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#was that what killed it with Charlene

bettyfrommars · 9 months

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I'm on Fire

Part 13: This Heart is Haunted

18+Only, mature content, angst, reader is being stalked, mention of physical & emotional abuse, biker MC, unprotected sex, sex with someone other than reader, exes are everywhere, mention of battling cancer, home invasion, tarot reading, spiritual guidance, mention of a gun, mention of taking someone's life, hurt & comfort. wc: 8.6k

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Summary: Reader and Eddie are very much in love as the world piles on again. Both of their exes are in town, and Craig leaves a disturbing calling card to let reader know he is watching. Steve is properly introduced to Charlene in more ways than one, Astrid tries to protect Steve in the best way she knows how, and we get a peek into what Wayne "Uncle" Munson is thinking

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"Wendy let me in, I wanna be your friend I want to guard your dreams and visions Just wrap your legs 'round these velvet rims And strap your hands across my engines."

Born to Run - Bruce Springsteen

I'm on Fire Part 13: This Heart is Haunted

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John Gregson sent you a generous down payment for his commissioned painting, and most of it went right to the art store with you to by a roll of canvas, new paints, and brushes. Eddie went with you, and insisted on driving your car, but not before he had to adjust the driver’s seat all the way back so that he wasn’t eating his knees. He found a paint-by-numbers color pack of a dragon for Oliver, and crept up behind you, pretending to be someone else.

“Excuse me, miss? You are so fine,” he whispered in the sketchbook aisle. “Are you single, by chance?”

You checked to each side of you, feigning to look for him. “There’s this one guy I fuck from time to time, but it’s not serious.”

“Oh, is that right?” Eddie tickled your ribs, and then picked you up off your feet, munching down on the side of your neck with his teeth. “You better take it back.”

“You’re gonna get us kicked out,” you wiggled free with a laugh that seemed to echo off of the store walls, shoes squeaking on the linoleum.

Eddie wouldn’t let you carry anything on the way out to the car, and you did not miss some of the feminism that left your body in that moment as he held one of the bags in his teeth. The canvas roll was almost too long for the back seat, and you had a moment of panic, but then Eddie figured it out, clapping for himself after and taking a small bow.

The big, scary biker with the tattooed hands and the War Machine insignia kindly reminded you to fasten your seat belt, just as he clicked on his own and slipped his sunglasses on.

“I don’t know, Munson,” you grinned into the sun as he backed out of the parking space. “You’ve been such a help today, there might be some roadhead on the menu.”

He slammed the brakes and snapped his head to look at you, his hair flying, making you get the giggles. “See, now you’ll have to forget I said anything. I want it to be a surprise.”

He continued backing out, checking over his shoulder. “Surprise roadhead could kill a man, baby. You gotta give me some warning.”

So far, it had been the most chill day since before you’d been fired. You were sinking into the routine of “normal” couples, doing mundane chores together, holding hands in public, being sickeningly, adoringly head over heels for each other. And it felt really good. So good, in fact, you could almost forget for a second about all of the shit that had gone wrong, and could possibly go wrong.

Much earlier that morning as you lay curled up naked next to him in bed with your leg over him and your head on his chest, listening to a song by Mother Love Bone pour out softly from the stereo in Eddie’s apartment, he asked what you were thinking.

You’d been quiet for a while, zoning out, touching your fingertips to his as he spread them out to meet yours across the menacing bat tattoo on his chest.

“It’s silly,” you mumbled, kissing his shoulder with the side of your mouth. The morning was warm with a soft breeze blowing one of the long, blue curtains out into the room, and above the sound of the music came the rumble of motorcycles rolling into the compound, and electric drill firing in the garage across the way.

“Still,” he rested his head on yours. “I want to hear it. I want to know what goes on in that quirky brain of yours.”

As comfortable as you were with Eddie at that point, you were shy about admitting some of your deep-seated insecurities. What if you spoke them out loud and they came true? What if you started to let him know what went on in your “quirky”, anxiety riddled brain, and it scared him off?

You decided to take a chance, burying your face a bit more in the indentation of his armpit. “In the past, whenever I've felt genuine happiness, or everything seemed to be going really well, that’s always when everything would go to shit. So, I have this fear that—”

“---that you’re going to lose me?” Eddie interrupted softly, sliding his fingers down to intertwine with yours.

“Well, yeah,” you admitted. “Exactly that. Losing you, or something happening to Katie or Steve’s family. Anyone I care about.”

“The same shit happens to me in my head,” he promised. “It almost won’t let me enjoy whatever good thing is happening because I’m already thinking about how it could get fucked up. I’m always anticipating the next bad thing.”

“We are a sad pair,” you snorted a laugh.

“Hey, really though, listen to me,” he squeezed you tighter. “You’re not going to lose me, baby, fuck that. As long as we tell each other what is going on and we don’t have any secrets, no one can fuck with us. I won’t let anyone fuck with us.”

You propped up on your forearm to meet his eyes; they were bright brown and earnest. You swept his bangs to the side with your fingertips. “Well, that’s good to know because I don’t think I’d survive this level of heartbreak.”

“I won’t ever break your heart,” Eddie searched your face, running his knuckle down your cheek. “And if you break mine, I’ll probably sulk around for the rest of my life, just a shell of a man, playing songs on the street corner for loose change.”

You chuckled and scooted closer to kiss his mouth. “What are the deal breakers for you in a relationship? Something you could never forgive?”

He squinted curiously at you. “Are you trying to walk that line, sweetheart?”

“No,” you bit your lip through a smile, but then dropped your head back to the warm skin of his shoulder. “My deal breaker is cheating. I can forgive a lot of things, but never that.”

Eddie took a big inhale, thinking about this, but then he swallowed hard. “Just the thought of another man touching you, past or present, makes me see red, baby.”

There was a tension in the air as Eddie considered the crushing weight of said betrayal, and you bit at a piece of skin on your thumb, thinking about the complex inner workings of Eddie Munson.

To break the heavy silence, you started crawling on top of him, kissing his neck, working your core against his stiff morning wood. Eddie held your face and sucked at your bottom lip, running his tongue along the soft skin there, while you pressed the slick of your slit on his cock, arousal already evident.

“Would you really kill someone for me, baby?” You breathed, reminded of how he said he would kill or die for you.

“Without question,” he hissed at your wetness, reaching down to line the tip of his cock up with your entrance.

You sank down quickly, needing all of him with fluttering urgency. “When I think of someone, I will let you know,” you hushed. He cursed into your mouth and spanked your ass as you rode him, knowing that this was the only cock you would have inside of you for the rest of your life, and you felt like the luckiest girl in the world.

Back in the sunny parking lot outside of the art supply store, Eddie continued on behind the wheel, pausing for a group of people as they strolled into he store, hand on your leg, squeezing your knee as he waited. He angled the car down in front of a clothing store, on his way to exit onto the street, and had to wait for a couple more people to cross.

You weren’t paying attention, too absorbed at the time pawing through the bag of goodies in your lap, fingering the new pastels and linseed oil with glee. But Eddie’s fingers dug into your leg and gripped there in a way that made you glance over at him.

Waiting at the crosswalk, Eddie’s skin drained of color as he watched the people pass in front of the car. You followed his attention: there was an older woman, perhaps 50, two younger girls maybe ages 7 or 8, a pretty blonde girl around 30, and a woman who could have been a supermodel with long, auburn hair, a short denim skirt, and a dragon tattoo on her thigh.

Your attention rose to Eddie and his nostrils flared, blinking a few times, teeth grinding.

For whatever reason, the tension made you nervous. “Baby, what is it? What’s wrong? Do you know them?”

Eddie swallowed, patting your leg a few times, forcing a smile that did not reach his eyes. “It’s nothing sweetheart. I just remembered something I had to do later on, that’s all.”

Not even a full day had passed since you’d both agreed to never to keep anything from each other, and there he was, lying already. He knew that you could tell he was withholding something, which made it even worse. His hope at the time was, if he ignored it, maybe it would go away.

Somehow, Melanie coming into town had almost slipped his mind, until he saw her there with his very own eyes walking with Chrissy, her mom, and her twin daughters. She looked different, but also exactly the same. The difference was that he no longer found her attractive; she might as well of had rotting flesh rolling off her bones for how repulsed he was to see her there in the street. He wasn’t afraid to tell you, he just didn’t want it to be real, he wanted to ignore her until she left town, and you could live in the bliss of never being able to put a face to her.

First of all, Eddie was a horrible liar. It was not hard for you to put the pieces together and realize that he did know one of the women in that group, if not all of them. But, you took one last look at his profile, told him you loved him, and decided to let it go. For now.

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A few days earlier, after the incident with Inky, Steve rolled up to the house at dawn to find Robin waiting up at the kitchen table. She was having a cigarette with her coffee, and Robin never smoked. He watched her bite into her thumbnail, chew it off, and then spit it on the floor as he stepped into the room.

“What’s up?” Steve shut the sliding door behind him and locked it. “Where’s Oliver?”

Robin put her finger to her lips to ask him to ask him to keep it down. She saw how he was favoring his freshly bandaged hand, but chose not to ask questions. “Katie is asleep,” she flicked the end of her cig over the ashtray. “Oliver spent the night with Wayne.”

Cautiously, Steve clapped down into the seat across from her, wallet chain hitting first, motioning for her to slide the pack of bargain basement knockoff cigarettes over. He had his own lighter, but she shot the box of matches over to him as well. Striking the match to light his smoke, Steve bucked his chin at the manila envelope she had next to her. “What’s in there?”

Robin brushed her hair off of her face and hunched forward. “Oh it’s just a little something. Might cheer you up.”

She pushed the envelope toward him with the pads of her fingers, both sets of eyes on it as it traveled across the faux wood surface. Now Steve knew exactly what it was when he saw the label on the front but even then, he was riddled with confusion.

“How did you--?”

A part of Steve knew, even though there’s no way he could’ve had any idea where Robin went that night or what she’d said to Tina to get her to sign her rights to Oliver away. Or the gun she’d pointed loaded and proud, letting them know there were only two ways the night could end, and both involved her walking away with those signatures. The saddest part was how quickly Tina had agreed to take the money in exchange for Oliver; there hadn’t even been a glimmer of internal struggle. Robin told herself it was for the best though, and once Oliver was old enough to ask questions, he would never know about that night, or how quickly he’d been given up.

Now, they really were broke, even more than before, and without any safety net to fall back on. But, no one would ever show up and try to take their son away again without facing legal ramifications, and Robin might’ve also let her know that she wouldn’t hesitate to put a bullet in her throat if she ever tried to get sneaky. “If you take Oliver, Steve and I will have nothing to lose. You know what they say about not wanting to fuck with someone who has nothing to lose.”

Steve peeked inside, exhaling a long, hot breath. After sucking on his lip for a few seconds, he raised a skeptical eyebrow at her. “You’re telling me you got her to sign these and you got them notarized?”

“Katie,” Robin squinted and took another drag. The sleeve of her flannel fell down to expose the vine of an ivy tattoo on her forearm.

“She’s a notary? No shit?” he said the last part under his breath, chuckling a bit to himself.

Katie’s old job status as a notary public was a small detail that Robin had been fascinated to discover. Meeting up at a seedy motel in the middle of the night in her pajamas did not put Katie in a particularly compliant mood, but she offered her official services without too much of a fight. In fact, she had to admit later how much it had turned her on to find her girlfriend holding two people at gunpoint like that. It made her feel like she was in an episode of 21 Jump Street.

Steve rubbed one eye with the palm of his hand. The other hand, the one Astrid had cleaned and put a fresh bandage on for good measure, had just been used as a deadly weapon and pummeled a guy to the brink of death just the day before. He’d do it again in a heartbeat because no one threatened his family and got away with it. “Jesus, fuck, Rob. You know I love you, right?”

