gestured.
“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.” Steve continued doggedly.
Eddie’s hands froze in air, before he could make whatever gesture he’d intended.
“What?”
“I said I’m sorry.” Steve repeated, that painful sincerity Gareth would have never guessed him capable of on full display. “For the part I played in calling you all that shit. You’re none of those things, Eddie. You’re the opposite of all of it.”
The hands dropped into Eddie’s lap, like twin birds shot out of the sky.
“I am, though.” He muttered.
Steve’s frown deepened, his reassurance quick. “No, you’re not.”
“Yeah, Steve. I am.”
“Okay, fine.” Angry, Steve leaned forward into Eddie’s space.
Backed into the side of the couch and wall as he was, it trapped Eddie quite nicely.
“I know the parents down at the church don’t know the difference between D&D and actual demons, but I do. So unless you suddenly learned how to be quiet about fucking ritual sacrifice of all things, then I refuse to buy that you’re a literal Satanist and not just engaging in the drama.”
Gareth saw the moment Eddie realized he was pinned, that he wasn’t getting out of his conversation without shoving Steve back.
Knew this was building into a blow up before Eddie’s mouth even opened.
“I’m not a Satanist, but I definitely am queer.” He shot back, eyes hard. “So you can shove whatever grand ideas you’re having about my character back up your ass.”
Gareth hadn’t moved much, years of living with his siblings making it possible to watch what’s happening without alerting anyone in the room that he was awake, but he almost ruined it with how quickly he sucked in his own breath.
Steve was a good guy.
Had been a good guy to them, but there have been plenty of other “good guys” Gareth knew who suddenly weren’t so great the second Eddie’s sexuality came up.
It’s why Gareth himself hadn’t often admitted to his own muddled sexuality, too afraid of getting the same bullshit aimed his way.
Why would anyone want to pursue men, after watching more than a few realize they liked Eddie and promptly lose their shit so hard they became a danger to any man who so much as looked at them the wrong way?
It was terrifying--and so was the realization that Gareth can’t kick Steve’s ass. 
He doesn’t want to even try, but gets himself ready for emotional upheaval anyway--and whatever may come after.
Even if they’re all dead on their feet from fighting a literal monster.
‘Excellent fucking timing Eds.’ He thought sourly, despite the guilt of thinking it. It’s not Eddie’s fault--and Steve’s reaction, whatever it may be, isn’t either.
'God does it suck to be gay in a rural ass, small town.'
Thankfully, Steve doesn’t pull away.
Doesn’t act like Eddie’s got a contagious disease like some of the basketball team does, or like it’s his God given duty to either rid the earth of him now that Eddie’s finally admitted to what half the town has accused him of being, or have some violent crisis over his own clearly repressed gay crush. 
Is still very much in Eddie’s space, even if he’s being awfully quiet--for long enough that Gareth can see Eddie start to shut down.
“Okay.” Steve said finally, clearly knowing he needs to say something but seemingly struggling to figure out what, “But you’re not evil, and you’re definitely not stealing children, so you’re beating out the US government.”
“Oh boy, I beat out the government that’s kidnapping and torturing people! Such a high bar.”
Steve winced. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Yeah? What did you mean then?” Eddie challenged. “We both know you’re not the kind to want to associate with the queers.”
“I didn't, I--” Steve took a breath, fumbling and knowing it. “I know I've been an asshole in the past, and I also know I was wrong."
He stared hard at Eddie. "I don’t care if you’re gay. That doesn’t, that shouldn’t--matter.”
Eddie met his gaze. 
“I don’t believe you.” 
Between them sat all the times Steve, or a former friend of his, decided a random victim was queer. The knowing smirks and taunts that followed after they spewed out various slurs.
How some of the rumors they started stuck around. 
Steve had never really engaged with a lot of the bullying people often attributed to him as King of the Jockstraps, but he wasn't an innocent bystander either, and Gareth couldn't fault Eddie for challenging that change of heart. 
Even now, after Steve had long vacated his throne. 
“Well that sucks for you then, doesn’t it?” Steve snapped. “Because I’m not going anywhere, Munson. You can mack on some dude all you like, and I’m still going to be there to remind you you’re not evil for doing it. Or for being into nerdy shit and terrible music!”
“My music isn’t terrible!” Eddie screeched automatically.
Gareth anticipated Eddie calling out Steve on his obvious bait—seriously, that wouldn’t have worked in a game even with a nat 20—but found himself underestimating Steve's bantering skills as their ex-jock just plowed right ahead.
“It is! It’s just--screaming. Screaming with loud ass guitars!”
“Oh my God, I am going to sit you down and make you listen to so many albums. The screaming is a core part of the range of emotions in the songs--”
“Range? Eddie there isn’t any range, it’s just dudes who are angry--”
“Fuck you, it is not!” Eddie was howling, both of them too into their argument to remember they were trying to be quiet to begin with.
“I bet you five dollars! Five entire dollars, that you could not find me a singular song I like out of your entire metal collection.”
“Ten dollars! And the largest Pizza this shithole town has to offer!”
“Deal!” Steve shouted, chest heaving.
They breathed together for a moment, before the tension between them fizzled out, fading into something more uncertain.
Delicate, even though Gareth was fairly certain Steve had expertly maneuvered Eddie right where he wanted him.
Eddie seemed to realize it too, folding back into himself as he tugged a finger around his hair, pulling it in front of his face.
“You really wouldn't care if I kissed a guy in front of you?” Eddie's question isn't overtly vulnerable, but Gareth knows better.
He understands the significance of this.
Of Steve’s acceptance, more than anyone else's.
The jock had become so deeply bonded to them—all of them—that the rejection would wound Eddie in a way few could truly understand. Crack his otherwise impenetrable shield, the ricochet tearing through a substantial portion of his resilience.
“And I'd probably tell you to find a room, but hey, I said that to Tommy and Carol too,” Steve retorts, nudging Eddie's thigh.
Eddie rewards him with a small smile
Steve seems to know more is needed, and offers it up right alongside his heart. “I’m serious. I know I kinda butchered it but--the queer thing shouldn’t be a problem to begin with. It’s stupid that it is.”
"Steven Harrington, did I just witness personal growth?" Eddie teased, his smile widening. "What's next, admitting that college sports are ridiculous?"
“Don’t be a dick,” Steve scoffed, but his own smile mirrored Eddie’s as he looked away. 
Despite his head still partly tucked into his arm, Gareth found himself grinning.
It was a welcome relief after an otherwise horrific night.
Sensing it was now or never, Gareth made a show of untangling himself, stretching upward with a moan that startled both Eddie and Steve.
“Be careful saying that shit, Steve,” He said, jerking a thumb towards his best friend. “He’ll take it as an invitation to make out with people in front of you.”
Eddie gasped, hand flying over his heart in mock offense.
“I would never!”
“He’s a real horndog, once he even tried to make out with a guy on stage on top of my drumset.” Gareth continued, sticking out his tongue.
He deserved the pillow thrown his way but Gareth took the hit with grace, laughing as Eddie huffed at him.
“For the last time I wasn’t making out with that guy, he was trying to punch me!”
“With his mouth?”
“With his head, which you damn well know."  Eddie accused, clawing blindly for another pillow. "Gareth you are shameless, how long have you been listening in!?”
“As much as I enjoy the calming effects of mindless screaming, I'd wager it was when you guys conveniently forgot I was in the room."
“I take it you uh, know?” Steve injected hesitantly, eyes moving between Eddie and Gareth and oh--oh, he was being protective.
'That’s cute.' Gareth thinks.
Even if he’s rolling his eyes at the very idea that he posses any kind of threat.
“Dude, I clocked Eddie before he clocked me.” He said, just to take some heat from Eddie--and because it was one of the few opportunities where he could say it. “We’ve spent many a math period discussing if Sting was hotter than Axl Rose.”
If Eddie can be brave, Gareth could too.
“You did not.” Eddie spits back, the offense mounting. “You absolutely did not clock me first you lying liar--”
“Oh.” Steve blinked, finger flicking out between them as if he’s connected two dots and feels awfully stupid about not seeing it before. “I uh, I didn’t, are you guys--”
And oh, the horror that crashes into Gareth when he figured out what Steve was asking.
“No! God no.” Gareth shuddered, delighting in the way Eddie’s jaw crashed down at the sight. “And if I ever consider it, I need you to take me out back and shoot me, Steve. Right between the eyes, for the greater good.”
“Wow Gary, just stick a knife in my back why don’t you--”
“I’m gonna be real,” Steve cut in, before they could fake-argue their way into a real fight, “I never actually thought about liking both. Guys and girls, I mean.”
He blushed, as both Gareth and Eddie turned to look at him.
“Oh Stevie,” Eddie cooed, “there are so many more options than just "liking both.”
He made air quotes with his fingers, attention immediately diverted away from murdering Gareth with whatever objects he could grab. 
Steve gave him a side eye that was more than well deserved.
“I feel like I don’t want to know.” He said flatly.
“Too late.” Gareth told him, resigned. “You get to hear the speech now.”
“There’s a speech?”
“Steve, it's me. Of course there’s a speech.” Eddie tutted, resettling himself on the couch so that he’s sitting cross legged. “It’s an hour long so strap yourself in big guy, we have a lot of ground to cover!”
