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#(THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS BECAUSE WE BOTH ENABLE EACH OTHER.
universestreasures · 2 years
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Laughs in keikaku :3
@masterofaster​ <3
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heartpascal · 1 year
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is it freedom?
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▹— spiderverse (future) found family x platonic!reader
▹— summary: after losing everything, you struggle to accept the one thing you needed all along.
▹— a/n: ok i have been enabled by exactly two (2!) people. (thank you both) SO dare i start a spiderverse series??? IF YALL WANT MORE OF THIS… I WILL DO IT. this is really just a set up thing idk but i feel like arachnid has potential for further parts and ACTUAL found family!! also haven’t tagged people on my general taglist bc idk if you guys want to be tagged in ALL works or just all pedro works :(
▹— warnings: slight across the spiderverse spoilers, not really found family yet, injuries, blood, treating own injuries, stitches, fighting (canon-typical violence yall), dead parents (mentioned a LOT), a whole lot of angst (it’s a spider-person so what do we expect), reader has a whole lot of bad thoughts, loneliness, isolation
masterlist PART TWO
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Had you known what this, this thing, would lead to, you would have never started it. Not that you had done so purposely, at least to begin with, more so happening as an event of pure chance. You were in the right place at the right time, and since then, you had been addicted.
But if you could go back, look at yourself just a year younger than you are now, tell that kid what would come if you went through with saving a life for the first time, you wondered. It was a question that scratched deep in your brain, sending you off balance the more you thought about it; would you have still done it? Would you have saved that person’s life, knowing it would lead to your own falling apart?
You would like to think yes. In fact, you know that back then, when your eyes were bright at the prospect of helping people, when you still marvelled at the world like it was good, you would have been certain that it would be worth it. Why should that person die, just to save you? It’s a harrowing realisation. A conclusion that makes your fingers tremble, your voice shake. Now, you’re not sure you would do it. You don’t think you could bear to face that decision knowing what you know of the world around you now.
It’s something cruel, really, that the spider that bit you gave you these powers, and nothing to go back and fix your mistakes. Your perceived victories. Your losses.
But the worst has already happened, and the only one left to die is you, so you carry on. You don the suit every day, you sew up your own injuries on the top floor of the abandoned offices that you’ve claimed as your own. Each day, you wake when you choose, you sleep when you want to, and you work yourself down to your very bones with nobody to object.
The hollow feeling in your gut is a pain you have no choice to ignore, to smother with assurances that this is freedom. What else could it be? You do whatever you so please, you spend your time swinging through the streets of New York rather than doing schoolwork at home, you eat all the junk you could ever have wanted.
It’s freedom. It has to be.
You tell yourself that you don’t miss the home part of having to do schoolwork, promise your heart that you don’t miss home-cooked meals as opposed to greasy food that leaves you unsatisfied. You swear that you like having nobody to tell you what to do. There’s no other choice, after all.
And each day, when you spend a little bit longer out on the streets, getting yourself into needless fights that the police could certainly handle, you tell yourself it’s because you’re protecting the city. You convince yourself that it’s not because of having an unending rage to satiate, or a permanent feeling of breathlessness when you leave police to handle anything, as if you could relive the moment your father, the captain, was left to handle something he couldn’t.
So, you’re almost relieved by the appearance of something… strange. Something dangerous. This is what you live for — this is your job.
You crouch against the wall, fingers splayed and suit itching where you had crudely sewn it back together across your ribs at an almost too-close call. You hold your breath, you watch. The lenses over your eyes shield your sensitive sight from the harshest colours of this new opponent, who looks almost… unreal. Too different to be a part of reality. He yells out, seemingly glitching? A distorted scream of what is apparently pain, accompanied by flashes of colour that are unfamiliar to you.
“Well, that doesn’t look good.” You comment, eyebrows raised beneath your mask, and the strange looking guy snaps his head towards you, long hair slapping across the goggles over his eyes. He bares his teeth at you, something almost resembling a grin marring his face.
“Spider-man!” He yells triumphantly, cackling as he wipes the hair away from his face, tendrils unfurling from behind his back and lifting him into the air.
“Not quite!” You call back, dodging below the metallic arm that shoots towards where your head was, crumbling through the wall. You try to think back to the jokes you used to tell to rile up whoever you were facing, but find your mind is blank. Instead, all you can think of is questions. “Where the hell did you come from, anyway?”
The man follows you as you spring from wall to wall, heading towards the center of the building where it tunnels up for about forty floors, balconies overlooking the fountain below. “A new spider, eh? Well I’ll take you down just as easily as I have the other!” He tells you, though you’re immediately suspicious of his statement. You’re the only Spider-related hero around, and even if you weren’t, you doubt this guy could squash a worm, let alone you.
“Sure thing, man.” You say, sighing, already exhausted by the repetitiveness that comes with every fight. Your opponents always say they’ll beat you, kill you, squish you, take you down, and yet you always get back up at the end of the fight, and they always remain defeated. When you started doing this, you never would have thought you’d get so tired from winning all the time.
And yet here you are, slipping further and further up the building with the octopus-looking guy chasing after you, metal arms crumbling walls and bannisters on his way up. He falters once more, another one of those glitch-like movements sending him down a few floors, but he’s quick to recover. Of course, it wouldn’t be that easy.
You crouch down on one balcony, somewhere around the thirty mark floor-wise, peering down at the guy as he shakes lingering pain from his body. He charges upwards, aiming to reach you quickly with an almost predatory smirk on his face. Before he can even get close to you, however, you’re back on the move, setting a trap for him that he doesn’t even seem to notice.
It’s only when a group of late workers emerge on what you’re pretty sure is the twenty-first floor that you become more anxious about this fight. You don’t like when civilians are involved.
There’s about a dozen of them crowding the balcony, looking up to where you’re facing off with octopus-man above, some having begun to descend the stairs to the next floor before catching on to your presence. You try not to draw attention to them, but their pointing and whispering sets the Spidey-sense off, ringing loudly between your ears, almost deafening in its intensity. Maybe you underestimated this guy. The flash of a camera sends the last hope of him not noticing down the drain, and he grins at you as he switches targets, climbing down towards them with some semblance of caution.
You’re much faster than he is, dropping down and using a web to catch yourself rather than having to climb. It’s hard to stop yourself from yelling at them, cursing them out for being so damn foolish — who in their right mind would stick around a very dangerous fight to take pictures?
Instead, you choose to yell, “Get out! Go, go, go.” And usher them down the stairs, but it’s not difficult to realise that this guy is going to get to them before they manage to descend to the bottom. You shouldn’t be surprised, really. Nothing is ever as simple as it could be, not for you.
The split second decision to drop down and form a net-like web low enough to catch the workers worked out for you in the end, as you swung back up and pushed the workers off of the balcony and stairway just as the octopus man was reaching them. He cursed at you, refocusing his efforts on you as you vaguely noted the workers clambering down after their screaming had stopped. Honestly — did people really have so little faith in you? Had you ever sent anybody to their death before?
“You are just as pesky of an insect as Spider-man!” He growled out, teeth gritted, and came after you with renewed force. He kind of reminded you of that doctor you faced not long after getting your powers, but this guy looked completely different. The doctor you faced — aptly named Doc Ock — had turned himself into some form of a mutant, he had reinforced tentacles which sprouted from his back. Was this guy some kind of copy cat? Maybe he was just delusional.
“I don’t know who Spider-man is, man!” You shout to him as you ascend the building again, trying to figure out the best way to take this guy down. His tentacles seem electronic, so surely you could disable whatever machinery resides on his back?
“That’d be me.” A voice came from above you, two floors ahead of your position. Your head snapped towards it, seeing a man in a blue and red suit, framed by a burst of orange behind him. He didn’t linger up there long, instead moving to leap down to the guy who had turned his attention to the new guy. The closer you looked at this new guy, the more similarities you saw to yourself — his webs looked remarkably similar to your own, the pattern that went across his suit matched your own, even the wide white lenses that shielded your eyes on your mask. Who the hell was this guy?
The octopus man grinned widely, shaking greasy hair from his face. “Ah, finally! The real Spider-man. Got yourself a new protégé, I see.” He drawled, dodging this new guy’s hit straight off of the bat. You tried not to get annoyed at being referred to as a protégé, considering as far as you were aware, you were the only Spider-person around. Where was this guy when you were holding a bridge full of civilians together? Where was he when you took down villain after villain, never once failing to get the guy? No — you were the real Spider-man, if anyone.
“I don’t know who you are, man, but I’m handling this just fine.” You call to the guy, swinging down to rejoin the fight, webbing the villain’s metal tentacles to the wall behind him, before dropping down to kick him towards the wall.
“Oh, so you know how to send this guy back to his own dimension?” Spider-man asks you, eyebrows raised beneath his mask, and as if on cue, the guy glitches once more, ripping his arms away from the wall and just about catching himself on a balcony below before he could fall into your net.
You gape at the new guy, glancing back up to where the burst of orange remains opened, and is that a portal? Is this Spider-man from another dimension? Is that why you’ve never heard of him before? God, if your mother was alive, she’d kill to find out about this. Inter-dimensional travel was something she had spent her life researching. If you didn’t remain so bitter toward her even after her death, you might’ve been sad she wasn’t alive to see this.
But you were bitter, and it made the experience all the worse.
Because you’re pretty sure that that bitterness takes the place of grief within you. It’s hard to understand why you crave to feel that pain, that grief, as opposed to the aching resentment that floods you with the thought of her. It’s such a sharp contrast to thinking of your father, your kind father, the man who threw himself into a battle he couldn’t have hoped to survive, just on the off chance he could save somebody. You hope you take after him.
“Wait— you’re from another dimension?” You question anyway, eyes flickering between the battle and the looming portal above. In fact, you’re so distracted by finding out about that tidbit of information that you miss octopus man aim a tentacle for you, and it snatches you around the ankle. “Oh, you gotta be kidding me—!”
The man waves you around like some kind of rag doll, and you try not to be too bitter about being caught off guard. You should probably learn that getting caught up in your little pity party always ends up badly, always distracts you from that renowned Spidey-sense. You formulate a plan in your mind when the drip of blood around your ankle draws your attention back to the battle at hand.
You web the wall opposite and hold on tight, pausing the movements and letting the dizziness that had come over you fade away. The man growls out in annoyance, and gets closer to cut the webs with another tentacle, which is exactly what you planned for. The tension from the webs launches you towards him when you let go, and in his surprise, the metal tentacle releases you. You wrap around him, and start webbing up the machinery embedded in his back as Spider-man distracts most of the tentacles, keeping them from pulling you off.
His tentacles start faltering, clearly not obeying his movements, and you wrap them up where they emerge from his back, continuing along until the movement is so limited that he has to use them all to clutch onto the nearest balcony.
You crawl up the tentacles in the very same spidery manner that you’re known for, and crouch, watching the octopus man struggle as Spider-man observes from the balcony opposite. “You wanna finish this one off, Spider-man?” You ask, unable to hide any bitterness from your tone at his mostly unhelpful actions throughout the battle.
“Hey, not bad!” He praises, and it annoys you. You’re good at what you do — for the most part. You manage without help constantly, and that’s the way you prefer it. “You’d make a good addition to the Spider Society!”
Now, you don’t know what the Spider Society is. But honestly? You don’t care. You don’t need help, and you prefer working alone, and you certainly don’t like feeling patronised.
“Whatever, man. Just send him back to whatever dimension he came from.” You tell the guy, and drop down as you hear sirens outside, landing on your injured ankle and just about stopping yourself from cursing. Through all the adrenaline and fighting, you’d forgotten about the way the metal had ripped into your skin, drawn blood. It’s just be another place you’d have to sew up your suit with itchy, uneven stitching. “Officers,” You greet as they open the doors, guns drawn, radios murmuring. “All taken care of. Civilians okay?”
“Shaken up, but fine.” The leading police officer says, immediately relaxing and holstering his weapon. You wish it reassured you that the police trusted you now, but it didn’t. Nonetheless, the other officers follow suit. “Thank you, Arachnid.”
The name your world has bestowed upon you has yet to grow on you, but you nod your head regardless, and salute them as you make your way out, swinging across the city, trying to put the existence of the multiverse and inter-dimensional travel out of your mind. Surprisingly, it’s pretty easy when you have a busted ankle to fix up.
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You’re halfway through stitching up your suit, having already sewn your skin back together with as much skill as you possessed in the matter — which was, not much. But the bleeding has stopped, and your stupidly slow healing will take care of it within a few days. You know that the itchy stitches on your suit will just irritate the injury, and though you wouldn’t lose anything if your identity was revealed, it doesn’t feel right to go out into the city with any part of you on show.
No, you wear the suit for a reason. You keep every part of yourself covered because nobody can know it’s you underneath the suit. Not because you had anything to lose, no, you had already lost everything. It was because then you could never make a mistake, you would have to be absolutely perfect, flawless, to make up for the fact that it was you underneath the layer.
So, you settle with a sewn suit that will itch and make the stitches on your ankle sting.
However, when there’s a burst of orange across the room, you have no choice but to forgo the suit, to simply drop the needle and thread and hover your fingers over your web shooters. You wait, nervously, for some other villain to appear. You’re not sure if Spider-man appearing would be better or worse.
But when a foot steps through the portal, it’s nobody familiar. In fact, it’s a suit you have never seen before, made up of dark blues and bright reds, sharp edges and long claws. It’s… unnerving, and considering the silence coming from the person wearing it, you’re not entirely certain of what they’re here for.
A moment later and another person steps through, a woman, with bright yellow lenses across her eyes that filter her irises into an amber. She steps forward, standing beside the person who had stepped through first, and if she hadn’t showed up, you would’ve been tempted to attack. With that being said, you remain on edge, but there’s something… comforting about her presence. Like her presence softens the man’s jagged edges.
She says your name, and then adds, “Arachnid.”
You furrow your brows and curse as you glance back at the suit so crudely laid out on the floor. Still, it doesn’t explain how she knows your name. Was it an inter-dimensional thing?
“Spider-man told us about your work in capturing Doc Ock earlier.” She tells you, as if that explains their presence. You did what you were supposed to do, which was take out the bad guys. “We’re here to offer you a place in the Spider Society.”
You can’t help but wonder if this is some kind of good cop, bad cop thing. She presents an offer which doesn’t sound too bad, and then her sharp-edged companion presents all the drawbacks and the catches. They don’t seem like the type to take no for an answer, either way. You still don’t even know what this Spider Society was! Was it some kind of multi-dimensional cult?
“I already told Spider-man that I wasn’t interested in joining whatever cult you’ve got going on.” You practically hiss, though you didn’t exactly tell him in such blatant words. You were more dismissive earlier, so you’d have to be clear now.
“It’s not a cult,” The man speaks, voice harsh and sharp much like the blades that branch from his forearms. “We work to protect the multiverse from anomalies that threaten to destroy it.”
The woman glances at him in a way that you translate as being vaguely annoyed, like he wasn’t approaching you in the way she had wanted him to. “He means to say that it’s a big job, and we need all the help we can get.” She says, softer, but only in comparison to the man’s harshness. “Listen, kid, you’re good at what you do. We need that kind of talent.”
“You’ll have to find it somewhere else.” You say firmly, because why would you want to leave your universe? This was a lot to think about when you had only learned of the multiverse existing mere hours ago. Regardless, you weren’t about to abandon your city just to go across the multiverse to help other heroes who couldn’t keep a leash on their own villains.
The two of them shared a look, a mere glance, before the woman heaved a sigh. “Look,” She sighed, heavily, like whatever she was about to say was something she didn’t want to be voicing. “Before you make your choice, you should know, your Green Goblin is currently terrorising another universe.”
You couldn’t work out if this was some kind of recruitment tactic, or something. That just wasn’t possible. You had put Gwen Stacy in the highest security prison after all antidotes to her goblin-tech failed. She was stuck in there — permanently. There was no way she had gotten out, let alone gotten out to another universe.
…Right?
It’s hard not to think of the memories at the mention of her—Green Goblin, not Gwen Stacy. Never Gwen Stacy. You wonder if this is where your fear comes from, the terrifying fact that you are remembered only for your mistakes. Because before she was the Green Goblin, she was Gwen. She was everything to you. She was the sun you orbited, the stars that charted your path. And it hurts, it hurts that you can only remember the blood and the dust and the destruction when you think of her.
People aren’t born as monsters, are they?
Like the spider that bit you, that invertebrate that so many fear, it was born the way it was. It was born with those fang-lined maws, with those eight legs and dozens of eyes. It was made into the monster it became, artificially crafted to deliver a venom that changed you forever. But it wasn’t born that way.
Surely, Gwen wasn’t either. She was kind. You remember that about her. You can remember her soft hands that used to hold your own, the loud laughter that always ended in a snort when she laughed at her own jokes, the gentle eyes that stared into your very soul. But those eyes are the very same ones that let her see through your mask, let her see exactly where to hit you to make it hurt. Was that what she was born as? Or is that what she was made into? A killer. A monster.
“Show me.” You say, because what else could you possibly respond? If what they’re saying is true, if the Green Goblin is loose once more, then people will die.
You can’t let her get fresh blood on her hands. Not when somewhere, deep inside your chest, so far down it’s almost unreachable, you have hope for her. You have an innate desire to look for the best in her, even when the Gwen you knew was the first life that the Green Goblin took.
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If there’s one thing you’ve taken from being Arachnid, it’s to expect the unexpected. And you go through the orange portal after Jessica Drew and Miguel O’Hara with that exact mindset about you, staring at where an orange watch-like device is wrapped around your wrist.
It’s in your nature to be suspicious, and these people weren’t an exception to that.
In fact, their presence only heightened that behaviour. After all, what were you to expect from two Spider people, who supposedly came to you for your help?
You weren’t blind, you saw the aged lines of their faces the moment you got close enough to see them clearly, away from the dim lighting of the building. They were adults, adults who had clearly been doing this type of thing a lot longer than you had. You, who was barely bordering on adult, who had fought enough battles already to last a lifetime — so why would they need you?
It didn’t feel right.
And when this Miguel person summoned Lyla the moment you walked through the portal, it felt all the more wrong. She was a hologram of some kind, much higher tech than the kind of thing you saw on your earth. But then again, you had never really been in high tech labs back in your earth. Still, it unsettled you. “Lyla, get me the location of Green Goblin, Earth 5011.” He commanded, and they argued in hushed voices for a moment, before a wider hologram appeared, stamped at Earth 3899.
“How did she get to another universe?” You ask, then, because it doesn’t make sense, and you’re shaking underneath the thin material of your suit. You’re hyper aware of each drag of stitching against the wound on your leg, each patch of fabric you had sewn on in hopes of the suit lasting you just a little longer, because you didn’t have the resource to produce a new one.
“It’s an anomaly.” Jessica Drew tells you, her tone softer than you’d heard it, as if she was attempting to reassure you in some way.
It didn’t help. But how could it? The last time you had faced Gwen Stacy—Green Goblin— you had lost so much. It had been the beginning of the end of everything good in your life. The explosion she had caused at your mother’s laboratory was the very same one that killed her, the very same explosion that sent you and your dad miles apart all while living in the same home. And still, you found a way to hope that there was something to salvage within Gwen.
But not only had you lost your mother, and not long after — your father, you had also lost your closest friend. The one person you had confided in, who knew you from your surface to the deepest level, and she had used that against you the moment the Goblin had taken over.
It had taken everything in you to beat her, back then.
And that was on home turf! How did these people expect you to do that a second time, in a completely unfamiliar place?
“Specifics aren’t important right now. Jessica, you take Arachnid. Lyla, send another one of the teams.” Miguel instructed, dismissing your questions right off the bat. It was frustrating. They were leaving you completely in the dark, and sending you to fight the worst enemy you had ever faced, and they were sending you alongside others like you from different universes. It was like asking you to bare your soul in front of them, to reveal your secrets, your deepest regrets, everything that you wanted to stay buried.
You knew Green Goblin. You knew that’s exactly what she would do. She would undermine you, she would lay your life out in front of you like tiles on a scrabble board. In the end, none of it amounted to much.
Jessica Drew made her way out, glancing at you and nodding for you to follow along. Your moment of hesitation had drawn Miguel’s attention, and he called out to you after a moment of hesitation. “We’ve all faced one like it, kid. It’s easier with others.” He told you, though he held a pained expression on his face all the while. Instead of admitting to the way he had hit the nail right on the head, you simply nodded and followed after Spider-woman.
It was a whirlwind from there.
Meeting up with others. Travelling the length of the so-called Lobby to wherever it was that Jessica was taking you. When you finally arrived, she offered an empty glass box with a mannequin inside, bare. She gestured towards it like it should’ve been self explanatory, but soon realised she’d have to spell it out for you.
You shouldn’t have been so upset by the offer of a new suit.
But you were.
This suit was your life. You had nothing outside of it, not anymore. You couldn’t just throw it away, as if it meant nothing, as if every rip and patch and wonky stitch didn’t mean anything. These were proof that what you were doing was real, that it was worth something. Each stitch proved you had value. You weren’t about to throw all of that away, especially for whatever overly technical suit these people would provide.
You had everything you needed.
And so Jessica led you to the next destination: Earth 3899.
The moment you stepped through the portal, it was like you were hit with a wave of familiarity. And not in a positive, slightly nostalgic way, no— this was chaos. This was the state your world had been in when Green Goblin ran riot, unchecked. She had torn apart buildings, blown up parks, she had set New York City aflame. And she was doing exactly the same here.
It was more contained here than it had been on your earth, and you had to assume that was thanks to the Spider-man already on site, coordinating police, ambulance and fire responses to douse the fires as quickly as she set them. If only the police in your city had trusted you so much, back then.
“Where is she?” You ask, the moment you get close enough to speak to the resident Spider-man of the universe. He looks at you as if you’re familiar, but doesn’t comment, instead just pointing a finger toward a skyscraper just a short way ahead. You’re gone the moment he tells you where to go.
She had the uncanny ability to stay quiet. It had freaked you own back on your own earth, but it was even more terrifying here, where things were ever so slightly different.
