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i-literally-cant-with-this · 4 months

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Potential TW ::: Difficulty conceiving. & for my vomit-sensitive friends, here's a mildly changed version: PUKE FREE EDIT

A/N ::: I am so tired tonight that this was not super proofed. This was an ask that came via my messages. They wanted a story with the spicy and the sweet parts of Kats & F.reader tryin' for a baby. I hope it has all the elements you wanted and that you like it!

C/W ::: Aged up Kats x f.reader, several mentions of vomiting & other facial fluids being discharged (snot, tears, puke). Oral M->F Quite a bit of P->V. Lovey dovey stuff, sweet moments between 2 people who just want a freakin' baby. Ok? 😭

WC ::: 4,923 (Jesus christ, I'm so sorry. This totally got away from me and I don't even know how.)

"Hey babe, it's me." Katsuki said in his usual growly voice. "I guess you're still at work or somethin'. Anyway, I'll be home tomorrow night. Also, I'been holdin' back. So, be ready for me. I love you, call me if ya want."

Katsuki was out of town on a job. He's been gone for almost a week now, the longest you two have been apart since you got married, almost 2 years ago. You missed him, sure. But when he came home, stomping through the entryway, yelling for you, it was the best feeling to be wrapped up in his arms and smooshed into his chest.

The two of you have been leaving yourselves open to having a baby for about 4 months now. It hasn't been constant trying, but the longer it goes that you're not getting pregnant, the more you feel like you're needing to take this more seriously. You started reading up on the most productive positions to get the result you're looking for, studying what you can do before and after you do the deed. How to check your basal temperature. When doctor intervention becomes more than a discussion and an absolute necessity.

The phone beeps, alerting you to your missed call and voicemail. "What ... oh, damn it." You listen to the message Katsuki left you and couldn't help the soft pink blush that spread over your face and chest. No man had ever made you feel the way he has. You had been pretty reserved until he helped you tap into your inner slutty girl. It sounds bad, but you've not looked back once since he brought you out of your little sexual shell. And why should you? Every time you're with him you swear it's the best sex you've ever had. Point being, you got really lucky to have him love you and be able to love him.

Pushing #1 on speed dial, you hear the other line ringing and start praying to whatever gods would listen to you that he'd answer his phone.

"Hey brat. Y'ignorin' me now or some shit like that? The fuck ya think ya are?" You could hear him choke out a laugh. The background noise was almost louder than he was.

"You know it, you caught me. Trying to ignore you. What're you gonna do about it?" You giggled when you heard his breath hitch in his throat. Your voice got low and breathy, "You gonna punish me, hm? Good luck catching me, Kats."

The phone crackled a few times before you heard him, "Hey! Y'there? Babe!? Goddamn it, this shit ass fuc---" and then you heard nothing.

"K-Kats? Hello? Are you ... are you there? Oh." You tossed the phone on the couch and pouted. "Things were just about to get good, too." You whined to the cat. But you knew they didn't care. They were Kats' anyway. They merely tolerated you until they were hungry and then they were your biggest fan.

A chime rang out into the quiet room and you pounced on it. A text from Katsuki, "Sorry, shit reception here. I'll try to call you from the hotel later. XXX"

It was about 6pm. Too early for bed, too late to go anywhere. So you curled up on the couch and watched your wedding video. You laughed and cried about how stupid you felt for missing him so much. He's only been gone a week and he'll be home tomorrow. Less than 24 hours and you would be together again.

You woke up to the sun forcing its way through the edges of the window coverings. "He's coming home today! He ... is finally coming home today!" A contented sigh heaved its way from your chest as you stood and stretched the uncomfortable position you slept in from your body. And then immediately a wave of nausea washed over you. "The f-," you covered your mouth and ran to the bathroom. Lifting the toilet lid, you took pause and started praying that you wouldn't puke. "Mmm ..." Your eyes roamed to the bathroom cupboard. The nausea faded and soon your body followed your eyes' lead and you started to crawl to open the door and pull out a pregnancy test.

You peed on the plastic receptacle and set the timer you'd bought specially for the bathroom, only to hurry up and wait for the next 3 minutes.

"Oh." You tried so hard not to let yourself get wrapped up in the hope that all of your fun and hard work had finally paid off. But it still hurt. It always hurt. It was a relief though, that Katsuki wasn't here to have to go through this again. He always somehow got more excited than you at the prospect of you becoming parents. 'There's plenty uh’time, ma,' he always says to you whenever the result is another negative.

It would be several hours before he'd be home, so you put yourself together and set out to grocery shop. You decided to stop by your favorite little boutique and look around at the lingerie. Maybe that would help cheer you up and raise moral to romp around with your husband. You laughed at the stupid thought. It was always fun to be with Katsuki.

You managed to knock all of your tasks out in a couple of hours and drove home to get stuff put away. You still wanted to shower, put on the new lingerie you bought and figure out what to do for dinner. Take-out was calling your name tonight.

In the shower, you started to think about how much you loved Katsuki. And a familiar, warm, tingly feeling started to bloom in the pit of your stomach. Unconsciously, you began rubbing your thighs together trying to alleviate the pressure - however pleasant it might be - building there. It was a dangerous game you were playing here. If you rubbed them too much, you know you'd get beyond frustrated and have to take care of this on your own. And there was nothing you wanted more than for him to be the one to alleviate this pent up tension in your body. Seeing as he was the one causing it, it only seemed fair.

Hurrying to finish washing up, you managed to get out of there with only a little bit of lingering agitation. Perhaps agitation was too strong a word. But you missed him so much there was no other word you could think of to replace it.

All wrapped up in a towel, you went to your room and looked over the clothes you had laid out for tonight. The dress you chose was newer, you picked it up a month or so ago, but haven't had the chance to wear it. It’s so new that he hasn't even seen it on you. The lingerie was a strappy black 1 piece and it looked so confusing to you. But you wanted to look nice for him. You knew he would love it for the whole 30 seconds it was on you before he tore it off. Yet you couldn't help but feel a little bit nervous about his homecoming.

It all felt so new to you for some strange reason.

His Jeep pulled into the driveway and your heart all but stopped beating. Your face got hot and you felt like you were going to puke again. "Jesus, calm yourself, y/n. You're married for Christ's sake. Have been for over 2 years. He is your husband. He already loves you." But you didn't believe a word you said to yourself.

You ran to the bedroom to take one last quick glance at your appearance. Smoothing down the dress at your stomach, you noticed it didn't sit quite like it did when you first bought it. You just chalked it up to a little bit of stress eating with Katsuki being gone, and you trying to stay cool about (not) getting pregnant. It just caught up to you. No matter. He's home.

The front door opened and you heard his heavy footsteps. Music to your ears. "Babe? 'M home. Get yer ass ov-", You peeked your head out of the bedroom and gave him a sassy smile. "There you are, fuck, missed you so much. Don't move." He tossed his keys onto the kitchen table and walked toward you like he was hunting you. Like if he moved to quickly you'd get startled and run away from him. Little did he know that it would take a lot more than him running at you to make you even flinch.

"I missed you too, Kats. So much." You whispered as he got closer. He reached out for you and pulled you flush against him, his mouth immediately finding yours. His lips were so soft and warm and he smelled so good. You couldn't resist the urge to kiss him deeper, and you let your tongue brush his bottom lip. He growled and held you tighter.

"Fuck, y’taste so good. Yer gonna kill me. I can't wait for you any longer. All of you. Every part of you." He kissed your cheek and then your ear, sucking the lobe into his mouth and tugging on it with his teeth. You moaned and ground your hips into his. The sensation of his hardness rubbing against you made you ache with need.

"Oh God. Please. I need you so much." Every brush of his fingers against your body left a trail of raised, peach fuzz hairs in their wake. You were panting now, trying to catch your breath from his lips on your skin. He pulled back and looked at you, his eyes shining with love and lust. "I love you so much, babe."

"I love you too, Katsuki." Your voice was breathy and quiet, almost like you were afraid to say it.

He leaned in and kissed you again, this time with more heat and intensity. His hands found their way to your ass and he squeezed, eliciting a whimper from your lips. "Let's go to bed." He grabbed your hand and led you to the bedroom.

You walked in and he pushed you onto the bed. You squealed and giggled as you bounced. He stood over you and started to unbutton his shirt. His abs and pecs were on display for you. You couldn't help but lick your lips at the sight of his muscles moving as he shrugged his shirt off his shoulders. He moved to unbuckle his belt and you got a little nervous. He was so hot and you felt like you couldn't keep up with him. But he always managed to make you feel like the most beautiful woman on earth.

As he took his pants off, you got up and stood in front of him so he could unzip the dress. "You make this dress look so fuckin' beautiful, babe. Goddamn. So sexy. But y'know, 's much as I love this, 'm dying to see what's underne- Hoh fuck. Th- you- fuck that's hot. This new?" He asked as he covered his mouth with his right hand and shook his head slowly.

"You like it?" You blushed hard.

"Do I fuckin' like it. C'mere. Fuckin' c'mere and I'll show you just how much I like it." He pulled you close and kissed your lips, your neck, your chest. You could feel him hard and throbbing against your lower stomach. It was driving you wild.

He turned you around and began to kiss your shoulders. He moved the straps of the lingerie down and bit your skin gently. "Ah! Katsuki, please. Please touch me. I need you."

"Patience. G’na take my time with you. Got about 6 days to make up for, darlin'. Lemme have this. Lemme have you."

He turned you back around and kissed you deeply. He held you close and you could feel the heat radiating from his body. "I am so glad you're home, Kats." You whispered while you pulled him to the bed.

You laid there and let him take over, let him do what he wanted. And what he wanted was to drive you crazy. He kissed every inch of your body, making sure to pay extra attention to your most sensitive parts.

"You work out this week or somethin'?" He asked between kissing your hot skin. He moved down to your belly. "Fuck, you're just so ..." he growled against your skin as he breathed you in. "Your tits look fantastic. You're so ... gah ... I dunno. You're just so soft." He ran his hands over your curves and squeezed your hips.

You pulled his hair and guided him to your core. "Katsuki, need ... need your mouth." He obliged and licked a stripe up your slit, his tongue pressing firmly against your clit and you jumped back. "Hohmygod, Kats! Fuck!!"

"S'sensitive for me," he dove back in and started to suck on your clit, swirling his tongue around it and then flattening it and moving it side to side, "Fumkin' lub et." You felt like you were going to burst. The feeling was overwhelming and you felt yourself get close to the edge faster than you could ever remember.

"Katsu- kugh, ohmygod, I'm gonna ... I'm gonna ..." You grabbed his head and pushed him further into you. He moaned and his hands dug into your thighs as he kept working your swollen cunt.

"Cum for me, baby. Show me how fuckin’ hard y’can cum for me. Lemme see that pretty pussy cum for me." He moved back down and started sucking and licking your clit again, his fingers sliding inside you and hitting that spot you love so much.

Your whole body tensed up and you felt yourself explode all over his fingers and tongue. "Katsuki!!!" You screamed and bucked your hips against his face, chasing your orgasm. You could feel him smiling against your skin as you rode out your pleasure against his face and hands. You didn't know what you were rubbing yourself against but there was no part of you that could stop it from happening.

"G'girl. Fuck, you taste s'good, babe. Kinda diff’rent. More tart. Lemony." He kissed your thigh and then crawled up to kiss you. "Gonna fuck a baby into you now." He smiled down at you, much more sweetly than his intentions actually were and held your legs open so he could slide himself inside you.

"Mmmm, yes ... please, want you … in me." You whined as he started to push himself in. He was big, you were used to it. But tonight you needed a minute or two to adjust to his size. It felt like you were clenching down on him, almost purposely. Making it more difficult for him to push himself entirely inside of you.

"Jesus fuck, you sure you weren't doing some pussy push-ups r'somethin'? You're so tight, babe. Feels so fuckin' good. But … Jesus."

You couldn't control your laughter at him calling kegel exercises 'pussy push-ups'. It was so stupid, but it made you feel warm and loved that he cared enough to notice things like that. "I've been practicing, yeah." You smirked and he leaned in and kissed you again.

"Good. So fuckin' good. Now, g'na fuck you 'til you can't stand it. I'm gonna cum in that hot pussy and make you the sexiest ma on the face of the planet." He growled against your lips as he started to move inside you.

You lost track of time and your body just reacted to him. He was rough and tender. Everything you needed and more. The two of you singing this song of moans in unison sounded better than any of your favorite songs ever had. His grunts and growls filled the room, as he fucked you harder and harder, so too, did your moaning and muttering of how good he felt get louder.

"Kats ... gonna cum again. Pleasepleaseplease ... you gotta cum first! It w- oh god - it works better if you cum first ... I think! Hurry up!" You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him deeper into you. You could feel your walls tightening and pulsating around his cock and it was the most exquisite feeling.

"Bah, fuck, I'm close babe. Gonna fill you up so good. Fuck, gonna fill you up with my cum." He grabbed your legs and pushed them back so your knees were against your chest and your ankles were at his ears. He held onto the back of your legs and pounded into you with all the strength he had left in him.

"Yesyesyes! Katsuki! Cum in me!" You were on the edge of your orgasm and you couldn't hold it at bay any longer. You felt the hot wetness of his seed filling you up and you let yourself go, your pussy clenched around his cock.

He stayed inside you for a minute or two, panting and kissing your forehead. Droplets of sweat fell from his face to yours. It was disgustingly intimate. You had never felt closer to him. Physically or emotionally.

"I love you." He whispered, his breath warm against your skin.

"I love you." You whispered back.

And with that, he rolled off of you and snuggled up against your back, his hand resting on your stomach. The two of you fell asleep a short time later. Still happily tangled up in one another.

The next morning you awoke to Katsuki gently rolling his cock against your ass. You turned your head as best you could to see him, but when you managed to, you saw that he was still fast asleep. It didn't diminish the arousal that began to creep its way through your body, though.

You rolled over and kissed his face, whispering sweet nothings to him as you tried to wake him. "Kaaats, you wanna go again?" Running your hand down his chest and stomach, stopping about halfway down his happy trail, he opened his eyes slowly and gave you a half smile that looked so sexy on him.

"Mornin' babe. Wha' was I doin'?" He asked, looking down at his erection. "Ah. Was havin' a really ... really good dream 'bout you. Wan' me to show ya what we were doin'?" He flopped onto his back and pulled you on top of him so you were straddling his waist. "Y'so fuckin' wet already. Damn woman. You could put out a fire with that pussy. Hm-hm. Let's start one first though, yeah?" His hands dug into the plush of your hips and pushed/pulled you over him.

Your cunt wrapped so perfectly around him made him let out the most guttural of moans that caused you to clench around nothing. But he felt it and moaned again. It was becoming a vicious little cycle: He'd moan, your body would react, so on and so forth.

He pulled you up, grabbing underneath your ass and lifted you so you were hovering just over his cock. You rolled your head forward to look at him as you slid down, putting just the head inside of you.

"Don't be a fuckin' tease." He growled at you and tried to pull you down, his cock twitching at the denial of the possibility of complete envelopment. "Fucking hell, you're so bratty. Gonna make you pay for this," he laughed.

"Sorry, can't hear you over how good just the head of your cock feels while I'm bouncin' on it." You smirked at him as you wiggled your hips side to side.

He reached up and grabbed your neck, pulling you down to him as he thrust up into you. "I said, don't be a fucking tease," he hissed out through a clenched jaw.

You felt your eyes roll back and your body tense up as he filled you completely. It was almost too much to handle. "Katsu ... ki ... ah, fu-ughh, fuck! Don't stop!" You couldn't hold on anymore. You ground your hips against him as you came, your pussy fluttering and gripping his cock so tightly he couldn't help but follow you over the edge.

All of a sudden, you stopped riding out the last waves of your orgasm. Sitting on top of him still, you put your hand over your mouth and you looked down at him with pure panic in your eyes. "Hmph ..." you shook your head when he asked if you were ok. "Hmphhuh," you gagged again. He helped you off of him and all but dragged your post-o, jellied, naked body to the bathroom and lifted the lid on the toilet for you.

"Y'fuckin' sick'er somethin', babe? Got the flu? What the hell's goin' on?" His brows furrowed and he scowled at you. You knew it was out of concern, not frustration.

You shook your head, trying to compose yourself after something so icky. Hating yourself for doing this right now. Right after such an intimate moment. While he was standing there, staring at you. Puking your guts out. Naked. "Don' knoooohhhh fuck, leave, Kats. Get out! Ple-!"

He squatted down next to you and held your hair back with his right hand and rubbed your back with his left. "'M not fuckin' leavin' you. Not for pukin', not for fuckin' nothin'. Y'fuckin' hear me? Better or worse. Sickness and health and all that other shit. Just shut up and finish. 'L be right here for ya."

The amount of fluid that left your face was disgusting. You'd never had such floodgates open like this before. Puking, crying, snot running from your nose. You were an actual mess. But he stood by you through all of it.

"Hey, babe ... d'ya ... ah shit. D'ya think yer pregnant?" Katsuki asked as you stood from the floor, moving slowly toward the sink to wash your face off. The sparkle in his eyes was undeniable. And it killed you that you had to tell him you weren't.

You leaned over the sink, your face in your hands, and started crying. "I ... oh, Kats. I'm ... I'm not. I took a test a couple of days ago. I didn't w-", his hands on your back silenced you. They were, to date, the most important hands in the world to you. They were strong. They were soft and warm and they are all encompassing. If there were any kind of god, you would live out the rest of your days under his hands.

"Why didn't you tell me? I don't want you carryin’ this all by yourself, y/n. What we don't succeed in doing together, we share the hardships and overcome that ... together. I'm so sorry, babe. I'm sorry I was gone for so long. I shouldn'ta left ya for so long." He spoke to you so quietly. Like his words would be the thing that finally throws you over the edge. The thing that finally breaks you.

"Maybe I ate something." You ran your forearm across your dry lips and hobbled back to the bed to bury yourself in the blankets. "I'm sorry, Kats. I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I won't do that again, promise." He walked over to you and sat down on the edge and brushed the hair from your face.

"G'na get you some 7-up 'n a cold washcloth. Be right back, babe." You watched him walk out of the bedroom and turn down the hallway. His butt jiggling ever so slightly. It made you smile. And it made you feel something else.

"The hell ...?" You sat up in bed and realized that you were horny. Again. Katsuki came back a minute later with what he promised you. Something to drink and a cold, wet cloth for you to put on your face. Smiling as he handed you this stuff, you pulled him in close to you and kissed him on the cheek all the way down to his neck.

"Oh, babe. Yer jus' so ... hah. No matter what. Even with your hair matted to your face and your eyes puffy and red. I love you." He leaned over and kissed your forehead.

"Don't say it." You smiled at him. It was almost like you knew what he was going to say. And you couldn't bear to hear it. Not right now. You had no idea where you two stood in that department. You weren't ready to admit that to each other. Not yet. Not right now.

He smiled back and laid down next to you, spooning you from behind. He ran his hand along your waist and stomach, over and over. It was relaxing. And it was a little bit arousing, but you managed to keep yourself at bay. You had just thrown up, after all.

"I'm sorry, Kats. I'm sorry I can't give us the baby we want. I'm sorry I'm so fucking broken." You choked on your words as tears started to well in your eyes. "I'm so sorry."

He shifted behind you and held you tighter. "Babe, you're not broken. 'Sides, who says it ain't me? Maybe we should make a doctors appointment, yeah? Get my count tested and all that shit. Whatcha say?"

You sniffed and wiped your face with the washcloth. It felt good against your hot face. "You - Kats, you'd do that? You'd have your sperm count checked?" Rolling over to face him, you took his face in your hands and held it there while the two of you just stared at each other.

"Fuckin' never said I wouldn't! Course I will. 'F we ever wanna get to the bottom of this, we hafta explore every possibility, right?" He ran a rough finger along your cheek to collect the freshly fallen tears and wipe them on the sheets. You made an ick face at him and he told you to pipe down, they need to be changed anyway after the night you two just had on them.

***

A couple of weeks past and he had his appointment with the fertility specialist where they ran a count on Kats. They called and said his sperm was 'abnormally high and active'. Their exact words were, "We have never seen anything like it in our careers." He didn't shut up about it for 3 days.

This left you in a fog. Surely, you were the reason you two couldn't conceive. It made you feel like absolute shit. No matter what he said to you, it didn't lift the guilt you were trying to carry all on your own. You thought he shouldn't have to hurt when he wasn't the problem. This complex was exhausting you and you could feel yourself slipping deeper into sadness.

You went to the clinic at the end of the day that Friday, the last appointment they had for the week. They drew your blood and told you they would be in touch on Monday or Tuesday about the next step after they had a chance to evaluate the sample for any obvious

It was Saturday morning and you were both sitting on the back porch eating breakfast when your phone rang. "It's the clinic, Kats. You answer. I don't want to talk to them. They probably found a plastic bag where my uterus is supposed to be." You pushed your phone across the little glass tabletop and got up, carrying the dishes into the kitchen to wash them off.

"Yeah babe, on it. Hello? N-no. You're trying to reach Bakugou? Well, shit. Yeah. That's me, I mean ... I'm her husband, Katsuki. Yes! The man with incredible sperm!" He laughed, you cringed. "Wait, what? No, that's not ... I mean ...," his voice got quiet and he got up, walking across the yard to mess with a fence piece.

You watched him out there fiddle with the broken wooden slat and felt your heart breaking into even smaller pieces. "Fuck." You whispered, looking down at the tiny bubbles popping on the soaking dishes. A tear dripped from your chin and landed on your chest, darkening a spot on your gray Dynamight shirt.

Katsuki came walking into the kitchen and came over to you, putting his hands on your shoulders, he turned you to face him. "Hey, ma?" Getting down on his knees, he put his hands on your waist and smooshed his face into your tummy. "Ma?"

"Are you having a fucking stroke or something? What are you doing, dumbass?" You wiped your chin and huffed out a short, insincere laugh. "Kats, what did - what'd they say. Is it me? Am I ..."

"Yes, babe. It's you. It's you … and the little grenade you're carrying. You're ... we're ... having a baby, y/n. You're fuckin' pregnant." He beamed up at you, tears in his wide eyes.

"It's you, babe. You and me. And … and … and a little us in you. We did it, y/n. We're gonna have a family!"

You covered your mouth with your hands and cried. Not just a few tears, but a full-on ugly cry. You were going to be a mom. Katsuki was going to be a dad. And this was just the beginning of your lives as a family.

"I'm sorry I didn't believe in us. I'm sorry I let myself think for a second that it wouldn't be us. Us. Just us. I'm so happy it's us." You bent over and kissed his forehead. He stood and wrapped you in his arms and you both just stood there letting this new beautiful reality sink in.

The future was yours and yours alone … well, and Kats’ and the babies, of course.

Taglist ::: @dreamcastgirl99 @viburnt @arlerts-angel @darkstarlight82

#my hero academia #mha #bnha #katsuki bakugou #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki smut #bakugou smut #mha bakugou #katsudad #dadsuki #katsuki x reader #katsuki x you #katsuki x y/n #bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader

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n-ctarinenga · 3 years

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the warmest home [ cottagecore!ashton blurb ] | 995 words

From an outside perspective, you and Ashton were quite the odd couple.

Until you looked closer, noticing Ashton's chipped black nails from hours of digging in soil, your earrings made from hand picked flowers set in resin, and the smell of mint and wildflowers on your sun-kissed skin, that is.

Both of your friend groups joked about your relationship at first, both of you really proving right the old saying about opposites attracting.

You and Ashton have, for the most part, always been people who are confident in yourselves when it came to how you presented to other people. The difference was while you lived in fishnets, velvet and platform shoes, Ashton was much more at home in light cotton, plain jeans and his feet in the dirt, a pair of boots and a leather jacket if he's feeling fancy.

You were the odd couple, visually. But after being together five years, and living together for three of them, you were more comfortable around each other than anyone else in the world.

The house you called a home with Ashton was slightly eccentric. Paisley rugs covered the floors where dark woods hid underneath, plants hung and sat in any available space they could sit, Halloween decorations sat out all year round, and your door stayed open for anyone of your friends at any time of the day.

Turns out when you mix goth and cottagecore together for an interior design aesthetic, the theme turns out to be warmth and comfort for as many people as possible.

As you wake up, you feel that warmth as the first thing you notice is the warming spring air coming through your open window. You hazard a guess Ashton opened the window after getting up himself, and are proven right when you reach your arm out for your boyfriend, instead only finding the coiled body of you fluffy black cat Siouxie instead.

You wipe the sleep from your eyes as you open them slowly, turning over to see your little napping buddy and reaching out to stroke her fur down from sticking up on the top of her head.

"Good morning, princess." You say, slightly groggy and quietly, but good enough to earn a small meep.

Yawning as you swing your legs out of bed, your feet hit the floor, and you grab Ashton's shirt from the night before to pull over your body while you summon the inner strength to go through your daily routine of getting ready.

Walking out of your room, you're met with a hallway filled with pictures of your and Ashton's adventures and loved ones, taking special care to acknowledge a couple in particular as Siouxie follows you down the hall and downstairs.

You can already hear music softly playing as you make your way through the house, coming to the back door and smiling at the sight of the man you love already hard at work in the veggie patch closest to your back porch.

It surprised you Ashton waited this long to plant his snow peas, convinced he was gonna leave your bed in the middle of the night to do them after hearing him excitedly talk about the sprouts he had successfully sewn.

Walking past you out the back door, Siouxie curled into her favorite spot in the sun next to General Cluckers, who sat on one of the mismatched outdoor chairs you kept on the back porch. Ashton did his best to deny he had a favorite chicken out of the few that called your yard a home, but it was obvious Cluckers had a special place in his heart, being the first chicken he had ever adopted.

Turning to the kitchen instead of going out the door, you pull your favorite mugs from the cupboard, setting the kettle on top of the stove and preparing tea bags into the mugs while you wait for the water to boil.

You take a moment to yawn again, stretching out your muscles not quite adjusted to being up yet when your attention is caught by your front door opening, looking out into the hallway to see who had arrived.

You smiled as you saw Luke closing the door behind him, pulling another cup from the cupboard and setting it beside yours and Ashton's. It wasn't unusual for the guys or any number of your other friends to show up and make themselves at home.

Hearing his feet coming down the hallway, a noise of surprises comes from Luke as he turns into the kitchen.

"Who the f-" Luke starts before interrupting himself as you turn to him, "oh jesus christ y/n you scared the shit out of me." He breathes out a sigh of relief, hand on his chest dramatically.