“Oh, you better,” she snorted a laugh, and then, softly,“I’d do anything for Ollie. And you. You know this,” and then she smashed the cigarette out in the ashtray. She couldn’t look him in the eye for fear the floodgates would open.

A sob hitched in his chest and he had to clear his throat. He really was on some real emotional bullshit lately and he made a fist with his good hand and banged it on the table, trying to collect himself. “Ditto.”

Robin got up and stretched her arms back with a yawn. “I’m going back to bed for an hour. You at the shop this afternoon?”

“Until late, yeah,” Steve couldn’t take his eyes off of the envelope. “I’m working on that chest piece for Thor.” Thor was one of the other Coffin Kings, a huge, beastly blonde dude with a long, braided beard.

Robin braced her hands on the back of the chair. “You thought anymore about going to Scott’s wedding this weekend?”

“Scott, you mean Daphne’s Scott?” Steve shook his head. “I haven’t thought about it at all, actually. There’s no way I’m going to that.”

Steve had only met Scott once at one of their barbecues, and Daphne knew Robin because her daughter and Oliver were the same age, but the last place Steve wanted to be stuck at was a wedding for two people he barely knew, or any wedding at all for that matter.

“You sure?” Robin craned her neck. “There’s going to be an open bar at the reception.”

“Nah, I got a thing on Saturday,” Steve waved his hand. “Take Katie, why don��t you?”

“I’ll think about it,” Robin worked her neck from side to side. “What do you have on Saturday?”

For some reason, a voice inside of Steve whispered that he should keep his plans vague. “Body guard gig,” he offered in a bored tone. He didn’t have to ask to know that Robin must’ve had to have paid off Tina somehow, and now they’d need some extra cash more than ever. What he wanted to do was change the subject. “Any word from Susie or Dustin?”

“Now that you mention it,” Robin scratched her cheek. “She’s due any day now and no, I haven’t heard a word. I should’ve checked in, I’ve just been out of my mind lately.”

“Dustin knows we’re in the thick of it,” Steve assured her. “We’re the first ones on the call list when she does go into labor, but I’ll give him a ring this afternoon to say hey.” He yawned, blinking his tired eyes a few times. “Should I take Ollie to the shop with me?”

“No, after Wayne drops him off, I got him,” Robin stole a curious look at Steve, knowing full well that there was something he wasn’t telling her. She was too exhausted in that moment to ask any questions as she turned to head down the hall. “Take a shower, dingus. You look like death warmed over.”

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Wayne always kept his shotgun up high in a locked closet whenever the kid came to stay, but when he returned from dropping Ollie off with his parents, he stood there at the open closet looking around for a minute. He fingered through the flannels and old jackets, skidding the wire hangers along the wooden dowel, until he found the frayed denim edge he was looking for. He yanked back the line of clothes so he could pull the article of clothing out and take a look at it.

It was his original denim with the sleeves cut off, known as a cut, or Kutte, with the Coffin Kings MC insignia on the back. The matching insignia among club members were all “cut” from the same cloth. He held it up and wiped his hand down it a few times, as if to dust it off, looking over the worn and road weary patches, including the one with his nickname “Uncle” over the pocket, because he’d been an honorary uncle to so many, including Steve and Astrid.

He took it over to the mirror on the back wall of his bedroom, set the hanger on the chair and pulled the denim on over his white tee, adjusting the collar, working his shoulders through. Chemo had taken a lot of his size, and so it hung a bit loose, but the shoulder muscles were still there, and he flexed his hands, knowing they could still deftly maneuver a blade or a gun, just like the old days.

Sticking out of the side of the mirror was was a black and white photo that had been bent in half and wrinkled over time. A photo of a much younger Wayne, Astrid’s mother Evelyn with her jet black hair over her shoulder in a braid, and Steve and Eddie as little kids; not much older than Oliver. The boys wanted to be a part of the life so bad, even then, that Evie made them their own vests, complete with Munson and Harrington patches and the Coffin Kings skull on the back. Evie had her hand on Wayne’s chest in the photo, gazing up at him, and Wayne’s arm was around her shoulders, but his eyes were on Steve, his mouth open about to say something. Steve was making a face, his mouth in a grimace to expose two missing front teeth, both of his arms up, flexing to pretend he had muscles. Eddie was more stoic, his expression set without emotion as he stared into the camera, hands in fists at his sides, feet braced wide. Off to the side was young Astrid. She was a few years older than the boys, but still a baby. Wayne remembered she didn’t want to be in the photo, but Steve started acting out to get her to come over, and there she was, face slightly blurred as she tried to move away, but a smile on her face nonetheless.

Wayne met his eyes in the mirror; windows to a soul that was familiar but set in a face he no longer recognized. He thought about his panhead motorcycle collecting dust at the storage unit across town. He thought about how badly he wanted to protect Oliver from the horrors of this world, from the MC life. The boy liked to paint and draw and bake things, and Wayne didn’t understand that either, but he didn’t see the lust for danger in his eyes like he had with Steve and Eddie; Steve, especially. Like he wanted to turn the world on its head and dump it out to see how it worked. Maybe he had the love of a good mom for that, the kind of mom that stuck around. He thought about all of the things this disease had already taken from him, but it wouldn’t take this. He wouldn’t go down without a fight.

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You’d stayed at Eddie’s for the past two nights in a row, and even though he would have you there with him every night if he had his way, you needed to set up your art room and take advantage of one of your afternoon off to work on John’s commission before you went back to the Hammer. You needed to stretch and frame the large canvas first, a meticulous process that took place in the garage, and then put up painters plastic around the art room so you wouldn’t flick paint around on the walls of the rental.

Eddie had brought you to work and picked you up the night before, and he took you home that next day in the tow truck so he could head to a job after. He popped in at the diner on the way to grab two coffee’s to go in tall white, Styrofoam cups. The older, married waitress there named Donna had a crush on both him and Wayne, and always gave him free stuff, for which they tipped handsomely. He came out of the diner holding the two cups up, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

“Things with Donna and I are getting serious, just so you know,” Eddie climbed up into the cab and passed your coffee to you, and then leaned over for a kiss once he was behind the wheel. “Black with two sugars for my lady.”

“Well, I don’t blame her one bit,” you clicked your tongue, leaning over to smell the fresh brew through the mouth opening in the lid and feel the steam on your skin, snuggling down into one of Eddie’s hooded sweatshirts. “Now I need to find an older, married boyfriend, and we’ll be even.”

What was meant to be a joke hit a little different because of the whole John Gregson situation, but Eddie snorted a chuckle as he put his cup in the holder on the dash. “You’re gonna turn me into a homicidal maniac if you’re not careful, sweetheart.”

As he got back on the main road toward your place, a glimmer caught your eye. The guitar pic on the ball chain hanging from the rear view mirror had always been there, but now there was a little, silver worry ring on the chain too, hanging flush with the red pick. It was the worry ring you usually wore on your thumb that you’d thought you had lost weeks ago. You reached up to take a better look and make sure.

“Baby, what is my ring doing here?”

Eddie took a wide turn, sucking his cheek, realizing he was properly caught red handed. “You left it on the nightstand that first time you came over,” he answered.

Your mouth fell open to goad him. “Why didn’t you tell me you found it?”

Eddie’s eyes found the ring in question where it swayed with the movement of he vehicle. “I don’t know, I think I meant to, but then I kinda liked having it in here with me. Whenever I look at it, I think about you. Something stupid like that.”

Your heart rushed, sending waves of heat through your veins. You were staring at his profile now, unable to look away, absolutely, wholly filled to the brim with love for this man.

“You really got it bad for me, don’t cha Munson?”

He offered a small nod and a shrug, tapping his thumb on the steering wheel to the beat of the music.

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It was almost 9am by the time Eddie dropped you off at the duplex. Katie was already at the school, and your orange tabby cat Charlie was in a mood, so you sat on the couch with him for a bit while you finished your coffee. Although Charlie loved affection, he was normally such a chill dude, but that morning he didn’t want to leave your side even after you put his favorite gravy bits breakfast in his food dish. You had been gone for a couple nights in a row, but you always came by during the day to check on him, so it wasn’t as if he’ been abandoned. It was almost as if he was trying to tell you something.

You stroked his ears back and kissed the top of his head. “Tell me, my boy, what’s on your mind?” But he only meowed, nuzzling closer, massaging his claws into your leg.

You ate some granola and dropped your bag on the floor at the end of your bed without turning the light on, heading straight into the bathroom for a much needed shower. You let the water get as hot as you could handle it, noticing the bruises on your hips for the first time from the way Eddie man-handled you during sex. You smiled against the stream of water at the memory.

Charlie was sitting on the sink with his tail curled around his feet when you opened the shower curtain, staring you down. “Close your eyes,” you told the cat as you clutched in the air for the green bath towel that was hooked over the metal dowel.

At least, you thought it was hanging there, but now you were grabbing at air because it was on the floor. You wiped water from your eyes and snapped another look at Charlie before you bent down to pick it up. “Did you do this?”

You were mumbling to yourself, wrapping the towel around your body and stepped out onto the mat. You remembered closing the bathroom door, but now it was open and you imagined that Charlie had pushed it open with his brute strength. You paused to put some moisturizer on your face, and then turned to open the door the rest of the way and face the bed, and that was when you realized there was something terribly wrong.

The bed was made; everything neatly tucked, comforter folded back at an angle, as an invitation. Had it been that way before you went into the shower? You wouldn’t know because you hadn’t turned the light on to look. The pile of clean laundry you’d thrown on the messy bed just the day before were nowhere to be found. You weren’t freaking out yet, not when you knew that Katie went into turbo cleaning fits when she was stressed, and there had been a lot going on with Robin lately. But it wasn’t like her to come into your space while you were gone and mess with your things.

A fear began to bubble inside of you as you clutched the towel tighter around your body, senses heightened as you inched over to check down the hall and in the closet. You were starting to feel so afraid that your hands got cold as shock began to set in preemptively.

With trembling fingers, you took hold of the wood knob and pulled open the top drawer of your dresser, only to jump back, covering your mouth to try and trap the scream that erupted.

Your underwear and socks were neatly folded into color coded rows. You yanked out the drawer under that and the next, only to find the same symmetry of tediously folded clothing. The second drawer fell all the way out and crashed to the carpet. In a frenzy, you dove forward and started scooping all of the clothing out of the drawers, yanking them all to the floor, making them a mess, throwing them around the room, tears running hot down your cheeks. You didn’t stop until the bottom drawer was empty; the drawer that had a few pieces of lingerie and silky pajama sets, all of it had been sorted and folded in the exact same way.

You covered your nose and mouth with your hands and sat down on the bed, taking sharp inhales, adrenaline preparing you for some kind of fight, flight, or fawn: whichever would keep you from eminent danger. There was and ocean in your ears.

You did not do this.

Katie would not do this.

The only person in the world who would ever do this

was your maniacal, neat freak ex fiance Craig.

Now you could hear a footstep creak on the wood planks in the hall just outside your bedroom and from behind you on the bed, Charlie hissed.

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Eddie didn’t have to take the long way back by your street with the old Chrysler on the back of the tow, but he did anyway, just because he liked being in your vicinity. Much like the “old days” when he would ride by your work, back when he thought you wouldn’t give him the time of day.

As he turned onto the street, he could see the front of your duplex on the corner, but his smile faded when he saw the front door was open. Not open just a crack, but open all the way, exposing the interior or the house, and you didn’t have a screen door, so he wouldn’t imagine you’d leave it that way on purpose. What if your cat got loose? He took a sharper turn than he should have to line the truck and pull along the opposite side of the street to park it, doing his best not to crush your neighbors garbage can, all the while keeping his eyes on the entrance, thinking maybe you’d appear and there would be some explanation.