“Arachnid.” Gwen’s voice called, and for a moment, you could forget. You could forget every horrible thing the Goblin had done, and you could remember your friend, your Gwen, who had called out to Arachnid more than once without knowing it was you behind the mask. Whether it was for a story or to provide information on your most recent opponent, the voice calling your alias was familiar. But then there was that crackle of laughter, an unnatural gurgle in the way it left her throat, and you turned to see the green-tinged pallor of her skin. “I was so hoping you’d show up.”
You didn’t know how much her appearance would effect you, until you were stuck to the side of the building, staring at what had once been your best friend. You’re so choked up that you can’t even formulate a response, because you want that to be Gwen so badly, but you know it isn’t. The more you look at her, the more Goblin you see, the more you know that the Gwen you love is never coming back.
“Nothing to say?” She asks, and then says your real name, the name she used to say down the crackle of a phone line, or across the school hallway, and she smiles. “I thought you’d be happy to see me.”
“You should’ve stayed in prison, Gwen.” You say, your voice unsteady as you say her name aloud for the first time in what must be forever. She seems to relish in the tremble of your voice, and you have to curse yourself for being so stupid, for already showing the vulnerability she was so easily able to pick out.
The Green Goblin tutted at you, stood atop her glider, but the smile you saw didn’t belong to Gwen. “You’re pathetically predictable, you know. You’re like a moth to the flame.” She tells you, and you fear that she’s right, that you’re the same person you were back when you fought her, back when she almost won. She sighs, like something heavy is weighing upon her, but it turns wistful in the blink of an eye. “I’m just glad your dad isn’t here to see this. He’d be so disappointed.”
“Arachnid, focus.” Jessica’s voice interrupts, before you can spiral down that rabbit hole. How did Gwen even know about your father? She was in prison long before he died. It didn’t make sense.
“Maybe,” You say, that familiar tremble around your words. “He did always hope for the best for you.”
She bares her teeth at your words, the only visible reaction before her mask is slipping over the bottom of her face, stretching out up to pointed ears, all metallic and tinted a murky green. Then, she’s attacking.
It’s muscle memory, mostly, you think.
If you don’t think too hard about it, it could be like playing a game with a longtime friend from your childhood. You know the moves to make, you know how she’ll respond. It’s a constant push and pull, a balance which leaves only destruction behind, the path of the Green Goblin’s wrath tangible in each battle scene the two of you leave behind. You can’t beat her like this.
It’s her glitching that gives you a slight upper hand — and you send her careening off of her glider to the ground below.
Your heart squeezes suddenly in your chest as you watch her fall, her eyes wide in what could almost be perceived as fear. If you didn’t intervene, would she die? Would you have put an end to her story, once and for all, when you secretly hope there’s a cure out there for her? You can’t bear the thought of finding out, of watching her die, and so you foolishly dive after her.
A web to her midsection allows you to grip her before she hits the ground, and you set her down with a far more gentle hand than you would ever admit.
She says your name, then, a whispered version of it that sounds like Gwen. You think you can see her in those wide blue eyes, in that stare, and you approach with some caution. “Gwen,” You say, more of a question, “You with me?”
“I’m with you,” She answers, as you reach her side, as you resist the urge to pull off your mask. You’re so preoccupied staring at her expression that you don’t see the blade until it’s too late, your Spidey-sense failing you as you wallowed in your search for someone who was gone. “You sweet, predictable bug.” She spits then, twisting the blade she had sunk deep into your side, and you writhe, trying to move away from her.
“Arachnid!” Jessica Drew calls out, drawing the Green Goblin’s attention, allowing you to pull away from her slackened grasp. You leave the blade where it is, knowing your only slightly enhanced healing wouldn’t make up for the onslaught of blood that would pour from the wound. “I think that’s enough, Green Goblin.” Jessica says, riding a motorbike that you swore she didn’t have earlier. Nonetheless, she uses it to put even more space between you and your villain.
“You need a hand, kid?” A new voice asks, and a gloved hand reaches out for you where you had knelt against the tarmac. You look up, seeing a new Spider-man, but this one has his mask up, showing off his aged face and the bags underneath his eyes. You wave him off, staggering up to your feet, and clench your jaw as you stare at Green Goblin, watch as she pulls bombs from her waistband, barely the size of a chocolate bar, but capable of causing irreparable damage. “Get back to HQ, Arachnid, we can handle this.” Spider-man tells you, in what you suspect to be a fatherly voice, but you ignore him.
Time flies, slips out of your grasp, and you don’t know how long you and the others spend fighting Green Goblin, but she proves to be just as difficult of a foe for them to face as she was for you. Each time the three of you manage to get the drop on her, she slips away before she could be caught. It’s frustrating, and you can even see the way irritation thickens in the air, tangible.
Spider-man, or Peter, as Jessica had called him, is with you, focusing on trying to take Green Goblin down, whilst Jessica Drew is focused on damage control, blowing up Gwen’s bombs before they could hit their intended targets. You’re pretty sure the resident Spider-man is around here, too, pulling any lingering citizens out of harms way before Green Goblin could end them. You’d admit, it works better than you had done alone back on your own earth.
But it doesn’t work well enough, and more than one building is damaged almost beyond repair, and in the dust and rubble, Peter was distracted by the few citizens poking their heads out of the gaping hole in the side of their apartments. He didn’t see Green Goblin coming until it was too late, until she had thrown two of her bombs, one towards him, and one towards the already wrecked building.
Your throat dries up as you try to figure out what to do, who to go for, but in the end, you don’t have to choose.
Beams of glowing orange webs shoot into the bombs where they arc towards their victims, blowing them up and leaving both Peter and the civilians in the apartments without a scratch on any of them. Well, nothing that wasn’t already there before. You see him then, running alongside Jessica Drew, none other than Miguel O’Hara — who clearly didn’t think that the three of you were capable of handling Green Goblin.
“We’ve gotta end this.” Peter tells the three of you, glaring over at Green Goblin after coming so close to one of her bombs.
“You distract, I’ll go in.” You say, the only plan that makes sense. The only plan that’ll work. You wouldn’t be much use as a distraction, not with the blood still pooling around the blade hanging from your side, but you could beat her. You knew you could.
Peter nodded, and he, Jessica and Miguel went in one after another, landing hits on Green Goblin before she could even think to withdraw another bomb, or land a hit of her own, whilst you made your way behind her, swinging as high as you dared to go in your state. She was getting angry, you could tell, a distinct flush rushing up the back of her neck, a tell that Green Goblin shared with Gwen.
It was only when she was starting to turn the tide that you jumped down from your spot against the side of a building, looking for your opening.
She sent Jessica Drew tumbling off of her motorbike, which was your chance.
Green Goblin heard you only a moment before you were on her, not giving her a chance to make a countermove. Instead, you were curling your arms around her, as tight as you could, holding her hands away from her waistband. You gripped the blade in your side and yanked it out, holding it to her chest, breathing heavily through the pain as you bared your teeth at her, her face beside your own.
“Don’t make me kill you.” You say, and try not to hear the pleading in your own voice, the distinctive tone of a beg. You may have the upper hand on her, but as always, she had the power. “Don’t.” You repeat, because you can feel it in your bones that you would do it. If it was the choice between her or the hundreds that she would kill on this world, it would be those hundreds. There was no doubt about it, no questions to be asked.
You may have resented your mother, but she wasn’t the only one who died because of the Green Goblin. You wouldn’t let that happen again.
Perhaps she heard the plea in your voice, the giveaway that you weren’t bluffing, because she went still in your arms, still enough for the other Spiders to approach with some caution, eyes on her hands where you held them away from any weapons, using your forearm connected to the hand holding the blade to her chest to keep her left hand from grasping anything.
“I won’t be asking again.” You tell her, which is as much of a threat as you can muster. Or, more so, a promise.
As Miguel pushed you back with a firm hand, throwing a machine at Gwen’s feet, you think she understands. If the two of you are ever in that position again, there will be no hesitation about it. You will kill her.
“Good work, kid.” Peter says as Miguel and Jessica get to work with getting your Green Goblin through a portal to the HQ. He glanced down at where your hand is now pressing into your side, blood pouring steadily. In your other hand, you still hold the blade that had pierced your own skin, that would have killed Gwen Stacy had she not surrendered. He winces as if it’s him who got hurt, and guides you through the portal after the others. “C’mon, we’ll get you checked out. You not got enhanced healing?” He asks, though you suspect he doesn’t expect you to answer, and you’re glad.
∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘
“I can do this myself, you know.” You sigh, wincing as a Spider-man — who apparently is also a doctor and works in the Spider Society’s infirmary — stitches up the wound on your midsection. It’s uncomfortable, though less painful that when you do it yourself. Still, it’s uncomfortable to accept help from these strangers.
“Ooh, shouldn’t say that to him.” Peter B. Parker laughs, one of the many Peter Parkers of the Society, but the same one who had fought Green Goblin with you. “He’ll lecture you on proper healthcare for days if you give him the opportunity!”
The Spider-doctor glares at Peter, or you assume he does, from the slight squint of the lenses of his mask. He kisses his teeth under the mask, tutting, muttering about “Spiders and their complete disregard for their health. Lucky you haven’t died ten times over from infections.” But he doesn’t say anything that requires a response from you, and he soon finished up the stitches. He goes to offer to fix up the injury on your ankle, but you’re up on your feet before he can even get the words out.
“Now, I gotta get back home to the wife, but Miguel wants to see you. He’ll take you home,” Peter tells you as he walks out of the infirmary by your side, but he stops you in the hallway with a hand on your shoulder, surprisingly gentle. “If that’s what you want.”
Your eyebrows furrowed before you could stop them, and the confusion over his words must’ve been written all over your face.
“Why wouldn’t I want that?” You ask, defensively.
Peter opens his mouth, but nothing escapes. Instead, it’s his expression that tells you everything he’s thinking. The crease between his brows screams pitying, or sympathetic. He’s talking about the way you live back on your earth, about the life you lead, Arachnid by day, and by night. With no room for you, no room for your secret identity. He’s thinking of the way you’ll be returning to a world with nobody awaiting you, with not a soul to look out for you, to stitch you up after a battle. Nobody but yourself, anyway.
You pull away from him, brows furrowing further, into an almost angered expression, and you don’t watch the way his hand falls away from your shoulder back to his side. He sighs when you turn away, scoffing as you make your way through the hallways of the Lobby towards where you think Miguel will be.
It’s overwhelming, all of these people. They all believe that they know you, that they know your circumstances, your story, but the truth is that they don’t. Nobody does, and that’s the way you prefer it. You don’t need a Society of Spiders surrounding you, breathing down your neck, telling you they’re sorry, or not trusting you to handle yourself in your own fights, because you can handle yourself. You’ve spent the last year of your life trying to prove that, trying to prove that you can do good things, that you’re worthy of the title Arachnid. You certainly shouldn’t need to prove that to a whole Society of people like you, most of which had been doing the job a lot longer.
You’re capable and you’re content.
You don’t need a life as your secret identity to be content, in fact, it’s better without one. You don’t have to tell so many lies, don’t have to worry about hurting the people you love, because there are none of them left. There’s nobody to hurt, and there’s nobody to lie to. Why would you want to change that?
The hallway ahead looks familiar, and you follow it until you enter a room where Miguel stands, looking at orange tinted screens on a platform halfway up the room. You enter with the absolute certainty that you want to return to your own earth, and you’re not going to let anybody stop you.
“I’m ready.” You tell him, expectantly.
He scoffs, saying nothing, still staring at the screens in front of him. For whatever reason, the reaction makes you angry — inexplicably so. You’re slinging up to the platform before you can have a second thought about it, and you’re pushing his shoulder so he’ll face you, so he’ll acknowledge you.
He stares at you, unimpressed.
“Send me back to my earth.” You press, brows furrowed beneath your mask, but you’re sure he can see the anger in the way your shoulders tense up.
“Sure,” Miguel said blankly, staring at you as if you’d suddenly change your mind or something. “But you know, there’s a lot more like her.” He added on when you said nothing, waiting for him to send you back to your world so you could give him back the stupid watch still wrapped around your wrist.
You stared at him like he was speaking a foreign language. “There are no more like her.” You respond, feeling that hot press on your chest. You don’t want to talk about Gwen Stacy anymore than you’re sure he’d like to talk about whatever he had gone through in his life. Hell, you don’t even want to think about her, but you know that nobody else you would ever have to face would hurt you in the way that she did. In the way that having to see her as an enemy, rather than your friend, had hurt. So, yeah, there was nobody like her, not for you.
Miguel seems ready to let you go for a moment, but then he’s shaking his head at you. “You have a place here. You can be with people like you. You don’t have to do this alone, anymore.” He says, and you think that is ironic, because you don’t see anybody else in here. To you, it seems like he is doing exactly that; doing the job alone. You can practically see the weight of the world on his shoulders.
“I prefer being alone.” You tell him, and it has to be true. It has to be.
His jaw sets, acceptance, you think, and he nods. He glances past you, to where a portal was open on the floor below. Considering that you hadn’t seen him set up the portal, you’d wager that his AI Lyla must’ve listened in and done it for him. You pull the watch off of your wrist, relishing in the way your very atoms seem to sag with the weight of being in another dimension.
“Thanks.” You say, and drop down, landing on your sore ankle but not murmuring a word about the pain. You walk back to your world with your head held high, despite your tattered suit and multitude of wounds that would take days to stop hurting.
Miguel stares after you as the portal closes, eyebrows furrowed. He barely acknowledges Jessica Drew’s arrival in the room, already having known she had been lingering in the hallway, listening in. “Well, that went well.” She comments, glancing between where the portal had been and where Miguel stands, brooding. She knows how much pressure he puts on himself, and she knows that he cares about each and every Spider-person in the multiverse. It doesn’t take a Spider-sense to see the way in which you struggle. It’s a familiar struggle, sure, but there were so many Spiders across the multiverse who had a shoulder to lean on in their hardest times. Who did you have? There was no Aunt May for Arachnid, or Gwen Stacy, or Harry Osborne, or, well, anybody.
Jessica thinks that if anybody were to know exactly how that felt, it would be Miguel.
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✨️1K Followers Celebration Day 7: Stray Kids bias wrecker - Jisung✨️
The Heat
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AN: We have reached the end of my milestone celebration! Thank you to all of you, new and old, for your support. You have no idea how much it all means to me <3 Time to end this celebration off with my other other arch nemesis lol.
Synopsis: When your roommate brings home a bag of strange cookies, you two don't think much of it. Assuming whoever sold them to him was lying about them containing an aphrodisiac. You both quickly come to realise that you were very, very incorrect.
Heads up: Han Jisung x Fem! Reader, Roommates AU, dub-con elements (because Reader and Jisung are under the influence of an aphrodisiac, but they do genuinely want each other), mentions of masturbation, dirty talk, nipple play (f. receiving), unprotected piv sex, Reader cries a little, Jisung cums pretty quickly, mentions of multiple orgasms, unrealistic sex (Jisung cums more than once and remains hard), hypersensitivity, some usage of a petname for Reader and a barely there praise kink (f. receiving).
Word count: 3658
I will block you if you are a minor and/or have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.
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"You'll never guess what I found!" Your roommate yells, all but slamming the front door open in his excitement.
"Hello to you too, Jisung," you respond dryly but, your curiosity is piqued. Angling yourself to get a better view of the brown paper bag in his grasp from your position on the couch.
"Sorry, hi. I'm just really hyped," he responds sheepishly, plopping down beside you, "but look!"
You're not sure what you were expecting, but a bag filled with cookies certainly wasn't it. "Uh, they look good?" You offer, not really understanding what makes these cookies in particular so special. The little pink hearts on them are very cute, you'll give them that much.
"No, no listen. These aren't just any old cookies. Minho and I stumbled across this kind of weird looking bakery, and the lady who runs it said these cookies are mixed with some really potent aphrodisiacs,"
Yeah, this is not how you anticipated your Saturday to unfold at all.
"So... you bought them from an apparently really shady bakery and just trusted what that lady said?"
Your words take a few seconds to register in his mind. Big eyes blinking at you owlishly. If he hadn't just admitted to something so stupid, you'd reach over to squish his cheeks because of how endearing he looks right now.
"Well, when you put it like that..."
It takes a great deal of effort on your part not to drag your hand down your face.
"Minho should really stop enabling all of your impulsive purchases and ideas,"
"To be fair, he was the one who dragged me into the bakery. I just happened to stumble across these," he says, motioning to the bag now staring at the two of you on your coffee table.
"My point still stands. Why did you buy so many anyway? Why not just get a few if you just wanted to test them out?"
"They were running a special," he mutters.
"I didn't realise you were this naive. I have some magic beans to sell you if you're interested," you tease, grinning as the tips of his ears redden.
"Ha ha ha. Very funny. They weren't that pricey anyway so, luckily I didn't spend much," he reaches for the bag, fishing out a cookie.
"Woah hey, what're you doing?"
"Eating the cookies I bought? Like you said, I'm sure they're a scam, so I might as well eat them since I spent money on them," he responds with a shrug. Your anxiety building watching him take his first bite.
"Oh, they're pretty good, actually. Want one?" He asks, turning his big brown eyes onto you. Now, how are you supposed to say no when he looks at you with those eyes?
"If these are poisoned or something, I swear I'm going to haunt you," you respond, and your roommate takes that as a green light.
"We'll both be ghosts then. I don't think ghosts can haunt each other," he says with a laugh, the brushes of his fingers against yours feeling like electricity as he hands you a cookie.
You choose to essentially shove the cookie in your mouth to avoid dealing with that particular can of worms. Jisung was right. They are delicious. Flavours of strawberry with faint hints of chocolate caressing your taste buds. Maybe they were worth turning into a ghost for if the worst comes to pass, you think.
"See? They're good, right?"
"Yeah, I can't even lie. That's one of the best cookies I've ever had. If we survive this, you should show this oddball bakery to me,"
"Oh," and you immediately regret admitting to him that you actually liked it, "how the tables have turned. What was that you were saying earlier about reckless purchases?"
Rolling your eyes, you stand up in order to get ready for bed. Jisung's smugness more than enough motivation to finally get your ass off the couch.
"Goodnight Jisung," you say, waving him off.
"Goodnight," you don't even need to turn around to see the smirk stretched across his face. You can hear it clear as day.
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Everything feels like it's on fire when you wake up the following morning.
You're absolutely drenched in sweat and your throat is beyond dry. Perhaps the oddest realisation of all is that you're wet. As in, obscenely so. Your thighs are smeared in it and you're almost certain it's leaked all the way onto your bedsheets.
What the hell?
It takes you some very long minutes to blink your bleary eyes open. Your muddled mind working a mile a minute to try and make sense of all of this. Last night hadn't been that hot so, there should be no reason why you're this sweaty. Plus, from what you can remember at the very least, you hadn't touched yourself before turning in for the night. So why in the world are you this wet? And more than that, why does it hurt so much more than usual?
'What is going on?' Is that question that echoes through your skull as you join the world of the conscious. You're due for a shower and a change of sheets, you think. You feel pretty disgusting at the moment, and a shower might just be what you need to help calm you down. An ice cold one.
On perhaps the strangest morning you've experienced to date, you don't expect to bump into a shirtless Jisung with a towel wrapped around his slim waist.
You've seen your roommate without a shirt more times than you can count at this point. However, it's never made you feel like this before.
The throbbing gets worse. So, so much worse. Warmth flooding your face when you feel yourself gush onto the fresh pair of sleeping shorts you'd just changed into. Jisung is an attractive man. A very, very attractive man. You've had no qualms with admitting that in the most private parts of your mind and on nights when images of him between your thighs are the only thoughts that can push you off of the proverbial edge.
But it's never been like this.
"Morning," he says gruffly. God, that just made it worse. If you weren't too lost in your own spiral, you'd notice his blown out pupils and the glassy quality to his eyes. How they shamelessly rake over your body. How he has to adjust his hold on his towel so you don't notice how hard he is. How hard he's been for what feels like hours now.
"Morning," you squeak back in response once your higher order functions return to you. Practically slamming the bathroom door in his face and, sagging against it once you're alone.
What is wrong with you?
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Taking a shower was minimally successful. At least you're no longer drenched in various body fluids, but you still feel as though there's molten lava coursing through your veins. Everything is just so hot.
Touching yourself while you were in there didn't help either. If anything, it only added fuel to the inferno that seems hell bent on swallowing you whole from the inside out. Maybe you're just in desperate need of a good fuck. It has been longer than you care to admit since you last slept with someone. That Changbin guy was nice and ridiculously attractive. Perhaps you should give him a call.
You're disrupted from your thoughts when you hear a tentative knock at your bedroom door. Jisung. Oh no, you're not sure if you can handle looking at him right now, let alone being in the same room with him. Your mind has been replaying the encounter from this morning over and over again. Even that hadn't helped you cum in a satisfactory way. Which is insane because thinking about him works 11 times out of 10. You must really need to be fucked.
However, you're not a child. You're not going to avoid your roommate and your friend just because you're a little (okay, maybe it's more than a little) more sexually frustrated than usual. You're more mature than that.
"Come in," you say, cringing at the hoarseness in your voice.
To your relief (and mild disappointment), Jisung has a shirt on. Though, the way the tank top leaves his broad shoulders and biceps completely uncovered isn't helping the to soothe the squirming of your insides.
Jisung looks exactly how you feel: like a total wreck. His hair is in dissary and sticking to his damp forehead and his cheeks are flushed with an appealing dust of pink. You wonder if this is what he'd look like underneath you.
"What's up?" You croak, looking at your bedroom door as though it's the most interesting object you've ever seen. He may have a shirt on, but you're not sure you can handle looking at him for too long right now. For both of your sakes.
"Does it feel hot as fuck for you today too? I don't know what's been going on, but I already took two showers today, and I still feel like I might pass out from heat stroke," he says, making himself comfortable on your bed. While not out of the oddinary, having him so close to you is sending your barely coherent mind into panic. The desire to straddle his incredibly welcoming looking lap clawing at your insides.