Crisis firmly averted, Gareth curls back up in the chair, tired smile on his face as Steve and Eddie go right back to bantering, the tension having vanished from the room.
This is a rare outcome, given their life and the world they live in, but one Gareth’s incredibly thankful for.
Can’t quite believe it, but then, King Steve had surprised a lot of them ever since he’d hung up his crown.
Perhaps Hellfire was a good influence on people after all.
xXx
Bonus
Back at the Byers, outside on the front porch, Hopper and Joyce were arguing over a cigarette.
(They both believe they’re being very quiet about it, but the pillow Jonathan had jammed over his ears said otherwise.)
“Remind me to make you work on your approach with disciplining children.” Joyce was saying, as she snatched the cigarette out of Hopper’s hands.
“What?! I thought that went pretty well considering they broke back into the lab and almost killed themselves.” He responded, waiting until she’d taken a deep inhale before trying to get it back.
“And I’m sure taking potshots at the poorest kid in the room was a necessary part of that process. It’s probably written down in the police handbook, even.”
“I wasn’t taking potshots Joyce--”
“No, of course not, you were just throwing random criticism and assumptions around, willy nilly and--oh, wait, that’s the exact definition of a potshot--”
“He deals drugs! Look me in the eyes and tell me Munson doling out weed doesn’t make more sense then the lot of them chasing down some--some goo story!?”
There’s a weighty pause, in which one can only imagine Joyce Byers face says more words than her mouth ever could.
It was very impactful.
“I mean--okay, maybe not our kids, but the teenagers?” Hopper’s voice dives into a disbelieving kind of whine, reserved for those who are aware the point they’re arguing may in fact, be wrong, but are desperately defending it anyway. “Come on. Drugs is the clear answer!" 
“Even if that was what was happening, then you shouldn’t be discussing it in a room full of children who have survived what those kids have, Jim. It could have been a separate conversation, given in a much calmer and less threatening tone of voice.”
“Oh my God, Joyce--”
“Don’t you ‘oh my God!’ me, you asked for lessons on being a better parent and I am holding you to them!”
There’s a brief scuffle over the cigarette, as both seem to realize Joyce is letting it smoke out in her hand.
She does not stop talking however, even as their hands slap at each other. 
“That includes parenting the teenagers in this town, because in case you haven’t noticed, you’re the Chief of police! So you signed up to see them all at their worst, and you get to deal with the fallout of that!”
“Fine! Fine. I’ll apologize to the goddamn high school drug dealer. Is that what you want!?”
“Yes!”
Another pause, this one filled with that awkward sort of tension when an argument has fizzled out, and neither party knows quite where they stand with each other yet.
“What voice am I supposed to use?” Hopper mused, finally winning the bid for the cigarette and jamming it into his mouth.
“Anyone except the grumbly bear voice.”
“The grumbly bear voice?”
“You know,” Joyce drops her own voice in a comical rendition of Hopper’s, “How dare you kids run off! You’ll be the death of me and this town!”
She laughs, and Hopper, shockingly, laughs along with her.
“I don’t sound like that.” He defends, bumping Joyce gently with his shoulder, and she in return, bumps him right back.
Both of them grinning, both of them blushing a little.
They keep talking, the cigarette eventually put aside and forgotten as they do.
Truth be told, they hadn’t needed it--but the excuse was nice.
(Inside, Jonathan rolled the pillow on top of his face in a suffocation attempt, unsure of what he’d done in life to deserve all this but desperately wishing he didn’t have to listen to his mother flirt.
Or worse--Hop flirting back.)
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Text
Keith stares.
Constantly.
He always has. Even at the Garrison, Lance can remember him just staring. Endlessly. Like he was looking right through you, or like he was staring straight into your soul. Sometimes both at once. He’d never spoken one word to Lance before they went to space, but Lance remembers that stare with complete clarity. (Probably because he was on the other end of it more than he’s willing to admit, with all his attempts to get Keith’s attention.)
The staring doesn’t stop when they get to space. It doesn’t stop when they accept their roles as teammates, when Keith finally starts participating in their (totally justified!) rivalry, when they begrudgingly decide that maybe they can peel back on the arguing, a little. When they realise how well they work together. When they start working together on purpose, and some of those stares come with a small smile, a quirk of the lips, really, that brightens indigo eyes and shows the tiniest peek of crooked incisors. (When tragedy strikes, and the stare is blank. After tragedy, when the stare only gets blanker, and they don’t talk about what happens next but when Lance comes into his room after days of no response, sits with him quietly, brushes the tangles out of his hair and reminds him there are still reasons for him to get up. When they really become a team, just the two of them, red and black and the leader and his right hand.)
When the stares only gets softer and softer, and when Lance is the subject of them more and more frequently.
“What?” Lance snaps one day, frustrated and embarrassed and tired of being the only one that Keith looks at so closely. “What are you even looking at? You’re always staring at me, man, like you’re trying to fuckin’ read my soul, or something. It’s weird.”
Lance feels bad as soon as he says it. It’s defensive and mean and he tenses, preparing for Keith’s upcoming scowl, the argument.
But it doesn’t come.
Instead Keith smiles. Not one of his quick ones, a barely-there quirk of the lips, but a real grin, wide enough to make his eyes squint and face brighten. The fondness bleeds from him; Lance couldn’t miss it if he was the densest person alive.
Slowly, like he’s given Lance time to back away, he reaches foreword and tucks Lance’s hair behind his ears, even though it’s too short for that and doesn’t do anything, even though it’s clearly all about the gesture, an excuse to touch Lance gently.
Lance’s breath stutters on his inhale. Keith doesn’t pull away, resting his hand on the side of Lance’s cheek, not quite cupping it but not quite not cupping it, either.
“God, I’m so lucky,” Keith murmurs, almost too quiet for Lance to hear. (But no. Not impossible. Keith could’ve said it at one decibel and Lance would have strained himself to injury trying to hear it.)
“What?” Lance asks hoarsely, well aware his face is flaming.
Keith only smiles wider. “How could I not stare at you?” he asks, like Lance isn’t losing his whole mind.
Lance clears his throat. Then again, and again. And a fourth and fifth time for good measure because what the fuck.
“Keith, what — what’s going on —”
“I am so lucky,” Keith repeats, firmer this time. He has the same stupid look on his face, like he cannot help but he besotted with Lance, somehow. He opens his mouth again and Lance knows that if he has to hear whatever mushy thing Keith has cooked up then he is going to melt into a puddle of flaming goo. Lance shoots out and slaps his hand over Keith’s mouth.
“Stop speaking,” he orders, face flaming. “Explain what the hell has gotten into you.”
“Those are opposite instructions,” Keith says, muffled, because he is a jerk. His eyes are sparkling in amusement.
“I am going to whoop your ass, Kogane.”
“Fine, fine.” He pulls Lance’s hand off his face and then links it in his, holding them in his lap. He rubs his thumb over Lance’s knuckles as he speaks. “You remember the mall food court? Two days ago?”
Lance tilts his head. “Yeah?” He doesn’t know what the hell that has to do with anything. They had a supply run a couple days ago, loading up on cleaning mods and food supplies and million other things, and he and Keith had stopped for lunch at the food court slash restaurant.
“You, uh, you remember that waiter?”
Lance frowns, trying to picture a waiter. All he can really remember is how Keith had laughed so hard at one of his jokes that soda had spewed out of his nose. He feels bad, but he can’t picture their waiter at all.
“No?”
Keith scowls. It’s such a stark difference from his sappy look before that it’s startling. “That weirdo, stuck up shithead who wouldn’t leave you alone. He called you pretty boy three separate times.”
Vaguely, Lance remembers some light flirting as the waiter set down the cheque. He can’t even picture the guy’s face.
“I mean, not really. I get called pretty boy a lot.”
He hadn’t meant it as a joke, but it makes Keith laugh. He looks relieved, like he’s been worrying about Lance and the waiter.
Like he’d been jealous.
The sappy look is back on his face. “Just made me think, is all.”
Lance’s throat is dry again. The air is charged, and Keith is staring again, eyes tracing every inch of Lance’s face.
Something is going to change tonight. He can feel it.
“Think about what?”
He’s leaned closer without realising. Keith smiles, noticing, and his hand comes back up to Lance’s cheek. This time he cups it blatantly, running the edge of a calloused thumb over Lance’s cheekbones.
“How lucky I am,” he murmurs, repeating his sentiment from earlier, “that we’ve got such a pretty boy on our team. On my team.”
Lance face flames. His first instinct is to deny it, vehemently, to ask Keith what the hell his deal is. Something ugly rears in his head, something hurt — how dare Keith make fun of him like that. How dare he mess with Lance about something he’s sensitive about.
But there’s not an ounce of meanness on Keith’s face. He’s looking at Lance in a way that can only be reverent, like Lance is the only person on the castle, the only person ever.
He remembers all of a sudden that Keith is the most honest person he knows. Keith, who can’t lie if he tries, who’s emotions are written all over his face all the time, who’s easy to rile up because he wears his heart on his sleeve, who puts every ounce of effort he has into everything he does. Who fights this war even though it’s hard for him because he loves everyone so much.
Lance blinks, and is more surprised than he should be to find his face wet. Keith’s face creases a little in concern, and he gently wipes the tears from Lance’s cheek.
“What’s wrong?”