Confused, you raise an eyebrow as you pour water into each of the mugs in front of you.

"Scared you?"

"Yeah, well," Luke gestures to your outfit, "I don't think I've actually seen your legs without jeans or fishnets before."

You roll your eyes as you let out a chuckle, handing him a cup of tea.

"And I don't think I've ever seen your hair without grease." You joke, reaching a hand up to ruffle his hair with a laugh.

Luke huffs jokingly, smiling as you pick the cups up and nodded your head towards the backyard.

"Come on, Ash is out the back."

To be continued one day

#Ashton irwin #5sos #Ashton 5sos #ashton irwin imagine #Ashton irwin fanfic #Ashton irwin blurb #Cottagecore!ashton #Gardener!Ashton #5 seconds of summer blurb #5 seconds of summer imagine #5 seconds of summer fanfic #5sos fanfic #5 seconds of summer

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lovely-necromancy · 3 years

Text

A Cure for Insomnia CH. 10

Even with the fatigue you felt after your laughing tic, you couldn't go to sleep at all last night. Which isn't a big deal, after all you are a chronic insomniac who has had an on off sleep schedule this week.

After twelve fifty-two hit and you still weren't tired or even close to doing your tired tics you did the only thing you could think to do on this technical Saturday morning. You started on your weekly tidy of the house. Bless whatever powers at be that you ended up in this cottage outside of town rather than an apartment unit surrounded by neighbors. The amount of complaints you would've gotten would have surely gotten you evicted.

It's not like you could stop this behavior, well you could but if you start doing nothing when you have spurts of insomnia you'll get lazier when you need to be productive. Banking on the fact that you'll just do it when you have insomnia. It happened all the time when you were in school, and while that worked for a while it wasn't a healthy way to cope with your sleep disorder.

You've found doing productive things or anything you would do when the sun was up typically helps you regulate you circadian rhythm faster than it ever did when you just laid in bed praying for sleep to take you.

It isn't at all surprising when you finish your chores around two forty that morning. With nothing better to do and not being at all in the mood to do any attempt at art or reading. You decide to settle in to watch a movie. It starts with scrolling through Netflix and seeing Coraline, then that turns into Paranorman, which turned into Corpse Bride, several episodes of the old Twilight Zone.

By the time you were finished with the fourth episode it was already one in the afternoon. You really needed to start baking if you wanted fresh cookies for the movie tonight. Setting up your monster movie hard drive to play a movie for background noise you set out on baking.

It's a super simple recipe you started using back in high school but it's always a hit at parties. Maybe it's because you fold candies, chocolates, nuts, or whatever topping into each cookie individually. You can't say for sure but everyone loves them, and you think that's nice.

Creaming butter while the sounds of a woman screaming in agony as a zombie eats her lower intestine seems very much on point for you. However, you soon find yourself drowning out the movie as you hyper focus on the mixing of ingredients. You tripled the recipe, hoping to make a mixture of mini sugar cookies, mini chocolate chip cookies, and mini mini M&M cookies. If you had thought about it more you might have grabbed a jar of maraschino cherries to add them to the mix. Although you think three batches of mini cookies might be a little excessive so four may have been overkill.

'Oh well, no turning back now.' you think preheating the oven for four hundred degrees and roll tiny half inch dough balls while you wait.

After about fifteen minutes you assume the oven is hot enough to start baking. You line the first tray up all with sugar cookies. You only get two thirds of the bowl down on that tray. It was your biggest one too. Setting a timer for ten minutes so you could turn the cookies to let them bake for another three after that, you turn your attention to folding a handful of chocolate chips into the next bowl's dough balls. Placing the new chocolate chip dough into the bowl holding the rest of the sugar cookie dough as you go. You nearly finish that when the timer goes off to spin the tray. Honestly at this rate all your dough will be ready before you even have one bowl down. You hope you can finish baking in time for the movie.

It's five o' two by the time you put the last batch in the oven. You've been cleaning as the cookies baked and now your kitchen is nearly clean once more. Just a few more dishes to do after that batch comes out and you pack up the cookies.

Letting the most recent batch have a chance to cool you start placing all the cookies in your three largest containers. You'll need to grab a fourth container for the last of the cookies, but all the cool cookies are now ready for transport.

And with how early in the evening it is you should eat something now so you can have some room for snacks later. Time to finish off that pizza. Taking a slice out to the bins and placing it neatly on the ground for Chonk, whenever it is he decides to come and claim it, you turn back around to finish baking and get your dinner. After pulling the cookies out and setting them to cool you reheat your dinner for tonight.

Sitting down, plate in hand, you're just able to catch the shift into the next movie. Teen Wolf 1985 starring Micheal J. Foxx. Not a scary movie by any means but you keep it in the storage drive for rainy days. And even though today isn't raining you think it'll be a good watch.

You can not believe how utterly painful that was to have just watched. It was so average that it might as well not had the werewolf aspect at all! The acting was average, makeup was ok for the time, but the writing was just the worst. And the ending basket ball scene? It felt like a cheesy early 2000s Disney Channel original movie. You're pretty sure if you combined several Disney movies you'd have that exact plot. Hell Don't Look Under the Bed was scarier than that, and it was a better story too.

Checking the time you see you have about the average length of a Disney Channel movie before you have to leave. Good because you really want to watch Don't Look Under the Bed now. Switching over to your Disney+ account you find said movie and rush to put everything up as it runs through the beginning credits. With cookies packed away and the containers stacked and ready you plop back on your couch to immerse yourself in the early 2000s “horror”.

Just as the hand comes from under the bench to caress Fran a knock rings through your home, effectively startling you. Your eyes shift over to your front door, it's nearly eight thirty on a Saturday who or what is all this far out? Getting up from the couch you make your way over to your door, unlike every horror movie you have your phone and contacts pulled up and ready to dial. Phone behind your back and thumb hovering over Hollis' contact you open the door. Where three figures greet you.

Tim stands in front of the other two, dressed in dark jeans a gray tank top and red flannel with the sleeves rolled up past his elbows. Brian stands behind him and to his right, he's wearing regular jeans and an olive v-neck. Jesus fucking Christ is it 2012 and no one told you? Toby off to Tim's left is in black jeans a black t-shirt with a green short sleeve button up that has a little alien head pattern. Well, they don't look like they're here to murder you with an ax, so you move the hand from behind your back and let it rest by your side.

Missing the two tense gazes as you move the appendage.

“...Um, hi?” what would normal people do in this situation? Was this even a normal situation to find yourself in, what with three men you've just met at your front door.

Tim seems to be looking for his words, he must be out of his element as well. On the other hand Brian seems content to let Tim flounder around for a bit, all the while Toby wrings his hands together. You can't tell if it's from nerves or his tics.

“Hey..uh, so you mentioned Saturday Dead. But we're new so..and we..” Tim is even worse with human interaction than you are.

“We were wondering if 'stop it' if you wanted to ride with us and give us directions.”

Oh that makes sense.

“Yea sure thing, c'mon in. I'll go get ready.” You give the men some space to enter your home. Then lead them to your living room,

“Make yourselves comfy.” you say as you leave them to change.

Once in your room you lock the door, although you believe you have a good reading on Toby to not be the type you can't be too safe around new men. You opt to change into the first shirt you grab from your closet, black t-shirt with several flatwoods monsters on it along with the phrase 'squad goals' and a pair a black joggers. Perfectly comfy for a chill movie night at the crypt.

“That was fast.” is the first thing you hear when you reenter the living room.

Toby had no problems making himself comfortable in your home, since he is sitting on the couch, seemingly watching the movie with your fidget cube in hand. Brian and Tim, on the other hand, were leaning on the wall separating the living room and kitchen.

“What d'you mean?” you asked Tim confused, tilting your head to the side.

“Well, uh” he seems embarrassed by this for some reason, “women normally take a long time changing is all.” Ooooooh now you get it he's a misogynist.

The room goes quiet with Tim's stupid opinion. Toby ceases all fidgeting, Brian however looks as though he's a cat that caught a canary. He must enjoy the pain and embarrassment of others, the dick.

“Mmmh I don't think that's true,” you'll let this one slide but Tim's on thin ice, “Anyway I'm not a woman. I'm trans agender.” Tim has the decency to look embarrassed for stuffing his foot into his mouth. But it isn't really his fault you never mentioned your pronouns or lack of gender to him, and you mix and match your masculine and feminine days. Understandably you won't blame him for not knowing your pronouns but that misogynistic comment will still be marked as a red flag.

“I am so sorry.” and he truly does sound sorry for the slip up.

You shake your head and shoo away his apology, “It's good, you didn't know.”

“We ready to go?” you ask looking around the room. Tim and Toby nod, the younger man moving off the couch to stand with you all when Brian speaks up.

“Actually, Toby don't you have to use the restroom?” Said man pauses on his way over to your little group, “No.” voice laced with confusion and irritation.

Tim jumps in with a stern, “I really think you should.” Toby cuts his eyes at Tim and Brian.

As weird as it is for one grown man to tell another to go to the bathroom, let alone two grown men, you quickly remember Toby's CIPA.

“Dude the drive itself is gonna be nearly an hour plus the two hour movie. The Cryptonomica only has one bathroom and like thirty people will be there tonight.” You assumed you'd also get a glare for insisting on the matter. But you only get Toby's furrowed brow in response and he looks uncomfortable right now, not intimidating. He's probably embarrassed that his new acquaintance...friend? Is also present for the topic of his bathroom habits.

With another glare to Tim and Brian, Toby pushes past you and down the hallway. Normally this would leave you in an awkward situation but thankfully you have escape tasks!

Marching over to the entertainment center you turn off the TV. Spotting your fidget cube on the table where Toby left it, you decide to pocket it just in case he'd want to use it for the movie.

A loud thud startles you and you look up to see Tim picking up a few books that fell from the bookshelf.

'Weird...' you think as you watch him place them back onto the shelf they fell from.

“A...sorry.” as he places them back you notice one side of the shelf is tilted downwards. It must've just lost that little nub that holds the shelf up in that corner. You probably have a few spares floating around in one of your trinket holders.

You give Tim a small 'it's fine' as you pass him on your way to the kitchen. Cookies all set on the counter you go over to your fridge and grab the popcorn bag off the top. Opening the fridge and retrieving the Surge for Kirby you are all set on your snacks for tonight.

Placing the Surge and popcorn on top of your cookie containers you go back to the living room to join the boys in waiting for Toby. Who is already coming out of the bathroom, drying his hands on his jeans....He knows you had a towel for that right?

“We should be good to leave now.” Brian says turning from Toby to you.

“Ok yea, after you guys.” you side stepped back into the kitchen doorway to let the men pass you.

“Want some help?” Toby asked as he walked closer. And as much as you wanted to say no you had it, you really didn't want to drop the Surge and have a big mess everywhere.

Nodding to him, thinking he was just going to take the things at the top or even the top container with them. Toby reaches out and barely brushes your hands at the bottom before taking the entire load into his own arms.

It felt like someone rubbed sandpaper across your knuckles and fingers where his hands touched. The burning sensation persisted even long after his hands had moved away.

It's the first time you've gotten bad vibes from Toby's touch. He's probably in a bad mood, his touch hasn't held much intention before but this hurts. Or you could totally be reading too much into this with too little sleep and you just aren't having a tactile day. You never have tactile days really just small windows where if someone is lucky they can squeeze a pat on the shoulder or a high five out of you.

“Hey, that's not helping.” you call out following the men out of your home.

“It's not?” he asks, “Then what is it?” why's he have to sound so smug about this.

“Condescending.” Toby blinks in surprise at the no nonsense tone of your voice.

You weren't harsh with your words...at least you don't think so. You were just stern in how you said them, wanting to get your point across.

Turning from the men you lock your door and check twice to make sure. When you turn back to face them you grab the top two containers of cookies, and subsequently the popcorn and Surge laying atop it, from Toby.

“This is helping. I could do this much at least.” Toby nods dumbly as you pass them and make your way to the cars.

“We can take ours, we'll drive you back.” Tim says unlocking their little sedan.

That seems fine, after all if you ended up wanting to stay later Kirby would totally let you crash on the couch in the basement and take you home in the morning. Or whenever he woke up tomorrow. And that way you wouldn't be keeping the boys too late. It is their first Saturday Night Dead and first time meeting most of the young adults in town. The night was bound to get draining.

You agree and hop into the back seat on the driver's side, Toby sliding in from the opposite side, leaving Brian to take the passenger seat and Tim to drive. You and Toby place the cookies in the middle seat and you thank him for his help. He quickly nods and looks out the window, knee starting to bounce slightly.

“Where am I going?” Tim asked as you all got buckled in.

“Ok, so we can either drive all the way through town or drive through the forest and across the river.”

“Which is faster?” Brian chimes in as Tim bristles.

“Forest.” You do catch Tim's reflection rolling his eyes at your reply.

To be fair with this group you wouldn't chance getting stuck in the forest on your way to a horror movie night. Like that's kind of a horror movie cliché right there. You and Toby are young enough that you're sure someone would mistake you two for late teens, in fact you know it's happened to you several times in the past week alone. While you're fine going into the forest at night by yourself it's only because horror movies don't center around one person dying in a forest by some ancient entity.

'But they do start that way.' that thought almost makes you want to cut back on your nightly hikes, unfortunately you have no other coping mechanisms for your insomnia other than hiking or driving. So you'll ignore that thought for now.

The car is quiet as everyone waits for someone to respond. Toby's knee bouncing is more obvious as it begins to jostle the car. He's also staring down at his hands, still red from his picking yesterday, wringing them together. Clearly the stationary car is getting to him, he breaks the silence.

“Will someone fucking say something?”

“Sorry,” you say gently to him, “Yea we can just go through town. Tim do you know where Whistle's Auto is?”

“Uh yea,” you catch his quick glance towards Toby in the rear view mirror.

“Cool just head in that direction and keep on Highland Street.”

That's all you had to say before Tim was shifting gears and driving off. You notice quickly that he's a faster driver than Toby was. It's yet to be seen if that should make you uneasy, you'll have to see how well he breaks.

When you guys had made it through town and Tim came to a stop in front of a sign proudly stating 'Welcome to the Cryptonomica' they were understandably concerned by the lack of a building or any other cars. You get out of the car and grab two of the cookie containers, when you made a grab for the other two and the snacks on top Toby kept them out of your reach and exited the car as well.

“So where is...everything?”

“Oh we have to hike. The shop's further in the forest.” you say as you walk on past Tim.

“You said people were gonna be here.” Brian chimes in.

Right this now looks like you have dragged them to a parking lot in the middle of no where in a small town that they don't really know people in. Great going YN. Way to look like the bait for a weird cult looking for sacrifices.

“Yea the Hornets. They're the local “biker” gang.” the stunt group probably had the dirt bikes out today, it was nice enough for it.

Understandably the men hesitated before following you. Toby was the one who quickly caught up with you, perks of longer legs, and matched your speed to the shop. It didn't even take five minutes before you saw the shop and a few Hornets out front smoking or just plain loitering.

A chorus of “YN!” “Hey we missed you last week.” “Yo, did you hear..” rang through as you greeted the group. Upon seeing the containers of cookies the chorus was replaced with cheers and you were given excited praise as they made way for the four of you to be let in. So embarrassing, you flush under the praise getting a little energy boost from it as well. Your mood however changes when you lock eyes with the person running the booth tonight. Keith Warren, second in command and assistant manager of the Hornets. Despite having no beef and all the same friends you two have never clicked. It's almost your thing to be completely rude to each other when you do interact.

“Warren.”

“LN” his disdain is clear too, “Ten dollars bucket.” he hadn't even looked at you the jerk!

“Forty tonight, brought friends.” you placed the containers you had on the table as you dug the money from your wallet to pay for you all.

Keith does look up at that, literally the only time more locals come in is during Halloween when they want to get into the spooky season. So he's surprised to see three new faces attending Saturday Night Dead.

“Hey there, name's Keith.” you roll your eyes as he introduces himself to the group, you'll just slip away now since you already paid.

“Rude!” Kieth calls out, “Small talk!” you respond. You vaguely hear the rest of the introductions and Keith waving off the guys when they try to pay again. Oh maybe you should have actually told them you'd pay for their tickets, you thought it was obvious you invited them and they even drove you here. It's just polite that you cover their tickets this week.

Soon Toby is back by your side, you have a feeling you won't be able to loose him tonight if you tried, as you walk through the shop and towards the trap door in the back. The trap door that leads to the panic room converted into movie theater on Saturdays. Once you get down you bee line for the table in the back that is already half filled with snacks and some sodas. With Toby still following you he copies your moves of opening the containers and placing them on the table. You take the Surge and popcorn away from Toby, throwing the popcorn over in the direction of your corner seat and bring the Surge over to the man working on the white screen set up.

“Present.” Kirby pays no mind to you as he struggles with the screen. So you wait silently for him to just kick the thing and move on. Like clockwork Kirby kicks the bottom cover and the rest unravels perfectly.

“I need to replace this.” he says, just like he does every week.

“Oooh thank you.” he grabs the battery acid marketed as a beverage and spirits off. Weird guy.

“That's Kirby, he runs this place. Normally very chill but between the Picnic and movie night he ….just needs a break.” it's the nicest way you can put it. Toby just nods and scans the room wringing his hands together uncomfortably. You've noticed he hasn't ticced once since leaving the car, maybe he's suppressing them despite how anxious he clearly is.

Doing your own scan of the room you see that Tim and Brian haven't made their way in yet, Keith probably talking their ears off. Better them than you, you suppose. You're about to ask Toby if he wants to find them when the local power couple walks in.

“Party starting soon my dudes sit tight!” Jake announces as he and Hollis walk in to take their usual seats.

“Op spoke too soon babe, YN's here.” Hollis let out a chuckle when you rolled your eyes.

“Came without a soap box, hope cookies are suitable.”

And both are already grabbing a few of your mini cookies before they've even sat down. You really are glad you made them. Remembering Toby's with you, you introduce him to your friends.

“Tobais these are my friends Jake,” the blonde smiles warmly, “and Hollis.” They cover their mouth and toss a peace sign up as their mouth is still full. “And this is my friend Tobais.” he raises a hand to greet them.

“Hey, you're the new guy over at Auto right? You fixed Katrina's bike up quicker than Lewis ever does.” When Toby nods Hollis continues, “Man she's been saying how much smoother it rides now. Think I can stop by this week and get you to take a look at mine?”

“Yea, that should be fine.” and with that the two began to talk shop, literally. They just started talking about Hollis' bike. Normally all the Hornets do their own maintenance on their bikes but their motorcycles still need inspections and what not. This is really working out for you, your friends all getting along.

Thankfully it seems the topic calms Toby down a little, and you can see a head twitch or two make it's appearance as the two speak. Hollis being the chill person they are, and being used to your own brand of tics, makes no comment or acknowledgment of his tics.

Jake pulls you into a conversation about plans for a hang out at H2Woah that was fun, later after all the picnicing was done. Said he wanted to try surfing in the wave pool, you aren't sure about it but you agreed you'd teach him at least the basics of surfing if he taught you how to snow board. Didn't take much for the deal to be sealed.

Tim and Brian finally made their way down to the basement and you raised a hand so they could find you and Toby. Really it wouldn't have been too difficult but with everyone starting to pack in you didn't want anyone to be out of the group. Introductions had been made and everyone took to their seats.

You were already in the corner opening your popcorn when Toby sat down on your left blocking you from the rest of the room. Thinking on it if Toby wanted to eat he'd probably be too self conscious of his scar to take his mask off.

“Hey...actually would you mind if we switched?” he just gave you a lazy look before standing up and letting you scoot into his previous spot before sitting down in your spot. This way you could in theory block the view of his scar later.

You notice how his eyes dart in the room, despite Brian and Tim being just behind you two Toby still seemed on edge in the space. He has looked a bit uncomfortable all night, maybe that's why he was sticking to your side. You're way less outgoing than Brian is and Tim seems content to let him do his own thing. You feel bad, like you pressured him into coming and now he's paying for it. Toby looks a few minutes away from ripping the skin around his nails off again and you don't want a repeat of that.

“Here.” you whisper as the lights go off, handing Toby the cube from your pocket.

It's a quiet moment between you two as the trailers of the DVD play out and Toby focuses in on the cube. You note how he gravitates to the marble and joystick sides the most, always moving his thumb across each in a counterclockwise motion before reversing for a beat. Counter counter switch counter counter switch counter counter counter switch.

Once he found his rhythm with the toy you see tension leave his shoulders a little. Is he even able to feel the tension in his muscles?

You shift focus to the screen as the opening credits play out. And if you weren't sitting so close to Toby you'd missed the clucking sound coming from him. Knowing he'd get more anxious about his tics in this “quiet” setting you opt to ignore them and focus on the movie. After all the more relaxed he is the less likely he is to tic meaning the less anxious he is and more he can enjoy himself tonight.

About a third of the way through the movie you catch Toby sliding his mask off one ear, letting it shield his scarred cheek, and grabbing a handful of popcorn. You can't hide the giddy grin on your face from the action. To say you were worried about Toby not enjoying tonight was an understatement. But he had to have felt some comfort to slide his mask off in public, right? Your reassurance comes in the form of another handful of popcorn, as Toby pays no mind to you and only to the demon currently dancing on the screen.

With a terrible movie playing and a less anxious friend at your side you settle down a bit more yourself. Barely noticing when your head falls on Toby's shoulder as you slip into unconsciousness.

You wake up to the roaring of Kirby's snores and popcorn in your hair. A typical Sunday morning for you since arriving in Kepler.

#A cure for insomnia #creepypasta fanfic #ticci tobyx reader #ticci toby #ticcitoby #brian thomas x reader #timothy wright x reader #timothy wright x brian thomas #timothy wright #brian thomas #masky x reader #masky #hoodie

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nanoland · 3 years

Text

Ponder on the Narrow House

fandom: Lucifer

main characters: Mazikeen, Eve, Michael

pairings: Mazikeen/Eve/Michael

summary: In which Mazikeen isn't finished with Michael yet.

warnings: Violence, gun violence, trauma, dehumanization, outdoor sex.

In 2019, Fodor’s had crowned LAX the worst airport on Planet Earth, comparing it – much to Mazikeen’s amusement – to Dante Alighieri’s Hell.

She couldn’t comment on the comparison’s accuracy; she’d never read Divina Comedia. Human poetry bored her.

Up against the real thing, however? Hell was quieter, cleaner, and smelt better than Los Angeles International, and it wasn’t even close.

Granted, Mazikeen was biased. Hell was her home and she liked it quite a lot. But surely even a human – even an angel – would sooner take a stint in one of Lucifer’s loops than spend more than thirty minutes in Terminal 3.

Yet there he was, leaning against the wall, watching the bustling crowd with a faint smile on his face, like a man in the park resting his eyes on the ducks. Perfectly content.

“Do you know,” he said as she approached him, “that around forty percent of all humans are scared of flying?”

She hadn’t been sure how this encounter would go and, being innately practical, had dressed accordingly. Black satin skirt, flattering and loose enough to both conceal several demon daggers (invisible to the full-body scanner she’d just sauntered through) and not impede her reaction time in a fight. Red silk wrap blouse, easily unwrapped to serve as a garrotte or tourniquet. Hair down, curled, dyed pitch black with bronze-gold streaks – possibly a tactical disadvantage if he grabbed it, but possibly a distraction. She knew he liked her hair.

When she was satisfied he wasn’t about to lunge for her throat, she took a gamble and moved in to lean against the wall alongside him, following his gaze. “Not surprising. Think of it from their perspective. They don’t have wings. Actually – huh. I guess that’s a perspective you can sympathise with now.”

He sneered. “You’re trying to bait me, Miss Mazikeen. That’s cute. But I’m not in the mood, dollface. This? This is me time. I’ve had a shitty few days and I came here specifically to soak up these idiot mortals’ fear and chill out. Get lost. Go play with my twin if you’re so starved for entertainment.”

Mazikeen stretched. “That’s the problem. He’s hanging out with the rest of your lousy family. Gabriel. Raziel. Jophiel. Now that he’s in charge, they’re all trying to crawl up his ass. It’s pathetic. And annoying.”

His jaw clenched and she knew exactly what he was thinking: ‘That should have been me.’

“Also,” she added, after a pause, “they don’t like me. Most of them have never met a demon. There’s no outright hostility but… they talk to me like I’m some gross exotic pet Lucifer found and adopted.”

“They’re afraid of you.”

“Bullshit.”

“Nope. I’m wrong about some things. Never about fear. They can tell how much you matter to him, how much he’d do for you and vis versa, and it scares them shitless. Chloe Decker they can understand – she was Dad’s gift, after all. You, though? Lucy was never supposed to love you. No one was.”

She fiddled with her earring; big, gold, shaped like a swallow with rubies dotting its tail feathers. A gift from Eve. “Whatever. Anyway, that’s why I’m here. With you. Instead of them. You’re the worst, most obnoxious, most cowardly creep ever. I mean it. Christ, do you suck. But you always talked to me like I was a person. Right from the beginning.”

Ugliness flared behind his eyes. “Seriously? Now you’re being nice? Lucifer sent his general to console me? Ha! That’s how pitiful he thinks I am?”

“Pfft – no. Lucifer doesn’t give a crap about you. I’m here because I wanna offer you a job, moron.”

“A… job.”

“Yep. Ever heard of ‘bounty-hunting’?”

He nodded. Slowly. Smirking, she pushed off the wall and twirled on her six-inch heels to face him.

“Here’s the thing, o Angel of Dread; I’ve spent centuries in Hell learning how to terrify people. I look at you and you know what I see? Potential. Sure, you’re rough around the edges. Still got some celestial baby fat clinging to you. Still a little squeamish when it comes to certain tricks of the trade. But Mikey, honey, six months under my tutelage and I think we can turn you into a bona fide fucking nightmare.”

She let the skin on her face’s left side melt away and grinned at him. “So? How about it?”

“Eh,” he said after taking one last glance around the terminal. “Fuck it. Why not? Nothing better to do.”

“Los Angeles is kinda like me,” Mazikeen told him, taking off her red-lensed cat-eye sunglasses as she strutted down the pier.

“Doesn’t have a soul?”

A withering glare. “Tough. Pretty on the outside, mean on the inside. It’s easy to make enemies around here and when you’ve made ‘em, you need to stay on your toes. Stay nimble. Stay mobile. Ready to fight or flee at any moment.”

Michael nodded. “And that’s how you justify living on a tugboat.”