"Yeah, it does feel a lot hotter than usual today. Maybe there's a ventilation issue or something in our place? Because I checked the weather and it the temperature for the day is on the cooler side, funnily enough," you respond, wiping some excess sweat off of your forehead. So, you're not the only one who seems to feel...off, weird even today. Whatever is happening appears to be affecting Jisung too.
"Really? That's so weird. I thought maybe there was a heat wave or something. I don't know how much more of this I can take," he sighs, throwing himself down. The bottom of his tank top exposing a sliver of his toned abdomen. Fuck.
Before your mind can assault you with fantasies of covering his abs in your wetness, that's when it hits you. Those damn cookies. They have to be the reason you're like this and that you suspect Jisung is experiencing something very similar.
"Jisung, I think I know why we're feeling so hot right now," you rush out, fingers absentmindedly toying with your blanket.
"Really? Well, I'm all ears," he responds, turning to give you all of his attention.
Fuck, how did you not realise it sooner? Jisung's eyes are almost black with how dilated his pupils are. Desire flashing like a neon sign on his face.
You really can't afford to soak through another pair of shorts right now. Focus.
"I think the cookies - I think the cookies weren't a scam," you mutter, hugging your legs to your chest. Your face is so warm that you're surprised the heat from it isn't radiating off of you.
He just keeps looking at you. You know the moment your words sink in because his face quickly shifts from a pretty, pink flush to an almost scarlet red. His mouth opening and closing as he grapples with what to even say to you.
"What? What makes you think that?" It's his turn to squeak and avoid your gaze. Seemingly fascinated with your ceiling.
"What else could it be? We both had them yesterday, and now we're sweating buckets and -" You cut yourself off. Jisung doesn't need to know you've been wet all day. You should probably keep that part to yourself.
However, the universe is determined to make you suffer, "And what?" He asks, meeting your eyes briefly before turning away. His teeth toying with his bottom lip.
"It-It's fine. Don't worry about it, but, um just trust me. I really think those cookies are the reason we're like this," You stutter out, studiously ignoring the lecherous thoughts creeping back into your mind.
Jisung doesn't say anything at first. Just laying there before sitting up once more, his hand ruffling his hair, "I wasn't kidding when I said I don't know much of this I can take. I feel like I'm losing my mind."
That you can relate to. Intimately.
"The solution is pretty obvious," you joke in an attempt to lighten the thick tension in the air. It almost makes it difficult to even breathe properly.
Your words have the opposite effect, however. Startled, fiery brown eyes meeting your own. Jisung looks like he's seriously considering it, and you're not sure whether your stomach knots itself in hope or anxiety.
"Jisung, I was-"
"Do you want to?"
Now it's your turn to stare at him in stunned silence. Probably looking like an absolute buffoon gaping at him. Is he joking? Is this his way of getting back at you?
"Wha-What?" Comes your brilliant response.
"Do you want to?" He repeats, both looking and sounding deathly serious.
"You don't have to do this, you know. If you don't want to. We can j-"
"I want to," he interrupts again, his cheeks darkening, but he doesn't falter in his words.
Your very hot, very kind, very funny roommate is offering himself on a silver platter. Even if you weren't so wet you could die, you'd be an idiot to say no.
"Okay," you whisper, meeting his eyes head on. Your heart thundering against your chest as you watch him shift closer to you. Barely any space left between the two of you. You're not sure who moves first, and it ultimately doesn't matter because after months of fantasising about it, Jisung's mouth is finally on yours.
Maybe it's the cookies, but your first kiss isn't gentle or slow or sweet. It's fierce and messy and desperate from the very beginning. Your hands not sure where they want to settle themselves. Alternating between pulling on his hair, pulling the most delicious whimpers from him or steadying yourself on his muscular shoulders while you two fall deeper into each other.
The gasp that leaves your mouth when Jisung nestles himself between your thighs is loud and throaty. He's hard. So hard and so hot that you can feel the heat radiating from him even through your respective clothing. Jisung wastes no time in covering your throat and jaw in sloppy, uncoordinated kisses while he shallowly grinds his erection against you. Greedily searching for any semblance of relief he can possibly find.
"Ji-Jisung," you moan, arching into his touch when one of his hands gives your breast an experimental squeeze. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this," he groans against your neck between licks and nips, thumbing at your already hard nipple through your shirt.
"Re-Really?" You manage to ask through the fog. "Really," he responds, impatiently shoving your shirt up and taking one of your nipples into his mouth. To say you were unprepared for the sensation of being enveloped in his wet, warm mouth would be putting it lightly. You're so much more sensitive than usual. It might be the cookies, or it might just be Jisung. Probably a dangerous mixture of the two.
You've never cum just from having your breasts played with but, there's a first time for everything if the increasing wetness staining your shorts and inner thighs is any indication. Jisung, for his part, is content to spend hours with your tits in his face and in his mouth. Licking, sucking and fondling to his heart's content while he desperately humps your thigh. The dream, really.
He's about to whine when you tug him off of you, but he's shut up by your tongue being shoved down his throat. Your hands frantically pushing his tank top up and off of him until his bare torso is free for you to explore. Smiling into him when he whimpers at the way your nails rake across his skin. A pitchy 'fuck' greeting your ears when you accidentally brush one of his nipples. Oh. Interesting.
Kissing and touching him is a double-edged sword. On the one hand, Jisung is fantastic with his mouth, and his firm chest is incredibly fun to explore. Figuring out which places garner you groans or whimpers or whines. Which ones make him grind into harder. Which leads to the other hand. You're so soaked and painfully empty, and kissing him isn't helping to soothe any of those flames.
"Jisung," you mutter against his mouth, your hands ghosting over the waistband of his sweats. Delighting in the way he shudders above you and his abdominal muscles jump under your barely there touches.
"Ye-Yeah?"
"I want you to fuck me, please," you whine into his ear, lightly biting down on his lobe, "it hurts."
Jisung exhales a very long sigh against your throat, "You're going to kill me."
A breathless laugh bubbles out of you when he pulls away to shove his sweats down. Any trace of humour vanishes quickly when his cock smacks against his toned stomach. He's so hard that it looks painful, flushed an angry shade of red, and glistening with pre-cum. You can't help but stare. Your walls clamping down harshly around nothing.
"I thought you wanted to get fucked?" He asks with an arrogant grin on his stupidly handsome face.
"Shut up," you respond, lifting your hips and letting your shorts join the heap of clothing on your bedroom floor. It's your turn to feel a little smug when Jisung's eyes zero in on your pussy. You don't think you've ever been this wet in your entire life, and you're too far gone to have any semblance of self-consciousness or embarrassment.
Jisung returns to his position between your thighs before you can fire out any quips, his cock nudging your entrance causing your head to spin and a soft moan to slip from you. "Stop teasing," you whine, wrapping your legs around his waist and clinging to his broad back.
"So-Sorry," is all the warning you receive before he very gradually starts sinking into you. god, it's never felt like this. Ever. With anyone else. Tears accumulate in your eyes, and a few roll down your face with every inch he pushes into you.
"Are you okay?" He asks lowly, kissing your cheek repeatedly and halting his movements.
"Yeah. Yes, Ji, I'm fine. Please don't stop," you practically moan, clawing into his back when he mumbles a curse and continues.
You can barely think, let alone breathe when he's fully sheathed inside of you. His cock pulsing inside of you violently and Jisung quivering above you, hushed moans of your name and whimpers being pressed into your shoulder. A whine hitting your ears when you squirm a little and tighten your hold around his waist.
"Wait, fuck. Wait, don't move," he moans, his hands grounding himself with his hold on your pillowy thighs. You struggle to comprehend his words. Everything is so muddled and overwhelming, and he just feels so fucking good, and he hasn't even moved yet.
At first, you assume Jisung's increase in sounds of pleasure and throbbing inside of you is just because he's as overwhelmed as you are. Every single nerve feeling like it's engulfed in flames. However, when his strained apologies register, you realise he came. Hot spurts of his cum flooding your eager pussy and open-mouthed kisses being pressed into your shoulder between apologies.
"Ji-Jisung,"
"I'm fuck I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to. It just happened. Fuck you must think I'm so pathetic-"
"Jisung, stop. It-It's okay. That was really hot actually," you mutter, and you mean it. If anything, you're flattered that you managed to make him cum so fast.
"What? Really?" He asks, blinking down at him. His pretty eyes beyond fucked out and sweat dotting his face. God, he's so pretty. Your pussy clenching involuntarily.
"Yea- Wait, are you still hard?" You ask, only realising now that he's still nestled deeply inside of you despite the cum that's gradually starting to dribble out of you.
He looks as shocked as you. Seemingly not realising that his own cock hadn't softened in the slightest. "Holy shit," he breathes, thrusting into you experimentally, drawing a whimper and your nails biting into his back in reaction.
"Remind me to go back to that bakery," he utters into your throat. Giving you little time to adjust before picking up his pace considerably. Between your wetness and his cum, he fucks into you easily. Your combined noises of pleasure echoing throughout your bedroom while you two lose yourselves in one another.
You've been teetering on the edge for what feels like ages. All it takes is for Jisung to find your sweet spot for your eyes to roll into the back of your head and your back to arch into him. Your lovely, lovely roommate fucking you through it all and exploiting your newly discovered weakness.
"That's it, baby," he groans into your ear, his hands holding you firmly in place and making you take each and every thrust he gives you, "You're taking me so well. You're doing so good."
Those words are going to be replaying in your mind for the rest of your life.
Your mind is utterly blank as the most intense orgasm you've ever experienced wreaks your body. Your thighs shaking violently, and your hands holding onto Jisung for dear life while you tighten around him. Fuck. Fuck. You're so full, and it's so much, but not enough at the same time.
"More, please. Jisung, please. I want more," you cry out, not caring in the slightest about the pathetic, desperate edge to your voice. All you're capable of thinking about is cumming on his cock over and over again and, him filling you with his cum until it's still leaking out of you days later.
"I've got you, baby," he whispers, the pet name he's grown a fondness for causing butterflies to arise in your stomach.
"We're far from being finished."
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katyswrites · 9 months
Text
don't call me 'baby'
PART 9 | SERIES
Pairing: Steve Harrington/fem!reader
Warnings: Sugardaddy!Steve, SMUT (18+), angst (so much angst, sorry), unprotected p in v, daddy kink, oral sex (f receiving), cum play, ddlg dynamics, dom/sub dynamics, kind of a derogatory reference to sex work, swearing, alcohol use, smoking, age gap, no use of y/n
Wordcount: 5.4k
A sugar daddy modern AU, a whirlwind summer romance in Italy, and two people from completely different walks of life, somehow finding each other in one of the most beautiful cities in the world. But, what will happen when summer ends?
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PART 9 | forever the name on my lips
“So - Robin knows that this surprise party isn’t actually a surprise, right?” you asked.
Steve laughed over the phone.
“Uh, no - she 100 percent thinks you have no clue.”
You groaned. “I’m terrible at lying to her -”
“You’re not lying - look, you should see how excited she is -”
You rolled your eyes, putting the phone down on your desk and putting him on speaker. 
“You’re an enabler, you know that?”
“I am not -”
“You so are!” you retorted. “Every year, Robin tries to make my birthday a bigger thing than it is - it’s always over-the-top, and never what I ask for. I usually just like, want to go get drinks, or watch my favorite movie at home, but she decides to invite over 40 of our closest friends instead, or pull out some trick to outdo the year before. Did you know that our first year we lived together, she almost burned our place down by putting 18 trick candles on my cake?”
“Your point being?”
You sighed, leaning over the desk closer to the mirror to put on your mascara.
“My point being that you’ve taken a monster, and given her a real budget this time.”
He laughed again, and the sound of it made your heart ache. You took a deep breath, thankful he couldn’t see you right now.
“Look, I think she’s doing this because she loves you - plus, she’s mad that I stole you away for your actual birthday, so this was my bribe.”
You sighed, stepping back to pull on your dress - another new one you had commissioned, thanks to Steve’s credit card.
“I’m going to really have to practice my surprised face,” you said sarcastically. 
You reached for your earrings on the dresser, the ones Steve had bought you for the gala. You didn’t love the idea of walking around with a million dollars on your ears, but it was a special occasion, after all.
“What has she told you you’re allegedly doing?” he asked, voice tinny and slightly muffled through the phone’s speaker.
“Just meeting some friends for dinner - but, she said to dress a little nicer than usual. I can’t believe she thinks I don’t suspect anything.”
“Maybe she does - maybe you’re both putting up a silly charade for no reason, just to spare feelings.”
You nearly scoffed, but stopped yourself - he had no clue how much you were doing that with him already.
It had been nearly a week since you and Steve had returned from your birthday getaway. Since then, you had been spiraling. Every time you thought of him, you felt like you couldn’t breathe. When you were with him, it felt so right - when you were alone, you felt lonelier than you ever had before. You gave it a few days, just to see if the blissful environment of being on vacation was just tricking you into thinking  you had real feelings for Steve. After all, that wasn’t reality… right?
But now, nearly a week later, you nearly felt sick when you thought about him - the sight of him made your heart flutter, every nice gesture and sweet compliment made your stomach flip and your face bloom with heat. You were hopelessly in love - you were so stupid.
Since the trip, you and Steve hadn’t spent much time together. Part of it was him getting slammed with work - a relief, honestly. It had given you time to try and have some rational thought, and sort out your feelings. You getting your period right upon return to Rome also put a dent in things - you hadn’t exactly been feeling up to sex, which Steve had been understanding about. But, this had only made things worse - he still took you out to dinner a few days ago, insisting on still wanting to see you, if you were up for it. Afterwards, you had gone back to his place and just put on a movie, falling asleep on the couch. It was the first time you had ever slept over without having sex - somehow, more intimate than anything you had done up to that point.  In short - you were screwed. 
But, now you had to go to this godforsaken birthday party, with Steve in front of all of your friends, and act like everything was fine. In some ways, it was. But in others… the end of summer was fast approaching. And, the thought of that left a pit in your stomach.
“You still there?” Steve’s voice asked.
“Oh, yeah,” you said, zipping up the back of your dress. “Sorry, I’m just getting ready -”
“What are you wearing?” he asked jokingly.
“Shut up -”
“Right - that’s for later,” he said. You could practically hear him smirking through the phone. You roll your eyes again.
“Well, I’m ready to go, and I’m sure Robin is itching to get me out the door, so - see you in a bit?”
“Yes - except, you don’t know that,” he said.
“Oh of course - well, I’ll be sure to act surprised.”
“I’m sure you’ll kill it - see you, bye,” he said, promptly hanging up.
You didn’t take time to dwell on it, how formal he still could be sometimes - reminding you of exactly who you were to him, you supposed - as Robin started knocking on your door, asking if you were ready to go.
“Just a minute!” you cried. You reached for the dresser for a final thing - the ruby necklace Steve had given you for your birthday. When you opened the bedroom door to an impatient Robin in the doorway, you were clasping it on.
“Jesus - where did you get that?” she asked, gesturing to the jewel on your sternum.
“Birthday gift from Steve.”
Robin crossed her arms, shaking her head.
“What?” you asked.
“Nothing, it’s just - how’s that going?”
“Fine,” you lied. “I told you, the vacation was fun -”
“Doesn’t it all just seem - like a bit too much?” she asked cautiously.
“I - what do you mean -”
“Well - the trip, the gifts, being with him for hours on the phone every night - it just feels like he’s more than a - benefactor, sugar daddy, whatever you want to call it -”
You felt your face heat.
“Robin - no - it’s just - it’s an arrangement, and it’s going the way we both said it would -”
Robin just stared at you for a moment, and sighed with defeat. 
“Whatever you say. Just - be careful, okay? I don’t want you getting hurt again -”
“I’m fine,” you said firmly. “I promise.”
A lie.
“C’mon - let’s go out,” you said, quickly changing the subject and heading for the door.
Robin didn’t get the chance to argue further.
*****
You took the bus towards the city center, walking a few blocks before reaching one of your favorite restaurants - you and Robin frequented the bar more than the tables, often going there to celebrate the end of the semester, or to drink your sorrows away after a breakup or shitty week.
“You could have just said we were coming here,” you said, letting Robin take your hand to lead you inside.
Robin just shrugged, and you could tell she was fighting a grin - she really is terrible at keeping secrets. But, you did your best to keep your face neutral.
When you walked inside, the place was dimly lit. You could practically feel Robin’s anticipation behind you, and felt inwardly thankful that she couldn’t see your face. Then, the lights flashed on, and you were bombarded with an uproaring “SURPRISE!”
Even though you were anticipating it, you still jumped - it was far more people than you had been expecting. 
“Holy shit -”
Robin was practically bouncing, grinning. “Happy birthday, babe.”
You shook your head. “I - did you invite like, everyone we know?”
She nodded excitedly. “Mm hm! And the whole place is rented out, so it’s just us - open bar too!”
How much did this cost Steve? you wondered.
“Robin - you really didn’t have to do all this -”
“Oh hush - your boy toy took you away from me on your birthday, so we’re celebrating now.”
You laughed, pulling Robin in for a quick hug.
“Thanks, Robs.”
She was positively beaming, and you didn’t have the heart to tell her that you’ve known about this for two weeks, that Steve had told you when he and Robin had been texting, how he had put his credit card down for the whole thing. So, you just smiled, and squeezed her tighter.
“Well,” she said when she pulled away, “you need a drink - your usual?”
You nodded, watching as she headed over to the bar. Soon enough, it was a whirlwind of friends, classmates, old co-workers, and essentially anyone you would even consider a friendly acquaintance swarming you, giving you a hug and wishing you happy birthday. There was even a DJ, playing all of your favorite music, the tables cleared to the sides to make the space empty enough to fit everyone - you were certain the evening would descend into dancing soon enough. Robin soon enough returned with your drink, and you let yourself actually relax. 
Then, a strong arm wrapped around your waist, and you feel yourself jump. You turn, smiling.
“Hey there, baby,” Steve said, pulling you close.
When did he start calling you that outside of the bedroom?
“Fancy seeing you here,” you joked. He smiled softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. 
“What do you think of your party?” he asked.
“I think you’ve been too good to me.”
“Well, this was all Robin - I just helped.”
“If that’s what you’re telling yourself - I - thank you,” you whispered. “You really didn’t have to.”
He waved you off. “Nonsense - I like spoiling you. You look beautiful, by the way,” he added, his fingers coming to brush the pendant hanging from your neck.
The butterflies were back. Fuck.
“Only because you give me such pretty things to wear,” you retorted.
He laughed. “I’ll buy you every pretty thing you want, baby.”
Your heart fluttered, and you looked down into your glass to avoid eye contact. 
Then, a familiar voice was calling your name. You looked up, and smiled.
“Eddie?”
“Bella, look at you!” he said, bounding over and pulling you out of Steve’s grasp and into a tight hug. You laughed, Eddie practically lifting you off of your feet.
“You’re stunning, as always -” he says once he puts you down.
“Oh, shut up - flattery will get you nowhere -”
He threw his head back and laughed. “Can’t blame a man for trying, right?”
He then glanced over your shoulder.
“Steve, right?”
Steve nodded stiffly, forcing a smile.
“You two look gorgeous - want a picture?” Eddie asked, holding up the camera hanging around his neck.
“Oh, sure - Steve?” you asked, turning to silently plead with him.
Then he was back by your side again, arm snaking around your waist and pulling you close.
“Smile!” Eddie said from where he was crouching behind the lens. You did, posing for the photo. The shutter started rapid-fire clicking, and after a moment, you felt Steve’s lips on your cheek, and your face heated. You did your best to ignore it, letting Eddie get a few more shots as you pressed closer into him.
“What a beautiful couple!” Eddie proclaimed, grinning into the viewfinder. 
“Oh - Eddie, we’re -”
“She’s doing the heavy-lifting there!” Steve joked. You froze, unsure how to even address that. But Eddie just chuckled, saying something along the lines of you didn’t need to tell me that! and walking away, making a beeline for the bar.
Before you could say anything to Steve, Robin is running over, taking you by the hands.
“Sorry Steve, can I steal her?” 
He nodded with a smile, letting go of you as Robin pulled you through the crowd, babbling on about how Vickie’s ex had the audacity to show up, and how someone brought their boyfriend uninvited, and a hundred other things you would normally care about.
Steve hadn’t said no when Eddie called you a couple - what the fuck?
But, the next few hours were a whirlwind - you had lost count of how many drinks you had, catching up with friends you hadn’t seen all summer, learning who's dating who, what their plans were for the upcoming semester, asking how you’re doing - you decidedly did not mention that you had spent all summer as the mistress of a man a decade older than you - still, it felt nice to see your friends again, to catch up and try to relax. You ate your fill in the food spread that had been put out, all of your favorite things from the menu, a few extra things that Robin must have requested specially. So many of your friends remarked on how well you looked, how you were glowing, admiring your jewelry and asking where you got it (which, you pointedly lied about). Even Jonathan Byers showed up, the sweet yet introverted guy who you had befriended in one of your art courses. You were chatting with him and Eddie about their upcoming photography portfolios when you saw Steve again, approaching with a new drink for you.
“Oh, hey,” you said, accepting it gratefully.
“Having fun?” Steve asked, casting a glance to your friends.
“Yeah! Uh, Steve, you know Eddie, and this is Jonathan - not sure if you two met yet.”
“Nice to meet you,” Steve said, extending his hand. Jonathan hesitated, then took it, letting Steve shake it firmly.
Then, Steve’s lips pressed to your ear, whispering, “Want to dance?”
You bit your lip, nodding, and bid farewell to the other boys for now. The makeshift dance floor was starting to fill up now, your friends moving along to the music and spilling drinks onto the floor. 
“So, does Eddie know how to button a shirt?” Steve asked sarcastically.
You huffed.
“Don’t tell me you’re still jealous -”
“I - I’m not. He’s just - he’s such a flirt -”
‘He’s a flirt with everyone - he’d shoot his shot with you, if I left you two alone.”