Lance laughs wetly, more incredulous than anything.
“Mullet, if you don’t kiss me right this fucking second —”
Keith laughs. He doesn’t hesitate a second more, leaning in and pressing his lips to Lance’s, gently at first, then like he can’t get enough.
His eyes are closed, as he kisses.
Lance almost misses the staring.
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joi-me-hoi-me-noi · 2 months
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Hi, I was wondering if you could do a Nanami x Reader who is like Tiana (from Disney's Princess and the Frog)? I love JJK/Disney and the ship is NanamixTiana has been living in my brain rent-free.
A/n: NGL I LOVEEEEE EVERYTHING ABOUT THAT SHIP BRO!! TIANA IS SUCH A QUEEN!! AND WITH NANAMI!??? power couple... POWER COUPLE!! I ALSO LOVE THE MOVIE SO MUCH AND I USED THE ENDING AS A REFERENCE TO TIANA! but I got you boookie <3
NANAMI x READER
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· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·
It was Satoru's idea to invite him out to dinner since one of his best friends finally got the restaurant of their dreams.
"Come on Nanami. It'll be fun."
Kento, of course, is hesitant to go with him since Satoru's idea of 'fun' was different than his. Reluctantly, he entered the restaurant with his coworker's arm around his shoulder, leading him inside. There was live performance on stage while they were getting settled in their reserved seats. A beautiful person walks onto the stage, singing and dancing to the rhythm.
"That's them, right there."
Gojo tilts his glass towards the person on stage. They were absolutely stunning and had an amazing voice. Their stage performance was phenomenal.
"They're single."
Gojo whispers in his ear before leaning away and getting a stern look from Kento.
"Just saying." Gojo continues to sip on his drink, enjoying the show.
Soon the performance ended, and the lights come on. The band goes back to their normal hype jazz routine, and everyone resumes their conversations.
"Hey Satoru." He stands from his seat immediately, accepting the hug from the person.
"Hello Y/n, thank you for the invite."
Their e/c eyes shift to Kento, and he opens his mouth to speak.
"Good afternoon, Y/n. I would also like to tell you how much I appreciated the invite. I-I'm Nanami Kento."
Y/n walks over and gives him a hug as well.
"It's so nice to meet you, I hope you both enjoyed the performance, and your meal is on me. I did invite you to come here after all."
"I have money to spend Y/n, please, let us pay for our meals."
They laugh, lightly patting Satoru's shoulder and shaking their head.
"You have such a way with words, Satoru." A waiter approaches, apologizes for interrupting and whispers in Y/n's ear.
"Anyways, sit down and enjoy yourselves. I have something to deal with in the kitchen."
A sly wink is sent toward the two men over their shoulder as they walk into the kitchen area.
"I've never heard you stutter before Kento. You must really like them."
He simply just looks over at his friend and sips his water.
· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·
The dinner was perfect, everything was delicious, and it was becoming late. People were starting to pay their bills and leave the venue.
"Hello again, I brought you the best beignets in all of New Orleans."
Y/n sets down a plate piled with pillow-like pastries covered in the right amount of powdered sugar.
"It still surprises me that no one has wifed you up yet. I still remember what you told me when we first met at your job."
They smile at that and goes to clear the plates in front of them.
"The way to a man's heart is through his stomach."
As they walk away with the dishware, Gojo turns to look at Nanami.
"Shoot your shot Nanami... My six-eyes can sense that you're making goo-goo eyes at her."
Nanami looked around the room. Everyone has left and they were the only ones in the room. For once in his life, Gojo was right! He shouldn't be nervous; he should go for it. They walk over to the table again with smaller plates and a smile still on their face.
"I brought you some smaller plates for the beignets. Is there anything else I could bring out to you or help you with?"
They looked between the two men; they really were the most stunning person he's ever seen.
"Could I talk to you?"
They smiled and nodded, leading him up the stairs and through the glass double doors on the right.
"So, what did you want to talk about, sugar?" They leans against the railing comfortably.
His heart did a small flip at the nickname as he approached them.
"I wanted to talk about you. I wanted to get to know you more."
He leans on the other side of the railing, right next to them.
"Gojo was telling me all about you during the flight, the drive, hell, even over dinner, he was telling me about you."
They laugh, throwing their head back and then looking at him.
"That's Satoru. He was telling me about you too, maybe he was trying to set us up with each other. He asked me if he could bring another person."
They turn their attention to the night sky and Nanami does the same.
"I want to get to know you more as well. I'd think it'd be fun to see where this goes. Especially since Gojo decided to talk each other up to the other person."
Nanami turns back to Y/n.
"Would you want to get a coffee, tomorrow?"
"I'd love to."
The two doors open, and they turn their attention to Gojo who had the plate of beignets in one hand and a half-eaten beignet in the other.
"These beignets are delicious Y/n." He licks his fingers after finishing the beignet.
"Thank you, Satoru. Leave some for Nanami now."
"No need to call me Nanami, Kento's fine."
A smug smirk appears on Gojo's face at that. Then, it widens when he looks down at the railing.
"I see you two have been getting 'close'."
He gestures to the part of the railing where Nanami's hand was on top of yours, brushing your knuckles softly. Neither of you move though.
"Well, we have a coffee date in the morning. Go back and get some sleep. Gojo will give you, my number."
Y/n leads them to the main area and Gojo pays for the meal.
"See you tomorrow Kento."
"See you tomorrow, Y/n."
· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·
72 notes · View notes
youunravelme · 1 year
Text
jealousy jealousy
author’s note: hi...remember that time i wrote 2 fics and then disappeared? yeah me neither. i promise i’m still here, just trying to figure out life and force myself to write rather than just consume. this is already way too personal for strangers on the internet...anyway, here’s wonderwall (aka the jack x figure skater fic that no one asked for, this takes place in the figure skater universe that i have not written yet).
(oh and if you’re wondering, andrew is your figure skating partner)
jack hughes x figure skater!reader
warnings: nhl violence, cursing
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him
it’s not that he hated andrew, it was just he wished he was the only one leaving bruises on your thighs. or the only one who got to kiss your cheek. jack watched from the stands as you two glided across the ice. he’d come to appreciate figure skating in the months you’d been dating ever since you’d forced him to try some of the basics of your sport and he’d fallen on his ass more times than he could count.
so it didn’t bother him, going to your performances, and watching you skate. he just hated how in love you looked when you gazed at andrew. or the way your legs would wrap around his head when just the night before--
he was getting ahead of himself.
at the end of the performance, when your smile was wider than the equator, an older woman to his left said, quite loudly if you asked him, to her friend. “i’m so glad they kept skating together after the break up, it would’ve been a shame to lose such chemistry.”
i’m sorry. 
what?
to say he was pissed when he saw you was an understatement. andrew’s arm around your waist just added fuel to the fire simmering in his chest. it made him want to throw away the bouquet of tulips he got you.
“what’d ya think?” you asked him with the biggest smile on your face, the silver medal dangling from your neck.
“you did great,” he stated, handing the flowers off to you. “can i talk to you?” he glanced at andrew and then the hand that still had not removed itself from your waist. “alone?”
you furrowed your brows but nodded anyway. you squeezed andrew’s arm and mumbled a thank you with a bright smile before following jack into a secluded part of the rink.
“what’s up, baby?”
“were you ever planning on telling me you dated andrew? or were you gonna just keep me in the dark about that?” your face dropped. guess he got his answer. “right. i’ll see you later.” jack moved around you, but your hand grabbed his arm gently.
“jack please, listen i didn’t think it was a big deal--”
“you didn’t think it was important for me to know that the person you spend the most time with, aside from me, is your ex?”
“you didn’t disclose all your exes either!”
“i’m not shoving my crotch in my ex’s face every day, nor am i making goo goo eyes at them for the entire world to see!” you didn’t say anything to that, so he took it as his cue to leave. “you did great tonight,” he said. “but i got to get home. i have a game tomorrow to prepare for.”
he walked away from you, and didn’t bother turning back, not even when andrew passed him and presumably went to your comfort. he didn’t get to see you reject andrew’s hug in favor of pressing the tulips closer to your chest.
when he got home, jack immediately called quinn. “do you have time to talk?”
“would you care if i said no?”
jack paused. “no. look this is an emergency.”
“shoot.”
“so you know the figure skater i’ve been dating?”
quinn hummed. “nice girl.”
“and you know how she has a male partner that she performs with, right?” quinn hummed again. “well apparently they used to date for like two years.”
“she told you that?”
“no, i found out through some random lady’s comment at her performance today. and then i got on the internet and well, i found out they dated for two years.”
“oh.”
“yeah, ‘oh’ is right. i mean why would she keep something like this from me? i’ve been honest, i’ve been working on myself because i thought i was crazy for thinking they had feelings for each other but they used to and hey, maybe they still do--”
“jack, you’re getting ahead of yourself. she’s with you, she likes you.”