He paused before crossing the street as a guy in a hunter green utility vehicle inched its way to the stop sign. The driver stared Eddie down as he went at a crawl, and Eddie was taken aback to be aggressively eyeballed by a stranger, but he returned the heated glare, bucking his chin. “Fuck’s your problem, man?” Eddied shouted, shrugging his hands in the air. The guy gave an open mouth smile, and made a motion of dragging his fingers across his throat, just before he stomped on the gas and flew through the stop sign, taking a right. Normally, Eddie would’ve taken more notice of the details of the license plate and whatnot, but his attention quickly returned to your open door, taking long strides to the opposite sidewalk.

Eddie looked around before he stepped inside, hand on the hilt of his knife. “Baby? Are you in here?” He asked it softly so it wouldn’t scare you. “It’s Eddie. Your door is wide open.”

His ears followed the sound of things being tossed around, and something heavy hitting the ground with a wooden crack. But then you screamed and his heart tightened as he bolted down the hall.

“Baby?” He entered your bedroom to find all of your dressers drawers open, and two on the ground, clothes scattered everywhere. You jumped when you saw him, scrambling back with a shriek, clutching a towel to the front of your body so that you wouldn’t be exposed.

You were afraid of him, or whoever you thought he was. Cheeks wet with tears, eyes wild like a feral animal caught in a trap. You backed all the way to the wall with your hand out, palm up, before you realized who it was.

“Eddie?” Relief flooded through you, and you dropped the towel, stark naked, to run into his arms, a sob choking in your throat. The feel of his denim and cool of his belt bucket against your skin helped to soothe your nerves, taking a deep inhale of the woodsy spice scent of his aftershave.

Eddie’s mind was reeling as he held you tight; one hand cupped behind your neck and the other at your back rubbing in slow circles. “It’s me, baby. It’s just me.”

You blinked hard, wishing he’d never had to see you like this, wishing you’d never have to tell him about Craig and why you were so afraid of him. You had no proof that your ex had actually been in your house, but also---you had all the proof you needed. This kind of sick fuck head game was right up Craig’s alley. But how had he found you? How would you ever get rid of him now? You didn’t want Eddie to have to get involved with this mess. Sure, Eddie was tough, but Craig was certifiable, and you were well aware that there was nothing he wouldn’t do to keep you in his life.

You buried your face in Eddie’s chest and wrapped your arms as tight as possible, wishing you could both run away and disappear and not have to deal with any of this.

“Talk to me, baby,” Eddie said in a lower octave than normal, his blood boiling. “Who did this to you?”

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That afternoon on Friday, Steve went to meet the woman he’d be doing security for the next day. He gave a low whistle as he rolled up to the main gates, “holy shit,” he mumbled, pinching a smoke between his lips, lighting it while his bike idled and he pushed the buzzer to announce himself. He combed his fingers through his hair as he rode in over a blood stain that was embedded in the cement, shooting a look to the 10 car garage, wondering what kind of beauties were in there and hoping he’d get to drive one.

“Be careful,” Astrid had warned a few nights ago when he stayed at her place. She shuffled her Tarot deck and did a quick reading for him. She tapped her finger on one of the cards. “I don’t like the look of this. I think someone with a dark heart has their evil eye on you.” Without looking up at him, she continued. “I need to do a protection spell before you go.”

“Does that protection spell include you riding my face?” Steve scooted his chair forward, lunging to kiss her temple, but she shrugged him off, trying to concentrate.

Her eyes were sweeping over the cards she’d just pulled for him with a tense bundle of lines between her thick, dark eyebrows. “I’m serious Steve. It’s someone with power who wants to own you, and I think the offer will be very tempting. Think Satan in a Sunday hat.”

She pulled two more cards. Her eyes flicked from Steve to the table several times. “Are you going to some kind of formal event this weekend?”

Steve winced. “Not if I can help it, why?”

This gift that Astrid had was much deeper than deciphering the magic in a deck; she had always been able to see beyond the veil of the known world. It was her gift that kept her lonely, and more often than not, she saw it as a curse.

She sat back in her seat to look the cards over again for an unnerving amount of time. Her intuition was foggy, and she couldn’t put her finger on exactly what would go wrong yet, but there were multiple threats on the horizon and her gut told her it was time to circle the wagons.

Steve’s tongue flicked out to lick the corner of his mouth. “Don’t leave me hangin’ here, darlin’. Do I get kidnapped by a bunch of circus clowns, or what?”

Her eyes locked onto his, letting him know she was serious. “Watch your back this weekend, Stevie.”

He took her hand. “Don’t I always, sweetheart?”

He thought about Astrid’s words as he wound the bike around to park at the front door, exhaling smoke as he flicked the cigarette to the side. He slid his sunglasses up on top of his head, taking in the expanse of the entryway, heavy boots plodding up the steps. At his wrist on a thin leather band was the tiny charm and gemstone Astrid had made him wear after she dowsed him in sage smoke and said a bunch of words he didn’t understand.

Charlene greeted him in nothing but the tiniest of bikinis, a straw sun hat, and a blue and red kimono, and Steve couldn’t help but adjust himself in his jeans at the way her breasts were almost spilling out of the tiny yellow top.

She offered him a drink out by the pool under one of the umbrellas, and Steve accepted a beer.

“I should thank you again for bailing me out,” Steve took a drink, glad that his eyes were hidden behind his sunglasses because he couldn’t’ take them off her heaving rack; the way the sweat trickled down her tan cleavage. A pool boy in tight, cut off jean shorts was cleaning debris from the surface of the crystal clear pool with a net at the end of a long handle.

“Anytime,” Charlene was so very charming when she wanted to be. “A friend of Eddie’s is a friend of mine.”

Steve took a generous gulp and put his forearms on the table. “Yeah? You know my buddy Eddie?”

Charlene flipped her blonde hair off of her shoulder. “Has he never mentioned me? We go way back.”

“Never,” Steve said without hesitation, making Charlene frown. “Not that I remember anyway. But Eddie and I don’t talk as much anymore. We’ve been too fucking busy.”

That seemed to lighten her expression, but the thought did occur to Steve to wonder how Eddie got word to her that he was in jail? He was pretty sure he didn’t even know about what happened until the next day. But, fuck it. Who cares how she found out? He just wanted to get this bodyguard gig over with and get his cash.

They agreed on a price for an evening of Steve’s services, and then Charlene led him inside to guide him up the big, lavish staircase to a guest bedroom where she had a gray and white suit waiting for him. She unzipped the black Armani sleeve it was in and Steve gulped. His mind immediately raced thinking about how much he could pawn it for on Sunday if she let him keep it.

“My cousin is getting married tomorrow,” she perched at the end of the floral bedspread, watching him pick the suit up to admire it. “I guessed at your size, but I can have a tailor meet us here before we leave if it needs fixing.”

Sure, Steve had been a bouncer forever, and had worked as an extra bodyguard a few times for visiting celebrities, but a personal bodyguard and escort for a woman like Charlene? Never. He wasn’t even sure why she needed protection for a wedding; looking down at the suit, he felt more like a gigolo than hired muscle.

“Nah, I’m sure it’s perfect,” and then he eyeballed the wedding photo on the vanity of a much younger Charlene with some other dude. “Where is your husband these days? Why can’t he take you?”

Charlene stretched back so that she was spread out on the bed, the nipple of one breast poking out from under the thin material. Her body was toned and supple and not at all what he expected a woman in her mid 40’s to look like. “My husband leaves town a lot for work. He doesn’t ask what I do, and I don’t ask what he does.”

“Fair enough,” Steve flicked his tongue over his gold tooth, watching the way she arched her back, exposing herself to him, making him palm his erection through his denim.

“For instance,” Charlene reached behind her neck to undo the tie for her bikini top, pulling it down, letting him see the expensive titties in all their glory. “He left yesterday and won’t be home until next week.”

So, of course Steve fucked her. He came between her tits and gave her a pearl necklace made of his cum, liking the way it dripped down her throat. He fucked her ass because she begged him to, using only spit for lube, her face pressed into the mattress, until she came, and then Steve milked a few more bursts of cum onto her backside with a grunt.

He liked getting paid and getting laid at the same time. He felt like he’d been waiting his whole life for a perfect situation like this to fall into his lap.

---------

Eddie paced at the doorway, flexing his hands into fists, “so this Craig fucker came here to what? Terrorize you? Try and get you back? I will put a bullet in his skull.”

You gave Eddie the cliff notes version of your relationship with Craig while you got dressed. How you thought he was fun and charming at first, but once you moved in with him, things got scary. He wouldn’t let you talk to your friends or go anywhere without him. When you first got the courage to leave, he broke into the house you were staying at in the middle of the night and put a knife to your throat. He’d been honorably discharged from the military and used his connections in the police force to bypass the protection order you filed on him. He was emotionally and physically abusive and stalked you for two years before you were able to make it to Hawkins without much more than the clothes on your back, and Eddie was reeling with how bad he wanted to get his hands on this guy. It made him want to start going up and down every street looking for him, which was not totally out of the question.

He had to go outside on the back patio for a smoke and you followed him. You sat down in one of the camp chairs on the concrete slab facing a patch of lawn that was maintained by the owner of the duplex, but Eddie stayed on his feet. You watched the muscles in his jaw flex as he frowned into his cigarette, his thoughts going to dark and dangerous places.

From what you told him about what the guy looked like and the description of his car, that was the dude who had stared Eddie down earlier. He didn’t want to alarm you anymore than you already were by telling you that he saw him, that the fucker had probably been in your house while you were taking a shower. He couldn’t have you staying at the duplex anymore until he could make sure that creep was long gone, and by long gone, he meant he was ready to put him in the dirt. If anyone could find him, Eddie could. He had family of the Kings who worked at police dispatch, and he had eyes all over town, from other tow truck drivers to every member of several MC’s. If this guy thought he was so sneaky, Eddie could do him one better.

Eddie was in a bad mood, cracking his knuckles, thinking about how much he would enjoy hurting this guy, when he heard a sniffle and realized you were crying.

“Hey, hey,” he snubbed the cigarette out in the ashtray Katie had there for the smoking she did when she was buzzed, and got down on his knees in front of you. He wiped a single tear off your cheek with his thumb, holding your jaw with gentle force so you would look at him. “This guy, he’s not gonna get near you again, alright? You’re gonna stay with me until I know you’re safe.” He cupped his hand around your neck and pulled your forehead to his. “Hey, I love you. You trust me when I say I’ll protect you, right?”

“It’s not that,” your eyes went to the Munson’s Garage patch on the front of his light blue work shirt. You kept your forehead pressed to his because you couldn’t look him in the eye. “Craig is dangerous, baby. I mean, he’s really crazy. I don’t want you getting hurt or---”

Eddie sat back on his heels, tilting his head to meet you eyes. “And you don’t think I’m crazy? Baby. I know you get the fluffy side of Eddie but I can do dangerous and crazy with the best of them. Okay? That’s all I’ve ever done. No one is going to fuck with my girl.”

His chocolate eyes searched you, needing to know that you believed you were safe.

You gnawed at your lip, eyes dewy and bloodshot. “I just wish this wasn’t happening,” you dropped your head again, mouth jerking down with impending sobs. “I wish we could run away.”

“Sorry baby but, fuck that,” Eddie stood. “You had to run from this guy once, he’s not gonna get the satisfaction of scaring you off this time. You’ve got me now.”

He squatted again, motioning for you to give him your hand and then he held it tight, brushing your knuckles with his thumb. “And Steve and Robin and Wayne, and the whole Coffin Kings MC, baby. I want you to trust me. This fucker will be sorry he ever stepped foot in Hawkins.”