“Ahoy!” called Eve, standing on the deck in a polka dot bikini and pirate hat Mazikeen had presumably stolen for her off the set of some summer blockbuster or other being shot nearby, the salty breeze playing with her hair.

“It’s a yacht,” Mazikeen growled.

“No. That’s a yacht,” Michael replied, pointing to the gleaming white MCY 70 Skylounge docked nearby. “What you have is a glorified raft that can, at best, accommodate two people and maybe a toaster.”

He should, perhaps, be trying harder to ingratiate himself with his new boss.

But he was tired.

Getting in his face, she snapped, “Hey! That’s our headquarters, asshole. Show some respect.”

“It’s covered in seagull crap. It looks older than me. There’s a very obvious bloodstain on the helm. Jesus, doesn’t Lucifer pay you?”

She pushed him into the sea.

Offering him a hand when he bobbed to the surface, Eve said, “Don’t take it personally. She’s just mad because we weren’t able to steal a bigger one.”

It was while Michael was towelling himself dry down below decks that the chunky-faced cop wandered in, took one look at him, and strode across the room.

“Mister Espinoza,” he drawled, “what can I-… oh. Oh, wow, you really thought that was going to work, huh?”

Curled up on the floor, clutching the fist he’d very mistakenly slammed into Michael’s jaw, Dan hissed, “Fuck you. You killed me.”

“Poppycock. I had you killed. That’s entirely different, buddy.”

Dan staggered to his feet and shouted, “Maze! Eve! What the hell is he doing here?”

Taking off his wet jacket and draping it over the rack alongside the towel, Michael said, “I was invited, thank you very much. No one told me you were part of the arrangement.”

“What arrangement, asshole?” Dan snapped, turning red. “I’m just here to help Maze fix her boat’s engine.”

“Oh. You don’t work with her, then? No, I suppose you wouldn’t. As we’ve established, you’re entirely too killable.”

“You sleazy son-of-a… Maze! Get down here!”

Grumbling, Michael’s new boss stalked below deck carrying a crate of beer on her left shoulder and a sleeping bag under her right arm. “Goddammit – Dan, I told you to wait. Is your hand bleeding, you big meathead? We seriously just dragged your ass out of Hell and you couldn’t go two whole days before breaking yourself again? Ugh. You’re impossible. You’re worse than Decker.”

“Maze, d’you wanna explain what the actual fuck Lucifer’s psycho twin is doing here?”

“Interning,” Michael said, cheerfully.

His face now practically purple, Dan half-yelled, “What is he talking about? This is not okay, Maze! Does Chloe know? Does Amenadiel? Why is he even still on Earth? Lucifer’s God now; can’t he stick him on Mars or turn him into a bug or something?”

“Look, Dan, just calm down-…” she began.

“I died! I actually, literally, physically died! Because of him! No, I’m not going to calm down!”

Michael scoffed. “Please. Like that’s what you’re really upset about. You’re not angry about dying. You’re not angry at all. You’re scared, buttercup. And not just of me; of her, of Lucifer, of everything, and to be honest, I didn’t even need to use the ol’ angel juice to work that out.”

Mazikeen set down her cargo, pulled a knife from her belt, and flung it. It embedded itself five inches deep in the floor between them. “This? This is not Lux, dickheads. Mortals and celestials don’t hang out here to have a good time while I sit behind the bar and tolerate them. This crummy, crusty-ass, piece of crap boat is my domain. Here, I don’t have to put up with one femtometre of your bullshit. If you want to fight, do it somewhere else. If you want to fuck, do it quick and clean up afterwards. If you want to make yourselves useful, help me get the weapons on board.”

“Wait – wait, weapons? What weapons?” said Dan to her retreating back. “You said you were going fishing. Maze! What weapons?”

“Where’s all your stuff?” Eve asked when she showed him to his tiny cabin.

“I’m an archangel. I don’t have ‘stuff’.”

(Michael had already decided he didn’t like her. She was bubbly.)

“Heh. You should travel with Lucy sometime. We went to Vancouver for a weekend and he brought seven bags, five watches, and six pairs of shoes. Okay, do you – uh, do you at least have a change of clothes? Because those look kinda soggy.”

To his annoyance – and embarrassment – she spend twenty minutes hunting down a shirt and pants that would fit him.

“They’re mine,” she said, dropping them into his lap. “But I bought them to sleep in and I like loose pyjamas, so they’re a dozen sizes too big on me. Oh! Also found you this.”

She presented a hot water bottle in the shape of a fat, cuddly sheep.

He accepted it carefully, wondering if it was booby-trapped. “You’re Lucifer’s ex, right?”

“Er… yep? Amongst other things. The Original Sinner. First Woman, First Wife, First Mother. Mother of Mankind. Second Human. First Knowledgeable Human. But sure, I was also your brother’s girlfriend for a while.”

“And now you’re Mazikeen’s. Do you also work with her?”

“Sure do!” she said, interpreting the question as an invitation to sit down next to him. “I’m The Choronzon’s captain. That’s our boat’s name. My idea. I know she’s not much to look at but she’s got so much history. There’ve been fourteen homicides on her! Plus, she’s fast; way, way faster than she looks. And I know the beds are hard, but we’ve got three hammocks stashed away and getting them set up is easy as pie.”

“Wow. Those suckers up in the Silver City don’t know what they’re missing.”

She nodded, blinking slowly. “Hmm. Maze was right. You are mean. That’s cool. I get on well with mean people. Anyway, just in case she hasn’t told you; we’ve got a job lined up and we’ll be setting sail tomorrow at dawn. You get seasick? Not a problem; we’ve got a medical kit full of antiemetics. On that note, should we pick up something for you before we leave shore?”

“No.”

“You sure? Just that – uh – I mean, my third son, Seth, the one nobody talks about – he also had pretty severe scoliosis. Wasn’t a whole lot we could do about it back then. But these days they’ve got tons of stuff; opiods and anti-inflammatories and memory foam. Science is so, so cool. And I’m going shopping for sunscreen anyway, so dropping by the pharmacy wouldn’t be a problem.”

For a moment, he reviewed a list of responses that would deeply, profoundly hurt her, responses that would ensure she didn’t approach him again.

But he was tired, tired, tired.

“Here.”

He took a folded piece of A4 paper from his pocket and handed it to her. “These are what the last human doctor I went to recommended. Getting hold of those three I’ve circled is tricky, but I know a guy. Call him on that number down there and he’ll meet you wherever. If he gives you any trouble, remind him that Michael knows about the vacuum cleaner. That’ll shut him up.”

As soon as she’d bounced out of the room, he shut the door, locked it, and laid down to sleep.

It was night when he awoke.

He went upstairs to find Mazikeen and Eve sitting on the deck, admiring what stars could be seen through Los Angeles’ perpetual light pollution and sharing a pizza.

“Mickey! Get over here,” called Mazikeen, clad in a black dressing down and slippers shaped like plump pink pigs.

“It’s freezing,” he complained.

She snickered and threw him the prickly blanket that had been resting over her knees. “Wimp. Eve told you about the job, yeah?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know how to use any weapons?” Eve asked. “Maze sticks with her knives most of the time. I prefer my traps and crossbow. But we’ve got guns, if that’s more your speed.”

They were clearly expecting him to sit down. Eve had even scooted to the left to make room.

He opened the blanket up and wrapped it around his shoulders, remaining standing. “Can I ask a question? What, precisely, is my role here?”

“For now, you’re a meat shield,” said Mazikeen, talking through a mouthful of pepperoni and violently yellow cheese. “Me and Eve are both vulnerable to bullets. I mean – I’m less vulnerable, obviously. But I don’t hate any of my relatives enough to go about finding out exactly how many bullets it takes to snuff a demon. So your job, at least tomorrow, is just to soak up enemy fire until we’ve got our hands on the target.”

Scowling, he said, “Getting shot does hurt, you know.”

“Yeah,” she replied, eyes shining with spite. “Dan sure seemed to think so.”

When the tense silence had stretched for over thirty seconds, Eve clapped her hands, smiling anxiously, and said, “So! Anyone up for rummy?”

Along the California coastline, the cruise ship Illustrious Voyager bore four thousand three hundred and ten passengers, one thousand two hundred and ninety-six crewmembers, and two guide dogs.

Five thousand six hundred and eight souls, in total.

At around 4pm, without anyone noticing, that number became five thousand six hundred and nine.

Hands clasped behind her back, Eve strolled down the promenade, admiring the vessel’s size and beauty. This fresh new millennium’s wealth astonished her. Sickened, sometimes. Entranced, sometimes. But always astonished.

Back in the garden, they’d slept on and under rocks. When it rained, they got wet. When large animals came by, they hid. No weapons. No shelter. No blankets. The only resource they’d had in abundance was food. Good grief – so much food. God had been so proud of all the different fruits and nuts and mushrooms he’d made available to them, and Adam had been so grateful. Eve supposed she had been, too.

It hadn’t stopped her from one day approaching her husband and the plump rabbits resting in his lap – two of several dozen pets – and asking if he didn’t think the cold nights would be much more endurable if they each had a warm pair of fur slippers.

Then she’d met Lucifer. Fallen in love. Bitten the apple. Learned how powerful he and his Father truly were. That was when the real questions, the sticky, prickly questions, had come bubbling up.

If Lucifer has such a vast family, with so many siblings, why can’t I have even one? she’d asked the sky. Why is Adam all I get?

And later: If You can simply bring people into existence, why must I scream and bleed and shit myself in order to have children? Am I doing it wrong? Is there another way? If there isn’t, why not?

And later: Why is nothing fair?

And, most recently, after meeting Mazikeen: Why isn’t everything at least equally unfair? Why do humans get a world of options while Maze and her family are expected to serve angels from birth to death? Why isn’t Maze allowed into Heaven, even after an eternity of loyalty and hard work?

“Sorry,” she said, flashing white teeth at a passing crewmember. “I’m trying to find a friend of mine. Can you tell me how to get to Room 835?”

Half an hour later, there was a splash and the ship’s population dropped to five thousand six hundred and seven.

Before binding his arms and legs, Eve had secured Andrew Bismarck’s lifejacket and gagged him. Furious and helpless, he bobbed alongside her as the ship moved on and Mazikeen rowed up in her inflatable raft, wearing a sunset-orange swimsuit.

“Should I be worried about those, babe?” she asked as she gripped Bismarck’s lifejacket and hauled him out of the water.

Eve smiled at the dolphin pod swimming in playful loops around her, and patted the nearest one’s nose. “No. They’re my friends.”

The inflatable wasn’t big enough for three people, so Eve held on to a friend’s dorsal fin and let him drag her back to The Choronzon.

Michael stood on the deck, looking bored. As they climbed aboard, their prisoner slung over Mazikeen’s shoulder, he drawled, “Seriously? This sad specimen’s worth two million dollars?”

“Actually, his net worth is eight hundred million,” said Mazikeen, dumping him down. “Two million is just what his ex-wife is willing and able to pay.”

Wringing out her hair, Eve added, “She took half his money in the divorce but she gave almost all of it to a chimpanzee shelter. I really like her!”

His lip curled. “How delightfully sordid. Isn’t this all a little beneath you, Ms Mazikeen? I mean, you’re a big deal in Hell. High Commander of Lucifer’s legions, head advisor to the king himself. Aren’t you worried taking jobs like this diminishes you?”

Busy handcuffing Bismarck to the railing, Mazikeen said, “Eve, honey? Do me a favour?”

“Boop!” Eve chirped, having already snuck up behind Michael, and pushed him overboard.

“I know it’s your whole gimmick,” Mazikeen called down as he splashed and spluttered, his face red with princely indignation. “And I know you don’t have a lot else going for you. But the next time you try that on me, I will stop being nice. Kapish?”

“Kapish,” he muttered.

The Choronzon had barely travelled a mile before Eve spotted Bismarck’s henchmen coming after them.

“Someone gimme details!” shouted Mazikeen, busy putting a bulletproof vest on over her bikini and opening up the box she’d told Dan contained a fishing rod, not a halberd.

Eve peered through her binoculars. “Two speedboats. Twelve guys on jet skis. Guns everywhere.”

“Heh. Awesome. Mickey – move that tight ass to the front and make like a nice juicy target.”

“Wait, what about-…” Michael began, trailing off as Mazikeen dove gracefully into the sea.

Bouncing from foot to foot, Eve shot him a grin. “Don’t look so glum, sourpuss. This is the fun part.”

She’d never spoken to Michael in Heaven, despite the millennia they’d both resided only two miles apart, her in a lakeside cottage on the outskirts of the Silver City, him in the crystal palace in its centre.

Granted, she’d not exactly had a warm and fuzzy relationship with any of Lucifer’s siblings. They all knew what had happened in the garden. Some had been nice – Amenadiel had visited often, even though he’d never had much to say and they’d spent their time together skipping stones across the lake’s surface. But the others had kept her at a distance. She was a bad influence.

Michael, however, was the only angel she’d not ever said one word to.

She’d seen him, now and then, in the early days, when she was the only human in Heaven and, as such, grudgingly invited to divine family get-togethers. On those occasions, she’d spent too much time feeling awkward and out-of-place to pay attention to the sullen figure lurking in whatever shadows were available. The one time she’d glanced his way, it had been to marvel at the stories of people getting the twins mixed up; beyond the raw basics of bone structure, Michael couldn’t have looked less like her old lover.

Bullets sprayed across the hull. Humming, Eve stepped daintily into Michael’s shadow, seconds before they started bouncing off his shoulders and chest.

“It is beneath her,” he muttered.

She made an ambiguous noise. “How d’you figure?”

There came a shout and a splash from the nearest jet ski. The bullets stopped.

“C’mon. She’s Mazikeen. Everyone in the Silver City knows about Mazikeen. Ordinarily, we couldn’t give two dry shits about Lucifer’s minions, but her? She’s a minor celebrity. The power behind Hell’s throne. Christ, it’s no secret my beloved twin couldn’t govern his way out of a paper bag.”

“Yeah,” she said, smiling fondly. “He’s kind of bad at everything. Except music. He’s a great musician.”

More shouting. More shooting. More bullets bouncing off Michael’s torso. Mazikeen rode by, one hand gripping her newly-acquired jet ski’s throttle lever, the other clutching her bloodstained halberd. Watching her circle the enemy, Eve was reminded of a sheep dog.

Michael went on: “And then there’s the fact that for a while, everyone thought Lucifer was going to marry her. It was all anyone could talk about. Jophiel was taking bets on when the proposal would happen. She’d have been High Commander and the Queen of Hell. Instead? All of a sudden, Lucifer takes an indefinite vacay to the mortal realm, drags her with him, and next thing anyone knows, she’s working behind a bar.”

The remaining jet skis and their terrified, wounded riders had been neatly rounded up, which meant it was time for Eve to open her purse.

“Um – how long have those been in there?” asked Michael, watching her take out three grenades.

“You want one?” she offered. “Don’t forget to take the pin out before you throw it. I did that my first time.”

One thing to be said for millions of dull, dull years spent sitting next to God’s Greatest Warrior, skipping stones across a lake; your aim got good.

The first blast was a warning, not close enough to actually kill any of Bismarck’s men, though the resultant waves did knock several into the water. They tried to retreat, turning their vehicles around, only to remember Mazikeen, corralling them single-handed and now armed with machine guns she’d confiscated from those already bested.

When they saw the second and third grenade incoming, they gave up and abandoned the jet skis, jumping into the sea and swimming for their lives.

“Fuck!” Michael yelped, blocking his ears at the concomitant explosions.

Gazing past the debris and smoke, Eve saw Mazikeen head for the nearest of the two speedboats. Its occupants, preoccupied with aiming a rocket launcher at The Choronzon, saw her coming far too late.

“I get your point,” said Eve, as her girlfriend and her halberd made short work of the crew. “But that’s a really… how can I put this? It’s a really angelic way of looking at things. Maze doesn’t consider anything ‘beneath her’.”

“Wow. Sick burn. You’re basically admitting she has no pride.”

“Oh, she’s got pride. Tons of pride. Her pride’s just dependant on how well she does a job, not on the type of job she has. She wasn’t happy working at Lux, but that wasn’t because she thought bartending was ‘beneath her’; it was because she prefers doing things she’s good at. Customer service isn’t really one of her strengths.”

The second speedboat was abandoned by its crew mere seconds before Mazikeen rammed the first speedboat into it, cackling victoriously.

“Actually,” Eve said, moving from Michael’s shadow to where Mazikeen had earlier set a crate of peach soda – her favourite – out on the deck, “now that you mention it, I guess I’m the one with no pride. Haven’t really ever had anything to be proud of. Your Dad never gave me the chance. I was never meant to do things. I was just meant to be.”

Michael snorted. “Lucky you. Trust me; he may have softened in his later years, but back in the day he never, ever stopped riding our asses. You think Lucy really rebelled because he had better plans for how the universe should be run? Because he was an innovator? Nope. Lazy dick just hated being told to do his chores.”

By the time Mazikeen swam back to them, saltwater had washed off the blood and her ponytail had come loose.

“Oh, hey,” said Eve, gripping her hand and pulling her up. “A mermaid.”

After pressing a rough kiss to her cheek and taking a swig of peach soda, Mazikeen asked, “You okay? He did his job?”

Eve patted the angel’s shoulder – the one that wouldn’t hurt. “He was terrific! Awesome addition to the team.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Michael mumbled.

Ignoring him, Mazikeen snatched up a towel to dry her hair. “Glad to hear it. Alright! Let’s get Bismarck back to shore, get paid, and find a place to have dinner so we can toast Team Hellrazor’s first successful mission.”

“R-A-Z-O-R,” Eve informed Michael. “To make it cooler.”

Bombshell curls. The only way to celebrate victory.

“Should I even ask why your hair smells like burning plastic?” asked Britney, a sixty-four year old veteran stylist with spectacles and a bright blue bob. She’d worked in Hollywood since she was seventeen and her skilled hands, according to rumour, had tended to Viola Davis herself.

Mazikeen flipped through a magazine with the hand that wasn’t getting its nails painted red-gold by two assistants down on their knees, as intensely focused as if they were touching up The Last Supper. “Blew up some jet skis. Don’t worry about it.”

Picking up the curling iron, Britney said, “That handsome guy you and Eve came in with… new boyfriend?”

“Ha! No. Not in a million years. He’s my intern.”

Eve had only wanted a trim and, as soon as it was done, had dragged Michael away to shop for books and shoes. She was trying, without much subtlety, to work out what he liked; what he did for fun; if he was even capable of having fun. Waste of time, in Mazikeen’s opinion, especially considering that before the end of the week he’d probably run away to some dark hole where he could get back to wallowing in his bitterness. But maybe not. Eve clearly had hope and Mazikeen trusted her judgement.

As the assistants moved on to her other hand, her phone buzzed.

Glancing up to meet Britney’s gaze in the mirror, Mazikeen said, “Get that for me? My nails are wet and it’s probably Eve. Word’s got out what happens to all other humans who call me on a Saturday.”

The older woman’s blue eyebrows bounced as she picked up the phone. “Might be that tasty boss of yours!”

“Nope,” she muttered, old unhappiness flaring hot in her heart. “He only ever calls when he wants me to do something and right now, there’s nothing he can’t do himself.”

Britney held the phone up in front of her face.

There was a message from Linda.

Charlie’s missing his Auntie Maze – see u for dinner Tuesday? J <3

“Uh – are you crying?” asked Britney.

“No!” she snapped. “Just… shut up. Reply for me. Say yes. And add a knife emoji. I always use knife emojis.”

Just then, a white woman with long brown hair and skinny jeans strode purposefully into the salon.

Britney tutted and held up a hand. “Ma’am? I’m sorry, but Ms Smith has booked the entire…”

She trailed off as the woman’s eyes flashed red.

“Chantinelle,” Mazikeen greeted, spinning the chair round and crossing her legs regally. “It’s okay, Britney. She’s a friend. Well – an ally.”

Gravel-voiced, like she smoked heavily, the other demon drawled, “I’m touched, your great and gracious Majesty.”

Mazikeen snickered. “Bitch, get over here.”

With a smirk, Chantinelle marched over and planted a fierce kiss on her cheek.

“What news from Hell?” Mazikeen asked her sister.

Chantinelle briefed her while Britney and the others finished up her curls and manicure. They spoke in Lilim, Chantinelle parking her denim-clad butt on the vanity next to an arsenal of combs and keeping one eye on the door. She’d already tried twice to convince Mazikeen that a queen needed a bodyguard, to no avail.

When their meeting was concluded, Britney said, “So you’re from Holland, right? Oh! It’s a lovely country. My cousin lives there and she’s always telling me to visit.”

(Britney knew they weren’t from Holland. Britney knew they weren’t from Earth. Britney was one of those people who coped with uncomfortable realities like demons in her workplace by ignoring them.)

“Will you be coming home soon?” Chantinelle asked before she left.

Studying her reflection – avoiding her sister’s gaze – Mazikeen said, “Mmm. Yeah. Soon. Just got a few things to finish up here.”

“Well, don’t keep us waiting too long. The family misses you. I mean – it’s been years, y’know?”

“I know. I do.”

“I didn’t know you had a family,” Britney commented after Chantinelle had gone. “How come you never talk about them?”

Mazikeen handed over a wad of blood-spattered cash. “Eh. After a while, I figured out that nobody likes it when I do.”

She began making her way across the mall to Eve’s favourite shoe shop, then stopped when she approached the arcade and heard her girlfriend’s laugh over the beeps and buzzes of various games.

Unsurprised, she wandered in and found her on the Dance Dance Revolution platform, barefoot and skirt twirling as she beat the shit out of someone’s high score, surrounded by a crowd of cheering, applauding onlookers.

Michael stood off to the side, clutching three bulging shopping bags and looking mortified.

“I couldn’t stop her,” he hissed to Mazikeen. “What the hell? What the actual hell? I thought you were trying to maintain a reputation on this crummy rock! What’re your enemies going to think if this is how your allies behave in public?”

“I figure they’ll think something like, ‘Oh my God, she’s tapping that? I am going to literally die of jealousy’,” Mazikeen said, kicking off her stilettos and handing them to him. “Go fetch us some bottled water, wimp. We’ll be here for a while.”

Eve’s competitor on the adjacent platform yelped as Mazikeen shoved him off and took his place.

“Hi, pretty lady,” said Eve, her eyes sparkling. “You know I’ve been dancing for millions of years, right?”

Mazikeen grinned at her and tossed back her bombshell curls. “Bring it, beautiful.”

Out the corner of her eye, she saw Michael blush bright red.

What was he doing here?

“We are fifteen miles over the speed limit!”

Mazikeen cackled and drove faster. In the seat beside her, Eve punched the air and turned up the radio until Michael thought Rihanna’s voice would burst even his divine eardrums. (Contrary to his brother’s accusations, he did, in fact, enjoy some types of music. Just not when it was loud or fast-paced.)

“May I remind you of a crucial fact?” he demanded, having to shout to be heard. “It’s not me who’ll die if this thing flips! Angel, remember? You two are the ones who’ll be splattered all over the road! Hello? Is anybody listening to me?”

“I’m a fine-tuned supersonic speed machine,” Mazikeen sang.

The desert outside the cherry-red convertible they’d stolen in Las Vegas was a sickening blur and he hated it. Not that he’d never travelled this fast – though he was slower than just about all his siblings in the air, he could still outpace a jet. But flying under his own power couldn’t be compared to being trapped in this hideous human death trap under the command of a demon and a madwoman.

“I’ll be fine,” he said, this time to himself, gripping his seatbelt with both hands like it was the neck of an angry serpent. “Whatever happens. Even if we crash. They’ll die. I’ll be fine.”

“Hey!” called Eve, turning to look at him, squinting. “Are you really not having fun? Maze! Slow down! He’s not having fun.”

Mazikeen groaned but brought them back to a less terrifying percentage of light speed, while Eve undid her seatbelt and climbed into the back with Michael.

He sputtered. “Jesus H. Christ – you’re not supposed to do that while the vehicle is moving. Rules exist for a reason, goddammit.”

“I’m sorry we freaked you out,” Eve told him, with… confusing sincerity.

None of his siblings had ever apologised for frightening him, Lucifer least of all (“Aww – don’t be so nervous, brother!” and a golden laugh from the brave, adventurous Morningstar after he’d enticed Michael to fly with him into a hurricane for fun and the noise and sight of it had made his twin cry).

When Michael was young, he’d assumed that was because apologies were for lesser beings, like mortals – except that when he’d discovered his latent talent for underhanded pranks, his siblings had all turned around and demanded apologies from him. The pranks had become progressively mean-spirited after that.

Waiting for the other shoe to drop – for the punchline – he said, carefully, “It’s fine.”

The wind had blown Eve’s hair all over the place. As she brushed it out of her eyes, he was reminded that today she’d chosen to wear one of her thin white summer dresses, this one low-cut enough to make it clear that that was all she was wearing.

Now mischievous, she winked at him. “But you know… if I made a habit of following those rules you like so much, I’d still be married and bored out of my mind. Wanna kiss?”

He nearly jumped out of the car.

“Uh,” he croaked.

His gaze flickered past Eve’s inquisitive face to the back of Mazikeen’s head. How long did he have? How many milliseconds left before she turned around and tore out his throat in a fit of frenzied jealousy?

“Hell, yeah!” Mazikeen cheered, throwing up the horns. “One of you take a picture for me. Or, better yet, move over so I can see you in the rear view mirror.”

Eve’s chin tilted downwards as she examined Michael. “I dunno. Doesn’t seem like he’s into it. Er – yikes. Actually, I think he’s gonna throw up. Might wanna pull over, babe.”

“I’m not going to throw up! I just need… just need air. Could you sit back for a moment?” he hissed.

She did so and he got his breathing under control. Crap, his shoulder hurt so much today.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, fidgeting. “I didn’t mean to-…”

“Is this because of him?” Michael snarled, suddenly furious.

“What?”

“Him! Lucifer! He dumped you, yeah? And now you’re – what, trying to get back at him by hitting on me? Or is it just because I look like him so I’m the best substitute you can get, or-…”

She slapped him.

It hurt.

(It really did. What? Since when did getting hit by mortals hurt?)

Mazikeen whistled approvingly.

“No,” said Eve, half-growling. “I’m not like that. I don’t use people like that, Michael.”

He touched the part of his face where her skin had met his. It felt hot. Tingly. He swallowed. “Um – right. Got it.”

“Do you?”

“Yes.”