“but what if he likes her? they spend all their time together, how am i gonna compete with that?”
quinn sighed into the receiver. “look, i’m by no means saying she should’ve kept this from you, because that’s a shitty thing to do. but as far as i can see? there’s no competition. you’ve already won. you got the girl, okay? he didn’t.”
jack wanted to agree, that at the end of the day, they chose each other. but he still couldn’t get over the thought of andrew’s hands and where they’ve been.
you
okay so you fucked up.
big time.
to be honest, you completely forgot about your past with andrew, seeing as most of it was overshadowed by over a decade of close friendship. but seeing the betrayal on jack’s face made everything ten times worse.
which is why you hesitated on going to his game that night only because you couldn’t decide if not showing up would make things worse or better. you came with andrew, which in hindsight was not the best decision you could’ve ever made, but when the new jersey devils asked you and your partner do to the ceremonial puck drop, your agent made it clear saying no would be a bad idea.
so you texted jack to give him a heads up that the both of you would be there and dropping the puck on orders of your agent but that you would still be watching the game afterward if he wanted you there.
he didn’t reply.
a knock on your door alerted you to andrew’s presence. so you scooped up your purse and put your platform high tops on before grabbing your keys and heading out.
“still nothing?” andrew asked. you shook your head. “do you think he’s being a little dramatic? i mean, he never shared all his exploits with his exes--”
“but he didn’t date a teammate, andrew.” you cut him off. “look, i get you’re trying to be supportive, but i’m in the wrong here.” andrew followed you down the stairs and out to his car.
“would it help if i told him i’m gay?”
“you mean would lying help? absolutely not.” andrew unlocked his car and you both hopped in. “do you need directions?”
andrew laughed. “i think i know where prudential is.”
you held up your hands and looked out the window as you tried to think of ways to somehow make the situation better.
or rather, keep from making it worse.
by the time you arrived at the arena, you were a basket case of nerves, suddenly second guessing every decision you made up to this point. “should i have just worn a t-shirt like you instead of his jersey? i’m wondering if i’m overstepping here.”
“look, there are few things that men love more than seeing their significant others in their clothes.”
“but does that rule apply to when you’re arguing?”
“it could!” andrew stopped you in your tracks, right before entering the arena, with his hands on your shoulders. “look, it’ll be okay. after tonight, if you only wanna hang out when we have practice until it all settles down, that’s fine by me.”
you looked at andrew and then back at the arena.
“okay.”
him
“hughesy, is there a reason your girlfriend asked me who is doing the puck drop?” nico asked him once jack walked into the locker room.
“she texted me earlier, i just haven’t replied. she’s doing it along with andrew,” he grumbled.
“trouble in paradise?”
“it’s a long story. and i don’t really want to talk about it,” he said as he pulled his gear on.
“you sure? might help to clear your head. if you’d like, you can do the puck drop if you want to see her--”
“--nope, i’m fine.” he sat down to put his skates on and stayed silent.
it wasn’t until they got onto the ice that jack started to calm down a little. the rink was his home, a place he could let go. he wasn’t worried about the problems in your relationship at the moment, not when he was playing one of the devils’ biggest rivals: the philadelphia flyers.
the team took a break from the warm ups to have the carpets rolled out for you and andrew. he couldn’t even look at you as you walked out, the announcer sharing all the accomplishments you share with andrew.
he stood to the side, ignoring the jabs from his teammates at the sight of you smiling and laughing. the thought alone had him consider forgiving you, until he glanced up right as andrew nudged you and the jealousy came back with a fiery vengeance. 
it only got worse when he saw nico give you a bear hug and in return you gave him an award winning smile.
honestly.
were you not even torn up about the situation you were in?
you
god, even looking at him hurt.
he didn’t even do you the courtesy of making eye contact, you would know, your eyes had only left his figure to smile at cameras or greet nico or the flyers’ alternate captain. maybe, if jack decided he actually wanted to be with you still, you could ask him who the hell that guy was.
when you and andrew turned around, he held the puck out for you. “you want it?” he asked.
you shook your head. “i’d rather have one that jack gave me, than remember the night he ignored me the entire time.”
him
was that his jersey you were wearing?
honestly he spent so much time trying not to look at you that the 86 on your sleeve didn’t pop out at him until you turned around and his teammates started catcalling at the sight of his last name on your back.
“that your girl, hughes? or just a fan?” mercer teased.
“shut up,” jack grumbled, but the heat in his cheeks was telling enough. he watched as you made your way back to the stands before he had to focus on getting his mind ready for the game, and much of that included forgetting what happened the day prior.
which he would love nothing more than to do.
you
“is this your first game wearing his jersey?” andrew asked as you took your seats.
you nodded, nervously wringing your hands as you watched him sit on the bench cheering on his teammates. there was no reason for you to be that nervous, but you couldn’t help but feel antsy anyway.
“hey,” andrew started. “what’s wrong?”
“i don’t know, maybe i’m still upset at myself? or scared he’ll break things off with me?”
your partner laughed. “that boy is too in love with you to break up after one incident. besides, you didn’t cheat you just--”
“forgot to tell him a key piece of information.”
“look, it’s not like you kept it from him maliciously. and given time, he’ll understand that.”
“i guess you’re--” you cut yourself off when jack got on the ice, your nerves shooting up tenfold. you watched him like a hawk, even if he didn’t have the puck.
hell, you weren’t even sure if andrew was talking to you because of how dialed in you were.
you didn’t move, you weren’t even sure you were breathing, until he scored, not even two minutes into being on the ice. you jumped from your seat and screamed, probably looking like a maniac or a fangirl.
you would consider yourself both at that point.
you watched as his teammates came up to hug him and slap his helmet. he spared a glance in your direction, giving you enough time to smile and give him a little wave. you fully expected him to ignore you like he’d done all night, but when his hand lifted up and waved back, you were on cloud nine.
the game started back up again and so did your excitement. 
until jack was slammed against the boards across the rink from you. if it weren’t for andrew’s hand holding your forearm in your seat, you would’ve jumped and yelled at the refs to do something.
“that’s not fair!” you shouted.
“it’s hockey,” andrew said like that was explanation enough.
“and? he just body checked him! jack is like 115 pounds soaking wet and that man--”
“--farabee--”
“--has like fifty pounds on him!”
“he actually doesn’t.” you whipped your head at andrew, ready to yell at him. “look, jack is fine. that’s why they wear pads. it’d be concerning if he was wearing a leotard like you and getting bodychecked, okay? this is the nature of the game.”
you crossed your arms. “i think it’s bullshit.”
him
he really hated farabee. and maybe hate was a strong word, but it felt like every two seconds he was getting checked into the boards which would’ve been fine if you weren’t there to see it happen.
“c’mon hughes, this is getting embarrassing.” was farabee’s latest quip of the night. and while he was no stranger to trash talk, something about the glint in farabee’s eyes was getting under jack’s skin. “that your girl right there?” he pointed to you while your brows were furrowed and head tilted. it would’ve been cute had farabee’s sudden interest in you not sent a cold chill down jack’s spine.
“shut up,” he grumbled before shoving his way past farabee in pursuit of the puck. but joel kept after him.
“she’s a looker, don’t ya think? how’d you manage to hit that?” jack’s fists clenched. “be honest, did you have to bribe her to go out with you? how much it cost? she looks like she’d be a good time--”
jack shoved him up against the boards. “shut the fuck up,” he all but growled before skating off.
keep your cool, jack. he’s just an asshole, you’ve dealt with assholes before.
he had the puck and was about to shoot before he was checked again, this time the wind being knocked from his lungs as joel stood over him. “go sit on the bench, hughes, while i go show your puck bunny a good time.”
that was it.
jack stood as quickly as he could and shucked his gloves off. 
you
horror was the only word you could use to describe the feeling that came over you as jack threw the first punch. you’d seen many of his games, often going back and watching clips on youtube, and never once have you seen him fight.
until today.
you were on your feet, clutching andrew’s arm, your fingernails digging into his arm. “oh my god,” you breathed.
you weren’t sure your jaw could drop any more than it already was. jack’s helmet came off first, but the other guy, “farabee” according to andrew, hit the ground first. jack was yanked down a second later.
if you were strong enough to break the glass, you would’ve just to get to him. because the punches didn’t stop, there was red on the ice, and you weren’t sure who was bleeding.
you hoped it was the other guy.
the refs split them up pretty quickly after farabee hit the ground. jack got up with blood trickling from his nose and lip, but looked otherwise unharmed. you didn’t care enough to look at the other guy.
“and keep her name out your mouth,” jack yelled across the ice as a ref ushered him to the penalty box.
your brow furrowed. surely he wouldn’t be dumb enough to...
you glanced at andrew who looked just as flabbergasted. “was that over...?” you trailed off.
“you or his mom,” andrew shrugged. a beat passed. “told you that toothpick loves you.”
him
his head felt ready to explode. though he wasn’t sure if it was because of the blood pumping from his nose or the rage he felt just a few seconds ago. but as the metaphorical dust settled, he searched the crowd for you only to find your eyes already on him.
you okay? you mouthed.
he nodded and drew his attention back to the game. he couldn’t look at you too long before getting angry again, this time, not at you but at the reminder of what farabee had said about you.
you might scold him for it later, in fact, if he was a betting man, he would’ve put money on the fact that you would, but it didn’t matter to him. normal trash talk was fine but involving you? poking an already open wound?
but he didn’t have time to worry about it, he’d figure it out after the game when he could touch your skin and assure himself that you wouldn’t leave him for someone else.
the second he was released back into the game, he came back with a vengeance. the fight wasn’t enough, he was going to score as many points as he could to beat their asses into the ground.
he was going to do it.
you
there was no way jack was human. or at least, not a superhero of some kind. there had to be some higher power that possessed your boyfriend’s body because he was a very good hockey player?
but that night? he was next level.
by the end of the game, he’d scored 4 points alone, and assisted nico in the one other point made by someone who wasn’t him. when the final buzzer blew, the score was 5-2, with new jersey taking the win.