Steve’s face turned red at that. 
“I - uh -”
“Besides,” you whispered, pulling him closer by his shirt collar, admiring the way his chest hair just barely peeked out of the open top button, “I kind of like how easily he gets you riled up.”
Steve rolled his eyes.
You closed your eyes, swaying to the music.
“When was the last time you did something like this?” you asked over the cacophony, gesturing to the club-like atmosphere around you. He laughed.
“I’m not that old - but, probably not since a little after I finished college… when I started working, I didn’t really have the energy for… all of this. And… Nancy never liked it much anyway.”
You felt your heart sink, and shook your head. You were properly tipsy, had the confidence to pull Steve toward you, taking his hands in yours. 
“Then - dance with me like you’re 20 again, yeah?”
“Again, I’m not old -”
“Will you just shut up and dance?” you said, pulling him close. He obliged, letting you bury your face into his neck as you swayed along to the music.
He twirled you, watched on fondly as you found your friends on the dance floor, and laughed as he saw how excited each new song made you. At one point, you caught him looking at you in the corner of your eye - he wore an expression so soft, so sincere, that he was almost unrecognizable.
“What is it?” you asked.
He shook his head. “Nothing - I just -”
“Where’s the birthday girl?” Robin’s voice called from the other end of the room. The music faded, and she came out from behind the bar with a massive cake, lit with what you guessed were probably 21 candles.
“Everyone! 1 - 2 - 3-”
Then everyone was singing you Happy Birthday, pushing you towards the front to where Robin stood, wearing a wide smile. 
“Make a wish,” she whispered.
You sighed, knowing exactly what to wish for, and leaned down to blow out the candles to boisterous applause.
“Chocolate cake with mousse, of course - your favorite,” Robin said, serving you the first slice.
“I’d expect nothing less,” you replied, accepting it gratefully - it’s been the kind of cake you’ve gotten for every birthday for as long as you remembered. Even your parents remembered that each year, to their credit.
“Want a slice?” you asked, turning to Steve.
“Oh - no, I’m okay -”
“At least taste a bite?”
He sighed, smiling in defeat.
“Yeah, okay.”
You took a forkful and held it out to him, feeding it into his mouth. He groaned at the taste, fighting a smile.
“Yeah, okay - that’s delicious -”
“I told you -”
Then Steve reached out, gently wiping away what you presumed was some smeared chocolate from the corner of your mouth with his thumb.
“Did you have a nice birthday party?” he asked softly.
“Yeah - I did. Just - everything for my birthday was wonderful. I - thank you.”
Then he was pulling you close and kissing you, on the lips, in front of everyone. You let your eyes flutter shut and leaned into the kiss, tasting just a bit of chocolate on his lips, inhaling the familiar scent of his cologne.
You pulled away, looking up at him through half-lidded eyes.
“What was that for?”
He shrugged.
“I just really wanted to do that - is that okay?”
You nodded, eyes flitting to his lips again as your stomach did a somersault. You were so aware of eyes on you two, some whispers floating through the room despite the loud music, but you pulled him down for another kiss again, lacing your hands around the back of his neck.
“Take me home with you,” you whispered against his lips.
“Now?”
“Now.”
Then he was grabbing your hand, only slowing down as you bid goodbye to Robin, thanking her for the party, and you both practically bolted towards the door.
*****
It was nearly midnight by the time you reached Steve’s place - not that it mattered. You had jumped him nearly the second you got in the car he had called, closing the privacy shield between yourselves and the driver. You technically behaved yourselves - clothes stayed on, at least. But you kissed him like you needed him more than oxygen, all tongue and desperate gasps as you moved to straddle his lap in the backseat. You were grinding on his thigh, palming him through his pants like horny teenagers in their mom’s old Honda. 
You tore out of the car like bats out of Hell when you reached his apartment building, only maintaining self-control in the elevator thanks to the old man who got on with you and rode it most of the way. The moment you tumbled through Steve’s door, you were all over each other, shedding clothes in a trail leading to the bedroom.
“I missed this,” you breathed against his mouth, shedding him of his button-down.
“Me too,” he said, reaching to unzip your dress and let it fall to the floor.
“Steve - I want to thank you - for my birthday party - for everything -”
“Mm, okay - yeah baby, whatever you want -”
It was desperate, messy, and filled with carnal need, Steve tearing your undergarments off as he practically threw you onto the bed. He wasted no time, eating you out like your pussy gave him oxygen, making you cum on his tongue twice before even taking his pants off. You pulled on his hair, crying out his name as he coaxed your orgasms out of you, slowly kissing his way back up your body until his face hovered above yours. He was grinning, his chin glistening with your release, and you could have just stared at that forever.
“Steve, please -” you begged, “I need you -”
“I know, baby,” he said, crawling over you. “I just wanted to take care of you first, it’s okay -”
Then he was kissing you, fumbling with his belt and shedding himself of his boxers, pulling you close.
It had only been a week, but you nearly screamed when he entered you, gasping at the stretch.
“Fuck - you’re always so tight and perfect, baby - I haven’t fucked you since we got back to the city, it was drivin’ me nuts -”
“Me too,” you mewled, clawing at his back as he began to thrust into you. “Steve - please fuck me, please -”
And he did. But, the earlier desperation had faded - he rolled his hips into yours slowly, holding you close as he groaned into your skin. He pressed kisses to your neck, showering you with praises and sweet nothings in your ear. It didn’t feel like primal, needy sex - it almost felt like making love. He was soft, gentle, but knew your body better than anyone by now, touching you in all the right places.
“You’re so beautiful, so perfect -” he murmured, smirking as you moaned at a particularly deep thrust, “my whole life, I’ve been looking for a pussy like yours, baby -”
“I - ah! Fuck, I - I know what you mean. You fuck me like nobody else - daddy, I -”
“I know, baby,” he said, pressing gentle kisses across your face. “Look at you, wearin’ the fuckin’ jewelry I bought you as I fuck you - I love when you do that - you’ve been so good, letting me spoil you all summer - like a good girl, I can’t believe it -”
He was rambling now, and you knew that meant he was close. You wrapped your legs around his torso, digging your heels into his back to pull him in impossibly deeper. Pleasure pulsed through your body, heat gathering in your abdomen, and you started meeting his thrusts with your hips in earnest.
“You close?” he asked. 
“Yes - I’m going to cum all over your cock, sir -”
“Thank god - I’m not going to last much longer -”
“I know - let go,” you said, pulling him down for a messy kiss. He groaned against your lips, his cock twitching a bit inside you.
“I just wanna stay buried in this pussy, baby - forever -”
“I know,” you whispered. “I never want this to end.”
You never wanted any of it to end. 
But you held onto him with desperation, losing yourself in the feel of him, his scent, the sound of his voice -
All that was running through your mind was I love you I love you IloveyouIloveyouIlo-
Then you were coming, convulsing around him with a scream. You arched off of the mattress, burying your face in his shoulder as your orgasm washed over you in waves, ebbing and flowing gently instead of crashing all at once. He followed moments later, hips stuttering as he filled you, your name on his lips like it was a sacred thing.
You both stayed like that for a while - you stared at the ceiling, soothingly running your fingers through his hair as he lazily kissed your neck. You weren’t sure how long you stayed like that, but eventually he began to soften, forcing him to pull out of you and roll over onto your back by your side. 
You turned your head on the pillow to face him - he was blissed out, smiling as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.
“I think that was our best yet,” he whispered. 
You hummed in agreement - you had felt it the night of your birthday in the villa, too - something had shifted in bed. Yyou couldn’t quite place it. But, you knew it scared the hell out of you.
“Are you okay?” he asked, brushing the backs of his fingers along your arm.
“Mm, yeah - just thinking.”
“About what?” he asked, propping himself on his elbow. “What’s going on in that pretty little mind?”
You could’ve cried from the gentleness in his voice, your heart fluttering a bit as you looked at him - you did your best to memorize his face, the way his hair fell, every freckle and mole along his body - and it hit you that this was ending soon. You didn’t even realize you had started to cry - but, hot tears were rolling down your cheeks, and you pressed the heels of your hands into your eyes.
“Fuck,” you whispered.
“Whoa - you okay? What’s going on?” he asked - he sounded terrified.
“It’s nothing - don’t worry about it -” you said, sitting up.
“Baby, you’re crying - of course I’m going to be worried -”
“Why?” you cried, the question coming out harsher than you had intended.
His face flashed with confusion and concern, and he sat up, too.
“What do you mean why?”
“Because - because you’re not supposed to care!”
“I - I don’t understand -”
“Steve! What the fuck are we doing here?”
“We - we were having a nice night, I thought - now I don’t -”
You wiped your tears, groaning with frustration.
“Steve - I don’t know how to be around you. You said this was just for sex, right? All fun, no feelings, all that bullshit? We literally wrote it down -”
His face went more neutral, and he nodded.
“Well, yes - that was the arrangement -”
“So then you don’t get to ask me what’s wrong - you don’t get to ask me how my day was, plan my birthday party with my best friend, call me nearly every night, name a goddamn star after me -”
“Whoa - you don’t like that I did those things?”
“No!” you screamed, frustrated. “I don’t like that you’re being my boyfriend!”
“I - I’m not your boyfriend.”
“Oh, you’ve made that very clear - so you can stop acting like it!”
You didn’t realize how loud your voice had gotten, your breakdown quickly pivoting to unbridled anger and frustration.
“I’m not - so what, you want me to fuck you and just send you home? Like a goddamn prostitute?”
“Well maybe if you had done that in the first place you would’ve saved yourself a whole lot of trouble!” you screamed.
He went silent for a moment, just staring at you. You sighed, pressing your fingers to your temples.
“Steve, look - this summer - I mean, it’s been amazing. I really mean that. But, the summer is ending soon - when do you even go back to the States?”
“September 1st,” he said quietly.
You froze, your heart plummeting. “Jesus Christ, that’s in like two weeks - when were you going to tell me?”
He stared down at his hands, shaking his head.
“I - I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you - I just wanted you to enjoy tonight, and not ruin it, I know it sounds ridiculous, but I figured if I didn’t tell you, it would make it less real -”
“So you were just going to disappear on me?”
“No! No - I -”
He throws his head into his hands.
“Steve - look me in the eyes and tell me this is still just an arrangement for you.”
A moment of silence passes - there it was, your cards laid on the table. Your heart was thudding in your chest, waiting for his answer.
He sighed, and looked over to meet your gaze. 
“Of course it isn’t.”
Your stomach flipped, and you felt like you were going to be sick - oh God -
“Then - what the fuck do we do?”
He shook his head.
“I - I don’t know,” he admitted. “I - I don’t know what the fuck is even going on. I told myself I wouldn’t get… attached, and now -”
You scoffed.
“What?” he asked.
“It’s just - attached? Like a fucking dog you found on the street and have to give back to its owners or something?”
“Well, what would you call it?”
You paused - you considered confessing everything, that you were past the point of falling for him. No, you couldn’t - you needed to keep that close to your chest, not give him the upper hand.
“Steve - maybe we should just end this,” you said, the words feeling like a knife to the chest as they left your mouth.
“What? No - I - I don’t want to -”
“Steve - you said it yourself - if we got any personal feelings, we would stop the whole thing, before it got too far - we’re only delaying the inevitable anyway -”
“Come back with me,” he blurted out.
You stop mid-sentence, eyes widening.
“I - what?”
“Come back to Chicago with me - we can just do it. I can take care of you -”
“Steve - I can’t -”
“Why not?”
You just laughed dryly.
“Because - I have a life here. I have friends, a semester left before I get my degree -”
“You won’t need to work if you -”
“You really don’t get it, do you? I want to finish school, actually achieve something, and do something that matters to me. I know, you look down on me as some downtrodden peasant or something -”
“No, that’s not it -”
“But I’m smart, and when I’m done with school - I may not be rich like you, but I’ll be able to work for a living, and actually support myself. I don’t want to just exist for you -”
“I didn’t mean that,” he said - you were both raising your voices again. “This summer…it’s the happiest I’ve been in a long time. Maybe ever, actually. I just - I want to help you -”
“Well stop! I don’t need you!” you screamed.
He went silent for a moment.
“That’s what Nancy said, too,” he said quietly.
You sighed, your heart breaking for him.
“Steve - I didn’t know -”
“Maybe there’s a reason,” he continued, staring down to avoid your gaze. “I mean - you’re right - I’m meant to be alone.”
“I never said that -”
“You didn’t have to.”
You both sat in silence for a moment, unable to say anything else.
“Steve - I’m sorry that this is where the night went. But… we both knew this was coming. I - I think we’re going to both get hurt if we try to keep it going.”
He nodded, shoulders sagging.
“You’re probably right.”
There it was. The moment you had been dreading. 
The silence was deafening - neither of you daring to look at one another, letting the weight sink in of everything just said. You were certain you were going to be sick. 
“I - I should probably give these back,” you said quietly, gesturing to the earrings and necklace. You reached up to take them off, but he gently placed his hand on yours to stop you.
“No - keep it. Keep everything.”
“Steve -”
“No - nothing that I gave you was a loan. It’s yours. Keep onto the credit card, too.”
“Steve - I can’t do that -”
“Sure you can. Only use it for emergencies, if it makes you feel better to do that. As long as you don’t go over the limit… it’s yours.”
You shook your head.
“I can’t -”
“Please,” he said, eyes pleading. “At least until you’re done with school - focus on your studies, I’ll take care of it.”
“But - I’m not giving you anything in return -”
“Doesn’t matter. I promised to help you with school, and - I’m a man of my word.”
You sighed with defeat.
“I - I think I should go.”
“Probably best,” he said coldly. You couldn’t even blame him for that.
You gathered your things quickly, pulling your dress back on. He rose to follow you to the door, pulling on his boxers as he went. He stood in the doorway as you left, his face stoic - was he angry? Or did he just feel nothing? Maybe the latter - you were in love… and he had grown attached, whatever that meant.
“I guess this is goodbye,” you whispered.
“I suppose so.”
He won’t look at you.
“Steve - you’re going to find someone someday who’s right for you, okay? Someone you’ll actually want to be with. Then you won’t need - you won’t need someone like me. You’ll forget all about this - I know you will.”
Something softened in his face, and he shook his head.
“I somehow doubt that.”
You stared down at the ground.
“I guess this is goodbye,” you murmured.
He nodded.
“I wouldn’t change any of it,” he said quietly.
You could actually feel your heart breaking, crackling and splitting like it was made of porcelain. You still avoided eye contact, afraid you’d cry if you looked at him.
“My car can take you home,” he added.  “I don’t want you taking the bus this late, okay?”
You nodded solemnly. As you turned to leave, he said one more thing that stopped you in your tracks.
“Wait - I just wanted to say -”
He stopped for a moment, running his hand through his hair as he took a deep breath.
“I wish you well.”
That was it - the final nail in the coffin. The end of a failed negotiation, a transaction. You nodded firmly, turning quickly on your heels and walking straight ahead to the elevator, refusing to look back at him.
The moment you slid into the car, you gave the driver your address and closed the privacy shield again. But now, it was so you could sob into your hands, feeling your heart break in half as you pulled away from his apartment for the last time.
author's note: hi everyone - sorry about this chapter. The next part will be the finale - plus, an epilogue. I'll probably just write those together and post them in quick succession. Don't panic - you guys know I don't like writing sad endings (or if I do, I leave massive warnings). So, hang tight - it's going to be okay. Please let me know your thoughts - comments, reblogs, and messages are always appreciated!
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keepingeahalive · 4 months
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Why Rapple Wouldn’t Work as a Couple
First off, let’s get this out of the way: Raven and Apple are not related. Well…more like distantly related, but to the point where any relation is almost nil. Raven is not destined to marry Apple’s father because Apple’s dad and Raven’s dad (The Good King) are two separate characters. Raven is only destined to be jealous of Apple and poison her. That is all.
Okay, on with the real debate.
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I'm probably gonna get a lot of hate for this, but I can't see Apple and Raven as a couple. While both of their arcs were about coming to accept each other, they weren't equal in their relationship. Raven made it clear to Apple many times that she felt disrespected, and Apple ignored that and pushed her own agenda on her. It may have come from a place of caring, but Apple didn't get Raven at all. I can see them working through their issues down the line, but their love story (if you can call it that) is better as platonic.
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Bulldozing and Passive Aggression
From the first episode, we can see that Apple immediately took control for both of them. She went behind Raven's back to room with her and decorated Raven's side of the room without her permission, all because Raven is an important part of "her" story.
Not their story. "Her" story.
Her friendship with Raven in the first three chapters was surface-level at best. She assumes what Raven wants instead of actually getting to know her, like when she decides to take "Home Evil-nomics" to get back at Raven for taking Princessology. But Raven's favorite class isn't Home Evil-nomics. It's Muse-ic.
We can see Raven trying to be patient with Apple because Raven is a good person. She doesn't want a repeat of what happened between Snow White and the Evil Queen. In fact, we see her other friends hide their concerns from Apple because they don't want to upset her.
When Ashlynn finally comes out about her relationship with Hunter, she's immediately met with Apple's dismay. Apple tells her several times that she's making the wrong decision, and it gets to Ashlynn so much that she chooses her friendship with Apple over her relationship with Hunter because she doesn't want everyone to be upset. Although Ashlynn decides to do what makes her happy, Apple still tells her outright that she's making the wrong choice.
Briar starts to feel the weight of her destiny sink in and, instead of being met with compassion and understanding, Apple tells Briar "we all have our part to play." While Briar rightfully calls her out for how privileged she is, it takes her three chapters and two more specials to admit to Apple that she was too scared to tell anyone that she didn't want to follow her destiny.
They both go behind Raven's back to poison a birthday cake she made for Apple just so she would stop crying about it.
Apple is the next Queen of Ever After, and she wants to take an active role in serving her people. But she thinks she knows what's best for everyone. If they don't do what she says, then there's something wrong and she has to fix them. Everyone enabled this behavior, except for Raven. This domination is what causes her and Raven's tension at the start of the series.
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2. Apple's Fears
Apple is a selfish character. But that selfishness is born of fear.
She believes going against her destiny means dying and being forgotten.
I believe she does care about her friends, in the same vein a God-fearing church-goer cares about the people in her community. She believes there is only one true way of staying safe: following your destiny. If you don't, something bad happens. And she has to remind you of that. She thinks she's helping people when she's really being insensitive and condescending. And this comes down the hardest on Raven.
Raven is the equivalent of someone who's become disillusioned with their faith. She's unhappy with the system she's been put in and she wants something better. That doesn't mean she's not afraid of what might happen if she does. She's terrified she might doom everyone at first. But taking a risk on Legacy Day and showing everyone they can live without following a predetermined path made her and others more hopeful that they could live better lives.
But Apple can't be convinced with one act of rebellion. She doubles down on her beliefs and blames Raven for ruining her Happily Ever After. She's so afraid of her future being uncertain that she would rather follow a status quo where someone she claims to care for is locked away for the rest of her life. You could argue that she doesn't understand that's what would happen, but she never bothered to understand Raven's perspective. Raven takes Apple's perspective in Thronecoming and considers the consequences of her actions. Raven cares about her friends too, so much that she's willing to put her happiness aside to keep them safe. Apple never once did that for her, or for any of her other friends.
This stems from Apple being promised the best destiny out of anyone. She'd go on to live a very prestigious life as Queen. But she's too naive to realize what that would mean for everyone else: Raven would be locked up for the rest of her life, Ashlynn would die to continue her legacy, and Briar would marry some random dude several decades younger than her and never see Apple or anyone she knew ever again. I understand that no one wants to lose the stability they've had their entire life. But she doesn't seem to understand how good she has it.
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3. Apple and Raven's Growth
Way Too Wonderland and Dragon Games gave us a lot in terms of character development. Apple and Raven have gotten to know each other better at this point. Even though they have their differences, they do care about each other.
Say what you will about Way Too Wonderland, but I do believe Apple has come to know Raven and is genuinely shocked and heartbroken when Raven finally signed the Storybook of Legends. She's come to care about who Raven really is, she knows Raven would never want to hurt anyone, and she realizes that destinies can be dangerous. I understand her main reasoning was that anyone could easily take someone else's destiny if they had the chance. But seeing what signing the book did to Raven frightened her. Destroying the book with Raven cemented a level of trust and understanding that Raven was longing for.
Which is what makes Dragon Games so heartbreaking.
Apple is a privileged little princess who was promised the best destiny one could expect. I don't think anyone would be all that happy about letting that go. It goes back to what she fears the most. She doesn't know what to do without her destiny. And with her mother only feeding into these insecurities, it allows Apple's doubts to resurface and for someone to take advantage of that.
Apple could have prevented releasing the Evil Queen. But she was too deep in her own cowardice to think clearly. Desperation will make people do anything, especially if promised a happy ending for you and everyone you love (maybe subconsciously hoping Raven would be her True Love). That doesn't excuse her freeing a war criminal who happens to be her best friend's estranged mother, thereby breaking her trust all over again. Raven had just started seeing Apple as someone she could depend on. That's gone now, and Raven had a right to be angry with Apple's selfishness and cowardice.
"But Apple realized her mistake and Raven forgave her in the end!" That's true, but that doesn't mean things are okay between them. Apple is still Raven's friend, and it's in Raven's character to forgive her. But I don't see her forgetting this experience any time soon. That trust would have to be built up all over again and, if you ask me, this ruled out any chance of them getting together romantically. I think Raven would need some time away from Apple to figure things out. Apple could use that time to figure herself out too, especially after figuring out it was Darling who woke her.
If that trust was able to be built back up again, hopefully they would have grown as people and learned to be better friends. But you can't expect this level of trust to be regained for a partnership.
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4. A One-Sided Romance
If Rapple were to be anything romantic, it would only come from Apple.
Apple was always obsessed with Raven. I do believe she wanted Raven to fulfill their destinies so they would both be safe, but was too selfish to consider how that would look from Raven's end. She never showed any interest in Daring and, while she enjoyed the admiration she got from other boys, never expressed interest in anyone else.