The anger in her eyes subsided. “Good. Now, would you like to kiss me or not? It’s fine if you don’t want to. You’ll still be part of the team. This is just for fun.”

Feeling oafish and off-kilter, he gestured at Mazikeen. “Won’t she mind?”

“Nope!” Mazikeen volunteered without hesitation.

Eve, exasperated, huffed, “I already asked her if she’d mind. Do you really think I’d put the offer on the table if I hadn’t? Whatever they say about me in the Silver City, I’m neither frivolous nor disloyal. I didn’t go behind Adam’s back when I fell in love with your brother; I told him to his face what I was doing.”

“Oh. Didn’t know that.”

“Because he didn’t tell anyone. He didn’t care. Adam was a decent man who didn’t love me at all. But Maze does, and I love her, and we’ve decided this is something we’re both okay with.”

“Yeah, most demons are poly,” Mazikeen told him. “As long as everyone’s on board and on the same page, you can hook up with whoever you like.”

“Last chance: kiss or no kiss?” said Eve.

She was close enough now for him to smell her perfume. His chest felt tight. “I don’t like ultimatums.”

“Okay. How about wagers? I bet you anything I’m the best kisser you’ve ever met. Or requests? Please, please kiss me, Michael. Or-…”

She was so warm. Her breath flowing into his mouth felt like drinking hot chocolate on a Winter’s night, sugary heat poured down his throat and filling up his whole chest.

His bones seemed to melt. He slid down the seat, half-pushed, until he lay almost flat with her on top of him, cradling his face in her hands, her thumbs making slow, comforting circles on his jaw.

“Ghnnff-fu-fuck,” he slurred.

That he was hard, and had been hard ever since he’d noticed how low-cut her dress was, seemed almost irrelevant in the face of far more interesting observations, like the soft grunts she made or the way her breasts felt pressed tight against him, until she slid a thigh between his legs.

He cried out. Arched.

“There you go,” she purred against his neck.

Elegant and effortless, she took off her shoes and her panties, and slid down onto his cock with a soft, fluttering sigh. Grabbed his hand and raised it to cover one of her nipples.

Just before he came, he opened his eyes and gazed up, and the sun had moved behind her, draining all but her edges of definition, and the wind had picked up her hair again and sent it billowing up and out, like dark wings. Like his wings.

“Michael! Ah!”

The car stopped.

“Huh,” said Mazikeen. “There’s something you don’t see every day.”

She pointed. Panting, they both followed her finger.

Across the sky, from one horizon to the next, the clouds had arranged themselves into the words

I LOVE YOU DETECTIVE !!!!

-LM

“Oh, crud,” said Eve.

Fuck the next bounty.

After thinking about it for ten seconds, Mazikeen turned them around and started driving straight for Los Angeles.

Eve can talk to him. Not me. He needs to talk to someone, and Eve will do.

Barely half a mile later, Amenadiel dropped out of the sky and landed in the middle of the road, just far enough away for her to bring the car to a screeching halt before it would otherwise have slammed into him like wet clay into a steel wall.

“We’ve got a problem,” he said, looking exhausted.

She snorted and pointed skyward. “Yeah. This? Not gonna lie, I was expecting something like this. But I thought it would take, like, at least a month.”

Wincing, Amenadiel said, “No, that’s… that’s a different problem and Chloe’s promised to discuss it with him. Maze, we need you back at Lux. Now.”

“Hi, Amenadiel!” Eve called, waving.

He succeeded in smiling at her without even glancing at Michael, despite his younger brother sitting right at her side, glaring fixedly.

“Why?” demanded Mazikeen, tensely drumming her fingers on the wheel. (Inner voice hissing, Shouldn’t have left him alone, you dumb bitch, you’ve been doing this for centuries and you know what he’s like when you leave him alone for more than five minutes.) “Seriously – what could he possibly need me for? He’s God.”

Sighing, Amenadiel put his wings away. “Mazikeen, we’re all well aware that Lucy often… has difficulty focusing. To put it mildly. There’s a lot more for him to focus on now than ever before. He’s trying to undo climate change. To that end, he started refreezing all the melted ice in the Arctic. But he did it too quickly and, resultantly, there are several hundred trapped ships we need to save and several thousand dead penguins to resurrect and, to be honest, he hasn’t really got the hang of resurrection yet – you remember what Dan looked like for the first few hours after Lucifer brought him back to life…”

“Eurgh. Yeah. Yuck. Totes not the kinda shit you’d wanna see in Happy Feet.”

Michael was snickering.

“Right. And then there are all the changes he’s been making locally,” Amenadiel went on. “The expansion of Lux, the overnight disappearance of all Los Angeles’ firearms, his deciding that the city’s white supremacist population should grow a third ear so they can be easily identified, and, well, it turns out that a lot of Chloe’s colleagues at the police station-…”

“I get it, I get it. Chaos everywhere. As usual. What, exactly, is the problem he wants me to fix?”

Amenadiel exhaled heavily. “The demons. The ones you brought from Hell to help us defeat Michael.”

“Oh, so you do remember I exist,” Michael muttered.

Stonily ignoring him, Amenadiel said, “They’re still on Earth and they’re causing trouble. The one called Dromos, in particular. He’s gathered followers and they’ve surrounded Lux.”

Her brother’s face – his real face, not the human puppet he wore – flashed through her mind’s eye; a memory from when they were unruly children and had raced through Hell together, using the stone pillars that they’d not yet known were cells as an obstacle course. She’d been faster; he, more athletic. Together with a few cousins, they’d made a fearsome team, and not even their meanest older siblings had bullied them.

She folded her arms and looked away. “They’re demons. Lucifer can deal with them. Snap his fingers and turn them into rats or whatever. Make them explode.”

“Mazikeen,” Eve murmured, soft and low, touching her shoulder. “You don’t want that. They’re your family.”

Amenadiel blinked, as though that hadn’t occurred to him. “Er… yes, there’s that. There’s also the fact that Lucifer doesn’t want all of humanity to see him as the type of God who casually annihilates his enemies; a harsh, vindictive God. He wants to be liked. To be loved.”

“Fine. So why don’t you and the other angels sort it out?”

“Come now, Maze. A bunch of angels and a bunch of demons waging war in the midst of a bustling city? Humans will die. But you’re the Queen of Hell now and, by extension, the Queen of Demons. If you command Dromos to stand down, he will. This can all be resolved peacefully.”

Eve’s fingertips were cool against her skin.

Mazikeen looked back at the sky. The cloud letters were starting to dissolve. “What does he want?”

“Who?”

“Dromos. He doesn’t act on instinct. He’s a planner. He wants something.”

Shrugging, Amenadiel said, “He shouted at me about demanding an audience with the king. I didn’t ask for details. I don’t really care. Dromos isn’t someone I’m inclined to listen to at the best of times. The last time the wretch showed his face on Earth, he kidnapped my son.”

“Mmm. Kinda like your sister was gonna do. Kinda like you were gonna do, now that I think about it.”

“Maze!” he gasped, sounding shocked and hurt. “You can’t compared poor Remiel’s misguided actions to-…”

“I’ll do it,” she interrupted. “Take me to Lux. Now.”

“Excuse me? What about us?” snapped Michael.

Mazikeen met Eve’s gentle gaze. “You don’t need to be involved in this. My family drama, it – it’s not pretty.”

“My son killed my son,” said Eve, taking her hand. “My husband loved another woman. I’m used to drama.”

Swallowing, Mazikeen glanced at Michael. “And you, wimp?”

Feigning disinterest – feigning it badly – he said, “You showed up to my last domestic dispute. Guess this’ll make us square.”

“I’ve only got two arms. I can’t carry all of you,” Amenadiel pointed out.

Mazikeen rubbed her chin. “No… but you can carry the car, right?”

He didn’t have time for this. There was so much to do.

“World hunger,” he recited as he bounced from one laptop to the next, all twenty-three of them displaying a different article or video by a leading scientific or sociological mind, “wealth inequality, pollution, cancer, droughts, racism, elderly abuse, housing shortages, cruelty to animals…”

“Lucifer,” said Linda patiently, sitting on his best couch with her legs crossed, a cup of coffee and a laptop of her own beside her. “You said you wanted my advice as to how you should manage this whole ‘being God’ business.”

“I do, doctor! Very much. Your input is invaluable. Blast, where did I put that map of Alaska? I’m thinking of making it bigger; slotting it in alongside the Arctic to help stabilise all that new ice.”

“Right. Thanks. So here – here is what I’m suggesting now; slow down. Seriously. Take a breath, step back, and think your next move through.”

He scoffed. “‘Slow down’? Doctor, I need to work at least three times faster if I’m to keep up with everything. There are people suffering everywhere, millions of them! There are sinners in need of punishment! I’m seriously considering asking Chloe to be my Deputy God. I never imagined omnipotence would entail so much paperwork and she’s always been better at that than me.”

Outside the penthouse, many stories below, the chanting grew louder. None of the human police officers, journalists, and gawkers who’d gathered to watch could understand it; it was in Lilim.

Cursing, Lucifer strode to the balcony and shouted down, “For the last time, would you all kindly piss off? I’m trying to fix an entire planet here!”

He heard the elevator open and moaned. “Detective, not now. Please. I’m very sorry I haven’t returned your calls – I swear I’m not avoiding you – it’s just that I’ve got a lot on my plate today and we did already agree to meet for supper at-…”

“Lucifer,” said Linda, sounding terrified.

“Lucifer,” said someone else, sounding irritable.

Now that he was God, rage didn’t turn his eyes red anymore. It turned them gold and blindingly bright, like spotlights. Fists clenched, he turned to see Dromos step into the penthouse, once again clad in the flesh of the late Father Kinley and wearing a leather jacket.

“Nice trick, making all the doors disappear. Finally decided to climb up the side of the building with a sledgehammer and burrow my way through into the elevator shaft,” said the demon, hands in his pockets and concrete dust coating his beard and his bald head. “I want to talk to you, sire.”

Storming across the room while Linda remained frozen, white-faced, on the couch, Lucifer snarled, “You! You have the nerve to come here, to stand before me, after what you did to my nephew?”

He took Dromos by the neck and lifted him off the ground, his wings opening in fury (he had six of them now).

Stoical even as he choked, Dromos said, “I need. To talk. I will leave immediately afterwards.”

“Oh, you’ll leave, alright! You’ll be lucky if I don’t throw you into an active volcano, you accursed traitor!”

Dromos’ stolen skin began to sizzle beneath his fingers. He waited until the demon’s face was wrinkled with pain before throwing him to the floor hard enough to crack the wood and make a crater.

“I will leave,” Dromos gasped, coughing up blood, “when I have spoken.”

“What could you possibly have to say for yourself? Kidnapper. Child-thief.”

Still on the couch, Linda said tremulously, “Lucifer, you’re… you’re hurting him. Stop it. Please.”

“Let us stay!” shouted Dromos, and coughed again before dragging himself up onto his knees. “On Earth. That’s what I came to say. Let your erstwhile subjects stay on Earth if they choose – at least, those who served you in the battle against Michael. Don’t force them to return to Hell. Let them, let us choose where we live, going forward. That’s my request, your Majesty. My only request.”

Lucifer boggled at him. “Is that a joke? Demons? On Earth, indefinitely, unsupervised? Are you out of your tiny mind, Dromos?”

Baring teeth, Dromos said, “Why not? What does it matter to you now? You’ve got everything you could possibly want. Everything anyone could possibly want! All we’re asking is the freedom to come and go as we please.”

“No.”

He spoke the word bluntly, and then he stepped back, adjusting his cuffs. Regaining his composure. “Never. You’re dangerous and untrustworthy. This world is for humans, not you. Good grief, haven’t I got enough to preoccupy my mind, without the added stress of demons rampaging around town?”

“We won’t rampage. We just-…”

“Why are you even coming to me with this? Mazikeen’s the new Queen of Hell. Didn’t you get the memo?”

Dromos wiped blood from his lips. “I don’t know if my sister and I are on speaking terms right now. And she may be Queen, but you’re God; I assumed you would be tasked with such decisions. After all, there’s never been a demon in charge of Hell before. We were told – we were always told – that only angels could rule us. I don’t doubt Mazikeen’s competence, but I…”

He seemed to run out of steam, spreading his hands and finishing weakly, “Lucifer, you’re the king. You’ve been the king for millions of years. For my entire life. Look, if you really don’t want us leaving Hell, then can you at least use your newfound power to improve it? Let us have the things mortals enjoy? Pianos, dogs, blankets, weekends, all that stuff?”

Lucifer rolled his eyes. “That would rather defeat the purpose, wouldn’t it? Hell is supposed to be a place of punishment. The ultimate consequence awaiting sinners. I need a carrot and a stick, Dromos. How else am I supposed to convince people to behave if I don’t? Imagine a rapist arriving in Hell and being confronted with demons playing pianos and walking their dogs. Wouldn’t have quite the desired effect, would it?”

Dromos was quiet for a moment, then said without inflection, “Perhaps you could find somewhere else to put rapists. Somewhere other than our home.”

Throwing up his arms, Lucifer said, “More demands! Don’t you see how selfish you’re being? Here I am, doing my best to end all suffering, and you’re complaining about babysitting a few evil-doers – which, might I remind you, is your job. Nay, your very reason for existence. Always has been. Why’re you getting stroppy about it now?”

“I think,” Linda began, taking a tentative step forward before stopping and clearing her throat. “Excuse me. May I interrupt? Um. Okay, so I think that maybe Dromos has a point here, Lucifer.”

“Doctor! This is the creature that stole your baby!”

“Yes, I know. And I’m not saying I forgive him for that, but…”

“I wasn’t going to eat the brat,” Dromos grumbled. “I was going to make him a king.”

“You took him away from his mother!” Lucifer shouted.

“Gentlemen!” said Linda, sharply. “Please! Let’s try to talk this through like adults.”

Overcome with frustration, and only vaguely aware that he’d not been sleeping well lately, Lucifer kicked the nearest chair. “I can’t believe you’re siding with him, doctor.”

“I’m not siding with anyone. I-…”

“You don’t know these people like I do. You didn’t spend millions of years in Hell alongside them. The only demon you’ve ever gotten acquainted with is Maze, and she’s not like the others; even without a soul, she’s learned how to behave like a more-or-less civilised adult, barring the occasional tantrum. But your average, baseline demon has nothing to them besides wrath and cruelty. Lilith made them to be weapons and that’s all they really are. I mean – just imagine, for a moment, how hard it was for me. To go from the Silver City, the most beautiful place ever created, to a lightless nightmare realm full of these bloodthirsty animals. To be surrounded by them, for endless eons, while they nattered mindlessly on and on about how much they love torture and pain and…”

He trailed off. Linda and Dromos were both looking past him.

To the elevator. Where – oh – Mazikeen was standing.

Where Mazikeen was crying.

No sobs, not like when Dan had died. No expression at all, really. Just open eyes, motionless muscles, and steady tears.

Before Lucifer could say a word, she pressed the button to close the elevator doors.

“Wait!” he yelped, sprinting over to stop them.

He needn’t have bothered. Now that he was God, objects did whatever he told them to do. The doors stilled, half-open.

“That sounded wrong,” he acknowledged, clasping her shoulders in apology. “You completely missed the context. What I was trying to say was-…”

“Don’t touch me.”

It was a phrase he’d heard many times before from mortal lovers to whom he had accidentally revealed his Devil Face. Some of them said it in horror. Some of them, the religious ones, said it in anger.

Mazikeen looked neither horrified nor angry. She looked sick. As though the very sight of him turned her stomach.

Lumbering over, Dromos stepped into the elevator alongside her and pointedly pressed the button again. With no idea what to do or say, Lucifer allowed the machinery to work.

The elevator closed.

“What have I done?” he asked Linda.

Nothing I didn’t know.

“Maze?” called Eve, waiting by the car with the others as Mazikeen stepped out of Lux’s front door and into the sunlight.

The door hadn’t been there when they’d arrived. She’d been forced to use Dromos’ route. Lucifer must have decided to put it back. He could do that now. Just decide things. Didn’t need servants, nor followers, nor anyone. Sure didn’t need a ‘more-or-less civilised adult’ whose kin were animals.

“Maze! Wait!”

Mazikeen didn’t know where she was going, only that she was walking very quickly and felt that she’d die if she stopped. She heard Eve’s heels patter on the pavement and heard her say her name a third time, quiet and worried, and that was what stilled her feet.

“What happened?” murmured Eve, cupping her face.

The fifty or so demons who’d been standing around outside Lux when Amenadiel had set the car and its passengers down were still there. Instead of chanting to get their king’s attention, they were now looking at her.

Michael and Amenadiel stood among them, the latter having been trying to convince them to stop blocking traffic.

Which was what she should have been doing. It was what he’d brought her here to do. But she’d been gripped by a sudden, violent need to see Lucifer, to check on him, just quickly, before tending to her siblings. Once a bodyguard, always a bodyguard.

Except that wasn’t what I was. Not to him. To him, I was a Rottweiler on a leash.

“Are you alright?” asked Amenadiel, his eyes overflowing with concern.

That was what cracked her.

To him. Not to everyone. Not to Eve, or Amenadiel, or Linda. It’s not that I’m incapable of earning love and respect.

I’m just incapable of earning his.

Her legs gave out. She crumpled against Lux’s outside wall and started to weep properly, loud and bitter.

Eve immediately dropped down beside her, holding her tight. Michael shuffled closer, rubbing his shoulder while his mouth opened and shut, testing out sentences that were never spoken.

Then Dromos was there, kneeling, his face sad and tired.

“We did what we were told,” she said to him in Lilim, through sniffles. “We obeyed. We were loyal. We… we…”

“We are alone, sister,” he replied. “But I think we always were.”

“We obeyed!”

“We obeyed Lilith and she left. We obeyed Lucifer and he left. No one wants us, Mazikeen. It’s just the truth.”

She took a shuddering breath and squeezed her eyes shut. “No. I want us.”

Seizing his jacket’s shoulder, she hauled herself to her feet and addressed the crowd, her voice raw: “I want you! You’re my family and I want you! And I swear I will be the queen you deserve, for as long as you’ll have me!”

Her human skin fell away, the left side of her face turning cold, bony, and brittle.

Stepping back to join their siblings, Dromos asked hesitantly, “What would you have us do, then, my queen? What are your orders?”

Hurriedly drying her eyes, she studied them one by one. “Whoever wants to can stay here. But I’m going home. Hell is going to be ours, Dromos. No more damned souls. No more angels. It’s ours now and we’re going to make it into something we can love.”

She turned to face Eve and Michael, her heart pounding. “You’ll come with me, yeah? You’ll stand with me?”

“Always,” said Eve, closing in to kiss her.

“Whatever,” Michael muttered, clearly just relieved that the crying part was over.

Amenadiel sighed, shaking his head gravely. “Mazikeen, are you sure this is what you want? You won’t be able to leave Hell on your own – you’ll need to contact me.”

“Yeah. At least until this one grows his feathers back,” she said, gesturing at Michael. “That’s okay. You’ll always come when I call, right?”

“Of course. You’re my friend, Maze. I’m sorry if I haven’t said that often enough.”

Fuck it. Cringing on the inside, Mazikeen drew Amenadiel into a quick, gruff hug. “You too, idiot.”

TO BE CONTINUED

#lucifer #mazikeen #lucifer morningstar #eve #michael #michael demiurgos #amenadiel #dan espinoza #linda martin #fanfic #my fic

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makeste · 4 years

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BnHA Vigilantes Chapters 59 - 65: Emergency Catch-Up Blog

before I start, please be advised that the following post will contain a potential MAJOR SPOILER FOR CHAPTER 253, which has not yet been released! please don’t be an idiot like me and spoil yourselves, guys. stay safe.

but anyways yes, this is my recap post for Those Chapters of Vigilantes. at long last. hooray! by the way this is barely edited at all, on account of it being a rush job (see re: the “Emergency” bit in the header). just some raw, unfiltered, [CENSORED SPOILER THING] thoughts and feelings! hopefully it’s readable; when I have more time I’ll try and clean it up a bit more.

so now, first off, credit where credit is due because omg

bless you anon, you saved my life

but let me backtrack! looool so guys, I did a dumb thing and peeked at a spoiler, and read the name “Shirakumo”, and was like FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK and noped out, but it was too late lol. so then I was like “HOW DO I CATCH UP ON THE ENTIRETY OF VIGILANTES IN LESS THAN TWENTY-FOUR HOURS”, fully aware that I probably wasn’t going to do shit and would most likely just spend tomorrow apologizing and shrugging my way through the new chapter. and by the way guys, I’ll go ahead and throw in one of those apologies now, because I’ve had at least a dozen anons implore me to pick up Vigilantes, and I’m fully aware that Aizawa’s past has been covered (including one (1) cloudy boi), and that it’s really good. I just haven’t had the energy to do it! because reading and liveblogging are two very different things, and the latter just takes so much more time and energy honestly. so I kept putting it off and off and off, and now here I am

but then this ask came along telling me exactly which chapters to read in order to get the context I need! so seriously anon, you are the MVP of my week, and I appreciate this so, so much. I am now off to read those chapters, and I apologize to everyone again, but while I will liveblog them, it’ll probably be kind of a rush job due to the circumstances. like I won’t get into every single detail here, because it’s six whole chapters. but I’ll do my best

hmm I don’t know what constitutes the second half of chapter 59 lol so here I am reading the whole damn thing

AIZAWA BEING FRIENDS WITH MIDNIGHT, AND MIDNIGHT HAS A CAT OH GOSH

looool

personally, Aizawa hated school. he would never ever dream of becoming a teacher. how ridiculous. irrational af

“we’ll have you teaching at U.A. soon enough” psssh. not this man, sister

he’s hanging up on her now. honestly I am glad I did not skip the first part of this chapter lol

some wolfman is chasing the protag of this series whose name I forgot, as well as a little girl and ANOTHER CAT. this series has so many cats?! apparently!?

Aizawa is saving the cat. the hero we deserve

the protag whose name I am about to look up wants to adopt the cat, which prompts Aizawa to launch into a 2500-word essay on why he should not adopt the cat

okay the kid’s name is Koichi. he’s apparently 19 in the series, but I don’t know how old he is in this particular scene though because I have the vague impression that the series at large takes place in present-day BnHA time, which would mean this is definitely a flashback. so. ??

OHO, NOW IT’S A FLASHBACK WITHIN A FLASHBACK!!? so this is the Aizawa past thing everyone’s been all “!!!!” about. well here you go guys

young Shouta is staring at an abandoned kitty in a box in the rain

he left the cat, but also left his umbrella over it, awww

and he arrived at class all wet. and his teacher says he can go change his clothes, but he’s all “NAH I’M EMO SO I’LL JUST STAY LIKE THIS”, wow

“I’m powerless” jesus christ Shou get a grip

here comes Present Mic to forcibly lift his best bud’s spirits. they’re in second year apparently

Present Mic, and I mean this in the most loving and affectionate way possible, is the most annoying man on the planet

how was he not just constantly punched in the face at all times. like constantly walking around being punched by people

well well well

something horrible is sure going to happen to you, isn’t it? here I thought you were probably dead, but I’m kinda getting the inkling [SPOILERS, FOLKS, I’M SERIOUS] you’re gonna maybe show up in the latest chapter of the main series, so I guess not! congratulations I guess?? OR MAYBE NOT

“dammit Shirakumo” oh so it’s like that

their teacher deserves a raise. never thought we’d see another U.A. faculty member more done with life than Aizawa himself

hey Shirakumo is giving Shouta his umbrella back, but what about the cat?! SHIRAKUMO ARE YOU REALLY A NICE GUY, I’M NOT SURE YET

meanwhile he’s stripping naked in the middle of class. oh yes. I forgot Vigilantes was like this

he’s using his cloud quirk to censor himself where it counts

“and inside this cloud... is this charming little creature” lol we think he’s talking about his penis but then he pulls out the cat! WELL NEVER MIND THEN SHIRAKUMO

so Shouta is sitting around thinking emo thoughts that are gradually giving way to some decidedly un-hetero thoughts about Shirakumo, who’s doing that shounen thing where he smiles with his eyes closed while being silhouetted against the bright sun. maaaaan. Aizawa you are hella gay my dude

okay next chapter and they’re being assigned internships

Shirakumo’s hero costume is... well let’s just say it’s a good thing he’s got such a badass quirk

he’s riding around on that cloud like Goku. like a fucking Lakitu from Super Mario

now the teachers are talking about the three boys and whether they’ll be able to land internships

“Yamada shouldn’t have a problem. his voice quirk has applications in battle, rescue, and entertainment. but the boy’s a bit distractible.” okay first of all how the hell would Mic ever rescue a person with his quirk. fucking scream them to safety or what. and second, by distractible you mean punchable right. again, all the love

oh my god he’s so cute

lmao this is seriously my favorite picture of Aizawa ever. GO GETTEM SLUGGER

so Shouta is getting bullied by some guy with a decidedly Katsuki-ish quirk, except he shoots jets of fire out of his hands. but anyway he says that fighting Shouta is boring. SHUT UP, YOU. YOU’RE BORING

Shouta is so emo. but he really does want to be a good hero, he just doesn’t know how. he seems very frustrated

he’s lecturing Kumo on not giving people-food to the cat. and now he has picked up the cat and is cradling and bottle-feeding it like an infant. bless

this manga really has a gag panel of the cat pissing on Shirakumo afterwards, like. see this is another reason why I haven’t exactly been in a rush to read it sob. my sense of humor doesn’t really seem to align with Furuhashi’s

oH MY GOD

high school Midnight is the coolest person I have ever seen and I want to be just like her when I grow up

aaaaand she is literally not wearing any clothes except that belt and those boob-holsters. which, I mean, it’s not like she really dresses any differently in the main series, but this being Vigilantes, I’m sure we’ll get another half a dozen pages showing extreme close-ups of her costume from various angles. again, another area where this series and I don’t quite see eye to eye, but it’s all right since we’re just passing through here

and one year later they wrote a literal law limiting how much exposed skin a hero costume can show. oh Midnight. meanwhile I forgot how much this series makes me appreciate Horikoshi, flaws and all. I’ll take a thousand Minetas over this shit honestly. at least Mineta always gets his comeuppance. but anyway

they have named the cat “Sushi”

Midnight is straight up taking the cat lmao

Yamada got an internship. one down, two to go

Midnight’s back and showing them a video of the cat pooping. one joke about the cat’s bathroom habits in a single chapter was not enough, we’re going for two. not like we have anything more important to cover, like Aizawa getting an internship and something terrible and tragic happening to his boyfriend. let’s just keep talking about cat poop

okay here we go, Midnight says her boss will take them as interns

“Loud Cloud” lmao. home run hero name. GOAT

so Shouta’s chasing a villain and nearly got crushed by a safe that he threw at him, but he’s being saved by some guy who I’m guessing is his boss

oh my

this is the kind of weirdness that only a manga can get away with. I wonder how this idea came into being and whose idea it was, Horikoshi’s or Furuhashi’s. maybe the two of them hitting each other up back and forth in a text chain. “so I’m doing Aizawa’s flashback now, who do you want to have him to intern under?” “hmm I don’t know but I was thinking literally Prince”

Prince is chewing Shouta out something fierce

I thought I was prepared for these Aizawa flashbacks, but some things you can never be prepared for

lol he asked Shouta how he fucked up, and Shouta started listing all of his tactical errors, and Prince interrupted him and is all “I’M TALKIN’ ‘BOUT THAT GLOOMY FACE” listen son just who do you think your intern is. THAT’S JUST HIS FACE LEAVE HIM ALONE

he says Aizawa wears his stress all over his sleeve and bums people out

he’s telling him to smile! now where have we heard that philosophy before

hello

I’m just reblogging this panel because of reasons

so Shouta is sulking in the locker room, and Shirakumo is showering off and says his MO is to keep smiling even when he screws up

now Midnight is texting Shouta 500 cat pictures

lmao we can’t see Shouta’s face, but Kumo is streaking in and is all “THERE’S THAT SMILE, SUNSHINE!!!!”