“your boyfriend is insane!” andrew yelled over the cheers.
you smiled. “i know.”
the both of you walked towards the locker rooms, flashing your lanyard at security to let you through. 
“do you want me to wait for you?” andrew asked.
you shook your head. “i’ll get jack to take me home.”
“and if he doesn’t?”
“he will. especially when he finds out you left me.” andrew hugged you goodbye and departed towards the parking lot while you waited for jack to walk by. nico was first, smiling and hugging you quickly before heading back to the locker rooms. jack’s other teammates file out and wave, some stopping to give you a fist bump. 
unsurprisingly because fate was funny like that, jack was one of the last to head your direction. part of you seized up with fear, wondering if he was still mad about andrew, but the smile he gave you relaxed your shoulders.
jack dropped his helmet and stick in favor of holding you close. he held you tighter than normal, an arm around your waist, a hand in your hair, his face in your neck. 
“you okay?” you asked, trying to pull back to get a look at his face, but he only squeezed you tighter.
“i’m fine. just glad you’re here,” he mumbled into your neck. a beat passed before he pulled away and just stared at you. “did you drive here?”
you hesitated on telling him the truth, not wanting to ruin the moment but ultimately deciding lying would ruin things further. “i rode with andrew. he went home.” jack’s gaze darkened just a hair. “but i was hoping i could ride home with you.”
he nodded before leaning in to kiss you, pouting when you pulled out of reach. “baby--”
“your lip is split, hughes.”
“so?”
“i don’t wanna hurt you.”
“you’re hurting me now by not kissing me.” you sighed and gave in, your lips meeting his gently. 
“there, you happy?”
“nope,” he said, leaning back in.
“easy there, cowboy,” you laughed into his lips and placed a hand on his chest. “you need to shower.” you wrinkled your nose as the smell hit you finally.
“you mean you don’t love me as i am?” he teased.
you froze. you had yet to say those words but he didn’t seem to notice before someone was calling him away. “go,” you pushed him lightly towards the locker room. “i’ll be here.”
he kissed you one last time before running down the hall with his things.
you patiently waited for the thirty or so minutes it took for jack to get ready and speak with his teammates. he came out freshly showered and smiling despite the split lip.
“you ready?” he asked.
“i was waiting on you,” you replied.
jack rolled his eyes but tossed his arm over your shoulder and pressed a kiss to the side of your head anyway. the both of you stayed silent until you got in the car.
“do you wanna tell me what the fight was about?”
jack’s hand paused over the keys in the ignition before he turned the car on and shifted gears into reverse. “it’s nothing.”
you rolled your eyes. “you mean to tell me you got a split lip over nothing? i thought you valued honesty.”
jack sighed and put the car into drive. “he was making comments about you and i couldn’t stand to listen to them anymore.”
“what did he say?”
jack’s jaw clenched, as did his hands on the steering wheel. “it doesn’t matter. it’s over with.”
“if it bothered you, it matters, jack.”
“i’m not comfortable repeating it,” he said. “it’s over now, let’s just go home.”
you paused. “your home or mine?”
he reached over the center console and held your hand. “mine, if that’s alright.”
you nodded, words failing you for a moment. the air still felt tense, though you weren’t sure if it was from the argument you had or the game itself.
but it was the lack of communication that got you here in the first place, so you spoke up. “are you still mad at me? because i don’t blame you if you are, i just thought i’d ask.”
jack was quiet for a moment, letting your words permeate the air. “not really, but i’m still confused as to why you didn’t tell me you’d dated andrew before.”
some deep-seated part of you wanted to shrug it off, but you knew you might view it as casual, he might take it as being flippant. “it was so long ago,” you started. ���and when i look at him, i don’t see my ex, i just see my friend who’s grown up with me.”
he nodded, hand still clutching yours. “what do you see when you look at me?”
you swallowed down the fear building in your chest. you hadn’t said those three words yet, but maybe now was the time? andrew’s words kept repeating in your head. told you that toothpick is in love with you.
you breathed.
“i see the love of my life.”
977 notes · View notes
owlbee-writing · 1 year
Text
TheArchivist: my three archival assistants,
And yes, they smoke weed
Michael distortion: do they smoke weed?
TheArchivist: yes, actually.
Jane prentiss: You mean they aren’t just smoking cigarettes? But weed cigarettes?
TheArchivist: it’s called a bunt… not a weed cigarette… and yes, it’s a weed bunt. They all smoke weed bunts before we read statements. (They are my archival assistants.)
Helen distortion: they don’t look like they smoke weed
TheArchivist: Fuck You.
Fuck You.
Fuck You.
Fuck You.
Fuck You.
Fuck You.
Fuck You.
Fuck You.
Fuck You.
Fuck You.
Fuck You.
Fuck You.
I’m so angry you are so lucky my three weed smorking archival assistants are researching statements to calm me down I’m so mad.
Melanie: Your “weed smoking archival assistant” has a Hello Kitty tattoo on his belly. The one in the middle.
TheArchivist: I printed out a photo of your avatar and taped it to my punching bag that I punch and I mutter your URL with every strong punch I punch you twerp…. Don’t ever Talk about Martin or the wicked Tat(tattoo) I drew on him ever again I Don’t wanna see you standing outside my home at 3 am holding your weird dripping brown bags ever again ok leave us alone this is the FINAL FUCKING WARNING
Basira: Well that escalated quickly……
TheArchivist: What, was that? Hmm? Come again. *martin grabs my shoulder* Come on Jon, they aren’t worth it, please. * I jerk my shoulder shaking his off* NO! NOOOOO!!! *starts to just pummel you with my big fucking fists. With each blow I let out a furious yell. The blows come quicker and harder and the yells get louder. I’m yelling so loud and now I’m crying. BREAKING POINT. The week was hard and I can’t take anymore. I’m opening sobbing at this point while you blood gurgle. All three of my archival assistants struggle to pull me off and they finally succeed and lead me away from the goo pile that is now your body*
Elias: haha oh my god
who even is this dude? someone needs some anger management classes.
love how he keeps reminding us that “I HAVE THREE ARCHIVAL ASSISTANTS”, “THEY ALL RESEARCH STATEMENTS”, and “THEY SMOKE WEED HURRP DURR”.
and let’s not forget the “Martin” and his “wicked tat”, or that he doesn’t “wanna see you standing outside [his] home at 3 am holding your weird dripping brown bags ever again”, and that this is “the FINAL FUCKING WARNING”.
“the goo pile that is now your body”
i’m dying over here, jesus
please, Jonathan, come challenge me to a bout of internet witticsisms; i promise, it’ll be fun.
TheArchivist: *shoots you dead* Heh, idiot…
*leaves with my three weed smorking archival assistants to go hold hands and research statements.*
Daisy: this dude playin omg
TheArchivist: Come again? *The institute falls silent. No one dares to make a sound, as you have just said a very poor choice of words at a very dangerous time. I remain slumped over the bar, not looking back to you. One hand limply holding an almost empty bottle, the other hand cradling my head. I repeat the question, this time louder.* Come again?! *You can hear me slur the words, the sentence sounds like a real struggle for me to get out. I’m clearly intoxicated. A bead of sweat rolls down your face as you realize you might have just fucked up in a very major way. Everyone else in the institute is pretending to not notice what is going on. The bartender idly washes a mug with a cloth. His eyes are closed and he’s muttering something to himself. A handful of people hurriedly leave. One person looks back at you, a look of sorrow on their face. They almost say something, but shake their head and cast their eyes down to the floor, and leave. But not you. You stand, petrified. A quick look at me reveals I’m still at the bar. You look to the exit, there’s still time. But there’s not, there’s not, there’s not. Your fate was sealed the moment you opened your mouth.* Mother fuck.. what did you say?! *I slowly rise from my stool and being to lumber over to you. I look a mess. My hair is unkempt, I haven’t shaved in what looks like months, there are dark heavy bags under my eyes, my shirt is stained and has holes in it, and I’m missing a shoe. But the main thing you notice is the gun tucked into my jeans, and my massive muscle arms that look like they were made for punching. You know that song about the boots that were made for walking? Yeah, it’s like that only instead of boots it’s my muscles and instead of walking it’s punching. As I drunkenly sway over to you, you think of your family… Will they mourn you, or will they try and forget this blotch of stupidity, that their child insulted the Archivist publicly, ever happened to their family? Your thoughts are cut short as I now stand face to face with you. I grab your face and pull you even closer.* Playin?! There was nothing playing… no playing you fuck. No playing… it was real.. the realest thing I’ve ever know.. felt… Love. I loved them… Martin…. Sash-sasha… Tim… I loved all three of em… but they…*My face is wet with tears and I’m blinking constantly in vain to hold them back.* They left me… left… *Almost instantly the sadness leaves my face and is replaced with pure anger.* Playin? Playin?! *My hand leaves your face and starts to head to what you think is the gun. You close your eyes and see Beholding looking at you, shrugging. ‘Pft, you brought this upon yourself dude.’ He says as he waves his hands at you dismissively. But instead of the gun, my hands grab yours. Your eyes jolt open and the anger is gone from my face. There is only sadness.* Left me… * I fall to the floor and sob.*
Wow, grow up. *You say before you leave the bar but are hit almost immediately from a car and are killed upon impact.*
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stone-stars · 2 months
Text
murph was so fucked up for this. reveal of all time.