You slotted your hands on either side of his neck at his jawline, pulling him in, and the salt of your tears mingled in the kiss, your mouth opening wide to take him deeper. Unexpected moans of desperation escaped both of you, hands greedy for purchase on each other’s parts. You made it back inside the house just in time for Eddie to dive his hand down the waistband of your shorts.

“You’re mine,” he breathed, fucking two fingers up inside you, stifling your cry of pleasure with his mouth.

You scrambled to undo his jeans, pushing them down his hips. “I need you so bad, baby. Fuck me.”

There was no time to make it to the bedroom, you broke the kiss only long enough to bend over the kitchen island, shorts down, arching your ass up. Eddie swiped his cock along your glistening core only once before burying it inside of you groaning at the sensation. “Holy fuck, I love you,” Eddie murmured, proceeding to fuck his entire length inside, pulling your slit apart with his thumbs so that he could watch himself enter you.

You bucked back against him, meeting his urgency, biting your lip through hungry whimpers. Eddie shoveled his hand around the front of your throat and pulled you back, choking you with soft pressure while he other hand braced at your hip and he fucked you hard. He preferred to look at you when he was about to cum, but the two of you were frantic, and he was already close. Clinging to the counter, the wet slapping sounds of Eddie stretching you out were about to throw you over the edge. His hand moved from your throat to your mouth, dipping inside for you to suck them.

Eddie’s hips locked onto you as he came, and the sensation made your walls flutter, gripping him in a way that extended his orgasm, cursing, both of you crying out, able to forget about the worries of the world if only for those precious moments as you rode the high.

---------

At a decent chain Motel by a truck stop near the highway, Craig Ludlow paid for a week in advance and sat in the dark puffing a cigar by the window with the curtain tightly closed. An episode of The Twilight Zone was on the TV, and it was the only light but for the golden glow from the bathroom in the hall. On the table next to him was a razor blade on a mirror with white powder residue, a shot glass empty of its Jim Beam, and a handgun.

There had been an ugly landscape painting on the opposite wall, but he took it down to make room for his work. There was a big cork board there now, a place for all of the information he had on you and your little biker friends. Steve’s mugshot was up there, along with one of Eddie from 10 years earlier. Information on Wayne, Katie, the Velvet Hammer, every person or place you’d touched since you’d been to town. Somehow you’d slipped through his fingertips, and oh god, how he had missed you. Being a part of your life and knowing what you were up to was a part of who he was now, and he’d been feeling lost without it.

He planned use his connections to get in with Chief Hopper and make sure your new biker boyfriend had the law down his throat around every turn. Why was it so much to ask for you to let him love you? Your house was a mess, your bed not even made. Nothing in your drawers had been folded. It was obvious that you needed him and missed him and just didn’t know how to ask. You had always been such a prideful, silly goose.

A girl named Shari was working the night shift at the motel when she noticed, not for the first time, how odd the guy who checked into room 11 was. Shari happened to be the old lady of a Coffin Kings member named Jester, and she would tell him all about it, including the make and color of the SUV he drove, over the phone when he called to check up on her that evening. Coincidentally, War Machine had just let everyone know to keep an eye out for a creep of the same description who was stalking his girl. Jester headed over to make sure Shari was okay and waited in the shadows near the truck stop on his chopper, watching the lights from the TV flicker in room 11, keeping an eye on this guy so he could follow if he took off. Keeping him in his crosshairs to see if he should take care of this guy himself before he passed the word on to Eddie.

PART 14

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thank you so much for reading, my loves! Don't forget to tip your favorite stories/writers by commenting and/or reblogging ❤️

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Taglist: @notsobubblybaby @eighty6babyyy @unfocused81 @aysheashea @etherealglimmer @manicmagicmayhem @dream-a-little-nightmare @chaoticgood-munson @ms1oftheboys @emxcast @rhirojo @bexreadstoomuch @micheledawn1975 @lma1986 @falling-solar-system @secretdryrose @kurdtbean @whatwedontdointheshadows @miarosso @seventhlevelofhell @corrodedcoffincumslut @lofaewrites @goldyghoul @chloe-6123 @kelsiegrin @chelebelletx @stylesxmunson @dandelionnfluff @lilpotatobean2 @clincallyonline17 @tlclick73 @eddiemunson95 @sidthedollface2 @hideoutside @truffleshuffle12 @tenthmoon @texasblues@emilyslutface@mmunson86@onegirlmanytales @layla-loves-ed @rhirojo

#Eddie munson #Eddie munson series #I'm on Fire #Eddie Munson smut #biker!Eddie #biker!Steve #biker eddie munson #older!Eddie Munson #Stranger Things #90sau #steve harrington #Eddie Munson fanfic #Spotify

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satoshy12 · 4 months

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Dr. Doof and the Robins

Vanessa walked into her father's Doofenshmirtz Evil Incorporated and saw once again Robin and Robin? in the Room.

Vanessa: "Robin what are you doing here?? I thought you already did your internship with my dad. Or did you and Batman had a fight againople really liked it?"

Even as Vanessa showed her mother Charlene, that her dad knew the JL and he really is a evil Scientist. She kind of just accepted it, turns out she knew about it from the start. Well she should have told her that!

youtube

Dick:" It's now Nightwing by the way, Vanessa. I am showing the new Robin(Jason) where he will intern later."

Vanessa:" Well... He can come too then. Mother is wants to do a Picnic." Dick smiles:" Yes I will come, Dr. Doof made his cheese. And already send 1 cheese wheel to Wonder Woman." +

Heinz Doofenshmirtz the place where the Sidekicks intern, when they have enough of the Adult heroes!! - And he was the place Jason did go after he was brought back to life and was on his Red Hood killing way.

#dc #dcau #dc comics #batman #vanessa doofenshmirtz #heinz doofenshmirtz #charlene doofenshmirtz #Jason Todd #dick Grayson #phineas and ferb #Robin #Nightwing #Intern place of heroes is Heinz Doofenshmirtz #Cheese Wheel #Wonder Woman #Youtube

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zombro-draws · 1 month

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I'm kinda curious about the Making Fiends: True Heir AU

Can you give me some info about it

Sure thing!! I haven't worked on it in a while, but it's pretty much an AU that takes place in the TV show version.

Here's a small synopsis of the AU:

Little over a decade has passed and Vendetta is still determined (albeit, more hesitant and soft due to Charlotte's kindness) to try and kill that annoying blue girl, Charlotte. She looks at her fiendish recipe book and finds one she's never heard of before. It's a recipe that allows her to create limitless fiends. As she attempts to perfect this recipe, the fiend mix violently shakes and sloshes around in the cooking bowl, soon jumping at Vendetta, engulfing her body in sticky, melting fiend mix. Once the process is nearing its completion, the fiend mix creates a giant silky, black cacoon in which the fiend mix finalizes its modifications on Vendetta. Soon, Vendetta emerges from the cacoon, now sporting a long, cascading dress with eyes and teeth, and two deer-like horns. Her new form acts like a symbiote that allows Vendetta to create a limitless amount of fiends with her mass. She needs a new name to call her new form, so she calls herself "Venadow", a play on her old name Vendetta, and the Latin word "Venado" which means deer or stag. With this new form, she intends to destroy Charlotte no matter the cost and destroy anyone who stands in her way. Charlene, minding her own business with Charlotte finds out what she's planning with her new fiends and body as demonic-looking fiends scatter throughout Clamburg and attack them both. Wanting to protect Charlotte, Charlene (as well as other Clamburg inhabitants) shall attempt to stop her and remove the symbiote/parasite from Vendetta and truly restore Clambrug to its former glory.

#Making Fiends: True Heir #Making Fiends AU #making fiends #makingfiends #Zombro Rambles™

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harveyb-wabbit92 · 10 months

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[Hobie and his neighbor R/n accidently get thrown into jail (their just in Holding) after an incident, R/n was going over to Hobie’s flat to yell at him to turn down the music, while they’re arguing a woman comes rushing down the hall almost knocking R/n down.

the woman drops her bag in the process and R/n picks up the bag (Despite Hobie telling her not to touch it.) And calls out to the woman only for a scary amount of drugs & money to fall out of the bag, Next thing they knew, R/n and a facepalming Hobie were surrounded by Bobbies and hauled to jail for suspicion of robbery and drug smuggling.

the police chief believes that they’re innocent, R/n knowing how Hobie acts around the police, made sure he kept his mouth shut while they were questioned. but until they can get the footage from the building crappy cameras the two are stuck there. While they’re moping about it the chief’s wife comes in and while hugging her husband the wife looks at the guard standing in front of Hobie and R/n’s cell with bedroom eyes she blows him a kiss and winks.

Hobie snorts trying stifle a laugh while R/n’s jaw drops at boldness of the wife. Their guard smirks gives the wife a little nod than stands up a bit straighter when the Chief, completely unaware, turns to look at the stunned detainees and assures them they’ll be out soon.

Cut to an hour later Hobie and R/n are watching their guard and the chief’s wife vigorously making out in full view of their cell.]

Chief’s Wife: *breathless* Aron stop!

Guard *aka Aron*: Melissa you’re trembling, what’s wrong?

Melissa: Ian’s getting getting suspicious! You know he’s been asking questions at the gentlemen’s club! We have to get out of here!

*Hobie rolls his eyes as R/n follow them completely enthralled.*

Aron: … And say goodbye to all that money? I don’t think so.

*grabs Melissa’s hands*

Aron: We just need to bide our time.

Melissa: *slaps Aron hands away* How can I trust you Aron? when you haven’t even told Charlene about us yet?!

Aron: *appalled* have a heart Mellissa, the woman’s still in a coma!

*Melissa scoffs and looks away, R/n’s jaw drops, Hobie couldn’t care less.*

R/n, whispering in disbelief: a coma?

{Cue Ian walking in, Aron runs to the break room.}

Ian: Hi Honey! *Melissa smiles innocently at him*

Ian: *dropping the nice act* I just got back from the ambassador’s office, he thinks he going to kill our little real estate deal...

Melissa: We can’t let him do that, what about those pictures of him and that male escort?

Ian: There on their way to the news papers right now... We’re gonna destroy the old bastard!

Melissa: Perfect, Now all we have to worry about is Old man Jenkins... Maybe we should send your friend Eric to pay him a visit?

[They giggle to each other as another officer brings in a man who looked homeless, the man hurries into the cell and stands next to R/n excited.]

Vagabond: What did I miss?

*Hobie shakes his head*

[later, R/n and her new friend are enticed listening to Ian tell Melissa a tragic story of his past, while Hobie stares at cell wall seemingly in his own little world.]

Ian:... And as I pulled her from the wreckage, She was so..*chokes up* d-disfigured, that I didn’t even know... It was my own sister! *breaks down crying*

Melissa: Don’t worry, Dimitri is the finest reconstructive surgeon in the world!

R/n: *whisper* Who’s Dimitri?

Vagabond: *whisper* He’s the head doctor at central Medical, him and Melissa had an affair last year then he-

Ian” SHUT UP IN THERE!

*R/n and the vagabond jump away from the bars startled, as Ian breaks down crying again.*

[later.]

Melissa, to Aron and Ian: We can still pull this off!

Aron: You’ll never get passed the DNA test Melissa, Even you’re lies aren’t going to be enough this time!

Ian: But Aron If you didn’t buy the mining rights, Than who did?

Aron: Don’t either of you see what’s going on? the perpetrator who bought the mining rights, is the same person who stole Ms. Margret’s diamond brooch,

*R/n and the vagabond look at each other slack-jawed, Hobie pretending to nap cocks a brow.*

Aron:...They're also the same person who framed Nathan for Andre's murder that horrid night! And that person’s name is...