OH SHIT NOW IT’S A FEW DAYS LATER AND THE VILLAIN IS BACK BUT THIS TIME SHOUTA DONE GOT HIM SOME GOGGLES!! the path from adorable to sexy begins. the Longbottoming

oh shit the goggles belong to Shirakumo. the gayening. and they were roommates

Shouta’s using his quirk!

and the bad guy is all “I don’t need my quirk to crush you” and straight up demolishing the fucking pavement yikes

and Kumo is leaping at him from above and whomping him on the head

yay they caught him. and Shouta is...

he’s trying. they’ll coax a real smile out of him yet! just show him a Youtube compilation of Logical Ruses

now he and Shirakumo have matching pairs of goggles. I’m just gonna assume this means they are married

the fire hands bully guy from earlier is coming over to start some shit again

he says he also realized the importance of eye protection through his internship. and Mic says he stole the idea from him

now the class is partnering off for two-on-two battle training, and Kumo is partnering with Shouta

they’re going up against Mic and Fire Hands, and for some reason they’re making a wager of it. whoever loses has to stop wearing glasses. this is easily the stupidest thing I have seen in this series yet, not to mention the most accurate

Kumo’s grinning at Shouta and saying the goggles symbolize their friendship and they have to defend them. you know, lovable scamp stuff

now Shirakumo and Shouta are double teaming the Fire Hands guy and taking him out in seconds because OF COURSE THEY DID. lol he never fucking stood a chance

but Shouta’s handing the glasses back and says that two-on-one isn’t fair so he’s calling the wager off

aaaand Fire Hands is snatching them back and stomping on them. and says he doesn’t need them

listen you dingus, yes you do fucking need them. and also he says he didn’t lose! wow this guy really has his head up his ass. I’d say he reminds me of a CERTAIN SOMEONE, but you know what, I’ll give Mr. Certain Someone his fair credit though, because he managed to get his shit together long before his second year. Fire Hands still needs to grow up

the teacher is telling him he missed the point of the exercise, and FH is literally ignoring him and running off wow

apparently Mic also gave up his sunglasses and got himself a pair of goggles. well we know that’s not gonna last. and for that matter, Shouta’s gonna change out his goggles for a different model as well. ohhhhh some tragedy is on the horizon I just know it, this is gonna hurt

Shirakumo says the three of them should start their own agency. ahhh. buddy I’m here reading this from the future, and I gotta tell you, son... shit’s awkward as fuck

and he’s pointing out all the different ways they complement each other’s strengths and weaknesses

Shouta says he can’t do anything on his own, but Kumo says that just means he’s suited to teamwork

Kumo’s inviting Midnight to join them, but she’s declining lol

Shouta’s looking at the sky all dramatically. oh baby this is it isn’t it. things are about to get rough

“one week later”

NOO THEY HURT MY PRECIOUS PRINCE

SOMEONE IS CALLING FOR BACKUP AND THE CAMERA IS ZOOMING IN ON A BUSTED UP PAIR OF GOGGLES, FUCK EVERYTHING

now we’re cutting to Mic and Fire Hands and FH replaced his sunglasses with a pair of goggles. goggles are just the in thing now

Fire Hands talks about Aizawa so much I’m starting to ship the two of them now as well. damn Shouta how many high school boyfriends did you have??

so they’re fighting off some toad monster and it’s absorbing all their attacks

meanwhile Shouta and Kumo are literally helping kindergartners to cross the street

look at this

it’s beyond my comprehension how anyone could possibly mistake this man for anything but a future teacher

even Kumo is commenting on how natural he is at working with kids

oH MY GOD the kids waved goodbye and said “bye Eraserhead” and it prompted a little smile

Kumo says Shouta psychs himself out and convinces himself he can’t do stuff, but really he can do just about anything if he puts his mind to it. aww. and he’s right!!

oh shit here comes the toad

so this toad’s name is Garvey, and he’s literally wanted for murder oh shit. and he has a Fatgum-like quirk that can absorb attacks and store them up to release them

and some idiots hit him with a combined attack that ended up powering him the fuck up. well shit

so Prince is placing a rose in between his teeth and getting ready to fight this toad off. do it I believe in you

now a lot is happening all at once, jesus. Shouta and Kumo were trying to evacuate the kids but then the toad just appeared right there like wtf, and then Prince also showed up out of nowhere and went to hit the thing with a flying jump kick

aaaand he’s getting blasted into a building

oof. and getting even further blasted now. welp

Kumo’s protecting the kiddos with his Nimbus quirk!

OH FUCKING SHIT AND THEN HE GOT CRACKED IN THE HEAD BY A GIANT FALLING ROCK

is this bitch fucking dead now. I can’t believe they fucking Obitoed my bro Shirakumo

so now the toad is looming over them, and Shouta realizes he’s the only one left standing, and all his doubts are filtering into his mind as he desperately tries to think of how to stop him

and Shirakumo’s... gourd... thing... is klunking in out of nowhere, and it has a little speaker on it, and it’s all “YOU GOT THIS AIZAWA” and wtf. this is like something out of a weird fever dream

OH SHIT BOYS AIZAWA SHOUTA DONE GOT HIS GAME FACE ON NOW

THE LONGBOTTOMING CONTINUES

so now he’s leaping fifty feet into the air, somehow, and thinking that his Erasure quirk will at least level the playing field. well all right then! you go boy

now it’s raining and of course bolts of lightning are dramatically hitting the ground all around them

Shouta’s kicking off the lil power toad lumps one by one lol

literally just jumping all around and kickin’ stuff

oof he took a bad hit. but he’s sitting back up!

Kumo’s disembodied gourd voice keeps shouting encouragement at him though, idk. so there’s that

he says Shouta’s strong and he won’t lose, and Shouta is all “RAHHHHHHH.” you guys, if 1-A ever found out about this flashback they would never let the man live it down. hell I’m not gonna let him live it down. okay then. Mr. RAHHHHHH

he’s doing some weird stuff with his capture weapon now. I think maybe he grabbed a rock with it and chucked it at the guy

and now the guy is shooting all his toad lumps at Shouta all at once! WELL ALL RIGHT THEN

yooooo Shouta literally grabbed them all with the capture weapon and he’s CHUCKIN’ EM ALL INTO THE DUDE’S MOUTH Y’ALL THIS IS SOME REAL FUCKING SHIT LMAO GET WRECKED

so the guy is blowing up from the inside out. yeah that’s what you get for murdering Shouta’s childhood friend you piece of shit

and Shouta’s collapsing in exhaustion but happily shouting “SHIRAKUMO I DID IT” before he passes out. oh my god don’t tell me Kumo is already dead and Shouta just hallucinated his voice or some shit. THEN WHO WAS GOURD omg

oooooof here we go

[places both hands on Shouta’s shoulders and looks him dead in the eye] son I don’t know how to tell you this, but Shirakumo has been dead for twenty years

wow can someone just fucking tell Shouta already so he stops depressing everyone and making an idiot out of himself. geez how long are you all gonna stand around despondently shooting knowing looks at each other in the rain

so they’re picking up the gourd speaker thing and OF COURSE it’s visibly broken and there’s no possible way Kumo’s voice could have been coming out of it. especially since he has been dead for twenty years. here’s a picture of his grave. oh shit what’s that little grave right next to his?? OH MY GOD IT’S THE CAT. OH MY GOD

oh fuck me

Y’ALL REALLY DID THESE BABIES LIKE THAT. HORIKOSHI!! FURUHASHI!! GET OVER HERE RIGHT NOW I WANT A WORD!!

so now Fire Hands, who is trying his best to be comforting but is just SO BAD AT IT, is all “Aizawa you went toe to toe with this thing and beat it YOURSELF!! ALL ALONE!!!” jesus christ I need a minute

OH DAMN A CALLBACK TO THE RAIN “THIS KINDA FITS OUR VIBE RIGHT NOW” LINE but now it’s saaaaaaaad oh no

I mean. I knew going in that this was going to be Aizawa’s sad childhood flashback about his friend Shirakumo whom something very terrible happened to. it’s not like I’m even surprised. I knew what I was getting myself into here. but damn that still hurts

do you guys think that having a permanent image of his best friend forever immortalized as a cheerful seventeen-year-old, and being forever haunted by the memory of that seventeen-year-old being cut down in the prime of his life, might have given Aizawa Shouta lasting trauma which carried over into his adulthood and makes him do desperately reckless things when children are at risk, such as leaping into battle against an army of villains all alone. dammit now I want to grab every single problem child of 1-A and shake them roughly and scream at them for all the sleepless nights they have doubtless caused this man

so now here he and Mic are both being sad

aww Mic. I’m sorry I keep wanting to punch you in the face. it’s just reflex

and now it’s one year later and the class is gearing up for the sports festival

well look who is almost fully done with his metamorphosis

you will soon be a beautiful butterfly

he is literally going to sleep in the middle of class. well depression makes people tired. sigh

he’s got his familiar goggles now! and he’s kicking FH’s ass and lecturing him on how to fight better. damn his character development is complete

and he’s helping FH to his feet aww. definitely boyfriends. this man gets around

his teachers now say that Shouta has gotten too complacent, if anything, and phones everything in once he knows he’s got a passing grade, and only gets passionate when it comes to practical exercises

and now we’re cutting to the gym and Shouta is indeed training passionately while Mic sits in the corner looking bummed. all these kids have been through far too much in their young lives

Shouta’s handing in his career aspiration form, and he wrote that he wants to start his own agency and focus on “fighting, and nothing else”

his scruffy facial hair is already starting to come in now. it’s true what they say, having a tragic past does indeed make you hotter

anyways but can we get this boy a hug!? anybody?? hello??!?

now they’re graduating and Shouta is disappearing in a poof of smoke and now there’s this big panel with flashbacks to his career up to the current point in Vigilantes!

and we’re back in the ~present~ and he’s telling Koichi to take good care of that cat. aaaand, I guess that’s that. geez. that was a lot

so there you go! the Aizawa flashbacks! they were very sad! all in all I really enjoyed them! so now, if Shirakumo isn’t actually dead (seeing as it’s a shounen manga that pays homage to comic books, so safe to say that People Not Actually Being Dead is a Certified Phenomenon, like it’s definitely a THING THAT CAN SOMETIMES HAPPEN), well then. tomorrow’s chapter is sure going to be interesting to say the least. lulz but maybe I’ve got it all wrong though. guess I’ll find out!

#bnha 253 #bnha vigilantes #aizawa shouta #yamada hizashi #shirakumo oboro #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha vigilantes spoilers #makeste reads bnha #makeste reads vigilantes #the real question is what the hell ever happened to this prince guy #I refuse to believe he just disappeared off the face of the earth #how is he not a top ten hero #probably because he got knocked out by the toad villain in like two seconds #and his sixteen-year-old intern had to save his fabulous behind #well hats off to a legend #wherever he is now

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izzy-b-hands · 4 years

Text

You Send Me: Chapter Six

Tag List: @xmxisxforxmaybe

10 hour road trip with the boys time! New Haven to Detroit, if I have my locations correct (and god I hope I do, I spent a lot of time trying to make sure I had the most accurate tour listing from ‘78 lol.) No time to yourselves, but you and Freddie can make it work regardless, right? We get NSFW again in this bit, just a warning!

Also, Scrabble! (The reason you’re all really reading this, I’m sure lol.)

My love to all who read/like/reblog!

At least until you got on the van. Then, it was ‘hurry up and wait.’

“Makes sense,” John muttered as you all loaded up into the van, after a quick shower and retrieving your things from the hotel. “We had some extra time for once, so now the rest of the tour we’ll constantly be nearly late.”

“We’ll catch up,” Roger said patiently, staring down the Scrabble board. “Don’t worry.”

“I’m not worrying, I”m just saying,” John protested. “No sense in pretending it isn’t true.”

“Which is not what I’m doing,” Roger said, glaring down his letters as if that would magically make them change. “What I am doing is beating our dear Mr. Mercury here at Scrabble.”

“You have to actually play another word for the game to progress, and for you to do that, Rog,” Freddie smirked. “In case you’ve forgotten how to play.”

“Oh I know, and I’m playing,” Roger said, then proceeded to not put down a word, but frown again at the board.

“You want help?” Brian offered, and Roger and Freddie both hissed. “Jesus, sorry. Be careful, Y/N. They’re like angry cats when they get into it.”

“And you aren’t?” Freddie asked.

“No, I am too, but I’m not playing right now, so I’m not the concern,” Brian replied. “And there’s literally a spot, right there, Roger, come on!”

“I don’t see it yet, just give me a minute!”

“This is unbearable,” Brian muttered.

“Oh shut it,” Roger spat. “Or I’ll make you play against me next, and I’ll beat you too.”

“Anything but that,” Brian said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. “I could beat you in my sleep.”

“Is that so?”

“Lord help us,” John muttered and shot you a look as if to say ‘I’m so sorry for all this.’

But you were oddly loving it. It was something most people didn’t get to see, the brotherly spats and all that. And that was exactly what this struck you as, a bunch of brothers stuck on a road trip, already getting on each other’s nerves while barely a mile from home.

“I could play whoever wins,” you murmured. “Granted, I’ve only ever managed to beat my family members at Scrabble which isn’t saying much, but if you want a wild card...”

All four of them looked up at you and smiled.

“I like it,” Roger said. “Though I’ll apologize in advance for winning over both Freddie and you.”

“Might be a little premature, don’t you think?” you asked, and they cackled.

“He’s called your bluff!” Freddie crowed. “Come on, put something down, we’ve only got nine hours in this tin can.”

“It isn’t that bad,” John fussed, and you couldn’t blame him. As Queen’s main financial officer, he had helped the crew pick out the van for this tour, and was understandably miffed whenever anyone made a comment about it.

“No, it isn’t,” Freddie admitted. “Just a long drive, and that would be hell in anything. No harm meant, John.”

John nodded, and stood to peek at Roger’s letters. “Oh, there’s no way he can win. You’ve got this.”

“Would you stop making it harder for me to concentrate?” Roger gasped. “Jesus, all a man is trying to do is play Scrabble, and the ruddy peanut gallery can’t keep it down...”

“Give it your all, Rog,” Crystal called from where he was laying down on some of the seats.

“Thank you! Finally, someone believes in me,” Roger said. “That said...I don’t think I can find anything, these letters are absolute shit.”

Everyone hit the roof at that, laughter echoing throughout the van.

“All that talk,” Freddie shook his head. “You’ll get me next time.”

“Yes, yes, I will,” Roger agreed. “Besides, this is more fun for me now. We get to watch you play your new boyfriend.”

“That is a hell of a test on a relationship,” Brian said. “You sure about this, Y/N?”

You nodded, and traded seats with Roger as Freddie cleared the board and let John take over handing out the letter tiles. “I don’t think I’ll win anyway, and this one had better not let me.”

“I would never,” Freddie teased. “Only honorable victories and losses in this van.”

“Good,” you smiled, and tossed down the first word you saw in your letters.

“For fuck’s sake,” Brian laughed. “Is that the theme of this match?”

“Not the strongest first word,” John remarked as he took down your score from the C, O, C, and K you had laid down. “But not terrible either. I’d be interested to see if you could keep this match on theme too.”

Freddie smirked, then grinned at the shared laughter over his word.

“Freddie, honestly,” Roger shook his head. “Cunt is almost too short a word, you two will never finish this game in ten hours if you keep up like that.”

“Let them play,” John hushed him.

You set down TITS and watched as they broke into laughter again.

“What?” you asked. “Smaller than the ones I used to have, that isn’t anything ridiculous.”

Freddie shook his head. “You’re really going to keep it on theme, aren’t you?”

“If you will, then I will,” you replied with a smile.

It was an odd turn on, Scrabble, and you fully realized it maybe wasn’t the game itself so much as just flexing intellectually with Freddie that was doing it, but it made it hard to sit still, to focus on the game.

You figured Freddie was in a similar boat as he kept trying to tangle one of his legs with yours under the table, and you had a feeling you would have been in his lap had the table not been in the way, the Scrabble board tossed aside.

“Get out, stretch your legs,” Brian said as you finally stopped at what appeared to be a completely abandoned truck stop, your game with Freddie only half over. “We’ll get back on the road in half an hour. Long enough to try and get food out of these vending machines, use the bathroom, and feel less like sardines in a can.”

“Hey!” John cried, and you listened to him and Brian mutter on about the van as Freddie took your hand and led you into the truck stop.

It was nicer than you’d expected from a truck stop, with individual, walled off showering sections with locking doors. You had just a moment to admire them as Freddie pulled you into one, locked the door behind you, and damn near tackled you with a kiss.

“God that was unbearable,” Freddie muttered in between kisses. “I was praying we’d finally stop.”

You wanted to tell him ‘me too’ but instead nipped at his neck gently, making him gasp and whine.

“What if they come in here?” you managed after a moment, as Freddie’s hand undid the button and zipper on your jeans and slipped into your underwear.

“Then we tell them to either enjoy the show or get out,” Freddie replied with a smirk, before doing his magic again with his fingers. One inside of you, while his thumb gently worked at your clit, grown bigger from the testosterone. Maybe it was just that it was him, or that his fingers were wonderfully long and talented in general, but the combination left you struggling to stand upright against the wall of the shower.

Being quiet while he worked was also nearly impossible, and you pressed your mouth against his shoulder so you could moan and be relatively unheard, at least in theory. He seemed to like that even more, rutting his hard cock, still trapped in his trousers, against your hip, moving in time with how he moved his hand against you and inside.

You could feel all that lithe muscle you’d admired before working to hold you up as you came and your knees buckled underneath you. You tried to keep yourself upright, only to finally let yourself fall, grateful he’d already slipped his hand back out of your underwear.

“No, what are you doing, get up,” he whispered, hands reaching to help you up.

You shook your head, and popped open your mouth instead, tongue stuck out, and waited to see if he’d get the message.

“That is absolutely obscene,” he breathed softly. “Are you sure, I mean, you don’t have to-”

You nodded, and reached for the zipper of his trousers. “I want to. I mean, I’ve never actually done this before, so forgive me any mistakes, and give me feedback; I at least know you don’t use teeth-”

He interrupted you with a barely cut off laugh as he covered his mouth. “Christ. Not that you haven’t done it before, that’s not why I’m laughing. The teeth bit, that was it, but at the same time, I’m glad you know that.”

You giggled despite your nerves, and started to reach for his underwear, only for him to stop your hand.

“We should be doing this somewhere nicer. For your first time, I mean,” he said. “With more time. I don’t want you to have to rush and hate doing this as a result or something, I mean your first time sets the standard.”

He pulled you to your feet, then pulled you close to him by your hips, and kissed you softly.

“Well, we’re not leaving here if you don’t get to come too,” you murmured in between his kisses. “What a concert hold up announcement that would be.”

He only smiled, and didn’t stop you as your hand moved to his cock, stroking him gently through his underwear.

“Is that okay?” you asked. “For here, at least. For now.”

He nodded, letting his head drop onto your shoulder, his hips rutting up to meet your hand as you palmed his cock, your thumb moving over the head slowly.

You could hear Brian shouting something outside, and realized you were running out of time, if you weren’t out completely already.

“If this is too much, or bad or whatever, just say, and I’ll stop,” you whispered into Freddie’s ear, stroking more vigorously, letting your own hips move against his. His last reaction to your teeth at his neck had been good, and this one was even better, as you nipped just hard enough to make him hiss in your ear at the sensation.

Before you could nip again, you felt his cock pulse, and it was your turn to hold him up as he came, groaning into your neck as he did.

“For fuck’s sake, wherever you two are, hurry up! We can’t leave you behind, but we can threaten to!” Brian’s voice echoed into the showers.

Freddie raised his head, only for the two of you to break into giggles.

“We’re in trouble,” he laughed.

“I think we are,” you agreed. “We pissed off Dad. Two kids, out running around, making out in public-”

“Little bit more than that,” Freddie interrupted with a smile and a kiss.

“True,” you said. “Are you okay to go back out there? I mean, we didn’t really think this through in terms of your trousers.”

“It’s dark,” he said. “It’ll be fine. And even if they do see...they probably guessed where we were, what we were up to. So let them see, because they won’t give a fuck, so why should we?”

If anyone did give a fuck, they didn’t say it as you and Freddie joined them back in the van, settling onto one of the back seats, lounging against each other, content and tired.

The Scrabble game had been forgotten, but you didn’t mind. There were plenty of cities yet, and more than enough time to start another. In the meantime, you were happy to lay in Freddie’s lap, watching with him as Brian and Roger swore at each other over a match.

There were still at least six hours, and you hoped there might be another truck stop along the way.

#text post #LeeH writes #Queen band fic #freddie mercury x reader #freddie mercury x male reader

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friday-ocean · 5 years

Text

Be my Baby - Part 1/2

Part 1 ~ Part 2

Summary: Bucky and his comrades find by chance a nice little dinner that even offers Eastern European specialties. As a waitress you have seen many soldiers come to the diner, but Bucky is different. Paring: 40!BuckyBarnes & Female!Reader Warnings: smut (kissing, unprotected vaginal sex - Protect yourselves!) Words: ca. 4200

For @interestedbystanderwrites writing challenge!

~*~*~*~*~

New York in spring 1943

At night all cats are grey. Since the beginning of the new, terrible overseas war, life on the streets of New York seems to have become bleaker. While at the beginning of the year even at late hours colourful figures populated the streets, they now lie empty and abandoned. The few who seek their way, however, are silent and sad figures. Even the warm, flickering light of the gas lanterns does not seem to illuminate their faces.

What do they want? What is their task? Where is their goal?

At the end of the street block, however, the darkness and dreariness are broken by warm rays of light. Besides all the closed dance clubs and cafés, this little diner looks like the last bastion of warmth and safety. The daily business so far has been quiet. A few businessmen, an old retired couple and two students who had clearly drunk too much coffee. Now, in the late afternoon, no more guests are expected: it is still too early for dinner, too late for coffee and cake.

With clever fingers you fold the freshly washed and fortified napkins - from your place in the kitchen you have the whole room in view. The bell above the entrance door announces new guests, curiously you raise the gaze. In the entrance there is a group of five soldiers. Not an unusual sight in times of war, but these are young, strong men with freshly shaved faces, in their finest dress uniforms. Leave the napkins on your left and quickly smooth your apron over your skirt.

With a smile you greet the group, the menu cards already in your hand. "A table for five?" you ask, and everyone involved nods. You lead the group to a small box quite far away from the counter. In your experience, the boys will soon roar and laugh so loudly that every other guest will leave the small diner annoyed.

One of the soldiers pulls up a chair to sit at the short edge of the table, the others sit down on the two benches. Each receives a menu card from you before you pull a small notepad and pencil out of the pocket of your apron. "Do you already like something to drink? Or look at the card first?" Instead of getting an answer all shake their heads and look concentrated into the menu. Funny, you withdraw behind the counter. The five soldiers are all much bigger and stronger, together they make an impressive picture. But as soon as one of them must stand alone, they can hardly open their mouths.

A clearing of the throat wakes you up from your observations. One of the soldiers had left the group and stepped up to you at the counter. A cheeky little grin surrounds his lips, but much more fascinating are his light blue eyes, which fix you from long eyelashes. The clarity of his gaze is so overwhelming that you are drawn directly into his spell. Imagining your fascination, his grin gets even bigger. "We ask ourselves," he begins, leaning on the counter, "what today's dish is." With his big hand he pushes a menu card over the counter and points with his long index finger to the paragraph "Please ask us for our daily specials!

This dandy with the dark, combed back hair is aware of his effect on the female sex. But it takes a little more than a few pretty eyes, big hands and long fingers to get you off your game. With a professional smile, you point to the blackboards hanging above you: "Does nobody teach you to read in the soldier school? A tender blush forms on his cheeks. He doesn't seem to be used to cheeky answers from women. ‘Cute', you think. You'll still have a lot of fun with this pretty boy today.

The beau had once again taken a seat with his comrades, who had, however, only conditionally noticed his little excursion; she was too captivated by the sight of your colleague hurrying to the entrance at the large window front. Perfectly styled curls, a wide swinging skirt and the much too sweet scent of her perfume brought her the attention of everyone. She gives you an apologetic look before flitting into the kitchen. A glance at your wristwatch tells you that she now must explain her 37-minute delay to the boss. Enough time for you to quickly take the soldiers' orders. Once dear Fanny had taken up her post at the bar, the soldiers couldn't think clearly any more...

"Decided?" you ask into the rune and twist the pencil between your fingers. Burger, milkshake, coke, cheeseburger', you write down. "Pelmeni." "Pelmeni?" you ask and raise your gaze. The pretty boy smiles: "The one with meat and sour cream with it." You nod and write down his wish: "Tea with sugar and cream with it"? "Of course," his smile is so charming that you can't hold back and give him a little smile as well.