Except Raven.
So, yes. I do believe Apple was in love with Raven. But I can't see Raven returning those feelings. Apple always disregarded what she wanted, ignored her when she argued against her destiny, and continually tried to turn Raven into something she wasn't. Even after her much-needed character development in Way to Wonderland and Dragon Games, these two still don't have a good foundation of trust between them. If we had gotten more of the show, we might have seen some healing. And, in my opinion, that would include Apple learning to let go of Raven and focusing on her own growth as a person.
And maybe someone else...
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In all seriousness, Apple and Raven have a complicated relationship that I don't see working romantically. I know they have the most development together, and it would be an interesting take on the enemies-to-lover trope. But with how often Apple betrayed Raven's trust and how grounded and self-aware Raven is, I can't see them getting together.
I can see Raven being Apple's first crush, but the closest these two can get is sisters.
Because, you know, Raven has a boyfriend. It's Dexter. Say what you want about him, but they have a healthier relationship than Raven and Apple could ever have, romantic or not.
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undying-love · 2 months
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"I wish I hugged him all the time we were together"
Adam Buxton: I have a question from Louis Theroux. And he wants to know what your favorite Lennon song was from the Beatles era.
Paul McCartney: From the Beatles era, there’s a few. You know, they always ask you what’s your favorite song. But there’s a few. “Strawberry Fields Forever”, I love. “Across The Universe”, I love. “Julia, which is about the mom he couldn’t live with. [...] And then later from his post Beatles work, “Beautiful Boy”, about Sean, was, I think, a really great song. Now I can look back on it and think “God, what a lovely guy, how privileged was I to run into him in Liverpool”. And I think we’ve both felt the same about each other. Just really quite chance meeting. It was through a mate of mine that I met John. But it was by chance. It was no setup. We didn’t go to the same school, but I went to the same school as the guy who introduced us. So thinking back on it, I do think “Oh, God, we’re very lucky”. I was thinking the other day, I wish I just sat and hugged him all the time we were together. But as you know, Adam, that probably would be slightly out of line. But it’s the kind of thing you think, you know, what about that? But guys didn’t do that kind of thing where I’m from.
Adam Buxton: maybe that’s what alcohols are for…
Paul McCartney: (laugh) hugging a lot.
Adam Buxton: Enabling you to hug and be hugged.
Paul McCartney: Yeah, well, you know, I know what you mean.
Adam Buxton: It shouldn’t just be alcohol.
Paul McCartney: I know what you mean. And so you know what happens in later years, now looking back on it all. You just think of little things. You think “Ah, that’s why that happened” or whatever. Or you may just think “I’ll just sit around and hug him forever”, because that’s the depth of my feeling for him.
Source: https://www.the-paulmccartney-project.com/interview/paul-mccartney-on-the-adam-buxton-podcast/
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skzcre · 1 year
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Felix gives me piss kink vibes idk… 🫣maybe it’s just me
hmm … solid theory, anon. let me offer this as a rebuttal 👀
warnings: piss kink and other sexual themes, fembodied reader. little bit of perv!lix in there 😳, reader gets called “good bunny”.
it wasn’t unusual for you and felix to shower together. sometimes, it was the most effective thing to do during busy mornings where both of you definitely should’ve been out of the house 20 minutes ago but you slept through the alarm. other times, it was a means of being close.
both of you were very clingy, very needy, and enablers of each others baby behavior. sometimes neither of you want to let go, but you both know you need a shower before going to bed.
this was one of those times.
“y’know, we could’ve just taken a bath instead.” felix chuckles softly, sitting behind you with his arms wrapped firmly around your waist while you washed your legs. you responded with a simple shrug. “didn’t feel like standing.”
so you both were sat in the tub with the shower running overtop the both of you. “isn’t it nice to just lay down and let the water run over you?” you turned your head slightly to meet his eyes, a smile immediately growing on your face before giving a peck on his freckled cheek. he hummed in agreement, watching the droplets splatter across your chest. “‘s kinda like a sauna. we’re fucked if we fall asleep, though.” it wouldn’t have been the first time you both dozed off in a bathtub together.
a comfortable silence fell between the both of you after some small chattering about your daily happenings. the soap running off your body caused you to slip downward a bit, but it was the perfect position to rest on felix’s chest and soon after his pretty fingers began tracing patterns over your soft skin.
but then, as it always happened the second you got comfortable literally anywhere, you had to pee.
you grunted as you started to sit up and of course, felix’s grip on your waist got tighter. “mm, don’t wanna get out.” he whined, and you giggled before playfully smacking his arms. “i just gotta pee, lix.” your boyfriend began to sit up with you but he didn’t release his grip.
“i’m literally not leaving the bathroom—“
“you can just do it here.”
you turned your body a bit to look at him, searching his face for any signs that he was joking but you were instead met with a straight face. in fact, he was looking you directly in your eyes. the way he looked at you when he wanted you. and suddenly, your heart rate sped.
“n-not in front of you, that’s…embarrassing.”
now he was smiling, bringing a hand up to rub his thumb over your jaw. “this would definitely be very low on the list of embarrassing things we’ve done in front of each other.” well…that was true. felix will never not bring up the time you fell off while riding him in his gaming chair. or the time he came on your face and it accidentally shot up your nose and you were essentially snot rocketing cum for the rest of the night.
but this was different! wasn’t it?
“if you flush, the water’ll turn cold. and don’t you say you’ll flush when we get out because we both know you’ll forget.” goddamn him for knowing you so well. you let out a sigh you didn’t know you were holding for so long, turning forward again to lay back on his chest. “i…just. you don’t think it’s weird?”
felix shook his head, pulling you closer to rest his head on your shoulder. “i don’t mind.” his hand laid flat against your tummy, and you could swear he was ever so slightly pressing against it. maybe you were wrong? suddenly things started to feel really hazy, like you were floating in some kind of dream world. maybe it was the way he was staring so deeply into your eyes, or maybe it was his lips being so close to your ear. how he spoke softly, but just loud enough for you to hear him over the running water. your brain tried to weigh your options here, wanting to have a conversation with your body about what exactly was the “right” thing to do.
however, your bladder was having none of it.
you began to squirm just a bit, and felix began to pry your legs open, peering down at your lower region. he smiled, running his fingers over your inner thighs. “go ahead, baby.”
before you could begin to ask why he was staring so intently at…well, everything, a stream started flowing down the tub towards the drain. why did this feel so intimate? your hands quickly came towards your face in a feeble attempt to hide your face as if that was going to do much of anything.
an interesting look crossed felix’s face as he watched you. some kind of mixture of curiosity but also lust? something about the way you trembled in his arms before letting it out, the way you hid your face but let him open your legs to spectate. god, you were really cute. when did his brain decide this was so sexy? “good bunny. doesn’t that feel better?”
and now his fingers were trailing closer and closer to your core, finding a familiar wetness between your folds that caused his cock to twitch behind you.
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Lost in the moment (part 1)
Nico Rosberg x fem!reader
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Summary: Throughout her career as a motorsport journalist, (Y/N) has established a special relationship with Nico. But what happens when unfortunate circumstances keep her from being there for him during the most important moment of his career? (part 1 of 2)
Warnings: Other than some angst there isn't any, female reader
Note: Noticing the lack of Nico fanfiction, I've decided to turn my dreams into an actual story. No worries, there will be a second part!
Part 2: https://www.tumblr.com/mynicosensesaretingling/734355288476565504/lost-in-the-moment-part2
Hope you enjoy it <3
Life as a journalist was not exactly a quiet life, especially for (Y/N), who worked as a reporter live on location for a motorsport journal called Countdown Magazine. Having been a dream job for the young woman since childhood, however, the stress that came with working in the motorsport industry seemed only half as bad to her.
But this year, the atmosphere had changed as the intense rivalry between Nico Rosberg and Lewis Hamilton, known as the “Silver War”, had captivated the world of Formula 1. As a dedicated and well-reputed reporter, (Y/N) had secured herself, what you could call a front-row seat, which allowed her to immerse herself in the high-stakes drama that unfolded throughout the season and enabled her to follow every twist and turn with unwavering dedication.
However, even though the feud between the Mercedes drivers provided great headlines and stories, (Y/N) couldn’t help but feel tense whenever Lewis and Nico had a go at each other.
Having been covering the sport for multiple years now had created a closer bond between her and several of the drivers and none more so than Nico Rosberg. The German Mercedes driver had always struck (Y/N) as a fascinating character. 
Over the years, their paths had crossed countless times during press conferences, pit-lane interviews and post-race debriefs. She had covered his journey from the earlier days of his Formula 1 career, watching him develop from a promising talent into a championship contender. His approachability and genuine interest in connecting with those around him were what had set Nico apart from the other drivers. Beyond the professional facade, the driver was a thoughtful guy, cracking jokes, sharing gossip, discussing the intricacies of the sport, the pressures of competition and even personal anecdotes from his life. 
Before she knew it, (Y/N) had found herself staying behind after work, searching out any chance to connect with the German. It didn’t take long before he invited her to join him at whatever he was planning on doing next, be it a walk around the track, getting something to eat or simply hanging around the paddock. Each time she accepted his offer the unique bond between them grew stronger, forging a friendship that transcended the typical reporter-athlete dynamic.
"Sometimes I really wonder why you spend so much time with me." the young reporter once mused, resting her chin on her hand as she leaned against the counter. Nico, who was standing next to her at the whirring coffee machine, shrugged his shoulders calmly, "I have to make sure I'm always presented in the best light. After all, we don't want any scandalous headlines or such, do we?." his cheeky laughter was quickly interrupted when (Y/N)'s foot found his shin. "Ouch." the blond man exclaimed overdramatically, pointing at her with his silver spoon in an accusing manner, but his narrowed eyes were sparkling playfully. "I swear one day I'm going to lose my ability to drive because of you. And then we'll both be out of a job." (Y/N) couldn't help but laugh at his antics. "There are plenty of other Formula 1 drivers I could report on." "Mhm." Nico was nodding while picking up his cup from the coffee machine. "But apparently these drivers must be boring as hell, otherwise you wouldn't be spending so much time with me." He winked at her whilst stirring his coffee, getting an eye-roll from (Y/N) in response. "Oh come on, I know you love me." Nico chuckled. "Oh shut up," the young woman laughed, waving her hand in a dismissive manner, purposefully ignoring the way her heart skipped a beat.
One of (Y/N)’s favourite memories, which she had made in her friendship with Nico, was when after a long, rainy qualifying day and countless press conferences, the driver had waited for her in the pitlane, an umbrella in his right hand as he wordlessly motioned for her to join him with his free one. “It’s raining.” she had expressed, pulling her jacket tighter around her body in hesitation, eyes darting to the dark clouds above. “And I have an umbrella.” Nico had simply countered matter-of-factly, shaking the umbrella for emphasis, scrunching his nose as his gesture led cold droplets to land on his face. (Y/N) suppressed a laugh, finding the sight utterly adorable. “I can’t just leave you standing there in the rain, can I?” her voice was filled with amusement, as she mustered the man, before quickly making her way over to Nico. “I mean,” he chuckled, as she ducked under his umbrella “You definitely could, but I’d find it incredibly rude.” (Y/N) huffed a laugh, linking her arm with his. “Well, how kind of me to join you then.” She hummed, eyes fixed onto the moon’s reflection in one of the puddles below. “ What are we doing anyways ?” she raised her brow, looking up at him with curiosity. Nico turned his head, a sparkle in his eyes. “We’ve never walked a track at night before, so I figured we’d make it a first. And now that I am thinking about it, I don’t think we’ve ever walked in the rain before either.” his gaze turned mischievous as he shook the umbrella once again, sprinkling water into both of their faces. A hearty chuckle left his lips as he watched (Y/N) scrunch her nose, just like he had done earlier.  “Why did you even bother getting an umbrella?” (Y/N) huffed lightheartedly, as she wiped her face with her sleeve. “Cause I know you wouldn’t have joined me without one.” he grinned down at her before pulling her along with him. That night, as Nico and her had spent several hours walking the moonlit track, sharing an umbrella and conversing about everything and nothing, is when (Y/N) had realized that her feelings for the Mercedes driver went far beyond friendship.
In the current tense situation, moments like these were not lost on the pair, but they were becoming increasingly infrequent. With the championship-deciding race approaching, (Y/N) could feel the pressure on Nico becoming stronger by the minute. Being on the brink of realizing his lifelong dream of becoming a Formula 1 World Champion and stepping into the footsteps of his father had led to several sleepless nights thinking about the sacrifices and the relentless pursuit of excellence that had brought him to this pivotal moment. And on top of that, Nico’s biggest rival was his own teammate and best friend, Lewis Hamilton. 
Especially now that the relationship with his childhood friend was slowly but surely coming to an end, Nico found himself drawn to (Y/N)’s presence, even more so than usual. Amongst this utter mess, which he found himself in, she was his lifeline and he clung to it like a desperate sailor lost at sea. 
Particularly in the days leading up to the race, Nico was confiding in the woman about his innermost fears and ambitions, trusting her as someone who genuinely understood the intricacies of the sport and its impact on his life. She, in turn, had found herself awaiting his late-night calls, admiring his determination as she listened to him rambling about whatever was occupying his mind, her heart filling with a sense of pride whenever she’d hear a faint chuckle from Nico as she managed to bring some lightheartedness and humour to their conversations.
"You'll be okay," she would say to him in a gentle voice, "you've always managed so far." On the other end of the line, the driver would sigh, "But it's never been like this before." His voice was weary and full of thoughtful despair. "And in the future, it will never be like this again." she would say with a shurg, her empathetic smile practically audible through the phone. "So try to enjoy as many of these moments as you can." There was a pause before Nico gave a breathless chuckle, "Oh man, what would I do without you?"
On the day of the race, as Nico prepared for taking on the track, he couldn't help but think of (Y/N) and how she had supported him over the last few weeks, reassuring him and quite literally keeping him sane as the situation within his team steadily deteriorated.
His blue eyes scanned the area outside of the Mercedes garage. Unable to spot his friend in any of the spots she’d usually be in, Nico approached one of the stewards. “Hey, sorry,” he tried to sound nonchalant  “Have you seen the Countdown crew?” his eyes nervously flitted around the paddock, before landing back on the steward. “Countdown Magazine? No, I don’t think I have seen them anywhere on the track today.” the older man answered, a rough hand scratching away at his beard. “Thank you.” Nico shortly nodded, before abruptly turning on his heels and making his way back into the garage with tense shoulders. (Y/N)’s absence from the paddock weighed heavily on his mind. She had promised him to be there today and she’d usually come in amongst the first wave of reporters. Why wasn’t she there yet? Nico combed his fingers through his hair , lost in thought. Shaking his head, he felt his team’s eyes on his form. She’d surely be at the paddock in no time, he thought,  deciding that for now, it would do him better to focus on the race and his strategies, in order to secure the championship.
What Nico didn't know, however, was that just mere moments before the gates to the paddock were opened, the boss of Countdown Magazine had abruptly fired  (Y/N) at short notice. 
With her heartbeat pounding in her ears, the only thing the young journalist had been able to understand through the speaker of her cell phone was that the magazine needed a “breath of fresh air” and therefore had decided to get rid of their motorsport department in the composition in which it had existed until then…or something like that. (Y/N) wasn't entirely sure, as she was overcome with panic as her thoughts flew straight to Nico.
Just the night before, she had promised him on the phone that she would never miss the most important race of his career and now she was sitting in her hotel room, unemployed, with no access to the paddock and no way to get a ticket to the race because the tickets had already sold out weeks ago. 
Had a champion of misfortune been crowned that night, she was sure that no one would have been able to deprive her of that victory. Shaky fingers dialled Nico's number, which she by now knew better than she did her own, the cheap wood of the hotel bed creaking as (Y/N)'s leg bobbed up and down in unease. With each ring of the call, her breath caught in her throat. The ex-reporter knew the driver too well by now to have expected him to use his cell phone so close to the race, but what other option did she have? She pressed the phone to her ear for a few more moments, each second more painful than the last, wide eyes staring blankly at the F1 broadcast on her TV screen. It was only when the drivers left their garages to get into formation that she dropped the cell phone from her ear and threw it onto the mattress behind her with a loud "Fuck!", followed by a strangled sob whilst desperate fingers pulled at her hair. 
As the race unfolded, the tension in the air was palpable. Nico and Lewis were locked in a fierce battle for the championship and every corner, every lap, seemed to carry the weight of each driver’s dreams. When Nico finally crossed the finish line , securing his victory, he felt a mix of euphoria and disbelief. After this particularly demanding season, he could finally breathe a sigh of relief, having  fulfilled his life-long dream of winning a World Driver’s Championship title.
The moment Nico stepped onto the podium to accept the championship trophy, he couldn’t help himself but to scan the crowd of reporters, still hoping to catch a glimpse of (Y/N). She had to be there, after all that’s what she had promised him. Yet, his friend still remained conspicuously absent. 
Nico held the coveted trophy high, the cheers of the crowd a deafening roar, as he smiled down at the sea of people. But even with a championship in hand and hundreds of people celebrating his achievement, there was a strange feeling of emptiness within his heart. As the champagne sprayed and the crowd celebrated, Nico's emotions were a turbulent mix of exhilaration and confusion. He couldn't help but wonder why (Y/N) hadn't been there smiling up at him, especially when she had been a constant presence throughout not only the season, but the majority of his career. The absence of his friend was like a splinter in his heart, casting a faint shadow over what should have been the most triumphant moment of his career. 
Meanwhile, (Y/N) watched the race unfold from her hotel room, fresh tears welling up in her eyes. The news of her abrupt departure from her reporting career had come as a shock, and she had fought bitterly against it. Her job had been her passion, and Formula 1 was her life. To be denied the opportunity to report on the championship-deciding race, and more importantly to support Nico in his most crucial moment, was a heartbreak she struggled to bear.
As she witnessed Nico celebrating his victory, the realization of her absence was a painful weight on both her shoulders and her mind. She had been forced to watch her friend reach the pinnacle of his career from a distance, unable to share this moment of glory with the man who had unknowingly stolen her heart. The tears she shed were a mixture of pride for her friend and a deep sense of sorrow for her own situation. 
Back at the race track, Nico's initial reaction, unaware of the circumstances behind his friend’s absence, was one of betrayal. Finding himself being swarmed by countless reporters fighting for even the smallest of chances to get a word from the freshly crowned champion, he couldn’t help the bitterness he began to feel towards (Y/N). If all of these random journalist could have turned up, then why couldn’t his dearest friend do the same for him. The longer Nico thought about it, the more he questioned his relationship with (Y/N), something which he had valued so highly up until that very moment. 
She hadn’t just used him to boost her journalism career, had she? As much as he wanted to shake the thought, the champion couldn’t stop the idea of having been used solely for thrilling stories and eye-catching headlines to consume him, clouding his mind as the pain of having been abandoned by the woman, whom he had opened himself up to, right when he needed her most, sank in. 
His heart was clouded by hurt, and the insufferable ache of believing he had been manipulated by someone he had grown to trust and even developed some sort of feelings for was something he didn't know whether he could cope with.
How could a person whom he valued so highly and would give anything for, be so selfish and leave him standing there like that, clutching his fulfilled lifelong dream in his hand and yet still feeling a hole in his heart. Had his feelings really blinded him to such an extent that he hadn't realized (Y/N)'s true nature, or had his heart perhaps never wished to recognize it in the first place ?
“Mr.Rosberg!” the shout of his name pulled the driver out of his thoughts. Blinking, his eyes travelled up the arm currently shoving a microphone into his face, before settling on the face of the reporter, whose red lips were pulled into an impatient smile. “I am sorry, I didn’t quite catch your question.” he mindlessly gestured around with his hand, hoping to come across as if he really hadn't caught the question in the bustling scenery. 
He raised his brows, a half-heartedly apologetic smile on his lips as he kept his attentive eyes on the reporter while waiting for her to repeat what she had just asked. The reporter laughed in a put-on fashion and Nico had to wrestle with himself to refrain from rolling his eyes.
"So," the woman thrust the microphone even further into his face, "I'd be really interested to know whether there was anyone who helped you get through this difficult season, or whether it was all down to you?" Almost immediately the driver put on the mask of a cocky smile. "No, all of that was entirely down to me and I dare say I managed pretty darn well." Nico’s hair bobbed as he nodded towards his trophy. His smile grew painful as he was intent on ignoring the extent of the lie he had just told and the pang of pain, that the conscious erasure of his relationship with (Y/N) caused deep within his core.
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classpectpokerap · 2 months
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gonna go completely insane for a second here.
was thinking about mspar. who will obviously not. appear in hsbc. bc it makes almost no thematic sense for that to happen
but like… i made a connection. that i want to talk about.
mspar in pq is defined by two things, early on
really, really, really fucking hating the direction the epilogues took the "story", and wanting to take it into their own hands to fix it.
like, the imagery about this being a Bad Thing is pretty unsubtle. in the prologue, mspar literally tramples over homestuck panels, crushing them underfoot. and by the end of pq, what they have done isnt just create a new timeline where "everyone is happy," they've overwritten homestuck to do it. theyve Literally retconned the story and replaced it with their fanon ideas of how to "fix" things. that's why ultdirk and the director have to come and tell you that it needs to stop.
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there's a lot more about mspar's actions in pq being like… pretty unambiguously villain shit, in my reading, but thats a sort of separate ramble to what i wanted to be insane about (let me know if you want me to ramble about. mspar being the bad guy. another time.)
basically. mspar's design looks a hell of a lot like doc scratch. obviously. theyre both round-headed narrators.
doc scratch's textbox is literally just mspar's inverted. theyre foils, in a sense. scratch enables canon while hurting everyone to do it, and mspar enables fanon (…while hurting everyone to do it, differentways.)
and that got me thinking like. a lot of this description i just wrote applies to another character too.
someone in the text who was introduced as a reader of the stories of the heroes, as an author of fanfiction and fanart
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though, obviously meat and candy calliope are accounted for. it's not literally that mspar is calliope. besides, its not even like calliope wears a similar hooded black outfit to them, or makes a huge fucking deal about loathing the complexity of postcanon,
hey wait a minute
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and theyve got a lot in common. even beyond the superficial. for example, they both just. appoint themself as the guardian of their timeline, because they have to "fix" homestuck. (whether the characters in homestuck want this or not.)