Prison Guard: Okay Missy you and Your buddy are free to go.

R/n: Awww...

Hobie: *jumps off the cot outraged*What?!

Prison Guard: Move it.

[R/n complies while dragging a protesting and struggling Hobie behind her.]

Hobie: No! Five more minutes, You can’t just do this to me now! dammit!

R/n: C’mon... Brown, Don’t make this harder than it has to be.

Hobie: It was the Ambassador right? or Thurston?! No no The janitor...Wait no he’s Ian’s amnesic brother! Ekk!

*He gets yanked out the office by one of the guards, while Ian, Melissa and Aron look at him like he's insane.*

#long post #S: malcolm in the middle #spiderverse incorrect quotes #across the spiderverse #hobie brown #platonic x reader #hobie x reader #hobie brown x reader #afab reader #spiderpunk x reader #spiderpunk #spiderman incorrect quotes #random ocs #tw: cheating #tw: drugs mention

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iprefertheterminsane · 2 months

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Take me Home (Where I Belong)

I'm almost finished with my domestic perryshmirtz 5+1, which I'm gonna upload to ao3 soon so here's a tease in the form of the first chapter!

Rating: G

Relationship: Perry the Platypus/Heinz Doofenshmirtz

Tags: Human Perry the Platypus, pre-slash, domesticity, Perry's moved in before they even stopped calling themselves enemies, it's normal to want to kiss the homies sometimes, right?, long suffering Charlene, Perry's got 4 kids actually and that fourth one is Vanessa, haha Perry the Platypus you are dating my father.

Even after having his plans foiled for the day, Heinz doesn’t let him drive home.

“Look at yourself, Perry the Platypus, you’re barely standing on your own two feet.” The scientist points out. He’s right, of course, not that Perry will let him the satisfaction of agreeing with him. It seems to mean less than little; Heinz had already buckled him back into the passenger seat of his truck with the tenacity of a father, and Perry is just barely conscious enough to comply- a bit dumbly, but the taller man does not seem to mind-without much of a fuss. He’s still talking, naturally. Perry has gotten so used to the chatter the droning had begun to take on an ambient sort of feeling, like brown noise. “-practically an accident waiting to happen. Honestly, you’d think Francis would want to try keeping his best agent alive-that agency is gonna do you in better than I would, one day.”

Perry considers giving up a token protest-he had gotten here with the hoverjet on auto-pilot; the routes between the lair and Doofenshmirtz Evil Inc. has long been keyed in as his defaults-but decides otherwise. He really was quite exhausted, surely it would be no bother to let Heinz drive him back to Evil Inc. where he’s parked. Why waste fuel when a cheaper of transport was on offer? The Major has particularly been going on and on lately about turning the office more green and saving energy, no doubt one of their latest efforts to cut costs-so he was doing the agency a favor, really. He trusted that Heinz was a reliable enough driver when they’re neither forced to undergo the serial killing obstacle course that was the Drusselsteinian Driving Test Route.

He would sleep in just until Heinz gets them back home. Decision made, he lets himself rest his eyes.

00..00

“Up, up, up, Perry the Platypus you don’t really expect me to carry you up the stairs do you-,”

“-Ok, here we go, sit here-no, no, don’t lay down just yet you need to take your shoes off Perry the Heathenpuss-,”

“-I am not letting you sleep in the corset of a waistcoat Perry the Platypus, wow is this Kevlar? No wonder you can stand my Titanium punches-Ok uppies, I should probably help you take this tie off too, huh? They could strangle you in your sleep, y’know, nuff said, if nuff was-y’know, me-it’s so weird to see you so biddable, Perry the Platypus-,”

“-ok, last thing Perry the Platypus, yes I promise, just need to help you get under the covers, alright? Now, isn’t that better? Aw, look at how cute you look, Perry the Platypus, like a little angel-,”

“Good night, Perry the Platypus.”

00..00

Perry snorts awake in the penthouse guest room with the covers pulled up to his chin, blinking against the light of the setting sun from behind the half-shaded curtains facing east of Danville.

He isn’t sure what’s woken him, but finds himself unable to go back to sleep. This was probably a good thing-he’s never stayed behind in Doofenshmirtz Evil Inc. for so long without making his excuses before, and the clock shows that he’s nearly late for dinner back at the Flynn-Fletcher’s household. He’ll have no trouble flying home now, he feels perfectly well-rested.

Rising to his feet, he finds himself underdressed. His hat rests on the right-hand nightstand, right next to his sleeping head, and the rest of his clothes-vest, tie and shoes-draped carefully over the chair that looks like it’s been dragged over from the kitchen, positioned right next to the room’s entryway, deliberately left ajar. He shoves the hat back over his head and toes his shoes back on, but blinks deliberately at the rest of his attire. They are, of course, crucial parts of his armour, but what was to fear for stepping out without them? Heinz’s scheme was thwarted for the day, and lest the man was suddenly overcome with another plan while Perry was out, which he sincerely doubts, Heinz would not have reason to attack him out of the blue, and certainly not out of armour. He was obsessed with playing fair, and acting by the book. As far as they are both concerned, they were now both off the clock.

Perry decides to take the clothes and fold them over his arm, but he steps out without putting them on- the vest tends to cinch, which he tolerates, but not without reason-and goes to search for his host to make his goodbyes.

It’s easy enough to find him; Heinz is in the kitchen, naturally, making dinner for himself, with Norm at the dining table carefully slicing vegetables and making prep; something doughy, it seems. Perry wonders if it’s pie-Heinz makes wonderful doonkleberry pie. He rests his hips against the doorjamb, and chatters his teeth to make his presence known, a noise Heinz is well familiar with. It cuts off the man’s mindless chatter, and he beams. Perry can’t help his own answering smile.

"Ah, Perry the Platypus!” He crows. “Just in time for dinner! I don’t suppose you mind setting the table, just need to give me another couple of minutes-,” he cuts himself off as he sees Perry shaking his head, and Perry signs, regretfully, that he has to make himself scarce.

“YOU AREN’T STAYING FOR DINNER?” Norm asks, as despairingly as his cheerful-sounding robotic voice could make it sound. His mouth is down turned.

“Yes, it’s already so late, Perry the Platypus, surely your report could wait a couple of more hours.” Heinz adds, cajoling. “I worry you know, a man has to eat homemade meals every couple of days, else you tend to get sick to the stomach. I don’t know if you cook. I’ve made lemon pie for dessert.” Heinz sing-songs enticingly at the end, and Perry has to admit it’s persuasive. The man really does have a knack for baking.

But he’s already missed out on family dinner yesterday, due to making up for Agent G’s maternity leave, and the Flynn-Fletchers would worry if he missed out on another. He knows for a fact Linda’s made her award-winning meatloaf tonight, and hedgehog cake for supper. He’d hate on missing out on the treat for the world.

He’s halfway through realizing he’s said it out loud, ‘I have homemade meals at home,’ before he freezes, taking in Norm’s and Heinz’s curious blinks, and his hands pause abruptly, letting the sentence trail off awkwardly. He could see from the look on Heinz’s face that he was curious, mouth opening as if to pose a question, but seems to ultimately decide against it. They’ve both scrambled enough of the expected norms of their Villain-to-Spy nemesis-ship today, and crossing the line to figuring out Perry’s home life seems a midge too far, even for them.

Heinz hums, and changes the subject. “Are you really driving home fully dressed like that?”

Perry looks down at himself. ‘What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?’

“Nothing, which is my point. You could just leave them here, you know, they’re all dirty, Norm can run them through with the rest of the day’s laundry, and you can pick them up tomorrow. It’s weird to see you all dressed down, you know, but not bad weird, a good weird, makes me feel like a good host. That’s how you know you’re an adult sometimes, ugh, just listen to me talk about good hosting etiquette, Vanessa never has to worry about that sort of thing you know, even though she should. I hope Charlene’s teaching her.”

Perry’s wandered over to the coffee machine at this point, using context clues to figure out how it works and avoiding the large red button in a transparent case on the right-hand side of it’s case. He taps it, and churrs again.

“Oh, coffee! That’s a good idea, Perry the Platypus, some strong caffeine to help drive you through that traffic, I bought this travel mug for you!” Heinz hands him a short and stout chrome and teal travel mug with a silicone top and an anti-slip base. “I saw that color while scrolling through Etsy while I was looking at bento-boxes for this scheme I’m cooking up next week-oop, forget I said that Perry the Platypus, no spoilers! It reminded me of you! But the travel mugs aren’t related, it was just in the same shop, I love travel mugs, especially these newer novelty ones, you know there were never any novelty items back in Drusselstein, on account of the state largely frowning on any sort of color or patterns-,”

Perry churrs again, twisting the top of his cup back on and pointing out the door. Heinz visibly deflates.

“Oh, right, yes, leaving, of course, Perry the Platypus, let me just let this simmer and walk you to the door-and leave the clothes with Norm, Perry the Platypus, I’ve told you, you can come to fetch them tomorrow.”

Heinz helps hold the mug for him while he gets himself settled back in the hoverjet, and the clock on his dash informs him he should reach the house just in time to reach the Flynn Fletchers begin dinner if he rushed. Heinz leans forward to hand him the travel mug, leaving them close, just close enough that Perry feels the ridiculous urge to-maybe-leave a soft kiss on the other man’s cheek, the way Lawrence does when Linda was about to leave the house for the errand of the day.

Heinz doesn’t seem to notice, mumbling about setting the mug just right into the cupholder behind the handlebar, because it was hot, Perry the Platypus, we wouldn’t want a repeat of the driving test incident, do we? When Perry switches the jet on, Heinz waves. Perry, inexplicably, tips his hat back in return.

It isn’t until he’s 15 minutes away from the house that he realizes he really had left his vest and tie behind at Doofenshmirtz Evil Inc. He hopes Heinz doesn’t plan to do anything inadvisable with them.

For some reason, Perry doesn’t believe that he will.

#perryshmirtz #human perry #fic tease #perry the platypus #heinz doofenshmirtz #phineas and ferb #domesticity #5+1 type fic

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sometimes-online · 28 days

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Just a fun question! :D

if you wanna skip the ramble and just vote thats fine! Tho my own ramble is below! (if you have any headcanons or anything PLEASE let me know)

I really love zombie related stuff and I'm not going to lie I already have a au about this! I am just really curious if anyone else has thought of this.

The way I see it you can vote based on who you think is strongest, will be able to defend themself and take care of themself- or you could vote on your own personal head-canons and situations you think they would all end up in! Like for example: Aubrey is a very strong character who would be capable of protecting herself and some others with her- although she is quick tempered and often will do things that she thinks is right Which isn't necessarily a weakness but it could lead to situations where she maybe takes on more than she could handle or recklessly tries to protect one of her friends and gets hurt instead. or you can not vote for characters based on weaknesses they have or what headcanon you have for them or maybe a characteristic that would make survival harder.. For example: THE Maverick probably has asthma or at the very least is so unfit that he cannot run fast (like at all) or for very long without completely becoming out of breath. Or how Charlie/Charlene doesn't like violence or conflict, and in my opinion I can't see them being able to kill a zombie unless they absolutely had to or it was actively attacking one of their friends (and even then I think they would struggle).

I personally think Angel might survive the longest. I think it would heavily depend on the situation and if others were with him or not at some points- but I can see him being the most likely to adapt to the situation long term. He's quick on his feet and in game is shown to be very observant/learn his enemies and adapt from first encounters/get stronger. He's also a fighter- He would have some means of protecting himself and is small enough to hide. If he sticks in a group he's likely to survive in my opinion. He is very loyal and would probably do anything for the others and the maverick but I can kinda see him ending up okay in the end (I'm probably biased) But what do you all think! If you have headcanons let me know pleasepleaseplease!! If you wanna add the main character's into your headcanons you can do that too! :D Maybe someday I will share some of my Zombie au (its really old tho).