Passing the order on to the kitchen triggers a little turmoil. Cookware rattles, the cook screams something incomprehensible to the kitchen boy. Meanwhile you take care of the drinks. You're amazed at the beauty's order. Pelmeni is an Eastern European speciality and today's dish. The cook of the diner immigrated some years ago from Eastern Europe to New York, opened the diner, offers burgers and meat loaf and lives the American dream. Yet his European soul lives on: every day in a different dish of the day, in tea and in ice-cold vodka. Normally only old friends or guest workers ordered these specialities, such a young man is unusual!

Fanny has meanwhile agreed to bring the heavy tray to the table with the soldiers. No real miracle. As soon as she sensed the chance to flirt with young men, she had the greatest zeal for work imaginable! But mercy to her God, as soon as the rag or the bucket called, any snail could overtake her. The young men seem to be really taken with Fanny. They speak directly louder, laugh with Fanny about some avoidably funny comment.

Suddenly a bright pointed scream sounds and you hear glass break. Apparently Fanny had overreached himself with the heavy tray. When she took a glass down to give it to the soldier, she lost her balance and the whole tray fell into the beau's lap. Quickly you hurry up with a rag to help your colleague, who has solidified directly into a pillar of salt.

"Excuse me! What a terrible accident", you try to excuse your colleague. "Oh woe...", the last milkshake had fallen into the beau's lap, the sticky liquid covered his entire uniform jacket. "Oh, that's not so bad," he tries to talk down the misfortune. "We'd better wash out the stain right away. Dried milk is really disgusting...", you grab the young man by the arm and pull him up from his seat. "Fanny catches the rag with big eyes. She won't be able to avoid this cleaning work this time.

Together with the young man you disappear behind a door that shows 'Private' in big letters. The door hides a small laundry room in which all cleaning things, buckets and old boxes are stored. The light flickers and you push the man in front of you. "Take off your jacket and give it to me," you say decisively. From one of the shelves you look for a light rag and curd soap, while hot water runs into the large sink. "I want to apologize again for my colleague", you say and want to take the jacket.

You draw in the air sharply. Jesus Christ! What a sight! The olive-green uniform shirt stretched slightly over the raised chest, caressing his narrow shoulders and waist. With a shy smile he hands you the heavy jacket. "It's really not necessary for you to apologize. Nor is it necessary for you to go to the extra trouble of washing the jacket. You shrug your shoulders and stroke the collar of the uniform jacket inconspicuously as you spread it out over the sink. "I can't let her go back to the barracks with a dirty jacket. What will your commander say to you, Mr. Barnes?"

"How does she know my name," the soldier blinks at you in surprise. A mischievous smile surrounds your lips: "Shall I tell them the greatest secret of waitresses? The young man takes a big step towards you, now stands close behind you. Your smile gets even bigger: "We can read!" Your wet finger points to the shining name tag.

A throaty laugh rings out and only now do you realize how close he is to you. His warm breath tickles your neck, his aftershave, a mixture of citrus and warm wood, clouds your senses. Swallowing hard you try to concentrate on your work. To your satisfaction, the biggest stain was already washed out. "But please call me Bucky."

With your eye brown raised, you stop moving: "Bucky?" "Short for 'Buchanan'. 'James Buchanan Barnes' to be exact." Continuing with your action again, you dare to ask yourself another question that is already burning on your tongue. "How come you know Pelmeni, Bucky? His name rolls naturally over your lips.

"My mother cooks the best pelmeni. Who knows, if I like yours, I might come by more often." "Then we will soon see you more often. Our Russian specialties are the best in New York!" "Does that mean I'll see you again?" His question is almost a whisper against your ear. Involuntarily, heat rises your cheeks. Bucky comes a little closer to you, puts his upper body against your back. You feel his sinewy chest and can't resist the urge to squeeze on him.

Devoutly you hope that he puts his big hands on your hips. But suddenly the door is torn open and bright light streams into the dim room. You immediately worry about what people only think when they see you and Bucky standing so close together. Fanny looks at you with narrow eyes: "Will you give me the mop?"

Blinking, you register that Bucky is no longer behind you. In a flash he brought as much distance between you as is possible in the small room. With his arms crossed, he leans against the shelf of cleaning products, smiling friendly, as if he had nothing to do with the redness and heat in your face. To get to the mop, you push past Bucky, his gaze rests on you, a cheeky glint makes his bright eyes shine even brighter. You pass the mop to Fanny and try to hide your excitement: "I'll help you immediately. The jacket is clean already". Fanny only nods with curly lips and the door slams shut behind - the light now dim and warm again.

One last swab with the cloth and the uniform jacket is clean again: "Now just let it dry and you can dare to go back to the barracks". With a bright smile Bucky accepts the jacket: "Thank you! The waitress in this diner is really wonderful." Playfully annoyed, you twist your eyes. Before Bucky can approach again, you open the door and walk into the bright light.

Bucky is not the first soldier to try to get closer to you. Apparently, the belief in one's own irresistibility is handed over with the uniform. But this time you can't soothe the blush and your fast beating heart as easily as you go back to the counter...

~*~*~*~*~

Part 2

#interestedbystanderwrites #bucky x reader smut #bucky fanfic #bucky barns x reader #bucky barns smut #marvel smut #marvel #my writing

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italianfish · 4 years

Text

Here’s some things that I’ve overheard recently

- That bridge was created by erosion

- Holy tolino that’s a nice tree!

- Ivy! There’s the guy we don’t like (Trump in a car)

- Why wouldn’t you want to be king? You could get corgis, they’re adorable

- That’s not an allergy, that’s a life choice

- Are you that one guy? Are you DongleMc DongleSon?

- Woooo! CHEMEX!

- THE FURIES ARE COMING

- I NEED A BOYFRIEND AND A SWEATSHIRT

- I wonder what animal that is? Oh wait, it’s a log

- Just a cone, no ice cream. I don’t like ice cream

- My chicken BLT came without the chicken!

- I should have kept the headband from the tampons

- You’ve been reduced to a codename

- Hug, Marry, Exile, the Brucified sleepover game

- It’s just the toes

- Parf Tarts

- It’s crispy?!?!

- When I’m like, 60, I’m going to do drugs

- What really is life without watching Bob Ross?

- 13 YEARS!!!

- Stacy’s mom is Parker’s grandma~

- EmBruce it

- It’s not a water break, it’s a hydration break

- That bird is using a crosswalk!

- I don’t know any colleges in Massachusetts!

- What even is frick without frack

- I’m emotionally offended by your haircut

- That’s like a cat fart

- Someone just shat

- I’M NOT A CHILD PREDATOR DEANNA!!!

- I’ll sue that movie, they stole my idea (Just finished watching Hotel Transylvania 3)

- See, Amanda. That’s your noise

- My mom told me that if you sleep with your phone under your pillow you get fat

- If he were gay he’d be adorable

- He’s racist to chairs

- Flarion is my boob

- Don’t throw the ball at the referee, it’ll hurt his feelings

- Fuck yeah, your name’s Keith

- Can you deep throat a firecracker?

- Your earlobe is soft

- I would sell my toes for my old hair

- It’s like eating a period, NO

- What a funny looking animal (Giraffe)

- Giraffes are the most ridiculous animals

- Ew, keep your ebola away from me

- Look at that glass shard, that must be uncomfortable

- Do sloths have ears?

- Lip jellies freak me out

- A: I have three boobs (Sloth in shirt) B: I have uh.... Arthritis

- Instagram knows I’m lonely

- Knock on any Nonna’s door and tell them you’re Jewish and they’ll pity you and throw you a feast

- But this time it’s just the nose

- I want Granny panties

- Why do we only have confidence when our shirts are off?

- Why is an 8 year old twerking on my leg

- She has curves, you have rectangles

- I’m depressed, give me your water

- Dude! I look like a freaking lion!

- My loofa unraveled...

- I’m eating ramen with a singular coffee straw

- These walls better be soundproof (Amanda loudly singing in the background)

- I’m ready for my 4am Taco Bell runs

- Wifi in Spanish is wee-fee

- I didn’t see the body

- We should crochet together

- Yeah! I was a baby model.

- I don’t know if he likes me or if he’s just the gay best friend

- Have you pooped this week? You need to poop

- You’ve got all your limbs and you’re ready to go

- I need affection

- Diego’s eating rocks again~

- Wait. You’re instagramming my dog?

- I love letting people know what I’m up to

- It’s so funny, it’s like the ying and the yang

- You’re in my world now Grandma

- Two nipples? I don’t need nipples

- You are one gassy fellow

- You’ve got a lot of nerve showing up on our side of the bus

- I can never tell if you’re just depressed or listening to music

- I’ve got a photo shoot coming up for a calendar, for hot teachers with 6-packs. I’m October

- 38 on rotten potatoes!

- I’m hungry, I’m delirious

- DON’T PINCH MY CHUB

- I love clapping thighs in the evening

- Dude, I’m so ready to mingle

- Do you have a magician book

- Let’s taste those minerals

- The sauce is forever

- Why is everything so straight

- The right nipples don’t deserve rights

- We used to have a zebra and he was vicious

- Very important, I forgot shoes

- You look like a lumber snack

- A: I’m the only one here who looks like a hobo B: Really? Say that again A: We can be hobos together

- Woah dude! Can we take a picture of you? *Truck next to the bus*

- What were you guys doing? Bathing yourselves in the toilet?

- I want to be those people in Wii sports (The background characters that make the noises)

- Then we can have a dance party in a prison cell!

- Most of the bible sounds like gay fanfics

- It’s Frozen all over again!

- I have my metal bus on the straw

- My mom told my Dad to not be a weenie

- I’m going to build my house doors really short so you can’t come in

- Do you want to be black with me?

- Are you the black man?

- How did chutes and ladders go sexual?

- What if there was a rotisserie chicken hanging from the ceiling

- No one said Californians are smart, they’re just hippies who smoke weed

- Stop losing me in airport bathrooms

- What’s with those muscular kneecaps

- Queers doesn’t shake hands

- I’m drowning! I’m not even in the water

- Is this baptism?

- Breakfast doesn’t deserve grace

- It’s not just airport bathrooms

- Ice Age, watch it, absorb it

- I call first waz

- If you’re saying waz you’re not fancy

- I have so many bodily fluids to get rid of

- Don’t eat the lotion samples

- Why are our shoes not curved

- I’m just a fat guy so everything is delicious

- My name is Gay Fieri

- *Monotone iCarly theme song*

- I love Chipoodle

- The others are just Bat-ships

- You ever tie a banana to a tree?

- Can we have a fashion show?

- I’m gonna waz myself

- That’s the Death Star again

- Why do you have glitter on you?

- I smoke the mara-ja-wanna

- I have a gelato emergency

- This is our entertainment for the day (Watching a (probably) crazy man dance)

- I have a lot of questions about pottery

- Ever since I was a small child I have found myself goo-goo-ga-ga

- There are too many cans

- We need to stop canning beans

- Forks are way better than spoons

- I hate spoons

- Do you not want two hours of smooth jazz

- A man just stole my nut

- That’s a really bad name for a gay bar

- Is your tongue comfortable in your mouth

- I’m a penguin enthusiast

- He kept force feeding me marshmallows

- Why would you judge a girl by her neck?

- Are there shampoo bars?

- Why would you want a shampoo bar?

- Don’t burn down the house

- Halloween is my day

- You want to be hydrated?

- Are you kidding me? Right in front of my salad?

- We can still cartwheel into a fiery ball

- It’s your last day of camp, why are you trying to land a plane

- There’s a scale from dude to bro to sir

- Gotta vacuum the bird

- I’m teaching my rabbit spanish

- Ok, who got the cheese on a bun???

- I feel like a wet lasagna

- You can get a star for Jazz???

- I have 3 bottles of hand sanitizer

- A- We make children cry! B- NO WE DON’T

- A- Can I have chicken on a plate? B- Chicken on a plate? A- Chicken on a plate

- I want to go to band to get sweaty

- Proactive, it helps your face

- The cult meeting is next week from 2-7

- This is so vegany

- I HAVE A PROBLEM WITH THE SONG! NOT THE BEATLES!

- I have shrimp for later

- It burns my eyes, I love it

- It’s not that we hate you, it’s just that sometimes we can’t stand you

- Locked and loaded for a photoshoot first period

- This chalk keeps following me

- Kinda like a Starbucks atmosphere

- How dare she learn how to drive

- You have to sing our anthem with us

- It fits right into the squiggle

- I’m immune to hot sauce (Downs little cup of hot sauce)

- How was fake meatloaf?

- Can you train a fish?

- I haven’t worn pants in a year

- It smells like yogurt

- I have ties for every holiday

- There’s no laws on the moon, so like, you could kill someone???

- Optional means I don’t do it

- I’m gonna cook your dog!!!

- Is that where we almost went to park jail?

- We don’t condone sporting

- I want to turn orange

- Let’s make a buzfeed quiz that tells you what bridge you are

- (In Spanish) Where is the milk?

- If silence is gold, duct tape is silver

- A: So, what are you guys doing? B: Drugs.

- Young successful jewish boy

- A: I’m fun size! *Friend laughter* B: I’m just short...

- A: Where’s my medal??? B: Up your ass

- I’m a leech

- If anyone’s getting salmonella, it’s going to be me

- Does it involve backflips?

- I get to see all the little children getting confused as you disappear into a chair

- I think someone stole my balls by now

- A- A plastic knife can cut another plastic knife B- Why did you cut a plastic knife? A- Dedication!

- A- Oh my god! B- What does this have to do with god? C- *Whispering* Everything

- You’re probably going to die of liver

- I’m a five year old! You can’t have that profanity in here!

- Hey kids get in the van, we’ve got free wifi

- That’s worse than 10 babies hanging from a tree

- Are you from the piggers of creation???

- A- You’re like an old married couple B- (From the distance) He started it!

- I am a Jesus Christ in a person!

- YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MANY CHROMOSOMES THAT COST ME!!!

- I will implant a chip in your ankle! And you won’t know which one!

- I’M AN AVATAR! AIR! (Nothing happens) AIR! (Still nothing)

- When I was on a plane, we started dropping 200 feet at a time, the funny thing was that half of the plane had just gotten their drinks so half the plane was soaked

- Is Christianity a cult?

- A- Do you have experiences with holes B- (Very Unsure) Yes

- I’m her bitch, not your bitch

- He has the IQ of half a ferret

- A- Did you read the game manual? B- The gay manual??

- I want the pleasure of whipping you

- One time I poured a glass of apple cider vinegar and I drank it

- I changed my name to Johnyay West

- Too much damage done to the duner

- On a scale to 1 to Bill Cosby

- Ariana Grande is a criminal

- A- It’s sticky B- Can I take that out of context? A- No

- YOU ZIP TIED HIM TO A CHAIR?!

- It’s half past a freckle

- I need the crotch

- I don’t have imaginary friends. I don’t have friends.

- It’s like a mini fridge for pillows

- You hurt yourself with a stationary elbow

- My parents met at Burger King

- A- What’s the capital of Ohio B- Arkansas...?

- A- What do you do after school? B- Eat C- Sleep D- Cry

- Ask for cocaine, not Coca-Cola

- HOW HAVE YOU NOT TOLD US YOU MAKE STAINED GLASS?!

- You stole my meme bro

- A- Where you the one who drank chocolate sauce? B- (Seemingly proud) Yes.

- OW! MY CALVES!

- The Kardashians are necessary in our society!!!

- I feel like a homeless prostitute

- Ya wanna share a fork

- Now you have a pile of hot cheese

#random #funny conversations #conversation #i just overheard #overheard #haha #funny #long post

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hellzyeahthewebwieldingavenger · 5 years

Text

Spider-Man: Life Story #4 Thoughts Part 3: Pathetic Parker

Aaaaaaand finally....let us discuss you know Peter Parker.

Or the stand in for him in this mess of a mini-series.

Positives should be gotten out of the way first. I like the new Spider-Suit’s look. I’ve liked all the suits’ looks so far.

Okay cool we’re done now with positives.

Soooooooooooooooooooooooooo...Peter is dating Jessica Drew huh.

Hahahahahahaha....fuck off.

Jessica Drew technically speaking existed in the 1960s but only because Bendis picked a random girl from a Ditko issue and decided he would make her his new original character (who was a rewritten Jessica Drew stand in...) Jessica Jones...which happened in the 2000s.

Remember how I said the Stark thing was remixing stuff from the 2000s and how this probably references the Ultimate Clone Saga?

Well between that stuff, the inclusion of Parker Industries, a obvious reference to Slott’s ‘No One Dies’ buzz word, and now Jessica Jones Zdarsky has entirely collapsed the ONE consistent thing about his writing in this series.

You can read my past posts on this series for more detail, but in a nutshell, this series is utterly convoluted in it’s premise and confused in what it wants to be.

However the ONE utterly consistent thing about it was the fact that it remixes elements from Spidey stories that happened in the decade each issue was covering.

Until now.

Now in fairness Parker Industries was a 2010s thing that debuted in the 1980s. I let that one slide a bit because I guess the idea was if Peter age 30 had money and time he could have a company by age 37 which would be in the 80s. Okay I guess.

But with all that other stuff...this issue isn’t remixing 90s stuff it’s remixing 90s and post-90s stuff so what the fuck is the conceit of the story again?

It’s anything Zdarsky wants whilst mostly remixing stuff from every decade per issue oh and Spider-Man ages in real time I guess and mentions various wars.

I (and others) have talked about how this series is fanficion. A time honoured tradition of fanfiction is the wacky indulgent ships that occur.

In professional works though these are best avoided, see MockingSpider.

That’s what Jessica Jones and Spider-Man being a couple is. Yeah she had a crush on him in high school.

Now tell me anything else that’d serve as a basis for their relationship instead of her being with Luke?

How the fuck did this even happen? At least with Peter and MJ you have canon as a roadmap. In this series...nothing. Peter and Jessica just hooked up somehow in the last 11 years!

What’s so insultingly asinine about this ship is that it emphasis another person who is conspicuous via her absence.

So...where the fuck is Felicia!

I know that the important life events of Spider-Man can be debated up to a point.

That point doesn’t cover though whether Black Cat is relevant of a mention or not across his ‘life story’.

No shit of course she is!

But she wasn’t mentioned in the 1970s when she debuted. She wasn’t mentioned in the 1980s when she became a regular. She wasn’t mentioned in the 1990s.

Surely in a world where Spider-Man’s marriage to MJ falls apart and he’s dating a private eye that should be fucking Black Cat not a character who wasn’t even invented until 10 years later! I mean c’mon Black Cat BECAME a private eye in the 1990s!

And wouldn’t that have been way more dramatic too?

In the 1980s instead of Peter being allegedly addicted to a costume or neglecting his family to clean up radiation or asking his wife to kill him if he turned into a brain munching alien the root of their break up involved his affection for Felicia?

I mean c’mon the symbiote was framed as a response to a mid-life crisis, a sexy platinum blonde who actually wants to hook up with Spidey not Peter isn’t prime real estate for a story about a superhero’s mid life crisis? Even the Incredibles did that!

And wouldn’t that have been more worthy of drama in this issue than literally 2 panels of Jessica Jones establishing they’re shagging but also he’s neglectful and she dumped him. I mean at that point you might as well have just had her be a private eye he hired and dropped the romance completely it served no purpose at all.

One aspect of the story that I will praise Zdarsky for even if I think he got it right by accident is that without his family Peter couldn’t keep on going as Spider-Man.

MJ, May, etc, they keep him together, he needs people, he’d fall apart without them.

Running out of gas as he did in this story could be seen as a reflection of that depending on future issues. Or it could just be he’s old and tired and don’t you know all superheroes would feel that way at age 48.

Too bad that seems rather at odds with issue #3 where he was a neglectful jerk.

Another problem inherited from issue #3 was the issue of Peter’s diminished prowess in his old age.

Remember how he wanted the symbiote to stay ‘relevant’ because he was slowing down.

Okay so it’s been 11 years later, he’s held onto Parker Industries and...he’s just accepted he’s gotten slower and weaker.

Remember how issue #3 implied he had a nano-weld suit.

Okay so he’s had 11 years to improve on that tech and...he hasn’t.

In fact his current outfit looks less high tech even.

Now brace yourselves because I’m about to do something nuts and call upon Dan Slott continuity as reference material.

In Slott’s run Peter with HORIZON labs and Parker Industries tech was able to whip up a variety of costumes for himself. These included nanotech.

In fact his MAIN suit in ASM volume 4 was nanotech armour that came complete with all sorts of gadgets.

Are you telling me that a Peter Parker with even greater years of scientific knowledge and experience, with even more time and resources, across 11+ years NEVER made technology like that?

He NEVER invented tech that could offset his diminished powers?

Seriously?

IRON MAN had strength enhancing armour in the 1960s and that technology got illegally distributed to countless people, hence we got Armor Wars. Even that aside there is countless inferior technology that could increase strength, speed, agility, etc, let alone protect from knock out gas.

But Peter in LF is such a jackass he...never employed this. He never considered this. He just let himself grow weaker and more vulnerable?

Either he’s stupid or he’s a sellout on Ben and May’s morals of responsibility because he had a death wish hence he never upgraded.

I mean Jesus Christ the Hobgoblin found a way to make the Goblin serum SAFE. Peter couldn’t investigate that avenue as a way to spike his power levels? Friggin Norman Osborn was in his 40s when he got the formula and it made him almost on par with Spider-Man.

It gets even stupider when you consider Peter hands over his mantle to Ben Reilly.

Ben is physically the same goddam age as Peter. In fact considering he clearly doesn’t crime fight as much as Peter does or else ‘Red Mask’ would be more famous, Peter if anything would be in better shape. So Peter is giving the mantle of Spidey to a less experienced, weaker 48 year old man who’s ALSO got diminished strength and speed.

But it gets worse.

He doesn’t just hand the mantle of Spidey to Ben. He hands Parker Industries over to him. You’d think this is a case of him passing it on to his relative Ben Reilly right?

Nope.

He wants Ben to...literally become him.

Peter wants Ben to literally pose as him forevermore and run his company.

This is the most gamebreakingly stupid thing in the entire issue.

Ben having Peter’s notes doesn’t mean he’ll be able to pose as Peter.

He doesn’t know the in jokes Peter has with people. He has 0 experience of running a big company.

He has less scientific knowledge and experience.

He will be way worse in business negotiations because he hasn’t got the measure of people.

And he’ll be seriously stressed out because unlike Peter who just knows this stuff Ben will have to study for a lifelong performance as Peter Parker every moment of every day.

Not to mention is no one going to notice the sudden disappearance of Ben Reilly?

Didn’t he have friends or colleagues of his own like Lori from the start of the issue?

Peter starts the comic determined to not allow Parker Industries to fall into the hands of the war profiteer Tony Stark but by unloading his entire company onto Ben Reilly he’s placed it in a hugely vulnerable position that makes it MORE likely that it will be absorbed into Stark International.

Oh and of course there the teeny tiny problem of PETER AND BEN NOT LOOKING ALIKE!

Now realistically Peter and Ben Reilly, having lived such different lives, would look similar yet different, like identical twins. Identical twins might look the same at age 1 but they really wouldn’t at age 30 if one of them was a desk jockey and the other was a soldier.

But you know artistic licence and suspension of disbelief can bypass that.

What cannot be bypassed is when Mark Bagley is drawing both characters on the same page in the same panel and you can tell that they clearly look different to one another. Their faces, hair colour and hair styles are not the same.

Did Peter’s notes include the correct shade to dye his hair too?

But the biggest aspect of this which is betrayal pornoigraphy for Peter’s character is between handing over the reigns of Spidey and P.I. to Ben...how...the...Hell...is...that...at.all...responsible?

He claims that he can’t give up his responsibility but he can ‘shift it to where it matters’.

What a crock of shit. That’s some lame ass lawyer talk for giving up and letting someone else do your job for you.

In the 90s Clone Saga Peter’s retirement was justified. He had impending parenthood as a responsibility and he and his wife had nearly broken in recent months. In Spider-Girl he got his leg blown off and had a 2 year old child to care for.

In this? His ex-wife and children are doing just fine without him as far as we know but the city still needs Spidey and P.I. still needs Peter Parker.

So no, retirement under these circumstances is irresponsible and utterly unjustified.

Not to mention wouldn’t BOTH Peter and Ben being heroes be more responsible? Or at least have Ben take over hero work and Peter runs P.I., possibly training Ben up.

There is also this bullshit that because Peter is so loud and public Ben could never live up to his potential.

I’m sorry but what is it with the Spider-Man fandom’s obsession with the idea that success = owning your own business.

As if that is the one and only way Peter or Ben could fulfil their scientific potential. Why not work for Reed?

Why not work with a Think Tank?

Why not start up a company in a different country and establish that Ben is indeed Peter’s relative. He already had his last name in issue #2!

Hell the argument that if they both started up companies and 2 Spider Heroes showed up it’d raise questions doesn’t consider the ideas that:

a) Ben could WORK for Parker Industries, thereby allowing Peter to be in the lab as he wants or Ben handle the lab work

b) They could SHARE the Spider-Man identity, which if anything would help maintain their secrecy

Finally this issue (and the last one) on the recap page and at the end of the story pushes some toxic, dated, bullshit narratives regarding MJ:

a) That it was grief alone that hooked up Peter and MJ

b) MJ is Peter’s Plan B

c) Peter cannot be married/have kids and be Spidey

d) MJ wouldn’t stay with him if he’s Spider-Man, hence he only regains his family by retiring from Spidey

I’ve seen an assessment of this story that argues that issue #3 as the halfway point was the low point from which the character will gradually fight back.

In a sense issue #4 goes along with this idea. Peter is at his lowest in issue #3 and his happier by the end of issue #4.

But the narrative structure of this series, wherein each issue is a snap shot of his life in each decade leads me to think that we’re unlikely to have 2 more issues of ending on gradually happier and happier notes.

Rather I think this issue is giving a pretence of happiness before it comes crashing down next issue and then in issue #6 we will get our happy ending or a bittersweet exit.

Regardless writing these long ass posts has actually soured me even more on the issue.

It’s another shit show I’m afraid.

P.S. The solicit read:

“THE REAL-TIME LIFE STORY OF SPIDER-MAN CONTINUES! Spider-Man’s life enters the 1990s! The COLD WAR is no longer cold as PETER PARKER returns to a world gone MAD! But will he let that madness infect HIM and his family?”

Where the fuck was any of that in this story?

Peter didn’t have a family, Peter didn’t return from anything, and the only madness to be found was in Ben and Otto.