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jade harley literally tells *both characters* "well, what if we don't want your protection!!!! why won't you leave us alone!" and then they just sorta ignore her wishes
and the connection keeps going. like. mspar and altcallie have both stood outside of the green sun with aradia and absorbed a canon into themself so they can rewrite it.
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this extremely specific thing they have in common!!!! kinda fucked up!!!!!!
like, im not saying this because i literally think mspar is going to crack their head open and reveal altcallie a la Lord English in that intermission.
but THEMATICALLY.
they have a lot in common.
way more than i realized until literally two days ago!
like mspar is LITERALLY another narrator at least on the scale of ultdirk and doc scratch and the like and LITERALLY ALL OF THEM ARE VILLAINS shdashjfhasfhsajdhgashfkgshjdgsdfgsdhjg. there is stuff to think about.
(conspiracy brain.) and of all the outfits mspar wore in friendsim, it's specifically the black hoodie up that they got sprites for….
anyway.
obviously pesterquest and hsbc werent referencing each other because the second one did not exist yet.
but like! i think theres something there. in terms of da Themes and Motifs.
(if there are more close readings of pq, id be SUPER curious to find em :3)
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justmeinadaze · 3 months
Text
My Little Man (Steddie X You) (Part of HFOD and SS Universe)
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A/N: I guess you guys would call this season 3? Lol. My angst hella took over as well as some feelings I've been dealing with lately.
Enjoy please <3.
Part of this Universe
Warnings: Demon Steddie & Human Fem Reader, No SMUT in this one, FLUFF, they love each other and their son. Demon Steddie is navigating how to be human while taking care of a pregnant Y/N.
ANGST: More or less the normal level of angst that comes with this series. The theme is grief and PTSD (from a soldiers perspective). Y/N is still struggling with the notion of her parents not being there to see Ellis grow up and the guys (especially Steve) is struggling with being raised how they were and taught to fight. Eddie struggles with feelings of enabling because of everything they went through.
The dreams probably have the most feels. They talk to their loved ones and Ellis says goodbye. Steve has nightmares that involve his dad being a dick (of course) and something that happens within one angers Eddie (blood briefly mentioned).
Word Count: 6398
"Don't you know I love you more than life itself Don't you know that you're my pride And I would not have you walking through this world Without me by your side
Go to sleep my little man Don't you weep my little man"
3 Months Pregnant
Steve sits on the bench outside of the library he had just exited from, sighing heavily as he closed his eyes and threw his head back.
Ever since the three of you got home, he and Eddie had been doing research on which human job they would best be suited for in your realm but were struggling to find much of anything. For him, it was even more difficult since he was raised to be a solider. He genuinely didn’t know how to do anything else and it didn’t help that even though you explained a lot of human behavior, he still felt slightly ignorant with many things. 
“May I sit?” The demon jumped at the sound of a gravelly voice beside him. “Oh, shit. Sorry, son. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“No, it’s alright. Um, please.”, he gestures towards the area beside him causing the man to flash him a thankful grin as he takes a seat. 
“How long?”
“I’m sorry?”
“I asked how long. I know the look of a fellow veteran trying to figure out how to adapt to a civilian lifestyle. How long has it been since you saw combat?”
“Oh, uh, it’s…it’s been a few years. But I did it the bulk of my life.”
“I can imagine with you being so young. I bet one of your parents was a solider as well?”
“Wow. Yeah, that’s amazing. How did you…?”
“I told you, son. I know the look.”, the man chuckles as he extends his hand. “Truman Duvall; Ex Lieutenant Colonel in the United States Army.”
“Steven Harrington. Um, Sergeant in the US Army. Well, Ex.”, Steve laughs nervously as he hopes his memory of things he’s learned about humans in the past is still up to date.
“Nice to meet you. If I may ask, what were you thinking so hard about specifically?”
“My girlfriend is pregnant and I’m trying to find a job so I can help support my family. I want my son to have a better life then I did but I have no idea where to start.”
“Congratulations on the little bundle! I have four myself, two of them grown and out of the house already. My wife pretends like she’s glad they’re out but she misses them.”, he laughs. “I don’t know if you would be willing but down the street here, we have a recreation center where veterans go to relax and let loose. They’ve been looking for a counselor to lead the group therapy. I think you’d be a good fit.”
“Yeah? Um, I guess I could…”
“Look, you don’t even have to make a decision right now. Why don’t meet me there tonight? We’re having a little party get together thing. Of course, you can bring the girlfriend and you both can meet the person in charge. See if you feel comfortable.”
“O-Ok. I, um…” Steve pauses as he debates on if he should tell the truth about Eddie. That was a fight they had when it came to going home. He had been afraid that they would have to hide their relationship and he never wanted to hide or be hidden when it came to the man he loved. But this is also where he wanted to raise his son and he didn’t want to cause a commotion before you four even had a chance to settle in. What would Eddie do?
“Can I bring my boyfriend as well? He’s a veteran to. We actually met during our tour.”
Truman’s mouth pouted out ever so slightly as his eyebrows lifted in surprise. 
“Oh, um, sure! The more the merrier.”
***
“Steven, oh my God, that’s amazing!”, you exclaim as you wrap your arms around his neck. “I’m so happy for you.”
“Hang on, now. I don’t have a job yet but…”
“Don’t sell yourself short, bud.”, Eddie grins from his place on the kitchen counter. 
“I hope it’s ok that I kind of…announced…our relationship. We actually didn’t talk about what we wanted to do but I know if we had stayed in our realm I’d want to be honest.”
The long-haired demon opened his arms and Steve promptly placed himself between his legs with his back against his chest while Eddie rested his chin on his shoulder. 
“I’m glad you did. I love you and I’m not hiding that.”
“Me either.”, you smiled as they beamed right back. 
Suddenly, the happiness drains from your face before you turn and bolt towards the bathroom. You three had been home for a couple of months and within the past week some of the normal symptoms of pregnancy began springing up such as the morning sickness you were currently experiencing. 
“It’s alright, baby. Get it all out.”, Eddie tries to sooth as he holds your hair into a makeshift ponytail. As soon as you were finished, you fell back into his arms and thanked Steve when he handed you a bottle of water. 
“This is normal, right? Humans get nauseas like this.”, he asked. 
“Yeah, honey. It’s normal. I’m alright. I think I’m going to take a nap so I can be 100% for tonight.”
“Y/N, you don’t have to go.”
“No, Steve, I want to go. I want to see where you’ll be and the people you’ll be around.”
################
“Steve! You made it.”, Truman shouts excitedly as he reaches out to shake the boy’s hand. “You must be the girlfriend.”
“Hi. I’m Y/N.”
“Y/N. What a beautiful name for a beautiful woman and this is your…boyfriend? Right, son?”
“Yes, sir. This is Edward.”
“It’s nice to meet you. Steve said you’re a veteran as well. Were you a sergeant like himself?”
“Oh, uh, no. I was more of a private I guess you’d say. But we spent a lot of time together especially on the battlefield.”
“Wow and for you two to still be so close and find a relationship through all that chaos! That’s amazing. I always tell my wife if she met me during my tour she would have hated me. A lot of civilians don’t understand the headspace you have to fall into to do what we have to do.”
Both demon’s nod in understanding and you can’t help but softly smile as you watch them interact with the other people around them. Steve was definitely in his element and you could tell in some way he felt more comfortable in this setting because he was around beings who seemed to understand what they both went through. As his new friend spoke, his eyes remained intense and focused as he absorbed everything he said. 
Eddie excused himself to grab some drinks but became distracted talking to another couple and began to laugh at something they were saying. The first time you met him he expressed a particular distain for humans but he seemed to open up more since they were freed, finding something interesting in each person he interacted with. 
“Hey, this is my girlfriend Y/N.”, he introduces when you walk over to check on him. “Y/N, this is Lisa and Shawn Bennett. Lisa did a tour in the Air Force flying jets and Shawn was a DJ overseas.”
“Oh wow. For the military or just on your own?”
“For the military. I’m kind of like that Cronauer guy they made the movie about. I read the reports and played music I thought would lift the troops spirits.”, the man explains. 
“Kind of like me.”, Eddie whispers in your ear making you smile. “What do you two do now if I may ask? Steve and I have been searching for employment but we have no idea what would fit us.”
“Well, I actually own a store of my own selling books and comics; things like that. I’m a bit of a nerd.”, Lisa laughs. 
“And I teach media and music courses at the local community college up here.”
“That sounds like a lot of fun actually. Are they looking for another music teacher because Eddie is an amazing musician.”
“Yeah? Unfortunately, they aren’t but you should consider maybe starting your own business as well. You can teach kids to play guitar or any other instruments you know and you can do it from your house or maybe the music store downtown is hiring.”
“Are you looking for a job to, Y/N? I’m trying to hire someone to help me with my shop.”, Lisa offers with a smile. 
“Oh, I’d love that. I’m, uh, I’m actually pregnant though and I wouldn’t want to leave you stranded after you just hired me.”
“That’s fantastic! Don’t even worry about it. You don’t seem very far along yet. I can teach you the ropes before you give birth and that way when you come back, you’ll already know what to do!”
As you glance at Eddie, his eyes widen with encouragement as he nods his head. 
“Ok, I’d love to work for you.”
Lisa claps and gives you a big hug as your demon beams behind you.
***
“Hello fellow veterans, spouses, and partners! Glad you could all join us tonight. I hope you are having some much needed fun! I do have just a quick announcement to make. I would like to introduce you to Steven Harrington who is new to Hawkins and after speaking with him I feel like he will be a great addition to our center here as the group counselor.” The man at the podium smiles as he gestures towards the demon and everyone around the room claps. “Steve, why don’t you introduce yourself?”
When he hesitates, you gently push him forward, urging him softly before he relents and nervously climbs up the makeshift stage. 
“Um, hi. Sorry, it’s been a while since I’ve been seen by so many people.” The people chuckle as you and Eddie grin knowingly. “Like Thomas said, I’m, uh, new to Hawkins but my girlfriend is from here and my partner and I thought it would be better for her to be back home where she felt safe with her family so we can start raising our own. I-I-I…shit I used to better at this.”, he chuckles before glancing your way, your gentle smile comforting him. 
“I was raised in a military household. My dad was a solider so that’s what I was expected to be. As soon as I was able, he handed me a weapon and commanded I train to be the best. There was no wiggle room there. It was all or nothing. When I saw war…I shut down and did what I had to. I took no pleasure in killing, contrary to popular belief.”
“The worst part about shutting down that way was how it flowed into my every day. I was as an asshole to everyone including women I dated and people I trained… except for some of the people closest to me…Robin, Chrissy, and Eddie. When Edward and I got out…I felt so out of control…so lost. I lost my identity and everything I knew. If I didn’t have him by my side… Then we met Y/N and without her we literally wouldn’t be here today.”
Steve paused, looking out into the crowd, and realizing he may be talking too much. 
“Sorry. I’m sorry. Thank you so much for this opportunity and I’ll do whatever I can to help.”
The people in the room clap as he steps off the stage and you immediately wrap your arms around his waist as Eddie lightly caresses his cheek. 
***
4 Months Pregnant
You beam at Eddie as he softly strums his instrument. That day after Shawn suggested it, he went down to the music store in town and applied for the job as a guitar instructor. After playing and showing off for them he got the job. He loved hearing the kids try and play reminding him of the children he watched over with Steve during their war. 
Today was everyone’s day off so they were being lazy in bed with you in your pajamas and both demons in nothing but their sweats. 
“Ok, this thing here says for humans you should be feeling him move around now.”, Steve announced as he gestured towards the book he was reading. 
“I haven’t felt him move yet unless the occasional nausea is him saying hello.”, you giggle. Leaning over him, you grab his hand and place it on the middle of your stomach. “Talk to him.”
“Uh, I…hey, Ellis. It’s, um, your daddy. I’m not scaring him with my voice, right?”
“No, baby.”, you grin as you pet his head. “This is how he’ll get used to it though. Hearing and seeing you both in your demon form.”
“Buddy, you have no reason to be afraid of us in any form. I’m sorry your dads aren’t as beautiful as you and your mom but—”
“Hey, speak for yourself.”, Eddie teases making you laugh. “I’m a sexy motherfucker.”
“Oh.”
“What?”, Steve’s eyes shift up excitedly. 
“You didn’t feel that?”
When he shakes his head, you place his hand closer to the side you felt movement, gesturing for the other demon to do the same.
“Say something else.”
“Hey Ellis. This is your other daddy and I assure you we are very handsome.”
“Holy shit.”, Steve exhales as he grins up towards his partner. “That’s amazing.”
“I’m glad you agree, kid.”, Eddie smiles.
***
6 Months Pregnant
Eddie growls at the crib he was trying to assemble as his glowing red eyes glare at the instructions again. Over these past couple of months, you three had made your dad’s old room your bedroom and begun shifting the room you used to sleep in into Ellis’s. 
Going off his personality from your dreams, you painted the room blue with images of guitars along the base boards and up along the ridges of the ceiling. Near where his crib would be, you put up pictures of everyone in his family that loved him including Robin, Wayne, Dustin, and everyone who had passed that he had been conversing with these past six months. 
The boys were able to get everything a baby would need from your realm but also from theirs including those books that Eddie had wrote and some toys demons normally played with at a young age. 
“Whoever invented these contraptions should be tortured for eternity.”, Eddie grunted as he tried again putting a few of the pieces together. 
“You guys don’t have cribs in your realm?” 
“Yeah but they were like boxes essentially. Or at least mine was. I’m sure Steven had gold porcelain or some shit.”
“No.”, Steve chuckled as he took the wrong part from his partner’s hand and handed him the correct one. “I had a regular little wooden thing with soft blankets.”
“I wish I could see what you two were like as kids.”
Since they left Maeve, they weren’t able to snap memories into your head like they were before. It hurt them more than you because you always seemed curious about them and they wished they could show you everything from their point of view, not Henry’s or Mirage’s. 
“How much did Mirage show you?”
“She showed me big events more than anything. Steve always looking for his parents especially your mom. She did play sword fight with you once and you looked so happy until your dad yelled at her for ‘ruining your training’.” You rolled your eyes as Steve pet your head and sighed. “Eddie, I did see what your uncle told me about with your mom singing to you.” The demon’s glow receded in his eyes as he glanced your way with a small smile. 
“Until my father told her to shut up?”
Tilting forward, you crawled over his work to kiss his lips making his smile widen as he caressed your face. 
“What about your parents, honey?”
“Both my parents were amazing. My dad always loved to make us laugh. He liked being a girl dad and my mom exploited that.”, you giggle. “She would make him wear tutus while I would do his makeup and they both would dance.”
A tear left your eyes and both demons promptly gave you their attention. 
“I’m sorry you guys don’t have your parents here. You both deserve better.”
“Baby, it’s ok—”
“Eddie it’s not okay.”
“Will you let me finish?”, he jokes. “It’s ok because I had my mom and I had Wayne. Then as I got older I got my other family. Steven, Robin, Chrissy, and even Dustin. Now, sweetheart, I have you two and Ellis. I couldn’t be happier.”
“I agree. I’m thankful for the memories I do have with my mom but the kids I trained and beings I fought with…that was my family. I’m so excited to see what’s in store for us, you know. See what Ellis is going to do with his life.”
You smiled as you kissed their lips before you wince and lean away. 
“Ow. Little butthead is kicking my side.”
“Hey, kid.”, Eddie teases as he tilts towards your tummy. “Why don’t you stop hurting your mother and come help me make your torture technic of a crib.”
###############
8 months Pregnant
You, Steve, and Eddie walked into the house you three had been in so many times these last few months except now it was completely empty. All the furniture and everything was completely absent as you entered the living room full of people.
“Ellis?”
Everyone in the room moved out of the way to where Eddie’s mom was hugging her grandson to her chest as he sobbed. 
“I don wanna go!”
“You have to, baby. Your mommy and daddies need you now. They’ve been waiting so long to see you.”
“Mom?”, Eddie asked as he stepped towards her. “What’s going on?”
She softly smiled as she handed him to your father who spun him around as he chuckled but your son just buried his face further in his neck. 
“Come on, little guy. Your parents have made you an awesome bedroom and knowing my daughter she’s going to show you so many amazing things.”
The little boy shook his head as your dad kissed his temple before handing him to your mom. 
“Steven, remember, you once told me that everything would be ok and you were right. I’ve watched you both take care of my baby and I assure you, you both are going to be more than ok. You are going to be amazing parents.”
He beamed at him as he wrapped his arms around the demon and pulled him in for a hug. 
Your mother grinned as she reached out to touch your face as you started to cry. 
“I’m scared to do this without you.”, you whisper. 
Your parent’s smiles widen as she kisses her grandson and places him in your arms. 
“We’re not going anywhere. We’re always right here.”, she soothes as she points to Ellis’s forehead. “Right behind that door, honey.”
“I love you.”, you son coos as each grandparent reciprocates his affection. 
As both your demons come to your side, you look down to no longer see a toddler but a newborn baby wiggling in your arms. Steve gently pets his head as Eddie reaches for his tiny hand that immediately clings to his finger. 
All of your eyes shoot open but yours is followed by a grunt as you place your hands on your stomach. 
“Fuck! I think…”
They don’t waste any time as they collect you and your things before rushing towards the hospital. 
***
“How long are they going to keep him back there?”, Eddie growled as he held your hand.
“Calm down. Y/N said this was normal. They need to clean him, check his vitals, and all that.”
“Yeah, but Steven, what if something comes up in those vitals that frightens a human.”
The other demon’s eyes flash red in warning in his direction as a low rumble leaves his chest. 
“Maybe we should have had him in your realm.”, you respond groggily as your heavy eyes shift their way. 
“Baby, don’t let Edward scare you, ok? He’s fine. He’s got more human in him right now than anything. Dustin said he would grow into his demon parts.”
“He also said we’re the first couple ever to do this so…”
“Edward Munson, I swear—“, Steve’s anger was cut short when the door to your hospital room opened and a nurse casually sauntered in.
“Hey Munson-Harrington family.”, she smiles. “We have little Ellis here fast asleep and everything looks good. Mommy, how are you feeling?”
“Like I gave birth.” The nurse laughs at your joke as your demons roll their eyes. “I’m alright. A bit exhausted.”
“Yeah, that’s normal, sweetheart. Good news is your baby is in perfect health. Would you like to meet him?” Your eyes fully open as you sit up, smiling softly when she places him in your arms.  “I’ll come check on you three in a bit.”
Tears start to fall as you fully take him in. Right now, he seemed like a completely normal child with soft skin and just a sliver of brown hair poking out of his blue beanie. 
“Hey, honey. You’re so handsome. I’m your mommy.”, you coo in a whisper as you kiss his forehead. “Oh my god, he smells so good.”, you laugh as you look their way. 
Eddie was the first to step forward, sitting beside you on the bed as he caressed his son’s chubby little cheek with his finger. 
“Holy shit. He’s so soft.”, he breathes. “You’re perfect, kid.”
Steve finally takes a seat as well and reaches out to feel his tiny hand. 
“He’s warm to. Is that normal?” When you nod, he almost breathes a sigh of relief. “Ellis, we’re your daddies. You ARE perfect, oh my god.”
The baby squirms a bit in your hold giving them pause before pulling away. 
“I think that was his way of saying thank you.”, you smile. 
###########
3 Weeks Old
“Fascinating.”, Dustin muses as he rocks Ellis in his arms while swaying around the living room. “He really does look just like a little human with the soft skin and everything. Nothing has stood out?”
“Can you stop analyzing our baby and just enjoy him?”, Eddie snaps as he sighs. 
“No, nothing.”, you giggle, answering his question. “And so far he seems to eat but not as much as normal babies.”
“How so?”
“Babies are supposed to eat every two hours; we’ve been feeding him every six. I was worried at first but we just took him the doctor and she said he was healthy. When I tried to give him a bottle every two he would cry and push at my hands.”
“Interesting. That has to be hard, Y/N. Him not being able to verbally tell you things like that. I hated when my kids cried in general but you…you still have that whole trial and error thing going.”
Glancing towards your demons, Eddie had fallen asleep with his head nestled in Steve’s lap on the couch who was already napping when Dustin arrived. 
“It is. I appreciate everything you’ve done for us though and I know they do to. I’ve been keeping a record like you suggested should this ever happen for anyone else.”
“Good.” When he notices your gaze shift again, he takes a seat on the floor beside you and lays Ellis on the blanket between you both. “Everything ok with you three?”
“Yeah, I’m just a little worried. They were both already so protective over me and now that he’s here… Steve’s been having nightmares. He pretends he doesn’t but I hear him groaning in his sleep and feel him wake up. I asked him the other night if he still has access to my dreams and he said he can’t find the door anymore.”
A tear fell down your check as Dustin reached out to comfort you. 
“As I’m sure you’ve noticed, Eddie’s attitude has been a lot shorter lately. He’s exhausted and worried about the three of us. He triple checks everything to the point that I find him asleep on the floor by Ellis’s crib because he’s too tired to make it back to our bed and would just rather be closer to his son just in case.”
“What about you? Besides the worry I mean.”
“I know I’m probably being paranoid but sometimes I feel like we’re being watched. It may just be because of our dynamic. I know not everyone is excepting like the new friends we’ve made but no one has said anything… I don’t know. Just…mom brain maybe.”
“Hm, maybe. Keep an eye on that. From what you’ve told me, you’re always pretty intuitive. Wouldn’t want to miss something you know?”
#########
5 Weeks Old
“Oh my god, Y/N, look at him.”, Lisa coos at Ellis as she holds him in her arms. 
“Are you alright, Steve? You look like you haven’t slept.”, Shawn chuckles. 