Transcript:
[The sounds of a storm in the background.] Beverly (Caldwell): What have you learned? Murph: He sits back down at his desk. Um, and you see he pulls out an old tome, and he begins flipping through it. And he goes-- Erdan (Murph): Okay, so. Apparently, there are multiple components to the Wraith's plague. It's not just a disease. It's something-- it's something more subtle than that. When you and I talked about it you described seeing the Wraith bounce from corpse to corpse when you first fought it. Beverly: Corpse stride, yes. Erdan: Right. [Emily laughs.] Well, what if the creature didn't have to be dead for the Wraith to be able to possess it? What if it merely had to be… asleep, or incapacitated? Beverly: So you're saying that… anyone that's infected could be possessed by the Wraith? Erdan: I-- I think that's possible. And if that were the case, then someone like you could hand an infected sword to someone like me. I'd be incapacitated by the initial disease, and you could cure me of it. But then, theoretically, the Wraith could still have possessed me while I was out. Not controlling me at first, but lying dormant in my body until an opportune moment-- [Emily: Mmmm.] -- Like when you and your friends left Gladeholm. Do you hear what I'm saying, Beverly? [The Purge begins playing.] Murph: You see Erdan's face begins to sprout bubbling cysts. [Emily gasps] That pop thick, dark green goo. Erdan: Someone like me would have access to the All-Caster. Someone like me would be able to cast a powerful Dominate Person spell on it, and turn the whole city against you. I know you felt guilty about endangering your friends, Beverly, but don't worry. It is they who are endangering you. Caldwell: My sword is already at his throat. Murph: You see three arrows fly through the window from an unseen attacker. [Emily gasps.] Jake: What?! Murph: You see Cran and Derlin-- Caldwell: No! Murph: --wielding rapiers with glazed eyes burst from a closed wardrobe [Emily gasps] and stab into you. We cut to Moonshine. Jake: (quietly) Fuck. Fuck! Murph: Um-- Beverly: (gasps, then yells) Fuck, guys! What the hell, I didn't do anything!
Emily: Okay, well, I gotta be hon-- I gotta be truthful to how I feel. Moonshine (Emily): Pee Paw, I-- I've been wanting to tell you, when you taught me Counterspell? I… I acted like it was really annoying and I didn't wanna learn it, and I just keep regretting that I didn't live in that moment a little more. Murph: Uh, you see he puts his hand on your shoulder, and he goes-- Lucanus (Murph): My daughter, I'm glad that you're embracing this side of yourself. Moonshine: Thank you. Lucanus: You know, your mother and I have been talking about you a lot. Murph: Um, and you see he opens the doors to his quarters, um, and you see Mee Maw is in the center of the room. Moonshine: Mee Maw, this is also so wonderful because I've been wanting to talk to you, because, I've… been getting stronger, and I think I-- you know the druid change, where you suddenly live super long? Mee Maw (Murph): Oh. Moonshine: And I just-- it just feels really complicated. It's just really nice to have my mom and dad around right now. Mee Maw: Well it's so nice to have you around, Moonshine. Moonshine: Yeah. Mee Maw: Tell me, do you know the Shapechange spell yet? Murph: And you see she sticks out her tongue, and it appears forked. [Hisses] Then, the rest of her body turns into a giant snake. Moonshine: Um, actually I did just learn it, Mee Maw. I-- I could probly change into that too, if I wanted. [Laughs nervously] I didn't know you knew-- Lucanus: That won't be necessary. Freeze, right where you are. Murph: You see Lucanus holds his hand up and shoots a 9th level Cone of Cold at you. [Emily laughs in shock.] Murph: We cut over to-- Caldwell: Augh. Murph: Hardwon. Caldwell: Hey man, it's been a while since I said this, but fuck you! [Murph laughs. So does Jake.] Emily: (yelling) Oh my god! I like, literally was like-- I literally was like, "oh, like, I can't wait to see Lucanus and Mee Maw again," and that shit happened with Beverly, but I was like "well, gotta be truthful to exactly what Moonshine would want to have said to them!” Caldwell: Anyway, I'm excited for this Ol' Cobb reunion!
Murph: Hardwon. You follow Cobb back, he's kinda shooting the shit. Um, he takes you to the house that Cobb was sharing with Red and Gunther and Egwene and stuff. And he takes you into the house, and you see that Jaina and Maw Maw are there waiting for you. Jake: Aw, fuck off. [Caldwell laughs.] Jake: I-- I bend the knee to Maw Maw. [Murph laughs.] Maw Maw (Murph): Welcome home, my champion. Hardwon (Jake): My queen. My sister. And my best friend. What could be better? [Murph and Emily laugh.] Murph: Uh, you see Ol' Cobb walks over, and he pulls out a long case, and he goes-- Cobb (Murph): I got somethin' for you here, brother. Hardwon: For me? Cobb! You shouldn't have, uh-- but shit, I got you-- Jake: I pat my pockets. Hardwon: --I also got you a gift. Uh, you go first. Cobb: Alright. I got you… a belly fulla lead. Murph: You see he opens it up, pulls out a blunderbuss, and blasts you in the stomach Caldwell: Fuck. Murph: As Maw Maw goes for your neck and Jaina swings her hammer. Everybody roll initiative. Jake: Okay. Fuck this. [Caldwell laughs.] Emily: Owh…. [A dice rolls.]
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turbulentscrawl · 7 months
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Could we get some hc stuff for weeping? He never gets any love. Your work is amazing btw ♡
Thank you!
You know, before this I honestly kept forgetting he exists...but after doing a lore dive and doing these general hcs I'm feeling like he's going to become a favorite.
As a note for tagging, I typically use a character's human name for my blog's tagging system, but since "Joker" is a name used in so many fandoms, his will be "weeping clown x reader"
As always, if you guys like my work consider sending me a request!
Identity(V) Headcanons: Joker
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-The acid which scarred him was only mixed with his colored face paints. The white base he uses didn’t harm him, so the scarring he has is mostly around his mouth and down from his eyes, following the shape of the red lips and teardrops he painted on. He still wears face paint most days to try and cover what he can of the scarring, but he’s paranoid about what he uses now. He keeps his paints locked away where others can’t access them, and always tests them on his arm before using them on his face.
-Joker has very little self-worth. It goes beyond basic insecurity, though he has plenty of that as well. His entire reason for living is based on the value he has to other people. At first, that’s restricted to just the way he can bring a bit of joy to the Hullabaloo crowds, and the few shallow friendships he’d made along the way. When Margaretha entered the picture, though, it began to twist into something even more unhealthy.
-He still has some remaining love for Margaretha, but he’s more withdrawn from her. He was disfigured, he did something horrible, and she left. But if it really came down to it, and he had no one else to talk him out of it, he probably would continue going to her whenever she calls, albeit with more inner turmoil. It goes back to that self-worth again; Margaretha makes him feel like he can be a valued protector regardless of not being very physically capable.
-At his core, Joker is a very kind and sympathetic person. He cares about others, their wellbeing and happiness, and even in a world without the above self-worth struggles he would go out of his way to help people…
-But he’s become a bit jaded since the massacre. A bit angry, even. No one did anything when he was the sole victim. No one stood up for him like he stood up for others. No one cared about his disfigured face because now it matches his disfigured body, right? …but he makes himself swallow those feelings when they start to bubble over. He doesn’t want to be that person. He doesn’t want to add more cruelness to the world.
-He’s on the quiet side. I wouldn’t go so far as to call him mute, but he chooses his words very carefully. If ever he’s unsure of what to say he would rather say nothing than ramble aimlessly. When he does speak, it’s with long pauses and shifting, thinking eyes. Conversations with him tend to move at a crawl.
-He likes gentle people. Eccentric people are fun too, but he prefers gentleness if he must choose one over the other. He got along with Mike before the massacre, but events like that have a way of either cementing or shattering bonds and theirs took the latter hit. I think he’d get along well with several people in the manor, including Luca, Emma, Victor, Eli, and Helena. He’s not exceptionally close with any of them, but few people dislike his presence.
-He’s very good at telling all manner of jokes, but he rarely does anymore. That’s a development from before even the massacre; he was required to employ depreciating humor on stage, both of himself and others, and over the years it caused him to grow heavy with guilt. Now, he may shoot off a pun occasionally, but even that is rare. He really doesn’t like to be the one joking around anymore.
-He does still like doing tricks, though! They’re not his specialty, but he didn’t go all that time in the circus without picking up a thing or two. He’s more than happy to show off these skills if they entertain his friends.
-He’s really good at finding things? It’s basically a supernatural power. If you ever lose something in the manor, he’s a good bet to check in with before you tear your room apart. Honestly sometimes he just shows up to return things before someone even knows they’ve lost it.
-Joker is completely touch starved. At first glance it may seem the opposite, as he tends to move away from incoming contact, but this is only because he often doesn’t know what to expect. As far as kind touches go, he’s given more than he’s received, and always with a nervous, shaking hand. When he has some kind of relationship where contact is both safe and common, he’s attached to your hip.