#Spider-Man: Life Story #Chip Zdarsky #Mark Bagley #Spider-Man #Peter Parker #mjwatsonedit #Mary Jane Watson #Mary Jane Watson Parker #mj watson #Ben Reilly #Clone Saga #Jessica Jones #Black Cat #Felicia Hardy

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fanwarriorfictions · 5 years

Text

One-

A Stranger Things 2 Fanfic

Chapter Nine- Part Three

Phina was trying her hardest not to die with laughter. Dustin was very excited about the dead Demodog in the living room. He made Steve pick it up in a blanket while he took everything out of the Byers' fridge to store it in.

"Shut up," Steve glowered at Phina, a glare on his face.

She raises her hands, "I didn't say anything."

Steve playfully glares at her, "maybe, but I know what you're thinking, asshole. Shut up"

She grins at him and tilts her head cutely, "bite me, Harrington."

Dustin sighs, shaking his head as he turns towards Steve, "it should fit now."

Steve gives him a look of exasperation, "is this really necessary?"

"Yes, it is, okay," Dustin answers, "this is a ground-breaking scientific discovery. We can't just bury it like some common mammal, okay? It's not a dog!"

"All right, all right, all right," Steve sighs as he walks towards the fridge, "but you're explaining this to Mrs. Byers, all right?"

He lifts the creature into the fridge and it's head slams against the side. Phina laughs sharply and almost falls off the counter she was sitting on. Steve tries to shove it in again but it doesn't work.

"Christ," he groans, "help me out?"

"What am I supposed to do," Dustin asks.

"Get the door, man," Steve grumbles as he pushes the Demodog into the fridge more.

Dustin grabs the fridge door, "all right, I got the door."

Steve tries to pull back from the creature and the slime on it gets all over his arm, "Ew! Jesus-"

"God," Dustin yells.

Steve quickly pulls away from the creature and he and Dustin slam the door shut which makes the entire thing shake. They both stare at the door for a moment and then Steve puts his hand on Dustin's head, patting it like a dad would a son.

"Phew," Steve sighs.

Phina grins at the two of them. She thought it was cute that Steve and Dustin were getting closer. Steve looks over at her and rolls his eyes at her grin. She enjoyed that little show a little too much.

"I'll rub this slime on your face if you don't wipe that grin off your face," Steve jokes, gesturing to the slime on his arm.

She grins wider, almost like a cat, "I'll burn you."

"Point taken," he nods, a smile now on his lips.

From the living room, Lucas's voice says, "Mike, would you just stop already?"

"You weren't in there, okay, Lucas," Mike fires back at him, "that lab was swarming with hundreds of those dogs."

Dustin rolls his eyes, "Demodogs!"

"The chief will take care of her," Lucas says, ignoring Dustin.

"Like she needs protection," Max mumbles.

Steve, Phina, and Dustin walk into the living room. Phina had given Steve a rag to wipe off the slime from his arm

"Listen, dude," Steve says to Mike, "a coach calls a play in a game bottom line, you execute it. All right?"

"Okay, first of all," Mike says, clearly annoyed, "this isn't some stupid sports game. And second, we're not even in the game. We're on the bench."

Steve stammers, "so my point is..."

He pauses and they all look at him, "right, yeah, we're on the bench, so, uh, there's nothing we can do."

He throws the towel over his shoulder and Dustin speaks up, "that's not entirely true. I mean, these Demodogs, they have a hive mind. When they ran away from the bus, they were called away."

"So, if we get their attention," Lucas continues.

"Maybe we can draw them from the lab," Max adds, looking up at Lucas.

"Clear a path to the gate," Mike says.

"So El and Hopper can get in," Phina says.

"Yeah, and then we all die," Steve counters, looking at all of them with a look that said, are you even hearing yourselves?

"That's one point of view," Dustin argues.

Steve shakes his head, "no, that's not a point of view, man. That's a fact."

Mike pushes through Steve and Dustin, "I got it!"

He walks around a corner and they all follow him. He kneels down and points at a spot on Will's map that covered the walls of the Byers' house.

"This where the chief dug his hole," Mike says, "this is our way into the tunnel. So..."

He stands up and walks over to another piece of the map, "here, right here. This is like a hub."

He stands over a place where a giant blue area was, "so you got all the tunnels feeding in here. Maybe if we set this on fire-"

"Oh, yeah," Steve says, one hand on his hip as he points, "that's a no."

"The mind flayer would call away his army," Dustin says, ignoring Steve.

"They'd all come to stop us," Lucas exclaims.

"Then we circle back to the exit," Mike plans.

Steve leans towards them, "guys."

"By the time they realize we're gone-"

"El would be at the gate-"

"Hey!" Steve claps to get their attention. "Hey! Hey! This is not happening."

"He's right guys," Phina says.

"But-"

"No, no, no," Steve yells, "no buts. I promised I'd keep you shitheads safe, and that's exactly what I plan on doing."

Phina crosses her arms over her chest, "it's too dangerous, guys. Steve's right, it's our job to keep you guys safe. I'd be damned if I let you guys go with me."

Steve whirls around on her, "with me? No, no, no, you're not going down into those tunnels either! We're staying here. On the bench. And we're waiting here for the starting team to do their job. Does everybody understand that?"

"This isn't a stupid sports game," Mike yells.

"I said does everybody understand that," Steve yells back, grabbing the rag of his shoulder and pointing at Mike, "I need a yes."

All of them turn towards the sound of a loud engine. Max instantly runs over to the front window and jumps on the couch to look through it, Lucas following her lead.

"It's my brother," Max says as the engine grows louder, "he can't know I'm here. He'll kill me. He'll kill us."

The engine revs a few times before the car screeches to a stop in front of the house.

"Stay in here," Steve orders all of them, "I'll talk to him."

Phina glares at him, "like hell I'm staying here, Harrington."

Steve knows not to push her when she gets like this so he just sighs and looks at the kids behind her, "stay hidden you dipshits."

Phina and Steve walk out the front door and close it behind them. Steve stands slightly in front of Phina to hide her from Billy's view. The boy mentioned slowly gets out of his car, a cigaret lit between his lips as he looks over at them, leaning on the roof of his car.

"Am I dreaming, or is that you, Harrington," he asks.

Steve has his hands on his hips, "yeah, it's me. Don't cream your pants."

"And is that the gorgeous freak of Hawkins behind you," he asks as his gaze turns to Phina.

"Better watch what you say, Hargrove," Phina snaps, "I'd hate to make do on my promise."

Billy throws his jacket off his shoulders and Steve walks towards him, sensing the trouble that Billy wanted to start. Phina catches up with Steve with her arms crossed.

"What are you doing here, amigo," Billy asks, his eyes turning back to Steve.

"I could ask you the same thing," Steve says with a fake uninterested tone, "amigo."

The two stop a few feet away from Billy, "looking for my stepsister. A little birdie told me she was here."

"Huh," Steve hums, "that's weird. I don't know her."

"Small. Redhead, bit of a bitch," Billy says, glancing over at Phina, "not to be confused with this beauty right here."

Steve glares at him, "doesn't ring a bell. Sorry, buddy."

"You know," Billy sighs, "I don't know, this... this whole situation, Harrington, I don't know. It's giving me the heebie-jeebies."

"Oh, yeah," Steve asks, pushing Phina back a little, more for Billy sake than hers, when he feels heat start to radiate off her, "why's that?"

Billy pulls the cigaret out of his mouth, "my 13-year-old sister goes missing all day. And then I find her with you, and the freak of Hawkins, in a stranger's house. And you lie to me about it."

Steve chuckles lowly, shaking his head, "man, were you dropped too much as a child, or what?"

Billy chuckles and runs his tongue across his teeth as Steve continues, "I don't know what you don't understand about what I just said... She's not here."

Billy uses his cigaret to point past Steve and at the house, "then who is that?"

Steve and Phina whirl around to look at the window. All of the kids are pressed up against is and they jump away when they see the teens look at them. Phina wants to strangle all of them.

"Oh, shit," Steve slowly turns back to Billy, "listen-"

Billy pushes Steve and he falls to the ground, hitting his head.

"Steve," Phina yells but Billy shoves her away from him and she falls too.

"I told you to plant your feet," Billy growls at Steve and he kicks him in the side when he tries to push himself up.

Billy walks past them and towards the front door. Phina pushes herself up and glares at the back of his head. Vines start to crawl over the ground towards him slowly.

"Phina," Steve groans, "don't."

The vines retract quickly as Phina comes to her senses. She couldn't reveal herself to Billy, or anyone for that matter, not if she wanted to live a normal life ever again, not if she wanted to stay out of places like Hawkins Lab.

Phina rushes over to Steve, "are you ok?"

He groans as she pulls him to her feet, "not important right now."

He grabs her arm and they run into the house hearing yelling from the kitchen, "you are so dead, Sinclair! You're dead."

Steve lets go of Phina as he grabs Billy, spinning him around to face him, "no... you are!"

Steve hits Billy with a punch that used his full weight, making his entire body spin to the side. Phina goes behind him and grabs Lucas, pulling him to the rest of the kids. Billy laughs maniacally as he turns towards Steve.

"Looks like you got some fire in you after all, huh," Billy yells, "I've been waiting to meet this King Steve everybody's been telling me so much about."

Steve doesn't flinch as Billy gets closer to him, he only hardens his gaze and sneers as he pushed Billy back, "get out."

Billy reels back and swings at Steve who dodges beneath his arm. As he comes back up, he hits Billy across the jaw and sends him back into the table.

"Yes! Kick his ass, Steve," Dustin yells.

"Get him," Mike yells.

"Murder the son of a bitch!"

Steve hits Billy again and he falls backward and leans on the sink, his teeth covered in blood.

"Now! Now!"

"Get that shithead!"

Billy laughs, throwing his bloody face towards the roof.

"Kill the son of a bitch!"

Billy grabs a plate off the counter and smashes it over Steve's head.

"Steve," Phina yells.

"Billy," Max yells.

Steve stumbles towards them and Billy walks towards him, rearing back for another hit at Steve. Phina grabs the kids and pulls them away from the fight. Steve stumbles into the living room and Billy stalks towards him. He grabs Steve by the shoulders and Steve squirms in his grip.

"No one tells me what to do," Billy growls, bitch-slapping Steve across the face.

"Steve," Phina yells again, not knowing what to do without revealing her powers.

Steve is sent to the ground as Billy yells, "Whoo! Get up!"

He stalks towards him and gets on top of Steve. He throws a powerful hit across Steve's cheek and then another one. Left, right, left, right. Blood spews from Steve's mouth and Phina's vision goes red.

The kids' yelling goes deaf in her ears as she feels something snap within her. It's like a dam has broken and power floods through her. Her hands twitch at her sides, her nails tingling as they go from normal, short, stubby things, to sharp thorns growing from her skin. Her eyes feel like they are burning within her skull, the emerald that had been referred to as flame go black as the depths of the sea. She stalks forward, the kids backing away from her, not in fear, but in the realization that she was a bomb about to explode. Her new talons drip with a toxin, nothing that would kill, just subdue, as she raises them above Billy. Time slows as she sinks her talons into Billy's neck, the toxin taking effect immediately. She rips her hand back, leaving four deep gashes.

Billy stumbles to his feet, turning to look at the girl. Fear shoots through him at the sight of her. She looked like a demon had taken over her body, her eyes black as night, her hair entwined with thorn laden vines. Whatever she put in him, he swore it was making him hallucinate. He falls backward, away from her. It draws her eyes towards Steve, passed out on the floor.

Slowly, the red in her vision leaves and the talons retracts, leaving her short fingernails in place. The black in her eyes changes back to the normal emerald as she stumbles towards him.

"Steve," she whispers, falling forward, the world turning black instead of red.

-2293 words-

Ooohhh, badass Phina coming out to play, and all for Steve ;) I hope you liked this chapter and are ready for the next four!

-Morgan

#steve harrington #steve harrington x oc #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #strangerthingsfanfic #strangerthings #one #romance #slow burn

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i-literally-cant-with-this · 4 months

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"MOUTH SICK" FREE VERSION I'm pretty sure I got all of it changed out. But if I missed anything, please let me know.

ORIGINAL VERSION

@k-shire Here you go ;)

Potential TW ::: Difficulty conceiving.

C/W ::: Aged up Kats x f.reader, facial fluids being discharged (snot, tears). Oral M->F Quite a bit of P->V. Lovey dovey stuff, sweet moments between 2 people who just want a freakin' baby. Ok? 😭

WC ::: 4,923 +/- (Jesus christ, I'm so sorry. This totally got away from me and I don't even know how.)

"Hey babe, it's me." Katsuki said in his typical growly voice. "I guess you're still at work or somethin'. Anyway, I'll be home tomorrow night. Also, I'been holdin' back. So, be ready for me. I love you, call me if ya want."

Pushing #1 on speed dial, you hear the other line ringing and start praying to whatever gods would listen to you that he'd answer his phone.

"Hey brat. Y'ignorin' me now or some shit like that? The fuck ya think ya are?" You could hear him choke out a laugh. The background noise was almost louder than he was.

The phone crackled a few times before you heard him, "Hey! Y'there? Babe!? Goddamn it, this shit ass fuc---" and then you heard nothing.

A chime rang out into the quiet room and you pounced on it. A text from Katsuki, "Sorry, shit reception here. I'll try to call you from the hotel later. XXX"

You woke up to the sun forcing its way through the edges of the window coverings. "He's coming home today! He ... is finally coming home today!" A contented sigh heaved its way from your chest as you stood and stretched the uncomfortable position you slept in from your body. And then immediately a wave of dizziness washed over you. "The f-," you covered your eyes and stumbled as best you could with limited vision to the bathroom. Turning on the faucet, you splashed cool water on your face . "Mmm ..." Your eyes roamed to the bathroom cupboard. The dizziness faded and soon your body followed your eyes' lead and you bent down to open the door and pull out a pregnancy test.

You peed on the plastic receptacle and set the timer you'd bought specially for the bathroom, only to hurry up and wait for the next 3 minutes.

It all felt so new to you for some strange reason.

His Jeep pulled into the driveway and your heart all but stopped beating. Your face got hot and you felt like you were going to faint again. "Jesus, calm yourself, y/n. You're married for Christ's sake. Have been for over 2 years. He is your husband. He already loves you." But you didn't believe a word you said to yourself.

"I love you too, Katsuki." Your voice was breathy and quiet, almost like you were afraid to say it.

"You like it?" You blushed hard.

He turned you around and began to kiss your shoulders. He moved the straps of the lingerie down and bit your skin gently. "Ah! Katsuki, please. Please touch me. I need you."

"Patience. G’na take my time with you. Got about 6 days to make up for, darlin'. Lemme have this. Lemme have you."

"Katsu- kugh, ohmygod, I'm gonna ... I'm gonna ..." You grabbed his head and pushed him further into you. He moaned and his hands dug into your thighs as he kept working your swollen cunt.

"Jesus fuck, you sure you weren't doing some pussy push-ups r'somethin'? You're so tight, babe. Feels so fuckin' good. But … Jesus."

"I love you." He whispered, his breath warm against your skin.

"I love you." You whispered back.

And with that, he rolled off of you and snuggled up against your back, his hand resting on your stomach. The two of you fell asleep a short time later. Still happily tangled up in one another.

"Sorry, can't hear you over how good just the head of your cock feels while I'm bouncin' on it." You smirked at him as you wiggled your hips side to side.

He reached up and grabbed your neck, pulling you down to him as he thrust up into you. "I said, don't be a fucking tease," he hissed out through a clenched jaw.

All of a sudden, you stopped riding out the last waves of your orgasm. Sitting on top of him still, you put your hand over your forehead and you looked down at him with a vacant look in your eyes. "Umm ..." you shook your head when he asked if you were ok. "Hm-mm." He helped you off of him and all but dragged your post-o, jellied, naked body to the bathroom and sat you on the edge of the bathtub.

"Y'fuckin' sick'er somethin', babe? Got the flu? What the hell's goin' on?" His brows furrowed and he scowled at you. You knew it was out of concern, not frustration.

You shook your head, trying to compose yourself after something so poorly timed. Hating yourself for doing this right now. Right after such an intimate moment. While he was standing there, staring at you, riding out your dizziness. Naked. "Don't know … fuck, So dizzy though.”

He squatted down next to you and held your hair up off the back of your neck with his right hand and fanned your back with his left. "'M not fuckin' leavin' you. Not for fuckin' nothin'. Y'fuckin' hear me? Better or worse. Sickness and health and all that other shit. Just shut up and feel better. 'L be right here for ya."

The amount of tears and snot that left your face was disgusting. You'd never had such floodgates open like this before. Crying like that and the snot running from your nose. You were an actual mess. But he stood by you through all of it.

"Oh, babe. Yer jus' so ... hah. No matter what. Even with your hair matted to your face and your eyes puffy and red. I love you." He leaned over and kissed your forehead.

"I'm sorry, Kats. I'm sorry I can't give us the baby we want. I'm sorry I'm so fucking broken." You choked on your words as tears started to well in your eyes. "I'm so sorry."

"Are you having a fucking stroke or something? What are you doing, dumbass?" You wiped your chin and huffed out a short, insincere laugh. "Kats, what did - what'd they say. Is it me? Am I ..."

"Yes, babe. It's you. It's you … and the little grenade you're carrying. You're ... we're ... having a baby, y/n. You're fuckin' pregnant." He beamed up at you, tears in his wide eyes.

"It's you, babe. You and me. And … and … and a little us in you. We did it, y/n. We're gonna have a family!"

The future was yours and yours alone … well, and Kats’ and the babies, of course.

#my hero academia #mha #bnha #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki x reader #katsuki x y/n #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #katsuki smut #katsuki x you #dadsuki #katsudad #bakugo x y/n

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bisexualbumblebee-writes · 2 years

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Behind the Romance- Ryan Sampson x OC

Ryan Sampson x Lucy Margaux

Description: Ryan and Lucy are invited to the internet show “Behind the Romance,” where they’re shown the progression of their relationship in the form of videos and clips.

Word Count: 2.6k

“Are we doing the intro now?” Lucy asked, looking at the director behind the camera. She moved her legs so she was sitting with her legs crossed on the bed, adjusting the hood of her Piglet onesie on her head.

“Yep,” the director, Sarah, responded with a nod. “Just say something like- introduce yourselves and explain what you’ll be doing here today. Cameras are rolling so whenever you guys are ready.”

“Alright, want me to do it?” Lucy questioned, looking at her fiancé. Sam nodded from beside Lucy then leaned back against the headboard. She nodded as well and faced the camera with a bright smile.

“Welcome back to Behind the Romance everyone,” she greeted. “I’m Lucy Margaux.”

“And I am Ryan Sampson,” Ryan added, also grinning at the camera.

“And we are engaged. Today we’re here in our pajamas ready to watch and react to the videos that the lovely crew of this show have compiled together for us,” Lucy finished with a giggle.

“These weren’t originally our pajamas,” he pointed out to those who don’t know.

“Yeah, they sent us these like three days before we came here,” she nodded.

“Right, and what do you have over there, Lucy?” Ryan questioned, trying to look around her. Lucy turned to the nightstand beside the bed then perked up.

“Ooh, they’ve given us some complimentary wine,” the girl responded, reaching over and picking up the empty wine glasses. She then handed one of the glasses to the man beside her and picked up the bottle of wine from the bucket of ice it sat in.

“We have a bottle of,” she trailed off as she brought the bottle closer to her to read the label. “2020 Santa Margherita Pinot Grigio Alto Adige. I didn’t understand half of those words but man does it sound expensive.” She began attempting to remove the cork from the bottle in vain.

“Do you need me to try?” Ryan asked amusedly.

“No I’m a strong independent who doesn’t need a man,” she responded shortly before holding the bottle out for him with a pout. “I need help.” Ryan, along with the crew, laughed at the sudden change in attitude as the boy grabbed the bottle. It took him a couple tries but he finally managed to get it open. The cork flew out past the cameras with a loud pop, which made Lucy scream in surprise and jump away.

“Jesus Christ, Ryan!” She exclaimed, holding a hand to her chest.

“What?” The boy replied defensively, trying not to laugh. “How was I supposed to know it was going to do that?” Lucy rolled her eyes and shook her head, picking up her glass.

“Just pour me some wine so we can get on with this,” she demanded, holding out her glass for him. “Please.” Ryan scrunched up his nose but obliged with a grin to her.

“Since you asked so nicely,” he retorted sarcastically. Lucy rolled her eyes and took the bottle once Ryan was done filling his cup, placing it back into the bucket of ice.

“Anyways, ready to start it?” Lucy asked, to which Ryan nodded. The girl nodded and leaned forward, pressing play on the video in front of them.

From the looks of it, they seemed to be on the set of Plebs. Ryan, Tom and Joel were in a small circle, all in their respective characters of Grumio, Marcus and Stylax. It was the Herpes Cat episode from season 1, the scene where Grumio thought that his missing lottery ticket had been eaten by a cat that had died.

“What are the chances of the lottery ticket being in the cat?” Marcus questioned. Grumio thought about the question.

“50/50,” he answered after a moment. Marcus hummed with an incredulous look on his face.

“Right,” he spoke, sounding as if he didn’t believe him. “And even if it is, what are the chances that that is the winning ticket?”

“50/50,” the slave responded, sounding more sure this time.

“Well it clearly isn’t,” Marcus stated.

“Course it is,” Grumio retorted flatly.

“How are the chances of you winning the lottery 50/50?”

“Either I will win it, or I won’t.” Before any of them could react, a laugh came from behind the camera. Several people, including Joel, the director Sam and Ryan groaned dramatically.

“Lucy!” Sam exclaimed, shortly before the camera panned over to the girl in question, who was standing not far from the set.

“I’m sorry!” She exclaimed, still laughing. “I don’t know why that line delivery was so funny to me.” Ryan groaned yet again, and the camera followed him as he walked over to the girl.

“You’ve gotta shhhh!” He called despite being right in front of her. His hands cupped her face, which made her start laughing again. That gave him cause to shush her again just as melodramatically. He whispered something into her ear that the camera couldn’t pick up then walked back over to Tom and Joel. Lucy’s lips pressed together in a smile and she clasped her hands in front of her stomach.

“Ready to try again?” Sam questioned, making the guys nod.

“Alright, still rolling.”

The clip ended, and Ryan glanced at Lucy only to see her holding back a laugh.

“I remember that day. Sam had to ask Lucy to leave the set because she wouldn’t stop laughing at that scene,” he commented. Sarah grinned from behind the camera.

“What was it that he whispered to you?” She questioned, crossing one leg over the other in her chair. That’s what made Lucy giggle as she remembered back to that moment.

“He told me, in the absolute sweetest voice I think I’ve ever heard him use, to shut the hell up.” Ryan burst out laughing at the way she said it matter-of-factly, then shrugged when the others began laughing.

“What can I say? I guess chivalry isn’t dead,” he said simply. Lucy finished her glass as he talked, then refilled it, also topping off Ryan’s while she was at it.

“Moving on?” The boy asked. Once the others calmed down, he was given the okay to continue the video, so he pressed play.

This time it was the first episode from season 4, where Lucy’s character Daphne is meeting Jason, the builder who accidentally killed Stylax.

“So, you’re the one that killed Stylax?” Daphne questioned, crossing her arms. Jason nodded his head, looking guilty.

“I really didn’t mean to, it was just our boss Cassius isn’t big on safety,” he explained, but Daphne held a hand up to stop him.

“I know, Marcus told me. Doesn’t make it any less sad though,” she answered simply. Jason’s eyebrows knit together.

“Are you his girlfriend?” He questioned, making her eyebrows raise.

“No, but Gods knows how much he wished for it,” she grumbled in response.

“Does that mean you’re single?” His guilty expression morphed into a hopeful one.

“What the hell mate? You just killed my best friend, now you’re hitting on my girl?” Ryan yelled jokingly, which caused Lucy and Jonathan (who played Jason) to break character. The two of them laughed as Ryan marched over to them, acting like he was about to fight Jonathan.

“Down boy,” Tom cut in with a laugh, pretending to hold Ryan back.

“No Ryan! You’re the only one for me,” Lucy exclaimed dramatically, resting her hands on his chest to “stop” him.

“Tell that to him!” The boy cried, gesturing to the man beside her before dropping the act with a chuckle. “Alright sorry,” he spoke as he walked off behind the camera. Lucy leaned down a bit as she laughed then upon standing straight again, she got back into character. She couldn’t get a word out before they began to laugh again.

“Man you were in such a silly mood that day,” Lucy said after they paused the video.

“Yeah, I don’t even know why. I think it’s because we were still getting used to having John around, I didn’t really know what to do with myself so I thought that messing around would get everyone more comfortable in the environment.”

“So you do know why,” Lucy pointed out with a grin.

“You- I…” he stopped and just took another drink of his wine, which made Lucy laugh. “Just play the next video,” was all Ryan could come up with for a response. Lucy shook her head, but did as he said.

This time they weren’t on the set of Plebs, it looked like they were getting ready for some sort of interview. “They” being Ryan, Lucy, Tom, Joel and Tom Basden (who played Aurelius). The five of them sat in director chairs side by side with another chair off to the side where their interviewer would sit. As they waited for said interviewer to arrive, they all made small talk with each other. Ryan had been talking with Tom B when he looked over at his girlfriend.

“What’s wrong?” He inquired, leaning closer to her so their conversation could be a bit more private.

“My hair,” Lucy answered, seeing no point in lying to him. “I don’t think I’m very happy with how they did it.” She gestured to her hair, which sat completely straight. Ryan pursed his lips then nodded. Without a word he suddenly stood up and walked behind her chair. The guys watched him, curious as to what he was up to. Even Lucy was confused for a moment, then she felt his fingers run through her hair.

“Hold still, yeah?” He instructed as he separated her hair into three sections, beginning to braid it. Lucy’s head tilted down a bit so he had more room to work with and took the time to get on her phone. After a few minutes he finally finished and used a ponytail on his wrist to tie the end of it.

“That better?” He questioned as he walked around to her side. The girl answered with a simple ‘yeah’ and moved her braid in front of her shoulder, running her fingers along the braids. The guys cooed teasingly when she kissed his cheek and the boy blushed shyly, telling them to bugger off while he sat back down in his chair.

“Aww that was so sweet,” Lucy said. “I completely forgot about that.”

“Wait so you just knew when something was bothering Lucy?” Sarah questioned, looking amazed.

“Yeah,” Ryan shrugged. “I’m usually able to spot any changes in Lucy’s behavior so I just kind of know how she feels about a certain situation. It’s the same with her as well, I think.” Lucy nodded at that and took another sip of her wine.