“Yeah, I’m doing alright. Just…little guy keeping me up.”, he forces a smile. 
Your friends were having a get together for veterans and their families and since Steve worked at the center you suggested you three should go and be seen. Truthfully, you thought it would be good for them both to get out of the house as well as having him specifically spend some time with his new veteran friends to talk about anything that may be weighing on his mind causing his nightmares.
As the night wore on you noticed their soft grins return to their faces as he and Eddie mingled with the people around them. They radiated warmth as they talked about their son and everything he had done with his short little life so far.
“Have you guys started baby proofing yet? I swear when my daughter started crawling it was like she knew which areas were the bad ones!”
“Oh no, not yet. He did smile at Y/N the other day. Ellis has a beautiful little grin.”, Steve boasts.
“At that age usually it’s just reflexive. They see you guys smiling so…”
“Isn’t that all babies though? Like that’s how they learn?”, Eddie genuinely asks as the dads around him laugh. 
“Yeah but who knows some babies are different! You may just have an extremely happy baby who couldn’t wait to show you guys how much he loves being here.”
Time passed and a few of the guests left, leaving the main few that you had really gotten to know. You all sat in the living room while Eddie patted his son’s back as Ellis slept soundly. Steve tenderly petted the baby’s head as you beamed at them from your place in the chair across from them. 
“So how has everything else been going?”, Thomas asks as he chugs back some of the beer in his bottle. 
“Everything has been good, man. Just focusing on them, ya know?”
“Yeah, I understand. When my son was born, that first night I checked on him every hour on the hour. Then for some reason I kept checking on my wife. I knew our son needed us both and I kept thinking ‘What if something happened to either of us?’”
“I can understand that. I, uh, before Y/N and Steve, I lost a lot of people I loved and there was nothing I could do. Now that Ellis is here…it would kill me if anything ever happened to him.”
“Do you have nightmares about it? About losing them?”
“I don’t but Stevie here does.”, Eddie answers causing Steve to toss a glare his way. 
“I do but it’s fine. It’s not a big deal.”
“I had them to. Sometimes I would dream they were on the battlefield I fought in. I would run to them but I could never quite reach them.”, Thomas sighs at the memory. “What do you dream about?”
“It’s fine really.”
You’re not sure if anyone else heard but you and Eddie did as the demon’s voice fluctuated to his real one for a split second.
“Steven…”
“It’s ok, Y/N. Like I said, I get it. If you talk about it, it gives it validity right? You’d hate to manifest something like that into existence. Someone killing Y/N and your son.”
Steve’s eyes closed as his head ticked to the side. 
“Ok, Tom, I appreciate what you’re trying to do but I’m putting my foot down. You’re going to push him too far and he’s already got enough on his mind.”, Eddie defended rising to his feet and handing you the baby. 
“Ah, you’re the enabler I imagine. You allow him to shelter his feelings so he doesn’t have to deal with them.”
“You’re damn right I do. You humans have no idea what we’ve been through!”
“Interesting word choice. Is that how you separate people from your experiences?”
“Come on, guys, let’s head home.” As the long-haired demon grabbed his boyfriend’s arm, he remained frozen in place. Kneeling in front of him, he cupped his face in his hands. “Steven, it’s ok alright. You don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to. Let’s go home and get some sleep, huh?”
When the demon finally opened his eyes, Eddie’s widen in fear; he knew this look all too well. As subtly as he could, he got to his feet and towards the front door with you trailing after him. 
“Steven—”
Once the wind of the outside hit your faces, he expanded his wings, cutting you off as he vanished into the air.
***
“Edward, baby, are you ok?”
Eddie nodded from his place on the floor next Ellis who was sleeping soundly beside him. After laying down as well, he softly smiles your way as he continues caressing the baby’s open hand. 
“DO I enable him, Y/N?”
“Eddie…”
“I just…we went through so much… Every day I had to watch the man I love breakdown. Even when we were out, summoners never treated us with any kind of respect. They knew we wouldn’t be there for long. In our realm, he was hero and with one choice, he was banished and imprisoned…because of me.”
“No, Eddie. Everything you two went through was because of Henry. He killed Chrissy and framed you. Jason didn’t give Steve much of a choice. He was going to disobey orders and hurt you.”
“I always tried to make it up to him… I tried not to show my feelings, pretending I didn’t care we were trapped. Pretending I wasn’t scared and just as angry as he was. I’ve done that my whole life, Y/N. When my mom got sick, I did everything I could to make her laugh so she wouldn’t see how devastated I was. Every time my father came home upset, I acted like I was tough but I was fucking terrified, baby. I was so scared.”
A tear fell from his eye and your immediately wiped it away with your thumb.
“When he fled, I was afraid for my uncle. I didn’t even think twice when I signed up but I was positive I wouldn’t last a month out there on the battlefield. Steven and Robin helped me become a better fighter. With Chris I pretended to be more together than I was. She had enough on her plate at the time and I wanted her to feel safe.”
“It seems like that’s why you pretend, Eddie, so the people you love feel safe.”
Sitting up, he started to cry harder and you immediately crawled to him, curling up in his lap as you held him in your arms. 
The sound you recognized as a portal opening grabbed both your attention as you called Steve’s name.
“Hey, no, sorry. It’s just me. I have him here though.”, Robin answered as she came around the corner with the demon leaning half-conscious around her shoulders. “My girlfriend sent me a message saying he was there at the bar. He had been babbling about how human drinks aren’t strong enough and something about you two and Ellis.”
After leading her to the bedroom, she gently placed Steve onto the mattress. When Eddie entered the room, she smiled when she saw your son’s wide eyes looking back at her.
“He woke up.”, the demon announced as Ellis yawned to emphasis his point. 
“You need to let your parents get some rest, booger.”, Robin coos as she pokes his nose making him smile. 
“Some of our friends said for human babies around this time smiles like that are a reflex.”
“Yeah but he’s not entirely human and that beautiful, drool filled grin didn’t seem reflexive.”, she responded. “It seems like he can handle the demon skin since he’s letting us touch him.”
“Yeah, I think that’s the potion.”, you nod as you reach out to tickle the baby’s chin. “Thank you for bringing Steve back, Robin.”
Softly smiling, she leans down to kiss your forehead.
“Seriously, you and Ellis are so soft—”
“Ay yi, ma’am. This human is ours.”, Eddie playfully scolds as he swats his hand in her direction. 
***
Loud banging and clinking echoes behind the door you’re looking at as smoke occasionally slips through the seams. Taking a long exhale, you reach for the handle but someone tapping your shoulder startles you as you turn and smack the person’s face. 
“Ow! Jesus woman. How many times are you going to pop me?!”, Eddie whines as he rubs his cheek. 
“Edward, how did you—”
“I don’t know. I’ve been looking for the door for months. Maybe you finally calmed me down enough to know what I’m looking for.” Nodding, you kiss his lips. “So what’s the plan?”
“I think…this is Steve’s door. I don’t know. I’ve been trying to access his dreams but I haven’t been able to.”
Holding your hand, he carefully turns the knob and you both step through. Glancing down at his attire, Eddie realizes he’s suddenly in his old battle armor and you both are on the battlefield they fought on all those centuries ago. 
“Why am I not in armor?”
“I mean, you weren’t there, baby.”
“What the fuck are you two doing here?!”, Steve’s father shrieks above you as he lands on his feet. “Leave. NOW. My son needs to learn his lesson.”
“YOU’VE been giving him his nightmares?”, you growl.
“Not exactly. He started having them on his own but I’ve been fueling them.”
Shifting your gaze behind him, you both watch as Steve slaughters enemy after enemy, panting as he slowly tires himself out.
“Steven! Do better! You think these fuckers are going to show mercy on your son?! You have to do what I taught you to get the truth!”
Eddie gripped Bill’s throat and angrily threw him to the ground. 
“You made your hell his hell, you fucking asshole. He told me all about you and everything you did to him. You ruined his life enough! Leave him be.”
“Please. He’s doing this to himself. He’s worried about you two peasants and that thing. I’m making him better. Stronger.”
Grabbing a sword from the ground, you lift the handle and point the other end towards his throat. 
“You heard him. Leave Steven alone or else I swear to God, Bill, I will find a way myself to keep you in hell.”
Growling under his breath, he tried to stand but you and Eddie forced him back down with your weapons. Huffing he suddenly disappeared as well as every other solider that had fallen around the other demon. 
“Ed-Edward?”, Steve panted heavily when you noticed you both there. “Y/N? What are you…? It doesn’t matter. We need to get to Ellis or else Henry’s going to kill him. We have to—”
“Baby, look at me.”, Eddie tried to soothe as he cupped his cheeks in his hands. “You’re dreaming ok? Henry is gone and Ellis is in his crib fast asleep.”
“N-No. No? I can hear him. I can hear him crying! Can’t you hear that?!”
“Steven—”
“NO!”, the demon growls loudly as he shoves the man he loves hard backwards. “Who are you?! You’re not Edward. Y-You’re…You’re trying to trick me. Are you Mirage? Did Henry and his dad hire you to stop me?!”
“Steven…”, Eddie cried with worry as he threw the sword he was holding to the ground and held up his hands. “Sweetheart, please, it’s me. I promise. I would never hurt you like that. I would never keep you from our son.”
As he tried to step forward, the other demon shoved him to the ground.
“I-I-I need to get to my son.”, Steve sobbed as his voice cracked. “I know you’re not Eddie. Tell me where he is.”
When he didn’t answer, he pulled back and pushed his weapon downward. 
The sound of your grunt filled their ears as your eyes met Steve’s wide glassy ones. When you both looked down, blood drenched his sword where it had pushed through your stomach and around your back. 
“Baby?”
Looking up at him again, you smiled through the pain as blood dripped from your lips. 
“Why…why does it hurt?”
The three of you opened your eyes at the same time as you sat up clutching your stomach. Lifting up your shirt, there was no wound but it felt so real. You could still feel the stinging pain lingering on your skin. 
Eddie’s head slowly turned meeting Steve’s still shocked expression as is mouth hung open in shock. 
“I—”
The long-haired demon’s growl cut him off as his eyes glowed bright red. 
“Take us to another realm that we can fucking damage NOW.” You didn’t say anything as Steve rose to his feet with his head hung preparing a portal for them to go through. “Stay here.”
Coming around the bed, he waited for the other demon to finish as you peeked into the world they’d be going to. It was completely baron with nothing but white as far as the eye can see. 
“Fitting.”, Eddie responded in anger as he and the other demon walked inside. 
As the portal began to close, you quickly got up and jumped through right as it disappeared. 
You knew Eddie may be mad but after what happened this wasn’t something you were going to let them handle alone. 
##############
@tlclick73 @tiannamortis @steeldaisies @goodhappyfriday @paleidiot @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes
@strangerthings64 @howlingco @eddiesguitarskills
@prettypeachsworld @nailbatanddungeon @notlempet
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sophieinwonderland · 3 months
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Hiveminds and Multiplicity
When thinking about Hiveminds, I realized that hivemind connection is a spectrum, with many plural or plural-like experiences across it.
At the same time, both the beginning and end of this spectrum are singlet experiences. I decided to represent this with my own horseshoe theory.
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Unconnected Individuals
This is pretty self-explanatory. These are totally separate individuals with their totally separate bodies. These are not even the slightest bit plural. Or, at least, not for any hivemind related reasons.
Mind-Linked
Now we drift into plural territory.
At this point, the individuals have some sort of mental link to each other. Mind links can range in levels of complexity.
At a low level, this may mean feeling each other's emotions or sensing when something really bad happens with no words or other communication. The most basic form of this might be "twintuition" in shows, where twins can magically sense when something happens to another no matter where they are.
At high levels, this can come with full verbal communication and other hallucinatory experiences.
Mind-linked systems often have strong barriers between them, only being able to transfer limited information, and maybe only in specific circumstances.
But the mind-linked are having plural experiences. They have someone else feeling their emotions, hearing their thoughts. It's very similar to sharing your mind with headmates. As this connection grows, they may end up becoming...
The Multiple Hivemind
At the top most point of the horseshoe, all mental barriers have been torn down.
They're still multiple people. They still have their own individual identities. But the link has become so great that they can read each other's thoughts whenever they want. They can share memories and skills freely between them, being both multiple and completely connected at the same time.
The Median Hivemind
Having achieved perfect connection, identity starts to erode. The median hivemind starts becoming its own collective identity.
Individuals in the median hivemind still retain agency and sense of self, but are also blending together more now and feel less like separate people.
The True Hivemind
At this point, there is no distinction between identity of the members. The hivemind is now one singlet spread across multiple bodies. A contrast and opposite to traditional plurality, which is multiple agents in one body.
...
We Can Get Weird With This...
Okay, that's a basic overview of how hiveminds work and evolve with singlets. But... what if some members of the hivemind aren't singlets?
Now things are going to get weird because hiveminds and mental links enable a lot of peculiar things that wouldn't be possible otherwise.
What if an old headmate goes dormant for years. In that time, the system becomes linked to a hivemind and specifically become either a median or true hivemind where they all identify as the same thing? What if that headmate comes back to find everyone else in the system is part of this hivemind with their identities melded into it, but the new headmate is still separate?
Or what if a multiple hivemind enabled headmates originating in the same body to front in multiple bodies at once, essentially allowing system hopping as a thing in those specific circumstances? What one of the members of an in-sys relationship used someone else's body (consensually) to be with their partner?
Or what if, for whatever reason, only one member of the system had the connection to the hivemind while the rest didn't?
Or... imagine that there are two systems with a strong mental link. They become a multiple hivemind with headmates able to speak freely to each other and even share an inner world. Then two headmates, one from each system, interact more and end up fusing. What does this mean? Which body is theirs? What happens if the link is severed?
Or in the same vein, what if a hivemind starts out as existing between 5 singlets? They become connected and end up being a multiple hivemind, and share an inner world. What if the hivemind created a tulpa together in this inner world, and none of the members are sure whose tulpa it actually counts as?
...
Anyway, if there's any takeaway from this, it should be that plurality is weird. Hiveminds are weird. And put them together and you get a weird sandwich. 😁
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analytical-rant · 30 days
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ZERO DAY RANT. 002 TW: SEE TO THE MOVIES CONTENTS BEFORE READING. I WILL BE DISCUSSING THE IMPORTANT BUT TRIGGERING ASPECTS OF THIS MOVIE.
Cal was metaphoric, poetic in his views and morality. And he didn't wanna live.
Andre was angry, lonely, and wanted nothing more than to die for what he wanted to prove.
They're so different, and yet they understand each other. They're problems both strayed from the same place, they felt an absence of purpose. So they created one for themselves, and they died for it man. They died by each other. It's obvious anyone wouldn't ever reason with what they were thinking or doing, because they killed these men and women. They killed people with lives, and even in the end revenge is still preserved. It's this act of revenge that spiked another.
Revenge in this movie, is just seen to be drawn out further in the end. Even after what they did. stuff rooted from it, these kids saw this act of burning their graves as rightful. But do they not understand this was the same delusion, same hate that created this cause? They are the same violence, with different extents. They do not see the cry that was in their ends, but who would when it was after a laugh. They are immoral, they are horrible. But they were never given a chance, they were the reason to each other that either saw to this plan at all. They are the Army of two. This movie's point is to prevent what they did. To prevent who can become what they have. You can't get help unless you seek it, and you can't let problems happen till they get to a dangerous point. If there's a problem, if there's an effect to someone's well being, you can never know if it's capable of something bigger. What it can lead to, and no one deserves to live life with the purpose to end it. No one is truly a monster, no one is the bad guy, no one is the good guy. We're all fucking humans. But if we feed into others ideation, if we're influenced by others ideation we can become horrible. We can become blind, and corrupted. Everything is conceptual, everything is a word and a thing to be thought about. We have so much in life that tears us, that makes us happy. Sometimes we don't understand our own emotions, or actions. So how could Cal and Andre? It took two people to tell each other it was reasonable, it was rightful. It took two suicidal, ill children disturbed in their own ways to give each other enough comfort to have the courage to kill themselves and others. It proves you can be hurt by the wrong crowd, but yet only understood by them. You want to be understood, you don't want to be alone. But sometimes those aspects don't make you realize what your doing shouldn't happen. Morality, its so fucking flexible if your part of the wrong crowd, or driven to a wrong point. But really it isn't morality that drives someone to murder, its desire, or hate. And hate can be in morality, it can make something feel right. You hate robbers, because what they do isn't right. Andre hated this school, because what it does to him isn't right. But how Andre handled dealing with it was horrible, it was clear he was in a mindset unhealthy, and being friends with Cal only enabled it. Andre only enabled Cal. Zero day isn't a slasher movie, it isn't a true crime. It sheds light on these problems, it makes you think. It makes you understand, to try to prevent. Because these people came from simple name calling. So hey, one. Don't call someone an idiot, communicate. We don't know if someone's mentally disturbed, and why even call someone an idiot in the first place? That isn't education, it's blatant harm. And if this 'idiot' is causing it themselves from words or action, its counterproductive. You're being a hypocrite. And it'll only be getting anger out of them which just causes either spite or ignorance so then you get nowhere. I mean, if there's ignorance either way, then sometimes it's better left to professional help. And two, it just tells you to seek this help yourself. No matter how horribly or subtly ill, it's better than starting from something capable of causing harm to yourself or others. Zero Day is just something fake, but real. In all honesty, like any other it's how you find something out of this movie, whether bad or good. It just feels like a test. It was never made to encourage, but prevent. But people are capable of either, and that in itself is the test. To see if you're capable of reasoning, and understanding what's really to blame. And simply, no one. Your story is dependent on your actions, on what you do to help yourself. And killing or suicide is never an option. Movies can be for hope, for reasoning and awareness. This movie is anything, but to be encouraging. It's meant to make you more thoughtful, to find points and reason from this and everything else. It wasn't made for shock culture, it's more than that. PT.1 PT.3
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headkiss · 2 years
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could you write steve fake sleeping on the couch to get the kids to leave him and his girlfriend alone?
hi lovely!!! sorry it took so long but thank u for the request and i hope u like it! | 1.1k words and fluff <3
Steve loves the kids, really, he does. It’s just, sometimes he wants you all to himself, that’s all.
He loves the way you treat them, the way they look up to you. He loves your sisterly bond with Max, your eagerness to hear Dustin’s new theories, the way that Will trusts you with things he doesn’t tell anyone else.
He loves that you show up to every single one of Lucas’ games without fail, that you’re there to cheer him on even when nobody else is.
He really doesn’t love it when they hog your attention, though. He’s the one you’re dating, after all.
You woke him up this morning with kisses all over his face, eager to get the day started with him. He cuddled you, so comfortably that you both fell asleep for a couple more hours.
The next time he woke up you were gone, and he found you in the kitchen making breakfast, a beaming smile on your face when you turned around to see him. He felt his heart swell every time you smiled at him like that, a ray of sunshine bathing him in its glow.
He swore he loved you more every single day, if it was even possible. You’d grown together over time, now sharing a place, sharing a life.
Today was a day he wanted to spend with just you, one to snuggle and watch movies and drink tea, to do the morning’s crossword and hear you giggle at his cheeky answers.
He was a clingy lover. One that loved to have his hands on you and your attention on him.
As you sat with him eating your breakfast and drinking your coffee, still sleepy eyes peeking at each other between bites, you reminded him that you’d be hosting today.
“Y’know the kids are coming tonight, right?”
“What? Why?”
“‘Cause it’s pizza night, Stevie! It happens every week.”
“But, why here, baby?”
You rolled your eyes at his questioning, knowing he already knew the reason and just wanted it to change. You also knew that as much as he complained, he loved spending time with the kids, even when he won’t admit it.
“It’s our turn to host. It’s only a couple hours.”
“But I just wanna be with you.. Can’t we reschedule?”
“Oh stop, you love that messy bunch. And no, they have D&D tomorrow.”
“Ugh, fine. But don’t you dare ditch me.”
You simply shook your head, not wanting to enable his plans to get you away from the group. He never really tried too hard, though, because he adored seeing you be with all of them. He adored being there, too.
He couldn’t help but think of your future together and how you’d treat your own children. You’d be perfect, he thinks. You already are.
The day swept by, you and Steve not in any hurry to get ready until about an hour before the kids showed up. Even then, you were distracted by each other, sneaking kisses between hair routines, making faces in the mirror. The little things you don’t think you could never live without.
When the group finally arrived, pizza boxes in hand, Steve was less whiny about it, considering you spent the whole day cuddling and talking and simply loving each other.
Dustin was the first to walk in, knocking but still opening the door himself because that’s just what he did. Steve would complain about it every time, and you think the only reason Dustin kept doing it was to annoy him.
The rest followed and then, pizza night was in motion.
As always, it was full of laughs and teasing. Smiles that could only be brought out when you all came together, a family no matter the DNA.
Hours passed and it was getting late for Steve’s taste, wanting to be able to hold you in bed while you read to him like you usually would at this time. While he enjoyed having people around, he couldn’t always handle it for too long. His social battery running out and only rechargeable by being alone with you.
When everyone was distracted Steve pulled you over to the couch, laying down and tugging you so that you were forced to lay with him.
“Stevie, what are you doing?”
“Mmm, tired. Wanna go to bed with you.”
“You’re cute, and I love you, but there’s still people here.”
“I love you. I have a plan, okay? I’m asleep.”
He pressed a kiss to the top of your head that rested against his chest after hearing your giggle, soft and loving as always. His eyes were closed now as he held you, tight enough that you couldn’t leave his embrace. It wasn’t like you wanted to, anyway.
It was about five minutes before the noisy bunch noticed yours and Steve’s disappearance from the conversation, having been too focused on whatever discussion they were having.
“Aww, it looks like they’re sleeping,” Max spoke as she spotted you two on the couch, her head on Lucas’ shoulder.
“So gross,” Dustin faked a gag, even though inside he really did think it was sweet. He was so happy for Steve, happy to see his big brother figure in love. Happy that he found you and introduced you to the group.