(This is just for fun! So please be nice to one another! I might do a drawing based on the results! )

#omori poll #omori the hooligans #the hooligans omori #omori fandom #omori hooligans #omori #zombie au #zombie apocalypse #zombie apocolypse au

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detectivelokis · 1 year

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WiP Whenever

Tagged by: @kyber-infinitygems @eclecticwildflowers @jacobseed @g0dspeeed @vampireninjabunnies-blog @emotionalcadaver @clicheantagonist @inafieldofdaisies @socially-awkward-skeleton @direwombat @sstewyhosseini over the last week 🖤 Sorry for being bad with the reblogs lately! Especially today when I’ve been more preoccupied with the bad storms hitting us.

Tagging: @nightwingshero @jinfromyarikawa @baldurrs @marivenah @aceghosts @madparadoxum @confidentandgood @derelictheretic @fourlittleseedlings @simonxriley @poisonedtruth @jacobsneed @leviiackrman @euryalex @clonesupport @captastra @xbaebsae @strangefable @nightbloodraelle @gwynbleidd @risingsh0t and anyone else who wants to tag me. Head is like mush right now.

It’s almost close to four in the morning when John makes it back to the ranch from his impromptu meeting with the other heralds. The plan he had formulated just hours earlier had been a success and after hours of patrolling the farm, his chosen, alongside Jacob’s, took a hold of Kellet's for themselves. Blood had been shed, as was to be expected, but after the other day, Mr. Kellet and his farm hands needed a lesson in decorum and this was his way of teaching them.

As he creeps quietly inside his bedroom, he spots Charlene in his bed, sound asleep and curled up in the fetal position; her freckled skin bathing in the moonlight. The patient and respectful part of him tells himself to let her sleep. After many nights of nightmares and restless sleep, she deserves this peaceful slumber.

The other side of him disagrees. And unfortunately for her, John cannot control himself. His desire to tell her everything that happened tonight bit by bit coupled with his need for something more… intimate wins out in the end.

Shedding his clothes, the Baptist hurriedly climbs into bed beside the sleeping woman, his hand reaching out to rest upon the soft exposed skin of her belly. “Are you awake?,” he whispers in her ear; his voice more husky and urgent than he anticipated.

“You’re home,” she mumbles as she backs into him, involuntarily snuggling into his hold.

John perks up at the way she calls his ranch “home”, a smile beginning to tug at his lips. “Did you really think I would leave you here alone all night? Especially after some of my men had a confrontation out at the Kellet farm?”

His words bring her to attention. Rolling onto her side, she gazes up at him, olive eyes bleary. “What happened at the Kellet’s? I thought you took care of that.” She pauses, chewing on her lip. “Legally.”

John finds her charming like this, brunette waves tousled and her normally high-pitched Montanan accent roughened by sleep. He reminds himself to wake her up more often.

“You’re right, I did. But you see, old Mr. Kellet couldn’t keep his mouth shut and I think we both know there’s just some things I cannot abide by.”

Charlie fiddles with the key to his bunker contemplatively, wrapping the silver chain around her fingers. “Did you kill him?,” she asks, harkening back to that night on the stairs when she asked a similar question.

Unlike then, John has a different response. “Yes,” is all he can say, blue eyes scanning her features in an attempt to gauge her reaction.

Her face remains composed as she leans back into the blue silk sheets, her hand that’s caught in his necklace pulling him down with her. “Okay,” she finally replies after what feels like ages. “Thank you for being honest with me. That means something.”

Leaning up, Charlie places a soft and gentle kiss to his lips, her free hand moving to comb through his dark locks. John can’t help but let his tongue coax her mouth open, letting it lazily glide against hers.

She whines at the contact before pulling away to rest her forehead against his, green eyes fluttering shut. “John,” she whispers ever-so-softly.

“Yes, Charlene?”

“Did you wake me up to talk to me or to fuck me?”

John falters for a brief moment. He was hoping his little wake up call would come off as a sweet gesture, one that she might even find charming. With a deep sigh, he absentmindedly brushes back the stray waves falling over her eyes.

“I was ideally aiming for both.”

“That’s what I thought.”

#trying very hard to fall in love with my work again 😭#we’ll see if I follow the trend of never finishing this #anyway #they can be cute #even if she is in denial about them being a legit couple #this is just what worsties do!#they share the same bed every night and talk all night #wip tag

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lilac-gold · 7 months

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mari: What’s up guys? I’m back. sunny: What the- you can’t be here. You’re dead. I literally saw you die. mari: Death is a social construct.

aubrey: So what’s for dinner? sunny, staring at the food he just burnt: Regret.

kim: I am not out of control! I'm a law abiding citizen! vance: Really? Name one law kim: Don't kill people? vance: That's on me. I set the bar too low.

sunny: Bye basil! Bye kel! Bye mari! Bye hero! Bye aubrey! Bye basil! aubrey: You said ‘bye basil’ twice. sunny: I like basil.

sunny: We need more help. Maybe I should call my friends. aubrey: ... Your what? sunny: My friends. kel: Is he saying “friends”? aubrey: I think he'd being sarcastic. basil: No, no, no, this is delirium, he'd cracked from being awake all night. Hey, sunny! All of your friends are in this room. sunny: I have other friends! You asked me to make new friends, I made new friends! It was a task. I complete tasks.

aubrey: Nothing in life is free. mikhael: Love is free! angel: Adventure is free. charlene: Knowledge is free. kim: Everything is free if you take it without paying.

mari: Are we really going to let aubrey keep basil? hero: We kept aubrey.

aubrey: Anyone d- sunny: Depressed? hero: Drained? kel: Dumb? basil: Disliked? aubrey: -done with their work... what is wrong with you people ...

mikhael: You really put aside everything and came all this way for me? How did you even get here so fast?! vance: Several traffic violations. aubrey: Three counts of resisting arrest. angel: Roughly thirteen cans of energy drinks. kim: Also, that’s not our car.

spaceboy: What does 'take out' mean? unbread twins: Food. rococo: Dating slime girls: Murder sweetheart: IT CAN MEAN ALL THREE IF YOU'RE NOT A COWARD.

mikhael: If I die, my funeral is going to be the biggest party ever and you’re all invited angel: If? kim: Great, the only party I’ve ever been invited to and he might not even die.

spaceboy: Come on, I wasn’t that drunk last night. steve: You were flirting with rococo. spaceboy: So what? He's my boyfriend. steve: You asked him if he was single. spaceboy: steve: And then you cried when he said he wasn't.

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mikkokomori · 1 month

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I'm glad you're enjoying the Decaying Garden AU. I'm having a blast writing it!

As a continuation of my last post it begins with Aubrey rounding the corner and dropping something (Gonna say it's a cake because that's a funny image) and exclaiming Sunny. This causes 4 different reactions.

Kim stares mournfully at the fallen cake. Sunny's frozen in spot and shrinking into himself. Vance looks confused for a moment before realizing. "Oh that's your name! We forgot to ask that." Angel, Charlene and Mav are suddenly very nervous because Aubrey looks pissed.

Aubrey then leans over to Kim who's finally looked up from the cakey mess on the floor and harshly asks "what is he doing here?!". Not used to Aubrey being pissed at her she manages to stutter out that he's here for dinner. Which causes Aubrey to begin ranting about how "I told you all about him!", "I thought you understood what he did!" and "Why would you invite him over here after what he did to my sister?!?".

Kim looks over to Sunny who looks petrified but then turns over to Aubrey and asks her if she's sure she has the right guy because he doesn't look or sound like the guy she told her about. This knocks Aubrey out of her rant for a little bit and she then turns towards Sunny and declares that she knows it's Sunny because he hasn't changed at all in the four years since she last saw him.

Kim not wanting the kid(?) to start crying leads Aubrey out of the dining room to try and get some answers out of her. Meanwhile the rest of the gang are confused because Aubrey and Kim never mentioned any of this to them and while they do trust them, they also know basically nothing about the now named Sunny. Vance mentioned how he should probably clean up the cake before his mom murders him and how Aubrey owes him for this and leaves the room shortly after.

This leaves Angel, Charlene and The Maverick alone with Sunny and no real idea on how to make this situation better. Angel and Mav decide to try to show off their 'epic' moves to cheer him up but Sunny's basically non responsive. Charlene decides that she has a better idea and just picks up Sunny and hugs him, he stays frozen for a bit before hugging her back and silently sobbing.

Back in the living room Kim tells Aubrey that she should try to calm down a bit before her mom kicks her out of the house for breaking something. Aubrey too riled up to be able to calm down now just storms out and heads home, ignoring Kim calling out to her.

Kim heads back into the dining room and upon seeing the scene there just gives Charlene a sad smile before telling them that it's probably time for dinner soon and they all should head home. Dinner is an awkward situation because of the emotions lingering in the air and the unresolved questions and soon they're all heading off to bed.

Before they sleep Kim decides to ask Sunny a few questions to try and figure out what's going on. She asks is Sunny's his name and he shyly nods. Kim then asks if he knows what happened to Aubrey's Sister Mari. This question has an instant effect on him and he takes a moment before finally managing to say "Not hers... Mine" and finally passing out from his very busy day. (I imagine Sunny sounds like Mac from Fosters home for imaginary friends.)

Kim moves over to Vance to try and answer a few of his own questions about the situation and tells him that apparently Mari was Aubrey's sister that Sunny killed her four years ago because he was jealous of her. Vance being rightfully confused by this asks how he got away from killing someone. Kim just says that you don't go around arresting 11 year olds do you?

They both decide that they're missing a lot of info and so much of this story doesn't seem to line up because Sunny doesn't look or sound like a 15 year old, and if he is actually that old, what happened to him in that house? They decide that they're gonna get to the bottom of this mystery and finally head to bed.

Back over in White Space Sunny's just crying on Omori's lap while he rubs Sunny's hair and trying what he can to help calm him down. It eventually works and Sunny's tears dry and they end up playing card games all night before Sunny has to finally wake up.

So that's Day 1 lot of Dialogue would fit here if this was a proper fic but now everyone's confused and curious about both their new friend, and the circumstances that lead him to being how he is. They're eager to get to the bottom of it though.

We've also learnt some more 'fun' facts about Sunny in this AU. Like how Sunny's 4 years younger than Mari, not 3. How Aubrey reacts to his reappearance and how this poor kid hasn't had a hug in years.

It's a shorter one this time because like Sunny, I'm very eepy so I leave with you the image of Sunny and Omori playing Go Fish together while Mew sleeps on Sunny's lap.

We love to see OMORI characters being selfish post-incident gang :3 Though with the way Aubrey acts over Sunny, it does remind me of my own experiences... nevertheless, Aubrey........ get your shit together!!!!