-On that note, Physical Touch is the best love language for Joker. He also appreciates the other four, but touch is his favorite. He’s a very clingy partner who always wants to sit shoulder-to-shoulder or hold hands. If his partner is less than enthused about PDA, he’s okay with more subtle touches as well, such as hooking your ankles together under the dinner table. Rebuffing his desire for contact too many times can and will result in some seriously hurt feelings. A relationship between him and someone averse to touch probably wouldn’t work in the long run.
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bloodbatzzz · 4 months
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DANNY PHANTOM AU + ART (BELOW THE CUT)
DISCLAIMER Hello! Let’s make this quick! I wanted to talk about an au I’ve been brainrotting for a long time now! However it doesn’t have a name yet— after reading everything please feel free to shoot me some questions or your take on my au !
After years of developing his powers, Danny had gotten pretty used to them! Danny now stood at age seventeen, continuing his work as a hero in the night and a civilian in the day. Danny knew that changes would come into his life, whether they were wanted or not. Danny was prepared to take all of it in a stride.
But a guy can only take so much until he’s faced with something he cant.
To Jazz’s dismay, Danny began to show signs of paranoia, impulsivity (more than usual) and fits of anger, and episodes of lashing out more often. At first Jazz had passed it off as little brother going through some kind of phase, but as time went on, Jazz was soon forced to realize it wasn’t fading.
It was here to stay.
Tired and gloominess was all that Jazz had seen etched in her little brothers features. A type of tiredness, she’d only ever seen on a man who’d lost everything. It’d grown to be noticeable as Danny began to lose weight, beginning to eat less and his energy beginning to wane. The only thing he would do now was go ghost in order to save, and it seemed like those were the only times Jazz had ever seen him energized.
Sam soon had begun to catch on, and yet with little answers from Danny went to Jazz for information. But with little information of her own, there was nothing she could supply Sam with but the obvious.
Danny was sick.
It wasn’t until later his own mother had fallen victim to one of Danny’s angry outbursts, and each time an outburst happened. Jazz couldn’t help but notice the fear and confusion in Danny’s eyes, like an animal who was unsure of why it was snapping. Like it snapped because it was confused.
Like it was scared.
Jazz could no longer watch by the side and allow her brother to disregard her worries, she needed to know what was going on. Once Jack and Maddie had made their way into the lab, and Jazz was sure they would be left undisturbed. Jazz had followed Danny up to his room, and without another word knocked.
Alas, no sound came from the other side. Not even a hint of acknowledgement. Jazz was tired of being ignored, and as Jazz opened the door, the sudden feeling of dread shot like a bullet into her heart. Her blood ran cold. She hadn’t even opened the door fully, and yet her body was preparing to run from whatever was behind the door.
She willed herself to calm down, it was just her brother she would reason. What could be so scary about that? He was about as harmless as a fly. And as Jazz, with a renewed confidence, open the door;
The horrors would soon be revealed.
Green glowing spectral goo lay dry and spattered onto the walls and floors, the room messy and scattered about like Danny had been in a hurry. Jazz’s eyes shifted to locate Danny’s pillow, strewn so far from his bed, the bedsheets ripped apart and pieces of it lay frayed.
The fear and dread Jazz had felt before returned, when her eyes fell onto at last her brother.
He lay curled up onto himself, body shivering horribly like he’d been out in the winter cold. Only, it was the middle of summer. A gentle gurgling and choking noise echoed throughout the room, and suddenly all the hesitancy Jazz felt went away. Replaced with the sudden urge to help her brother,
Jazz ran and threw herself towards him, grasping his side to pull him towards herself. All at once, green like orbs shifted to stare at her, pupils dilating, it all went so fast. The sudden bearing of her brothers teeth glowing the spectral goo as he lurched forward to no doubly take a chunk out of her with the claws he’d seemingly acquired.
Jazz screamed and delivered a kick to his ribs, her little brother letting loose a heartbreaking painful cry before stumbling back, he wheezed before a glob of spectral goo exited his mouth. And only then she’d realized he’d been vomiting up pieces of things she couldn’t make out.
She could make one thing out though, he was in terrible pain.
A trip to Vlad was usually like no other, a few days after the incident Jazz had spent hours negotiating with Danny about going to Vlad for help. Danny had argued tiredly, however when he knew there was no budging, he begrudgingly agreed.
Vlad concluded that Danny’s ghost side had been devouring his human side since the day he’d gotten his powers, but it was little by little, and only now it’d been showing its damage. It would get worse.
The spectral goo wasn’t what Jazz thought it was, it was Danny’s body’s way of expelling the infestation his ghost side had been doing to him; he’d been throwing up his own insides.
There was no way of stopping it, as it only occurs within halfas which were then thought to be impossible. And although he wasn’t a halfa himself, he added on that there was a way to slow it.
Vlad conducted a study of Danny’s condition, coming up with a concoction of his own into a fluid that would bond the two of Danny’s human and ghost side, to stabilize the forms for a months.
With its successful use, Vlad began to make more of it, making a syringe pack for Danny to keep on him at all times in case of flare ups in his condition.
Jazz even now cannot look at her brother the same; the permanent eye bags he’d gotten. He’d returned to his normal cocky and pun giving self, however due to his request, Sam and Tucker were denied any information.
Despite Jazz’s attempts to try and forget, Jazz still can’t take the image of her brother lunging at her.
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ablincoln666 · 4 months
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A Light in the Darkness
Part 4
Annabelle grinned at Aziraphale. She looked him up and down before standing up and being pushed back down by Michael. Aziraphale pushed her away from Annabelle before looking Annabelle in the eyes. “What are you dear?” Aziraphale asked, glancing at her face quickly before drifting back to his chair. 
“Hmm, what am I?” Annabelle sarcasm contemplated “I’m the asshole you had your angels drag from my band class, and the one they decided to shoot with arrows in front of 4 dozen middle school kids. That’s who!” Aziraphale glared at Annabelle before turning his attention to Michael and Uriel. “You and me should talk, Aziraphale. We need to bring our attention to the elephant in the god forsaken room. And without these idiots, if you wouldn’t mind.” Annabelle said, flicking a finger at the gasping angels as they tooken her words and her use of the lord's name.
“It's the Supreme Archangel to you brat!” Uriel said before having Aziraphale stiffen and forced her and Michael out. Annabelle smirked at the angels as they left furious. 
“Dear I understand that you might be scared and all but please remain calm and explain to me what you were doing with a miracle in a public place. And if you wouldn’t mind maybe stating your name.” Aziraphale sat at his chair and waited for Annabelle to sit but she just stood there frowning as she stared at him. She crossed her arms over her chest, she climbed in the chair, but stood up in the chair and sat on the back of the chair instead. Aziraphale raised an eyebrow as he thought of someone that he once knew that would have copied the child.  
“Annabelle, my name is Annabelle Griffin. Happy?” 
“Most certainly, my dear.” 
“Now for the problem and the solution I'm guessing?”
“What problem……” Aziraphale dragged on the silence as he searched through the catalogs of angels. Not finding a single Annabelle Griffin or even an angel that looks like the child sitting in front of him. “You aren't in my files dear. Are you even an angel?” 
“Yes and no……I guess but really I don’t really know how to explain it other than just showing you, but not here.” Annabelle jumped off the chair and pulled the hairs out of the way of her tinted glass. She didn’t even realize them until now knowing that her identity was still safe towards Aziraphale, but those angels knew what her eyes looked like. That will come back to bite her in the ass but for now there is no need to worry when she still has to worry about what she might do next. 
“Aziraphale we need to leave now. Or I won't make it back to earth alive with Metatron around. We need to get to your bookshop now. Aziraphale we have to go!” Annabelle pleaded from the door of Aziraphale’s office. 
“Oh dear, I can’t just leave. I have duties to uphold here and I..I can’t go back there is someone I don’t think wants to see me ever again.” Aziraphale looked down at his shoes before standing up and walking towards Annabelle, placing a hand on her shoulder and directing her to the chair. 
“I’M GOING TO DIE YOU IDIOT! I DON’T WANT TO DIE, SO GET YOUR ASS UP AND GET US BACK TO EARTH!!” Annabelle yelled at his face. “You can’t sit around when the world is going to end over me, and you and a friend of mine are the only ones that can help me stop it. And this friend happens to be in Soho, London so let’s go before the world turns to goo!” Annabelle waved her hands around, gesturing to Aziraphale that the world is going to end but all he did was stare at her. Almost like he was trying to look through her tinted glasses to her eyes. “AZIRAPHALE!!” Annabelle yelled to get his attention.
“Dear I really can’t, I have to stay here.” Aziraphale said again, trying to make a point but getting nowhere. 
“Just come for a bit, okay? And at least meet my friend and then I can show you what you really do need to see.”
“(sigh) Okay dear, I will come but only to meet your friend and for you to show me this important thing of yours, okay?” Aziraphale said not knowing what he was getting himself into. 
“Great!” Annabelle said as she gripped his wrist and walked him out of his office and towards the elevator to Earth. She grinned as passing a couple of angels before entering the elevator with Aziraphale and pressing the Earth button. The elevator rang and the floor began to move down. Once they reached Earth the door rang and the two of them popped out in Soho, London right across from the bookshop. Annabelle grinned even more when she saw the Bentley parked outside and movement within it.