“Definitely,” she agreed. “I think it’s mostly just because we’ve known each other for almost eight years and dating for seven at this point. You have time to learn their mannerisms and understand how they process things so when something happens you can tell what’s going through their head.” Ryan nodded and took her hand. She smiled at him, leaning over to peck his lips. Sarah grinned at the interaction.

“Well, there are only a few more clips you need to look at, but they’re just random small ones that you don’t have to explain so you can just sit back and watch, yeah?” The couple nodded at her then Lucy leaned forward to press play.

Sarah hadn’t been lying. The last two minutes of the compilation were filled with random moments all from interviews and cons and such. It was mostly them acting cute, which made both of them smile. During one clip, Ryan couldn’t focus on their interview because he wanted to hold Lucy’s hand but they were in her lap so he made grabby hands at her until she obliged. In another clip they were doing a panel at some con where they just kept on talking to each other, looking as if they forgot everyone else was there until Tom R got their attention. A different clip showed Ryan attempting to speak in French to her (since she was born and raised in France) and being awful at it, but Lucy being absolutely delighted at it. There was one where they were just slow dancing on the set of Plebs, and another one where they were on set and Ryan sat on the couch while Lucy’s head laid in his lap and he was playing with her hair.

There were many other clips, but the last one was their favorite. It was a clip, they recognized, that Tom R had recorded and shared to Instagram. It was a video of when Ryan proposed to Lucy.

It had been at his birthday party and they just finished giving him his presents. Lucy was helping Sofia throw away the wrapping paper when Ryan suddenly stood.

“Alright, I know that this is my birthday, but there’s still a gift I have for someone,” he announced, making everyone look between themselves confusedly. “Lucy,” he called softly, gesturing to his girlfriend to come closer to him. Lucy glanced at Sofia curiously before doing so, trying to figure out why the girl was smiling like that. Ryan’s arm went around her as he looked around at all their friends and family.

“This party couldn’t have happened without this amazing woman right here,” he started proudly while Lucy took notice that Tom was holding his phone up as if recording something. “She’s the one who planned everything and made sure that I would have a good time. But that’s not something she does only on occasion. She’s always been there to help me and guide me through gatherings such as this without so much as a hint of annoyance, which I know she probably has.” The crowd chuckled at that. “She’s been with me through thick and thin and I’m so lucky to have her. I genuinely can’t even begin to imagine my life without her. So,” he said.

Various gasps emitted from the crowd, but Lucy couldn’t bring herself to speak as her boyfriend lowered to one knee. He pulled something out of his pocket then held it up to her. It was a ring, she realized as her hands went to her mouth.

“Lucy Règine Margaux, you’ve been making me happy for the past seven years, but I know a way that you can make me even happier. Veux-tu m'épouser (Will you marry me)?” Lucy didn’t hesitate to nod.

“Of course I’ll marry you,” she responded with a small, teary-eyed laugh. Their friends and family nearly deafened the couple as Ryan stood and slipped the ring on her finger. Just before the video cut, the couple embraced tightly and people could be seen beginning to surround them to congratulate them.

“That was so nice,” Lucy said with a small smile. “It felt like we were reliving each stage of our relationship.” Ryan nodded and wrapped his arm around her.

“I love you,” he muttered softly, which made her heart melt. She knew he meant it too.

“I love you too,” she said sweetly, making everyone watching’s hearts melt. Sarah said something to them from off camera, which made them look over.

“Right,” Ryan started, straightening up and looking at the camera with a toothy grin. “Thank you everyone for watching this episode of Behind the Romance. We hope to see you next time. Goodbye!” Lucy sat beside him, taking his hand.

“Bye guys,” she said rather happily as both of them waved with their free hands. Just before the cameras cut, Ryan and Lucy shared a sweet kiss that made Sarah ‘aww’ at them. She didn’t even need to make an episode about it to see that they were truly in love.

#plebs #ryan sampson #Ryan Sampson x oc

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queennicoleinboots · 4 years

Text

The Secret Society of Goats Has New Uniforms and New Members (repost??)

Lindsay, my best female friend, started off the meeting with a ritualistic truth dance. Mr. Thor, Murphee, Lindsay, Peter, and I led the meeting.

Asshole Peter is now rank 16. He was able to ignore my cat, Kissy, a new member of the secret society of goats and not die. As a result of his razzle dazzle bullshit, I turned that mother fucker into a giraffe yesterday. I was supposed to wait until November to turn him into a giraffe, but fuck him and his tall, pale, and awkward bullshit.

In other news, I turned myself into a jaguar as a side effect of the spell. I can bleat, but I always sound angry because Peter W. Parker pisses me off. I'm hungry all the time, too. At least jaguars are predators to giraffes.

Peter's girlfriend, Joselyn, constantly talks about how she wants to ride him. She loves riding giraffes, especially if they are assholes like Peter. She sat on his back when the meeting officially began.

"Ladies and Gentlemen... and animals," Mr. Thor said.

Murphee barked to acknowledge this statement.

"We have a new member. His name is A. P. Himmel," Mr. Thor said.

A.P. Himmel stood up. "Oh Lord. Please, Mr. Thor and all members of this secret society of goats, call me Paul," he said with an excellent bleat.

Everyone except asshole giraffe Peter bleated.

Bruce the Ace of Brake-fixing was still struggling with his bleat. "Damn," he said.

"Oh God. My cousin's named Paul," Peter said. "And he isn't part of the secret society of goats... Should we appoint this Paul with a title?!"

Everyone, especially the women, bleated in affirmation.

"Yes! Paul the Goat?" Mr. Thor asked.

Paul laughed hard and hearty. "Yes. Paul the Goat is suiting," he said.

"Wonderful! Let the induction ceremony begin!" Mr. Thor announced.

Everyone bleated. Joebear growled in affirmation. He was a good beast.

"Come on stage, Paul the Goat!" Mr. Thor said with authority.

Paul the Goat went on stage. Everyone bleated. Bruce the Ace of Brake-fixing was still having trouble bleating, so he coughed to clear his throat.

Kissy meowed out of turn and started biting Joebear's ankles out of excitement.

"Stop, Kissy," Joebear said kindly.

Kissy stopped before she pawed at his toes.

"I said, 'Stop,' baby girl," Joebear said.

"Quit!!!!" I yelled in the middle of the induction ceremony.

Joebear and Kissy perked up. Everyone stared at us.

"Sorry, bae. She's just a little kitten. She's excited. She didn't mean anything by it," Joebear said.

Kissy meowed an apology.

"I know, but we're conducting a meeting. When we get done inducting Paul the Goat and discussing business, you guys can do your bullshit. Until then, stop!" I yelled.

"You're a little strung out, huh?" Joebear asked.

"Yes, dear," I said as I hissed before roaring at his bear ass.

Kissy reared up in fright.

"Ahem. Well, Paul the Goat, I need you to sign these forms," Mr. Thor said.

Peter's phone made a noise as it frequently does these days. "Jesus Christ, Dad! I'm at an important meeting!" he yelled.

"Tell your dad to cool it!" I snapped.

"Who the fuck are you to say anything to me?! I'm rank 16! You're rank 15. Shut the fuck up," Peter yelled and bleated in giraffe language.

Mr. Thor smashed the ground with his hammer and screamed. "For the love of God, I'm trying to induct a new member, and you guys are being asshats. I'm rank 29. On my authority, shut the fuck up!" Mr. Thor yelled.

Everyone at that point started to act like a normal goat/bear/giraffe/cat/jaguar/dog.

Paul the Goat bleated out of excitement as he signed the documents.

Everyone bleated. Mr. Thor bleated again. Murphee barked. Kissy and Garfield meowed.

Tug burst in the door.

"Oh God! I forgot to lock the door again. Fuck it. Can we induct Tug in the secret society of goats? This is the second fucking time he's done this shit!" Murphee said dramatically.

"Sure! Paul the Goat is still signing documents!" Mr. Thor yelled and threw his hands up while holding his mighty Thor hammer.

Joebear's phone rang, and the Pokemon theme song began.

"Oh for the love of God..." Mr. Thor said as he sighed loudly.

Joebear yelled. "I forgot to turn the phone off."

I answered the phone and put it on speaker.

Everyone bleated to answer the phone. The theme song changed to a cheery Christmas tone from The Grinch Who Stole Christmas (2000).

The phone spoke and sounded like the Grinch in The Grinch Who Stole Christmas with Jim Carrey. "If you are a goat that needs health insurance, press 1. If you are a bear that needs health insurance, press 2. If you are a cat of any kind that needs health insurance, press 3. If you are a giraffe that needs health insurance, press 4. If you are a dog that needs health insurance, press 5. If you are a toilet that needs health insurance, press 9. If you'd like to fax me, press the star key."

A few goats in the background laughed. One goat said, "I wish he'd call me, I'd press 1. I hate owing on taxes because I don't have health insurance!"

A few other goats, Lindsay, Prince Carrington, and I laughed at his response.

Joebear sighed loudly. He said "Oh my God!" quietly before he spoke in a regular tone. "May I speak to a person?"

"Blast this Christmas music! It's joyful AND triumphant!" the voice that sounded like Jim Carrey's grinch said.

Everyone in the meeting hall laughed hysterically.

The phone clicked before a person answered in an Indian accent, "Hello?!"

"What company are you?" Joebear asked.

Everyone bleated loudly. Paul the Goat bleated even louder to prove his worth.

"Excuse me? Do you want health insurance?" the man with the Indian accent asked.

Joebear growled. "What. Company. Are. You?"

The phone hung up, and the Christmas theme song stopped.

"Ignorant asshole. I'm collecting a check from you!" Joebear said before he growled and bleated at the same time.

Paul the Goat announced, "I am finished signing the documents!"

Tug howled and half-barked.

"CAN WE INDUCT MY DOG AND MOVE ON WITH THIS GOD-FORSAKEN MEETING!!!" Peter yelled as he jumped up and down. Joselyn was holding onto him and giggling.

"YES! I'D LIKE TO, YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE!" Mr. Thor yelled before screaming in Asgardian language! "Tug!!!"

Tug howled loudly and jumped on stage. "I'm ready! My house is exploding! Let's get on with this!" he said.

Peter sighed his trademark sigh and bleated out of frustration. "Not again!" he yelled.

Mr. Thor beat the floor with the hammer before he turned to Tug. "Tug, do you, Great Basenji, agree to follow the code of the secret society? Do you agree to burst in on a meeting only for an absolute purpose of doing right by a moral code?"

Tug howled and reared up in agreement.

Everyone laughed and bleated.

Peter's phone went off again. He looked down and yelled, "DAD!" He was texting him back and humming.

Tug looked over at Peter and yipped a few times out of frustration.

"Getting frustrated with Peter is an essential part of being a member of this society," Mr. Thor said.

Tug howled loudly in agreement.

"Peter is a fucking asshole," Mr. Thor said.

Tug and Murphee howled in agreement.

"Fuck you!" Peter yelled.

"This meeting wouldn't exist without Peter saying 'Fuck you,'" I said.

Kissy and Garfield meowed in agreement.

Mr. Thor let Tug go through the papers to put his paw print on the appropriate dotted lines.

Joebear petted Kissy and Garfield to comfort them.

When Tug was filling out paperwork, Peter all of a sudden bleated like the giraffe he was. He jumped up and down with Joselyn riding his back. He bleated one more time like a giraffe before running out of the meeting hall at full speed.

Everyone except Tug and Mr. Thor looked out of the window and wondered what the fuck that was about.

"What was that about?" Joebear asked while he looked legitimately confused and scared. "This reminds me of the time I went off on Covington Credit in Athens over the phone for reason only apparent to me six weeks ago."

We watched as Peter chomped on some leaves on the trees outside to relieve stress and anxiety that his dad causes him on a regular basis. Apparently, Peter had gotten hungry from the bullshit this meeting put him through.

Joselyn was petting his back as she rode him. She bleated several times. A few times, she bleated in his ears. He bleated back softly.

We bleated loudly several times in response. Bruce the Ace of Brake-fixing still had trouble bleating, so he coughed and said, "Baaaaahhhhh!" He should have been in the secret society of sheep based on his larynx ability. He was still welcome in the secret society of goats, though.

"Oh God, you people are such normies. You don't know it. Just wake up one morning and listen to yourselves. Listen to yourselves. You're normies," Mr. Thor announced.

Everyone laughed and bleated.

Murphee barked in agreement.

"MURPHAY!" I yelled.

"MURPHAY!!!" everyone yelled. Everyone added an obligatory bleat.

Joselyn rode Peter back into the meeting hall.

"We have returned," Peter announced as he slowly laid on the mat next to me on the end. Joselyn's ass stayed glued to Peter's back.

"Welcome back, Peter," Mr. Thor said.

"Welcome back, Peter," everyone said. Everyone bleated.

Peter and Joselyn bleated well.

Tug slammed his paw on the last document and announced, "I have finished my paperwork. Please get to official business. Peter's father isn't faring well. We must make haste!"

Joebear smashed a spider near him. "Sorry. He was too big. He couldn't stay," he said.

Mr. Thor spoke, "Jesus... Now that the spider is gone, we can talk about new uniforms."

Tug sighed. "Of course! I picked today's meeting to call an emergency for Jamie. Jesus.... uniforms..."

Mr. Thor threw a Viking hat on Tug's head and said, "Go forth. Relay the message that Peter shall be there shortly."

Tug rushed out of the meeting hall and said, "Thank you."

When Tug rushed out, Gabby, Mr. Thor's missing thin tabby cat with pale blue majestic eyes, walked through the hall in regal style. Everyone looked to him and bleated.

Gabby came on the stage. Mr. Thor crowned him with a Viking helmet. Gabby thanked him. Murphee howled in his honor.

When Gabby spoke, he had the melodic deep voice of James Earl Jones. "Hello everyone of the secret society of goats and to the basenji that ran out of here in honor."

Everyone bleated loudly and said, "Hello!" Bruce the Ace of Brake-fixing and Paul the Goat were a bit slow to respond. They were still new members who had no idea whom the fuck Gabby was.

"Hello. I have come to announce that I have a new owner. She is a 90-year-old woman that needs my love and care. Without me, she has no animal to watch over her," Gabby announced. He turned to Mr. Thor and said, "I thank thee for caring for me for 20 years. I have you to thank for the cat I am today."

Some of the other goats were shedding tears of joy for Gabby.

"You're welcome," Mr. Thor said. "I thank you for doing your goatly... catly duty for this esteemed society. I couldn't be prouder of you, Gabby Hayes Parmello."

Murphee howled. Everyone bleated. Bruce the Ace of Brake-fixing struggled with the last few seconds of his bleat.

"Now go forth, Gabby Hayes. Take care of that woman. Come to our meetings when you can. As a rank 20 goat/cat elite, you can pick and choose when to come," Mr. Thor said.

Gabby Hayes walked off the stage, down the middle of the meeting hall, and exited.

Everyone bleated loudly.

"Gabbbbbbaaaaayyyyyyyy!!" Every member except Bruce the Ace of Brake-fixing and Paul the Goat yelled in excitement.

"Gabby is a rank 20 cat goat that must be acknowledged before, during, and after the meetings he attends. He brings joy to all of Georgia's neighborhoods," Lindsay said to Bruce the Ace of Brake-fixing.

"Wow! There are so many surprises in this society. How do you guys keep track of what the hell is going on?" asked Bruce the Ace of Brake-fixing.

"We don't," Prince Carrington answered with a laugh bleat.

"Very true," Peter said as he rolled his eyes. "This society is completely fucked-up."

"Especially because you're in it. I hate you," I said to Peter.

"Hate you, too. I hate the air you breathe," Peter said with a giraffe bleat.

I growled at him like the jaguar I was.

Mr. Thor beat the floor with his mighty hammer again.

Murphee barked three times.

"Now to discuss uniforms! For the men of this esteemed secret society of goats, we will wear Viking helmets, loin cloths, and boots up to our knees. We will also carry mighty hammers if we are above rank 10 and have aposable thumbs," Mr. Thor said.

Peter looked down at his hooves and said, "Fuck!"

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little-owly · 7 years

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boi oh boi this was a T R E A T to write >:3c tell me what y'all think!! -- Marvin hurried Chase, Anti, and Jac//kieb//oy Man into his personal office. A toothy smile plastered across his face -- excitement filling him as he gathered his wand and cape from his desk. It had taken Marvin nearly 3 weeks to perfect the spell he was casting today. Repeating the mantra over and over to himself during his practices -- practically crying with relief when he finally got the words right. Now, he just needed a test audience. Which is where his three friends (and fellow egos) came in. As Marvin closed the blinds, Chase spoke up. His voice concerned and worried. "Marv? Bud? I don't really know about you moving onto spells and shit. Can't you just..." he trailed off, "stick with illusions?" "...what?" "He means we're worried about you messing around with something you don't know /how/ to control." Jac//kieb//oy Man added. He pulled his red hoodie down and blue mask off, a serious expression staring Marvin down, "you don't think about what you're conjuring up to help you do these weird little spells?" "Oh, you gotta be kidding me." Marvin sighed, "this isn't even something huge like 'make me fly' or 'make them fall in love with me'!" Marvin retorted, anger rising in him. How could they not support his new tricks? How could they say such judgmental things about his act? "They're right and you know it," Anti chuckled, "you could call up some bad voodoo shit. Or do some weird irreversible spell." "Oh Christ, even you?!" Marvin laughed -- hand running through his own green bangs, "wow. Even the walking evil demon...person...glitch thingy?" Anti rolled his eyes and turned back to the other two, who had taken their seats at the couch in front of Marvin's makeshift 'stage' (his desk, with a hastily thrown red tablecloth draped over it.) "Hey. I tried to tell 'im too. Whatever happens is his fault." Marvin bit back the snicker as the three looked on. Thankful for his stubborn attitude. Oh, he'll show them. He'll show them just how amazing he is as a spell caster /and/ a magician! He coughed and turned his back to them, putting on his trademark cat mask before turning on his desk lamp for dramatic effect. Marvin's red and black cape swishing loudly as he faced his small crowd. "Good evening, all you beautiful people." He grinned. Chase and Jac//kieb//oy Man clapping as Anti booed. Typical Anti. "Ah, I hear we have some non-believers in the crowd." He posed dramatically as he pulled his wand from thin air, "never a problem with me -- Mar//vin the Ma//gni//ficent! The man who can turn the most harden skeptic into a true believer." Chase leaned over and whispered into Jac//kieb//oy Man's ear. Anti on their left side watching Marvin with a bored expression, "what spell is he even doin'?" Jac//kieb//oy Man answered him with a slow shrug. Both at a loss for what Marvin had planned up his sleeves. "Well, whatever it is -- I'm not saving 'im." Anti interrupted. His hand closing around his mouth as he yelled, "hey! Hoodini! I paid for a magic show, not a two hour long monologue!" Marvin huffed, "Anti, you didn't pay at all." *** And so, Marvin got on with it. Preparing the three with a few classic illusions. He started with the standard 'pulling a (plushie) rabbit from a top hat', moved onto a few quick disappearing acts, and ended with a mirror trick -- one that actually got a gasp out of Anti! A new achievement! "My dearest friends, I believe we end this night of dazzling tricks with one that will leave you breathless," Marvin smirked, grabbing the old spell book from behind his desk, "have you ever worried about aging? The once youthful and beautiful body and face you had, being lost to time itself?" Chase and Jac//kieb//oy Man exchanged worried looks. "My dearest friends -- I have pondered this question over and over. Finally willing myself to just see how exactly I'll be when I'm older. Will I be the grouchy old man down the street? Or the sweet old man staring out the window of some nursery home?" he smiled. "Marvin--" "I need absolute silence, please." Marvin stared down the worried Chase. Opening to the marked page to get one last quick look at the spell, Marvin stood before the three with arms and legs stretched out. "Now, will anyone give me an age over 50?" "56!" Anti shouted out. Chase and Jac//kieb//oy Man giving him a look that screamed 'you're not helping'. Marvin nodded his head, smile as wide as a mile. Stomach fluttering as he readied himself. All those late nights -- willing himself to get this right -- finally leading to this moment. It's showtime. The ancient foreign words spilt from Marvin's lips. Echoing around the office, the desk lamp flickering, the plushie rabbit from the last few tricks falling to the ground as the spell worked it's magic. Green and gold smoke appearing in a flash before the three. The room shaking with whatever power Marvin has unleashed. "Fuck--" Chase held back on his curse as the smoke settled. Marvin slumped to his knees on the floor. Breathing heavily as he shivered. No. Something was wrong. Something was definitely wrong. "Marvin?! Marvin!" Ja//ckieb//oy Man stood first, rushing over to the injured (?) magician. Chase joining him as Anti sat still. Unimpressed. "Marvin? Jesus, I knew we shouldn't have--" Marvin's blue eyes met Chase's. Tears rushing down his face as he winced. A quiet childlike voice breaking the worried silence. "D-Da...da?" "...what? Marvin--" He turned to Jac//kieb//oy Man. Crying even harder. "Papa...?" The two shared confused looks. Dada? Papa? Where had that come from? And what was with his soft voice? The two let go of Marvin as he crawled over to the forgotten plushie rabbit. Grabbing it's soft fur ear and crying harder. Outright sobbing like a...well... "I thought this was suppose to make you older, not a baby." Anti scoffed, "you fuckin' /suck/ at this." "Anti!" Chase yelled, "can you just shut up for a few seconds?!" The loud yelling and insults set Marvin off more. Sobbing harder as his face turned red. Holding out his hands in a grabbing motion towards Jac//kieb//oy Man. "What the fuck is going on," he sighed. Picking up the other man and going over to the forgotten book. Hoping to get to the bottom of whatever was going on with Marvin. "Marvin," Anti hissed in disgust, "don't chew on that toy's ear, who knows where it's been." *** Marvin babbled loudly as Chase held him. Calming him down by (ridiculously) shaking his car keys in front of him. Marvin responding with giddy giggles and quiet coos. Uncoordinated hands trying to catch the keys. "Chase, Anti! I think I figured out what happened!" The two followed behind the desk with Jac//kieb//oy Man. Chase leaving Marvin on the floor with his plushie rabbit -- who was currently being snuggled by Marvin. "Look," Jac//kieb//oy Man pointed towards a warning above the aged paper, hidden by the sticky note marker Marvin had used. "'Should you mix up the last two words, trouble you will seek. Instead you'll be aged back to six months, your mind young and meek. Do not worry about being this young forever, these effects only last for up to a week. This spell is for the strong and smart, not dumb and weak.'" Jac//kieb//oy Man read aloud. As if on cue, Marvin babbled and nibbled on his own fingers again. Cooing as he hugged the plushie rabbit tighter. "Jesus," Chase sighed, "he's...really only six months? Like, up here?" he points to his head. Anti crossing his arms. "Serves him right," Anti laughed, "guess no more shows or spells for a while." "Wait. Six months." Jac//kieb//oy Man looked to the two, "that means he's not potty trained anymore, right?" "Oh fuck." Anti groaned, annoyed. Of course Marvin had to suck them all into this nightmare of a situation. Not only did they have to deal with a dumbed down Marvin, but change him as well? The three argued as Marvin stopped suckling on his fingers. Looking down at his black tux pants. Wet warmth cascading down his legs and under his butt. Bottom lip wobbly as he continued to wet himself -- crying loud enough to get their attention. Anti being the first to look over and see the ever growing puddle. Glitching out more and more as he grew more angry. "Damn it!" Anti yelled, "I'm getting the doc and explaining this bullshit. You two...do /something/." *** "What the hell did you four get yourselves into." Dr. Sch//neeple//stein sighed. Bringing the three into his office as Marvin laid on the examination table. Soft fluffy diaper secured around his waist. Sleeping soundly in a loose shirt and cuddling his rabbit from before. "Oh God," Jac//kieb//oy Man looked away. Anti laughing loudly in the hall, the mere sight of Marvin padded up too much for him to take seriously. Poor Chase -- worried as ever -- walked in with ease. Hands clasped together as the doctor took a seat. "Well, nothing physically wrong with him other than the temporary incontinence." "It's just--" "Yes, I know. A week. Anti caught me up to speed on the whole affair." The doctor sighed, "best course of action would be to just, well, take care of him until next Monday." Chase nodded, "of course. Is...is there anyway we can have access to the medical diapers you have?" The doctor nodded, signing off bits of paper work and gathering the supplies for the three. "We?!" Anti asked from the hall, "who said I'm--" "Now. Is. Not. The. Fuckin'. Time. Anti." Chase hissed. *** "Took a while to find some more, but here we go. A few days worth of diapers, wipes, powder, and an adult pacifier." "Why do you have that?" Jac//kieb//oy Man asked, holding Marvin in his arms. A soft and warm red blanket from Chase's office wrapped around him. "Helps some patients stop snoring," the doctor yawned, "guys -- it's 9:30, you should all be getting home." "You're right -- thank you so much, Doc. You're a life saver." The doctor waved them off as he locked up his office for the night. Wondering how well the three would do with the mentally younger Marvin. He could hear them arguing again from his car. Yeah, Dr. Sch//neeple//stein gave it about a day or two before disaster happened. *** Marvin happily suckled on the small bottle of milk as Chase held him. The three of them sleeping over at his apartment until this whole situation was under control. Anti, however, snored loudly in the guest room. Doing nothing to help other than (harshly) throwing the plushie rabbit in Marvin's face the minute they piled into Chase's car. Making Marvin cry his heart out for nearly an hour. "Can he be any more annoying?" Jac//kieb//oy Man sighed, "Schneep said those adult binkies help people stop snoring -- can we convince him to get Anti one. Before I throw myself off your balcony?" Chase nodded. Tired and on the brink of sleep. "Let's focus on one baby at a time." He replied. Getting up to settle Marvin down for the night. Exhausted -- yet a small part of him glad to be taking care of someone again. Almost feeling a sense of belonging he hadn't felt since Stacey took the kids. Something swelling inside him, warming his body with affection. He tucked in Marvin before scooting under the heavy blanket himself. His bedroom dimmed down just for Marvin. He hesitated before pressing a soft kiss to Marvin's temple. "Sweet dreams, Marv. We'll take good care of ya."

#abdlsepticeye #owlys fics

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nanoland · 3 years

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mazikeen/eve/michael fic in progress

title: Ponder on the Narrow House

fandom: Lucifer

characters: Mazikeen, Eve, Michael

blurb: In which Mazikeen isn't finished with Michael yet.

warnings: Spoilers for Season 5.