Lovely writing in regards to Decaying Garden AU as always anon!! Can't wait to see more of it hehehe......... >:3

#Decaying Garden AU #omori au #omori sunny #omori aubrey #omori spoilers #omori mari #anon asks #omori #miko talks #omori maverick #omori kim #omori charlene

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mywifeleftme · 9 months

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92: Aquariana // Aquariana

Aquariana Aquariana 2013, Drag City (Website)

The Source Family were one of the more successful new religions (read: cults) operating in Southern California during the early 1970s. Founded by Father Yod (pronounced “Yoad”; né Jim Baker), a towering, bearded figure with a few alleged murders (via karate chop!) and bank robberies under his robes, the Source Family operated a popular health food restaurant in L.A. and cut dozens of brainstewing psych rock records that have become holy grails to men who physically resemble late period Jerry Garcia. Yod assigned one of his 13 wives (Isis Aquarian, née Charlene Peters) to document the cult’s journey over the years, resulting in an incredible trove of video recordings, some of which were used to assemble 2012’s The Source Family documentary. The footage, much of it eerie and gauzily beautiful, gives us a good idea of what day-to-day life in the Family was like, from its origins to Yod’s corporeal demise in Hawaii following a hang-gliding accident (!).

youtube

The Source Family were as close to a prototypical cult of the era as you can get: white robes, buffet approach to Eastern and Western spiritual concepts, illiberal attitudes toward “personal possessions,” semi-involuntary polygamy, institutionalized drug use, etc. If you’ve ever listened to recordings of the sermons of Jim Jones or David Berg, Baker’s hep gibberish will sound strikingly familiar, and indeed, the Source Family followed the standard trajectory—from monogamy to a form of free love that mostly allowed the leader to fuck all the hot girls; from soft notions about kindness and peace to dark mutterings about an imminent apocalypse; from vegetarianism to moral loopholes that sanctioned the killing of dangerous outsiders. The Source Family never went the way of the Peoples Temple because, when faced with a mounting crisis (the cult’s disastrous move to Hawaii), Baker decided to disclaim his godhood instead of doubling down on it. No one knows why he eventually told his followers he was only a man, but I have a hunch: he wasn’t a sawed-off little gnome, and he wasn’t crazy. Unlike his murderous peers, Baker didn’t have much to overcompensate for; he was a huge, built guy who didn’t need a cult to get laid, impose his will, or feel important (though he got off on all of the above). In the end, no one died, and so it feels a little less vulturine to nibble at this particular cult’s artistic output than it does, say, the Manson Family’s.

On that note, let’s turn to the music. Record nerds are always on the lookout for cult music because it often goes extremely hard, be it Manson’s acoustic freak folk, Scientology space jazz, or “Veteran of the Psychic Wars.” The albums the Source Family are known for (released under a variety of names like Ya Ho Wha 13 and Father Yod and the Spirit of ’76) are out-there freeform acid jams in which the cult’s more experienced musicians try to work around frontman Yod’s untrained drumming and bellowing—a member of the No-Neck Blues Band pops up on the 2012 documentary to gush about their records, and you can see why acts like NNCK and Jackie O Motherfucker would lose it for this stuff.

youtube

The album we’re looking at today, by contrast, is a solo piano recording from the mid-‘70s by Aquariana, another of Yod’s wives, that went unissued till 2013. Aquariana had a Queen Guinevere-type look, and the liners note that she would frequently spin her own long golden hair into thread to sew and embroider with. A capable pianist with a multi-octave voice, Aquariana’s music could broadly be called folky, but it feels a little more theatrical than that, influenced by show tunes and AM soft rock. Her songs are mostly about love (-ing Father Yod), bearing children (of Father Yod), and the magnificence of Father Yod. It’s midway between devotional music and the type of stuff a medieval bard would be retained to write in praise of an egotistical baron. You can practically see Baker being fed grapes in the producer’s chair while she plays. Though it’s not as overtly weird as Ya Ho Wha 13, there’s still a lot of stuff on Aquariana that no sane producer would’ve allowed, like the way she tunelessly holds and holds and holds her notes on “Oh My Love” and “One Love” until you start to think your record is skipping. That strangeness is why it exerts the particular appeal it does, and it does have a particular downbeat intensity that holds my interest, despite its rudimentary songcraft.

Chicago’s Drag City label was behind the documentary and mid-2010s series of Source Family music reissues. Unlike reissues of, say, Manson-adjacent music, the label was able to work with surviving Family members like Isis Aquarian. This meant of course that they couldn’t dress up the reissues too salaciously (see LIE: The Love & Terror Cult), but Baker’s group already had such a strongly creepy aesthetic that there wasn’t much need to. A designer would be hard-pressed to come up with a more uncanny cover than Aquariana got: the singer at the piano in her ruffled gown with an unreadable expression, the head and shoulders of her husband-father visible behind the instrument, the portrait framed in ornate white fabric. It feels like the work of an outsider trying to underline the cult’s depravity in red pen—yet the composition and cover design were by Yod himself. Make of that what you will.

92/365

#aquariana #the source family #father yod #jim baker #cults #cult music #drag city #'70s music #female singer #vinyl record #music review #freak folk #hang gliding

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power-chords · 1 year

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random mannsgiving question: have you ever written about the art in heat? i've tried googling "why do vincent and justine have a GIANT NAKED MAN in their bedroom", but no dice, lmao. am also v fond of "Painting of a Man with His Face Half Hidden" that justine always purposefully stands in front of, and whatever that not-at-all-symbolic twins/lovers painting is that neil passes at van zant's.

Excuse my incredibly shitty “screenshots.” The HUGE NAKED MAN painting is insane, it’s one of so many details in Mann’s strategic placement of art within the Gustafson home, a structure I am especially fascinated by because it exists specifically to menace Vincent Hanna and to reflect his deepest fears and insecurities back at him.

Is he dying? Is he having an orgasm? It’s difficult to tell, and symbolically, the difference doesn’t actually amount to much, lol. But it is a male figure who looms behind the marital bed, visually duplicating the shadow of the Absent Biological Father, whose existence was just introduced to us with Lauren.

There is of course the painting of the figure next to Justine, whose gaze is cast downward and whose mouth is obscured — he will not look (what should he be looking at?), and he will not speak (to whom, about what?).

My favorite: the kitchen wall! We are being shown that this is Lauren’s art, what is probably a self-portrait, and some pretty bleak foreshadowing: her eyes are red (with rage? From tears?) and her lips are blue, suggesting a cadaver. The rest is hard to see clearly, but there’s pretty obviously a suit, masculine totem of the Profession, hanging there facing the wall, with no one inside it. It's empty. [KILL BILL SIRENS]

WHY ARE THERE DOLL BABIES HANGING FROM THE CEILING? WHAT???

A common motif in Vincent’s associated visuals is black encased in white, or white encased in black: it’s in the house, it’s on his ring, it’s even on his gun (ivory, to mark him as a hunter). He first sees Neil’s face in black and white. He speaks of a dream in which dead bodies accost him with their black eyeballs. There’s too much to pick apart here all at once, but that symbolism of duality and containment, darkness and light that engulfs the other rather than integrating, or that strains to break out, is heavily loaded.

What’s also black and white? A photocopy, usually — at least in 1995! — or a facsimile.

Van Zant also gets some fun black and white decor, and in this case the “bad copy” is a of a colorless jungle, zebra stripes and another naked man (lol) and monochrome plant fronds. The suggestion is of a sterile, inauthentic masculinity-by-proxy, Van Zant thinking he can win a war in the streets against Neil by ordering his cronies to fight it for him, engaging in the kind brute violence he could never endure or enact himself. It is contrasted in the same scene with Neil’s authentic immersion in the gritty, razor-wired jungle of L.A.:

Neil is positioned very frequently next to patches of greenery and nature within the urban matrix, symbolizing this pastoral escapist fantasy for which he yearns, that he has been trying patiently to defer but is tempted by Eady to pursue too fast, too soon. Eady as in Eve, greenery as in a certain garden…

In Van Zant’s house, we see that painting of the Doubles, and there is the suggestion of the Lover but also of the Twin, the Bad Copy. Van Zant is doing under cover of legality and propriety, or the trappings of them, that which Neil and his crew served hard time for by putting their bodies on the line. Breeden’s quote comes to mind: I did hard time for what that motherfucker does every day. When Neil executes Van Zant, he is also raging against that inauthenticity, that fundamental capitalist hypocrisy.

I could go on: the architectural stylings of Chris and Charlene’s house foreshadowing his whole character arc in Heat 2 (no way!), the painting in Eady’s house that is clearly a hand reaching out (ooohhh noooo), that in Mann’s rendition of the iconic Alex Colville painting he makes sure to show us the gun paired with the set of house keys (WOAGH), it just goes on and on. He’s a genius.

#michael mann #heat 1995 #heat (1995)#robert de niro #al pacino #neil mccauley #vincent hanna #justine gustafson #lauren gustafson

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paragonrobits · 1 year

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What are your thoughts on hulk putting a guy in a coma in the first issue of immortal hulk?

Given hulk has a specific hatred of the system later on, and becomes a pseudo champion for the downtrodden, it seems him not on,y ruining this man’s life, but the lives of his family as well was excessively cruel

Tho that may have intentional, devil hulk is not a morally pure character by any means and is meant to be questionable at times, but it clashes with his later actions,

And hell, what about dr mcgowen? She worked in an MGH lab, hurting mutants like glow boy, she wants the active cause but she still participated

But we understand she was driven to these things by poverty, but the gas station robber was as well?

We know dr mcgowen is respected because she stands up,to hulk, but we see the gas station robber apologizing profusely, admitting he’d been done wrong and wanting to do better,

Ultimately it boils down to a few important character details. The first is the thought of "He was a murderer who just could not WAIT to kill someone with that gun despite his protestations to the contrary, kills a little girl for startling him and Banner for being in the wrong place, and the cashier"

When the Devil Hulk lays out everything he did wrong and taunts him with the knowledge of what's going on in that guy's mind, its delivered with the attitude that he is exactly correct. Devil Hulk just KNOWS stuff about people, just as he is a mirror of all the aspects of human nature that Banner desperately doesn't want to admit are part of himself, and always WERE part of himself. The Devil Hulk shows you two things; the you that is seen in the mirror, and the you that you DON'T want to see.

In this case, its that this desperate, poverty-stricken family man with a child and another child on the way also really wanted to kill other people, relished in the power over life and death that having a gun offered him, and given the chance, he didn't hesitate to murder.

He regretted it, sure. He was motivated by money to keep the gangs off him and support his family. He still did it. And the thing about Devil Hulk is that he does not care about extenuating circumstances. If he thinks you deserve to die, than by all that you hold holy he is absolutely going to kill you, regardless of why.

Contrast with Charlene Mcgowan, who is also in a very bad position; she's implied to have been stuck working for supervillains and other morally unspeakable employers because she had no other options and was stuck in a bad place with no alternative. The distinction here is that, contrasted with her mad scientist counterparts in the same organization, she is actively trying to alievate the pain of an undying gamma mutate who is in constant suffering, and the other doctors want to dissect him.

She didn't have to try, but she did. She puts herself at SERIOUS risk trying to make it easier on him, time and again, taking his pain away; Fortean has a guy demoted for simply expressing basic human compassion for someone Fortean terms an enemy, so just imagine what he would do if he realized how extensively she was going out of her way to help a gamma mutate?

So gas station robber dude didn't have to kill anyone, but he wanted to, and did it even when he didn't do anything. He claimed remorse, and might have meant it, but Devil Hulk didn't care, as he seems to value actions over desire. Macgowan, conversely, put herself at serious risk to make Glowboy's pain stop. She didn't have to, but she did.

Robber-guy felt bad for it, but again, that doesn't seem to matter much to Devil Hulk.

There are two further possibilities to consider, here. The first is that er willing to stand up to him and defend herself while Robber Guy immediately started making excuses while begging and pleading led to his different decisions. making excuses or refusing to acknowledge that you had a choice in the matter REALLY sets him off. Standing up to him and making a case for yourself as honestly as possible, conversely, tends to gain... not leniency, but he will at least hear you out.

This leads into the second interpretation to think about; that Devil Hulk during the Hulk In Hell arc is explicitly compared as a Satanic figure, but NOT a Christian one. He better fits the Jewish conception of it less as a specific figure and more as a broad office of a divine prosecutor, demanding humanity account for its innumerable crimes to itself and others. Devil Hulk demands that the people he encounters explain themselves, and give a defense for their crimes. This is by FAR the single most consistent aspect of his character, and the bit that ultimately separates him the most from any other incarnation or depiction of the Hulk.