Part 5 coming soon.....
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carefulfears · 1 year
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top five annoying mulder moments <3
okay, i have two lists for you: annoying moments that i find endearing, and annoying moments that make me want to beat him over the head with a chair
annoying moments that i find endearing:
(as of today, these could all be different tomorrow)
1/ "you mean i might get my 29.95 worth after all?" (731)
insane thing to say with 6 minutes to live about the mail-order VHS tape that might save your life. the way he casually cracked jokes in front of that bomb haunts me. unfortunately, this joke made me laugh so hard when i first watched this episode, that it became a core memory of the show to me, and it's still one of my favorite lines
related: putting on a comedy show for the nazis in the pine bluff variant
"ooh, is this the pepsi challenge? how 'bout some fresh air, boys" "you can just call me a cab, that'd be fine" sir they are about to execute you in a field
2/ his general behavior with the neighbors in arcadia
not his behavior towards scully, that's a different thing. i'm talking about mulder showing up in a neighborhood that deeply values regulations and appearances, and dragging out his basketball hoop at 10:30 at night. kicking mailboxes. putting that plastic flamingo in the lawn.
he went undercover in this subdivision to investigate the disappearances of multiple missing families, and his entire investigative strategy, is to fuck around and find out.
the fact that the neighbors start off concerned for him, worried that the monster is going to kill him for violating the HOA rules, and trying to warn him and help him, but eventually are so irritated that they decide to just leave him to die
is without a doubt my favorite thing about this episode.
3/ running in front of a car (colony)
literally made eye contact with the driver and kept running into traffic....busted up that guy's whole windshield.....like he went THROUGH that guy's windshield.....once again, i say, do you have ANY IDEA HOW PISSED I WOULD BE to just be minding my own business driving home from work, and end up with a MULDER-SHAPED HOLE in my windshield.....and then he just mumbled something about getting the wind knocked out of him?? and got up and kept running?? you KNOW he didn't pay for that guy's car. used "i got hit by a car" as an excuse for not filing his report on time??? i love him but he is not serious people
4/ reading the articles in a porno mag at the office (the jersey devil)
the jersey devil my most beloved most watched episode ever....cannot even express to you how funny i find it that when scully got into work, he's just sitting there staring intently at porn and starts telling her about the articles. he turns the magazine so that she can see. kinda the funniest thing that he ever did.
+ scully's lil "workin hard, mulder?" and "sorry to interrupt your serious investigation" ...they're best friends
5/ "why don't you take that gun and shoot yourself in the head like you shot my father" (piper maru)
girl WHAAAAAATTTTT??
BONUS: all of his comments about religion (various episodes)
i put this one on the list and took it back off so many times but i have to speak my truth. every last one of them. i know they're mean and judgmental. i like it.
honorable mention: the mulder ditch™ (too many episodes in too many circumstances to make one of the lists but the way he constantly just leaves scully places deserves to be included. he literally has the object permanence of a 3-month old)
annoying moments that make me contemplate violence:
(only came up with 4 for now...but they're serious to me)
1/ "when he's old enough, tell the kid i went down swinging." (vienen)
me when i'm two weeks out of the grave and have purposefully endangered my ass on a boat full of killer alien goo and my idea of a funny sarcastic joke is to goad my partner into saving me by JOKING!!!! about her having to tell my baby that i'm DEAD!!!
what compelled him to say this. this is my "WHY IS NO ONE TALKING ABOUT THIS" infographic mulder moment.
my favorite part is how scully doesn't even address it she just gives that kind of "jesus fucking christ" sigh and tells him to put doggett on the phone lol
2/ “all this because i didn’t get you a desk?” (never again)
literally god forbid a girl have an existential crisis in some FUCKING PEACEEEEE
3/ "diana saw it too. and no matter what you think, she's certainly not going to go around saying that just because science can't prove it, it isn't true." (the beginning)
lolololololol
listen, i defend him for the diana stuff, and i get it. i could write you a dissertation on the complications and emotions of it and why he says things like this or whatever. but it still annoys the ever-loving fucking hell out of me.
this one bothers me more than "scully, you're making this personal" because it's such a direct blow to the core of their dynamic and to what she tries to do for him. this comes so soon after he looked at her in the hallway and told her that her rationalism and science saved him.
which is a moment that meant so much to her and that she references in this same episode. she grabs his hand and she says "you told me that my science kept you honest. that it made you question your assumptions. that by it, i'd made you a whole person."
she has memorized everything that he's ever said and she heard him so deeply in that hallway. she stays so dedicated to offering that science and rationalism that she knows he needs, that she heard him say was best for him.
that moment in that hallway changed them for the rest of their lives, and this is when skepticism and belief start to morph from genuine ideology into roles that they play for each other.
she's doing her part, she's offering him her side, she's playing her role. and he throws it back in her face, says he'll just go play with diana then, because diana would never counter him with science.
LOLLLL okay then spooky, we'll fucking see if it's diana that comes to save your ass in the bermuda triangle
4/ "you act like you're surprised" (three words)
debated putting this one on here because everyone knows i loveeee three words and i loveeee s8 mulder and i'm obsessed with this scene, i've written multiple pieces about the fish in it, i wouldn't change a word of it
but i just have to because this is the other one that grates at me in the back of my head from time to time...because it's not that he doesn't think resurrection is surprising. it's not that he thinks it's a given that he'll always be around.
he just cannot hear and acknowledge how painful and difficult losing him was for her. because it would mean hearing and acknowledging that what he does matters, not because of what he can do or find, but because it matters that he's there. because it matters whether he lives or dies.
this episode is so heartbreakingly cruel in a way that they just aren't to each other, and that's what i love about it and what makes it stand out to me.
she's pregnant with his baby and she buried him. she was ripped off of his corpse screaming and she planned a funeral and decorated a nursery at the same time, alone. she sat in a hospital chair and held his hand for days when she knew he couldn't feel it.
for six months, he was gone. for three months, he wasn't ever coming back. that first day that they were looking for him, she teared up and whispered, "i just can't take the chance that i'm never gonna see him again," to skinner, and then she lived in a reality where she was never going to see him again. for three months.
she prayed and she prayed and she prayed and then she got to cry and laugh and hold onto him and take him home. and she tried to tell him, quietly, about the last six months. about how she doesn't think he could ever understand what it was like. about how she prayed, and about how her prayers "have been answered."
she told him how hard it was to learn he was missing, to search, to find him dead. "and now to have you back...," she smiled and said through tears.
"well, you act like you're surprised."
in less than 24 hours he is going to run towards death again and she is going to be left again with nothing to do but pray, and he cannot hear that it matters.
(y’all, remind me to do a post about mulder + humor in s8)
BONUS: referring to his mother's house as "the vineyard" (various episodes)
this one isn't that deep to me but "scully, i'm at the vineyard" just IRKS me like it gets on my NERVES. just an obnoxious ass thing to say
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tennypress · 1 year
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Charles Choi's Bodyguard Goo x Steve Hong's bodyguard fem reader? 🫣 Remember that one scene where Steve almost shot Charles, and then Goo came out among the trees and glared at him? And then everyone was scared shitless? Yeah, that scene but then we also came out among the trees and glare at Goo 😵‍💫🤭 then we do unholy things together cuz why not, hehe 😋😏❤️‍🔥 as a Goo simp, i love the way you write Goo, by the way! So don't be surprised when you receive 1852456 goo x reader requests in your box>:3
👍🐝❤️
Minors dni
WARNING: angst, enemies to lovers, gender neutral reader
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“All eyes are on you my dear”
As gun shots echoed in the surrounded forest everyone was in a frenzy.
First Charles had tried to shoot Steve but missed, bouncing back at Steve
“I was aiming at you, but I missed” Steve said with a grin
Just then Goo appears behind the tree near Charles.
Then everyone saw a group of birds fly out of a nearby tree.
Just as they were turning back their heads, they noticed another presence nearby. Goo was the first to notice
You were there standing on the tree behind Steve glaring at him with glowing pink eyes, and it looked like it can kill.
You stepped down from the trees and approached the group.
“Oh y/n! I didn’t expect to see you there!” Steve said.
“I’d like you guys to meet my daughter!, she’s a cute one ain’t she?” Your father said as he put a hand on your shoulder.
You just greeted them with a sweet smile and bowed to them. You had agreed to come with your father to his hunting trip. You were exploring around when you noticed a flash of blonde hair roaming towards up ur fathers group, and went to follow.
You climbed trees for hours until you see him. Goo Kim. Sure you met him once when your father and Charles met but that was it. Now he’s here with an unknown intention.
Until now, your here with Goo in a bed fucking the night away. You against the shower walls as he thrusting into you.
How did it happen? Well, you were walking down the streets of Seoul and he happen to bump into you. Yeah
You both met at the local music store. Both getting your hands on the latest Twice and Stray kidz album. You both happened to buy the same album and you guys had a thing!
He took you to a nearby cafe and you guys were deep in conversation. Talking about your favorite album, songs, biases, and etc. Then you guys went drinking.
It was light and he offered to take you back to his home to show you his collections. You agreed
Now your in his bathroom panting and groaning, while moaning his name.
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