He is a judge. He has implicitly judged all humanity for its crimes. In the face of blood on your hands, doing it for you family doesn't matter much to him. There was, he might say, always a choice. You might die or something worse happen to you, but then you wouldn't be guilty of what you DID do. It is his purpose to judge all the world, and in his judgements, we see a microcosm of what he may one do to humanity as a whole.

Macgowan accepted what she did was wrong, and didn't make excuses, but tried to help out another person in misery. Bank Robber Guy murdered people on an impulse and when he realized how deep he was, he mostly comes off as scared and upset these things are happening to him, but he doesn't come off as genuinely remorseful to a meaningful degree. Sure, what Devil Hulk did was fucked up, but 'fucked up' is what Devil Hulk IS.

The robber really doesn't seem to WANT to do better, he just doesn't want to suffer for the things he did; he killed three people in cold blood (panic, perhaps, but cold blood all the same, and as Hulk infers, he WANTED to do something like that the whole time, just because he could) so its hard to feel any pity for him.

(I would also note that bad men doing bad things and being excused from the consequences because they had a family would probably sit very poorly with Devil Hulk, given that he exists specifically as a protector alter to an abused child. He might say something along the lines of lots of people having families, and it doesn't make them special or deserve anything more than what they get.)

#replies #immortal hulk #hulk #comics #marvel #dappercat123 #queued

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harveyb-wabbit92 · 2 years

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[Y/n and the Twins are thrown into the Nimbasa PD holding cell after an incident at one of the casinos, where a woman rushed passed them almost knocking Y/n down.

the woman drops her bag in the process and Emmet picks the bag up calling out to the woman, only for a scary amount of alcohol & poker chips to fall out of the bag! Next thing they know, Y/n and the twins are surrounded by security and hauled off to jail for suspicion of robbery.

The police chief believes that they’re innocent, but until they can get the footage from the casino the three are stuck there. While moping about this the chief’s wife comes in and while hugging her husband the wife looks at the guard standing in front of Y/n and the Twins cell.

With bedroom eyes she blows him a kiss and winks, Ingo looks on with a grimace while Y/n and Emmet’s jaws drop at boldness of the wife. Their Guard smirks gives the wife a wink and a nod than stands up a bit straighter when the Chief, whose completely unaware turns to look at the stunned detainees and assures them they’ll be out soon.

Cut to an hour later The roommates are watching their guard and the chief’s wife vigorously making out in full view of their cell.]

Chief’s Wife: *breathless* Aron stop!

Guard *aka Aron*: Melissa your trembling, what’s wrong?

Melissa: Ian’s getting getting suspicious! You know he’s been asking questions at the city hall! We have to get out of here!

*Ingo rolls his eyes, While Emmet and Y/n follow them completely enthralled.*

Aron: … And say goodbye to all that money? I don’t think so.

*grabs Melissa’s hands*

Aron: We just need to bide our time.

Melissa: *slaps Aron hands away* How can I trust you Aron? when you haven’t even told Charlene about us yet?!

Aron: *appalled* have a heart Mellissa, the woman’s still in a coma!

*Melissa scoffs and looks away, Emmet and Y/n jaws drops, Ingo couldn’t care less.*

Y/n: *whispering in disbelief* a coma?

{Ingo lays down on the cell’s bunkbed, Cue Ian walking in, Aron runs to the break room.}

Ian: Hi Honey! *Melissa smiles innocently at him*

Ian: *dropping the nice act* I just got back from the mayor’s office, he thinks he going to kill our little real estate deal...

Melissa: We can’t let him do that, what about those pictures of him and that masseuse?

Ian: There on their way to the news papers right now... We’re gonna destroy the old bastard!

Melissa: Perfect, Now all we have to worry about is Old man Jenkins... Maybe we should send your friend Eric to pay him a visit?

[They giggle to each other as another officer brings a man who hurries into the cell and stands next to Emmet and Y/n excitedly.]

Man: What did I miss? *Ingo shakes his head and pretends to nap*

[later, Y/n, Emmet and their new friend are enticed listening to Ian tell Melissa a tragic story of his past, while Ingo pulls his hat over his face still seemingly ignoring everything.]

Ian:... And as I pulled her from the wreckage, She was so..*chokes up* d-disfigured, that I didn’t even know... It was my own sister! *breaks down crying*

Melissa: Don’t worry, Dimitri is the finest reconstructive surgeon in the Unova!

Emmet: *whisper* Who’s Dimitri?

Man: *whisper* He’s the head doctor at Castalia Medical, him and Melissa had an affair last year then he-

Ian: SHUT UP IN THERE!

*The three jump away from the bars startled, as Ian breaks down crying again.*

[later.]

Melissa:[to Aron and Ian] We can still pull this off!

Aron: You’ll never get passed the DNA test Melissa, Even you’re lies aren’t going to be enough this time!

Ian: But Aron If you didn’t buy the mining rights, Than who did?

Aron: Don’t either of you see what’s going on? the perpetrator who bought the mining rights, is the same person who stole Ms. Margret’s diamond brooch.

[Emmet, Y/n and the man look at each other slack-jawed, Ingo still pretending to nap cocks a brow.]

Aron: They're also the same person who framed Nathan for Andre's murder that horrid night! And that person’s name is...

Prison Guard: Okay Missy you and Your buddies are free to go.

Y/n and Emmet: Awww...

Ingo: *jumps off his bunk outraged* What?!

Prison Guard: Move it.

[Y/n and Emmet comply while dragging a protesting and struggling Ingo behind them.]

Ingo: No! Five more minutes, You can’t just do this to me now! dammit!

Y/n: C’mon Ingo, Don’t make this harder than it has to be.

Emmet: Yeah you’re acting a baby.

Ingo:(ignoring them) It was the mayor right? or Thurston?! No no The janitor...Wait no he’s Ian’s amnesic brother! Ekk!

[Gets yanked out the police station by Emmet, while Ian, Melissa and Aron look at him like he's insane.]

#S: malcolm in the middle #pokemon incorrect quotes #submas #roommate au #subway boss ingo x reader #platonic! Subway boss Emmet #subway boss emmet #subway boss ingo #fem reader #long post

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caw4brandon · 2 years

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Why We Love Bumblebee

Its been a while since I wrote something for Odin’s Wednesday so I thought I should do a long overdue study on a 2018 film that surprised me even till today that I wished people talked about more. Travis Knight’s revamp version of < Bumblebee >

There are some interesting themes found in this simple and yet promising movie so, let’s talk about them and break them down.

- What Are You? -

< Bumbebee > is a simple film that follows our main character; B-127. The highly reliable short stack, who takes risk in the face of danger as the Autobot’s messenger and scout. He was tasked to land on earth, which caused a scene with a top secret base of operations known as Sector 7. After a valiant battle and after suffering from multiple injuries, B-127 shuts down. Taking the form of a yellow Volkswagen Beetle.

Sometime later, we then follow Charlene "Charlie" Watson. Who recently bargained and was gifted an old car by the local garage owner. Unbeknownst to her. Charlie awakened B-127 (later named, Buumblebee) and thus began a wholesome friendship between a human girl and her new found robot buddy. Iron Giant Style.

Under the backdrop of this friendship, the war between the freedom fighters; The Autobots and the evil Decepticons rages on after the Fall of Cybertron. While Bumblebee works to restore his health, Two Decepticons; Shatter and Dropkick catches on. Traveling to earth to hunt down their enemy.

Posing as “Peacekeepers” with Sector 7 to find the rogue and take him out. While the movie is titled of him, it isn’t technically all about Bumblebee.

- DJ Bumble In The House! -

The movie mainly follows Charlie (Hailee Steinfeld) During her appearance, we know several things about her. She lives a mundane life, she’s acts as the token “emo and invisible teen” and she is “not like the other girls” Despite this, there seems to be a main cog for why she acts as such. Charlie was mourning after the loss of her beloved father who died tragically and suddenly.

Frustrated with how everyone around her seems to have moved on, bullied by the other popular teens and alone. Charlie longs to leave her town and family. To be free from all the mementos of her father and starting afresh. With the main goal of fixing an old broken Corvette as her getaway. The day before her 18th birthday, Charlie visits her local old garage for parts that kickstarted the actual story.

Like most stories about the fragile human meeting a powerful but broken creature. There is the signature scene where Charlie establishes trust to Bumblebee that is similar to the key scenes of the movie < How To Train Your Dragon > The story even reaches its tipping point where Bumblebee gets captured by Sector 7.

He even had a quick moment of becoming the killing machine that people feared him to be and it concludes with Charlie attempting the impossible and begin her actual healing process with the exclusion of Charlie and Bumblebee being together but decided to separate for their own respective purpose. The movie even has potential ship material between Charlie and the neighbor; Memo. Ending with a “We’re not there yet”

- He’s More Human Than You! -

Upon further inspection. There is a lot of iconography and symbolism to this movie. Starting with its main theme of loss and healing. The movie allows the grief to linger enough to show that while Bumblebee did come into Charlie’s life as a subject to distract her. The loss is still a reality that she has to confront. She floats through life as it is, puts up walls and lashes out when people tries to reach out to her, including Memo.

Throughout the movie, we see her open up slowly. Starting with her befriending Memo by accident that eventually lead to her snapping and opening up to him about what happened. While it does sound like its me pointing out the instantly recognizable moments from other films of the same sort, there is a lot more at play here.

Broken things no matter how desperate you are to fix them is still broken.

Bumblebee, still broken with no voice. Charlie, still mourning after the loss of her father. The military protagonist; Colonel Jack Burns, still scared after his first encounter. But through them, we get to see what healing is.

It showcase the characters taking slow steps and finding a new angle with the current situation. While still broken, Bumblebee eventually learned how to use the radio to communicate, Charlie learned how open up to her family again and the Colonel was finally able to move past his anger to help our main hero at the end. (bit of stretch but still) As the final plot device, Charlie was able to finally fix the broken Corvette while Bumblebee was able to reunite with his people and rebuild.

- Because of You, We have Hope -

Perhaps as an entirety, the whole movie is about taking the broken parts of the franchise, embracing and fixing them for a potential future. If you can recall to the year 2007, film director; Michael Bay took on the challenge to bring the beloved < Transformers > into the golden screens.

While the general belief is that the first movie is brilliantly good. The franchise seemed to have taken a nosedive into mediocrity. Using special effects that is incomprehensible with soulless plots and lazy attempts to bring in loveable characters from the series. (Perhaps the most horendious one was < Age of Extinction > with their insulting attempt on Grimlock)

< Bumbebee > on the other hand, follows a very basic and yet effective flow of events that tells the story it needs to tell. The story of a young hero becoming the hero we know them to be. Though its a movie with not a lot of fight scenes. The several that we see is masterfully done with cohesive and vibrant colors to not only Bee himself but also for the heroes and enemies.

I mean. JUST, LOOK AT THIS!

This very little moment alone is absolutely perfect and it clearly shows that Travis Knight loves the franchise so much that he wants to give it the justice it deserves! The whole film is basically a large jab against Michael Bay’s sense for realism in his versions. Making the characters to be clear but still realistic.

While it may look a little cartoonish. The whole film is incredibly great with all the round, better storytelling and visuals that the audience can understand. With the news that there may be a second movie. I’m staying hopeful for what is to come for Travis Knight’s second film.

This is why we love < Bumblebee > Its a love letter to the adults of the original series and its a film that will fan the flames for the children to come to a fantastic franchise that teaches the value of seeing beyond something that is alien to us. It elevates compassion, bravery and most importantly, it teaches you how to sting like Bumblebee~