“It’s cute!” El was defensive because all the movies she watched made her a romantic. She couldn’t help but smile.
They all started to gather their stuff while Dustin walked over to you both, poking Steve’s forehead to check if he was really asleep.
“Dude!”
“I knew you weren’t asleep. You wanna get rid of us that bad?”
You sat up and ruffled the boy's hair, “‘Course not, Dusty.”
“I’m sleeping, Dustin.”
“No, you’re not.”
Steve loved the kid, he really did, but he truly was tired and all he wanted to do was wrap himself up in your shared bed with you by his side. He didn’t care if it was cheesy or gross, it was true. He supposed being in love made him sort of cheesy.
“Come on, it’s late. Don’t you have a curfew? And you owe me because I rented you a movie for free yesterday. Free!”
“Oh my gosh, fine. You sap.”
Steve went back to fake sleeping while you walked Dustin and the others to the door, bidding them a goodnight and telling them to get home safe. You really did worry like they were your siblings.
Your boyfriend got up when he heard the door close, walking over to you and wrapping his arms around your waist, hugging you from behind. His lips kissing your neck gently, trailing up to your cheek.
“Bed time?”
“Yeah, Stevie. Is it okay if I read for a bit? Don’t wanna bother you with the light on.”
He rested his chin on your shoulder, arms squeezing around you because he wanted you as close as possible. His serenity and relaxation the most effective with your body tight to his.
“Only if you read to me.”
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lowpolyshadow · 11 months
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i transcribed the sonadow bumblekast episode so you don't have to
youtube
hopefully the formatting isn't really weird lol
Kyle: So this time, for Pride Month, we get to address the hypothetical fandom ship that's probably helped more than a few Sonic fans figure out their sexuality: Sonadow! A lot of straight fans probably had Rouge or Sally be their awakening, so don't throw stones. 
Ian: True, true. 
Kyle: Shadow is not quite in a place where it's easy to imagine him having a healthy romantic relationship. But it is honestly a bit problematic to have one character shift until they're suitable for another, unless it's a mutual situation. How would you execute the character growth for Shadow and Sonic that would most help enable Sonadow? 
Ian: There would have to be an understood vulnerability to Shadow, he would have to open up to a degree that makes him more accessible at a personal level, and it doesn't take much? We've seen hints of it throughout his appearances, it would just need to become established, and that I think is all you really need to build that bridge because Sonic is casual and accepting enough as he is, and he's going to allow Shadow to be who he is which is kind of prickly and standoffish as you would have that occasional moment where Shadow lets his guard down and is more empathetic or emotionally available. But otherwise they would both play it fairly cool and aloof I think (lol). 
Kyle: Yeah, they're together. What of it? So? Big deal. I like it.  There are obviously a lot of different popular ships in Sonic. In order to make one really stand out, you'd probably need to really spark intrigue on it before pushing the two characters together. How would you arrange the first key romantic spark that was intended to drive the fans towards wanting them together? 
Ian: I think it stems more from the characters already having good chemistry. I mean you look at the fandom in general and the fleet of ships that are sailing and all of them are based off of the fact that these characters are fun in their interactions regardless of who we're talking about. So if it were an intention of building something from scratch, for most of the Sonic cast, I think the work's already been done and there's already a great deal of trust and mutual respect between most of the characters. It would just be a matter of realizing that there is more than respect, there's more than kinship, there's a romantic affinity, and for one of those characters to make that realization and start to pursue it in their own particular way.  And then it becomes a question of well, is the object of their affection going to reciprocate? And if they don't, which leads to an interesting story of, now that they are on this path, yeah, they know that this is an option, do they come around to it? Or do they not? Are both characters kind of interested but they don't want to take that first step and so you have that carrot on a stick that is ever so effective for however long you want to run it? 
(laughing) 
Kyle: There's nothing that gets, uh, Sonic's motor running more than being called a faker. Apparently. 
(more laughing) 
Ian: Oh, he'll show you how real he is. 
Kyle: Oh, no! This is a family show, sir!
(even more laughing) 
With that idea fresh in our minds, how would you make it official for the two of them? 
Ian: God, if that ever came to pass. (lol) 
Kyle: I feel like it would have to be kind of like, understated? Like it would just kind of happen? 
Ian: Yeah, I've, they're both so cool and aloof in their own way, I don't see them making any kind of dramatic declaration or ... suddenly turning all mushy and lovey-dovey, it's not who they are. Um ... I, you know, the adventure concludes and they're standing side by side on the hillside looking at the sunset and the wreckage ... and they share, you know, a compliment, and instead of like a fist bump or a "see you next time" and, y'know, one of them runs off ... maybe they throw arms around each other or something and just kind of stand there. Again, they're not gonna be all "mweh mehmehmeh" ... tonsil action, it's, I see them being very chill about it all. 
(lol) 
Kyle: Also, keep in mind everyone, this is all just ... 'fan ideas', this is probably never gonna happen, it's very unlikely, we're just having fun here. 
Ian: It's hypothetical situations that I am approaching as reasonably and as authentically as I can. 
Kyle: Yes, yes, just to keep that in mind, just keeping everybody on the same page here. 
Ian: I am not endorsing, I am not unendorsing, 
I am just answering questions. Everybody simmer. 
Kyle: Let's assume that for whatever reason Shadow decided to seek out advice from the following, and whoever he asked has to answer with an honest attempt at the best advice they could offer. How would Professor Gerald, Dr. Eggman, the Commander, and Black Doom advise him? 
Ian: Gerald would be the most wholesome and effective, I think. I think he understands people better than ... certainly a lot of his family. Uh, and would advise Shadow to look inward to ask himself what he really wants, and to ruminate on that and then act with caution, you know, don't be hasty on this particular thing. Like all great research, it takes time to get the results that, you know, you want, or the results that will come to be - don't take anything as a given, but don't be afraid to pursue the truth, whatever that may be.  Eggman would scoff at the notion and, you know, sarcastically offer to set him up on a date, making it quite clear that it would all be a trap and an ambush and whatever. The Commander ... I don't see as being a very romantic individual, but I think he might be direct about that, right. He would say that his partner was someone he managed to find for himself, but that was largely thanks to her, and her efforts, because he was kind of clueless about this, but Shadow is also kind of in the same boat so you know, maybe ... at least be aware of your surroundings? If someone is prepared to make that gesture, be ... ready to receive it and understand it for what it is. How do you do that? He's not quite sure how he figured it out himself but you know, he's not good at this sort of thing.  And Black Doom would again, scoff. Love is a weakness, it is a distraction at best, a malady at worst, it is ... an affliction of the mind. An illusion created by inferior beings to facilitate necessary natural processes. You do not need love, you do not need anyone, you are my Ultimate Weapon now go get me them Chaos Emeralds. 
Kyle: (laughing) Those damn fourth Chaos Emeralds! They're all fourth!
Ian: (mimicking Black Doom) Honestly, Shadow, what's love got to do, got to do with it. What's love but a second hand emotion. 
Kyle: (laughing) Well, we all know Shadow can't resist a dying wish. Let's say in the aftermath of a terrifying evil scheme, Eggman once more had to team up with the heroes to save the world, but he died in the process, leaving Sage and her brothers in the care of his uncle and uncle-in-law. Assuming that if money were real, GUN would pay the kind of money that would keep a classy act like Rouge on staff so the boys don't need to change their heroics too much, how would they do as parents to Sage, Orbot, Cubot, and after a while if she so chose, potentially Belle? 
(THIS IS METAL ERASURE >:( whatever he doesn't wanna be part of this family anyways)
Ian: I'm a little lost in the wording on who is acting as surrogate parents here.
Kyle: I think it might supposed to be Sonic and Shadow ... but Rouge is also there? I think? 
Ian: Well I mean someone would have to look after the kids because it ain't gonna be them. 
Kyle: (laughing) No, I guess not?!
Ian: I mean, Sonic would Sonic would kind of show up for birthdays and events and to check in but he's ... he's not the stay at home dad. He's not the stay in one place dad, he's the dad who gets his steps in, if you catch my meaning.
Kyle: Okay, no, it was more an example of they’re ... willing to pay Rouge ... so they would be willing to also pay them ... so ... but ... I guess Rouge would not be the caretaker. So ... they would have to be the caretakers ... I don't think it would go well! Luckily, I think they're self-sufficient ... for the most part ... (starting to lose it)
Ian: I mean I can't really see GUN letting them off ... interestingly, to anyone. They would be on facility. But it would be Sonic and Shadow weighing heavily saying they're not captives, they're not tech to be assimilated into the greater GUN network, they are wards of your facility, right? Right? Which again, Sonic would be checking in on occasion to make sure that it's going well. And maybe Shadow would kind of become a satellite agent of GUN, just keep tabs on everything, check in on the others to some degree ... but ... we wouldn't have a case of My Two Dads on this one, they're not the parental types.
Kyle: We probably shouldn't trust GUN with child care. Probably not. Even robot children.
Ian: And ... you don't even need them to be a pair to get the kind of ... bickering parental - conflicting parental guidelines in this scenario. Sonic would be very much, ehhh let them stay up, let him eat ice cream, let them do whatever they want, Shadow's like no, they need discipline, you're going to spoil them.
Kyle: Worst fathers ever.
Ian: Belle I ... I, again, I can't really see as a parental role but I could see her as the put upon babysitter. She tries her best to look after them and keep things under control but ... honestly ... they're Egg tech, they're not going to cooperate all that much.
Kyle: ... Yeah ... yeah I guess ... Belle would have to be the older sister and she'd probably end up being the one who does most of the work. Ugh.
Ian: Someone who tried to stop the caper of stealing the Commander's loafer or something. "I'm gonna get in trouble you guys! Stop!"
Kyle: Alright. Shadow is immortal, he will probably outlive Sonic. Unfortunately, given Sonic's lifestyle, that may not be that hard ... although given Shadow's first adventure, it could go either way. Sonic would probably understand that Shadow copes with things like this better when he has a sense of meaningful purpose to focus on. This seems like the type of thing Shadow would project onto his partner if it came to it, so what would each other ... so what if ... so what would each of their dying wishes to each other be?
Ian: Morbid. 
Kyle: (lol) 
Ian: You're going for the beautiful sadness type of thing I think. Uh, Sonic's would be ... what he wishes for everyone, is to be true to yourself and to live free. Perhaps that be true to yourself ringing a little more resoundly in Shadow's case, you know, don't close yourself off ... again. You know, be free to open up to someone else again down the road, and just be honest with yourself and be free to make that choice. 
Kyle: Open your heart, Shadow, it'll be alright.
(laughing)
Dammit! You would do that. 
Ian: Yeah, I absolutely would. 
(more laughing)
As for Shadow ... he would want Sonic to endure, you know, to just continue to carry on ... to not be defeated by anything. To find a way to escape death and just continue being, because, you know who else can replace him? Nobody. He would want that to endure forever.
Kyle: Yep. Good thing Sonic's got extra lives.
So Sonic and Shadow have gotten engaged, and they're trying to figure out how to approach their family name. Would Sonic take Shadow's last name, or Shadow take Sonic's, each keep their own, or each add the other's with a hyphen? Given Shadow's right to certain other last names, there could be a timeline with a Sonic Robotnik or (losing it) Sonic Doom.
Ian: No, they'd go with their current surnames, and as a sign of solidarity, they would just swap them so it would become Sonic the Hedgehog and Shadow the Hedgehog.
Kyle: Right, okay, okay ... good, good. Yeah, okay, it'll be fine, as long as Shadow doesn't take Maurice or something we'll be good.
(laughing)
Sonic and Shadow the Hedgehog. No relation.
Ian: We could hyphenate it! Sonic the Hedgehog-Hedgehog! (Shadow voice) Don't make me regret my decisions. 
Kyle: Too late, he already does. He already does.  Sonic has a great found family, and presumably in order to get Shadow to a point where he could date Sonic we'd be dealing with a much more Team Dark take on Shadow, who also has that. How would they both adapt to regularly hanging out with each other's found family? 
Ian: Uhhh ... The Sonic side of things is always very opening and it's ... open and accepting. And that's ... hilarious ... to the Team Dark side of things, because you can take such advantage of that. I think there would be attempts made on Team Sonic's side to incorporate everyone into the big happy family and eventually it would come to the understanding that, you know, there's appreciation ... there's respect, but there also needs to be distance. It's okay that they only get together for like, the holidays, and then they all keep to themselves. Nothing against anybody it's just, you know, oil and water don't necessarily mix all the time. And the time Rouge stole the Christmas presents ... Knuckles’s still a little salty about that one. 
Kyle: Aw. Poor Knuckles.  I play a lot of DnD with my boyfriend, he's big into it and happy to have another person for his DnD groups. Meanwhile I always enjoyed the little bit I got to play, but didn't get the opportunity as much in the past. It is unfortunately, for him, very much a ... forever DM for the group he has assembled. With this new little family we've assembled around the Sonadow pairing, who would be their forever DM? Omega is a war forged Barbarian, right? I mean yes. I mean ... you mean in the game? I mean he could be whatever he wants in the game, but in real life, yes.
Ian: I think you could make a case he's war forged Barbarian in every connotation of the word. 
Kyle: Pretty much! 
Ian: Uh ... I can't remember how we ... because I feel like this ties into just general DnD, we've been asked this before ... I would think Tails would be the DM. 
Kyle: Yeah ... yeah, Tails is the one who has the most, uh ... patience, I think, to really learn stuff. Amy maybe. 
Ian: Maybe ... I mean, he would like to construct the campaigns, he would be the better rules lawyer between the two of them. Um, I think he might be a little more of a stickler than Amy, I think Amy would allow for a little more rule of cool, but I don't think Tails would be obnoxious about it, you know. If you roll a one and things have gone very badly, he'd be trying to help you figure out a way around it. It's like, you know, okay, this is a bad situation! What do you see around you that could stop you from being on fire? Or, Amy! Don't you remember you have this particular Scroll of Healing or whatever? I - I haven't played DnD I don't know.
Kyle: I mean, yeah, that exists, it's fine, you got it. 
Ian: He wouldn't be a "rocks fall, everyone dies" DM, but he would be someone who's like, no, you can't fudge the numbers, you miss. "How do you mean I miss, I'm right in his face!" You rolled a two, what can I tell you! 
Kyle: He might think about "rocks fall, everyone dies" for a second, though, once again fed up - 
Ian Every turn, Omega's like "I KILL EVERYONE IN THE ROOM." Even the party? "YES." No, you can't do that! "IT IS IN CHARACTER." I don't care!!!!
(laughing) 
Kyle: Oh man, yeah, I mean, I don't know how long it would take for him to get fed up with Monty Python references but ... (lol) Probably not very long. Uh, and it turns out Monty Python is an actual python comedian in their world, and ... (losing it again) I'm here for it. That'd be cool. Time for the coveted Digimon question! I don't know who's coveting the Digimon questions, but alright, I guess Twilord is. In Digimon, there's a concept of DNA digivolution, where two digimon can fuse together. Sometimes this phenomenon creates a mental link between the Tamers and lets them glimpse each other's thoughts and feelings. This admittedly varies a bit so you have a lot of creative freedom on your solution. Assume the two of them were closeted for lack of it having come up yet, from those whose Digimon starters you might've ... you might choose to have DNA digivolve with Sonic's or Shadow's partners ... which partners figure it out from the basic mental connection, and of them how would they handle knowing without being told? I'm assuming that ... like, they have not confessed their love for each other but they somehow use this to figure it out.
Ian: And really ... Digimon ... it's not asking about the Digimon themselves, it's acting as Sonic and Shadow are the trainers, right. 
Kyle: Right. 
Ian: Uh ... The hardest question of this is who is more obtuse between the two of them ... 
Kyle: (LMAO) Yes. That's the answer. 
Ian: Shadow ... in general ... might be a little quicker on the draw ... so he would make the realization and that might prompt him to ... open up ... whereas Sonic just already kind of took it as a given, it wasn't really a realization to him, so he didn't really think much of it. 
Kyle: I guess ... Yeah, I guess that kind of fits. I guess that fits. 
Ian: (Shadow voice) Once we were linked, I cam to a realization ... and well, now that I know it's reciprocated, I guess I can say I'm really into you.  (Sonic voice) Oh yeah, I already knew. 
Kyle: (laughing) Yeah, everyone's into me. No, no that's not what I mean - 
Ian: (Shadow voice) It means you don't have a romantic bone in your body. 
Kyle: (LOSING IT me too dude) I think the idea ... apparently .. I'm getting word that the idea behind this question was that they haven't told anyone yet, and their friends find out this way.
Ian: Ohhh, okay. 
Kyle: Okay. Well here's the thing ... Most people in Sonic's world are very accepting and everything, so I don't think it would ... be a big deal? (lol) 
Ian: Yeah, I mean, if anything ... the biggest reaction would come out of Amy. There might be shock she found out ... Well, shocked at first, but if she found out, and they haven't really opened up to each other yet about it, she would go hardcore matchmaker. 
Kyle: Oh, no! (laughing) 
Ian: Like, if they both feel that way, and they aren't being honest with their affections, ohhhh no no no, she will not let that stand. Nope. She will move heaven and earth to see love realized. 
Kyle: (laughing) Even if it's not Sonic loving her, I guess, huh? (more laughing)
Ian: Disappointed, sure ... but, y'know, fine. What she wants is for him to be open and true with himself, and true with others. Love is a powerful force in the universe, and she will see its will done. 
Kyle: Yeah (lol), she is a true ally, yes. 
Ian: A real intense ally. 
Kyle: (laughing) Kind of frightening. 
Ian: Again, put down the torches and pitchforks, this is a hypothetical, this is for funsies. Let it be. 
Kyle: Yes, let's have some fun. 
Ian: Moving on, he's got a question for you, Kyle. 
Kyle: Alright. 
Ian: So in terms of romantic progression for fictional characters, you would say that after the romcom where the parents get home together in the sitcom where they all have to live their lives together ... can you please pitch me three episode ideas for the up and never coming sitcom, The Hedge Hogs, for me to rate?
Kyle: Oh, no. Uh, I didn't read this before we started! Uh ... hm ... come up with these on the fly ... um ... I'm like, not great at that. Let me think here ... Let me think here …
Ian: Let me help you out. 
Kyle: Okay, hit me. 
Ian: Fast and the Furious ... they both run out to get takeout quickly and they deal with incorrect orders. 
Kyle: Okay - 
Ian: Becomes a conflict of their personalities where Sonic's like hey, I'll take the pickles off! And Shadow's like he said no pickles. 
Kyle: Okay .. ! (laughing) Yeah, that's good. That's good. Um ... Hm ... hmm ... God, I really am bad at this (lol). I feel like there has to be one where they're trying to drive somewhere and they can't decide ... they'd like get lost, and then one of them is like, you don't need directions - it'd probably be Sonic, Sonic would be driving and he refuses to ask for directions, and Shadow's like trying to get him to pull over and ask for it. 
Ian: (Shadow voice) Please, pull over. 
Kyle: (laughing) Yeah, yeah ... I mean, that's another trope of sitcoms. (lol) 
Ian: Here's one for you ... Surprise Control - Sonic and Shadow are each trying to prepare a birthday surprise party for the other, not realizing that, son of a gun, they share the same birthday! No, they've never actually discussed this or put it together. Hijinx ensue. 
Kyle: (laughing) Do they, actually? - No, nono, Sonic Adventure 2's like a few days before ... but, you know, it's funnier if they do. 
Ian: Rouge is the first one to figure it out and she runs interference to make sure nobody clears it up for them. 
Kyle: (laughing) Yeah, yeah, I like that one ... Alright, let's see - 
Ian: Turns into a big blow up where they're both angry that neither of them knew what each other's actual birthday was, and then the tension is broken when Omega pops out of the cake like Marilyn Monroe. HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU. HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE TWO OF YOU. 
Kyle: (laughing) And then ... he sets off the fireworks. Which are actually just …
Ian: Omega, not inside the HOUSE- !!!! 
Kyle: (LAUGHING) Which are actually just more DAKKA.
Ian: Has to be inside an apartment complex so Eggman can pull a Newman(?). "Hello, Sonic." 
Kyle: (losing it) Ohhh, nooo ... 
Ian: "I hear you've got the prime time cable package. Mind if I come in to play games on it?" ... Yeah, sure I guess, it's fine - "COME ON KIDS, HE SAID IT'S FINE!" 
Kyle: (still laughing) Oh, no .... 
Ian: Orbot ... Cubot ... Tribot ... a few Egg pawns ... 
Kyle: (laughing) Uh, who's the Kramer in this situation? (laughing) Knuckles?
Ian: Big the Cat. 
Kyle: Okay. 
Ian: Exact same mannerisms. 
Kyle: OKAY. (laughs) Yeah, okay. 
Ian: You know, mid conversation busts down the door, (Big voice) Froggy? Froggy, where are you? 
Kyle: (truly shitting it now) Oh, no ... Oh, no ... Oh nohoho ... The episode where Shadow's parents all come over for the holidays ... All four of them ... 
Ian: (cackles) (Shadow voice) Why do I have so many parents ... 
(laughing) 
(Black Doom voice) Now, we shall air our grievances on this festivus ... Shadow, finish the bowl. 
Kyle: (losing his mind) 
Ian: (Black Doom voice) Festivus ... is for the rest of us ... 
Kyle: Oh, boy. Oh boy. Terrible. I love it. I love it ... Alright, I think that's enough.
Ian: It certainly is. Happy pride month to all of you celebrating. Be good to yourselves, be good to each other, and we will see you next time.
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dotster001 · 4 months
Note
Hiya!!! I was wondering if I could request what would happen if Yuu accidentally ignited a Snow Ball War at NRC? It could be HCs or imagines with whoever you want!
Snowball War
Summary: Gn!reader
A/N: idk where you guys live, but for the last two weeks, I've lived IN THE FUCKING ARCTIC. Today it finally reached 30° after two weeks of 14° and lower, and snow storms, and freezing rain, so I wrote this to celebrate a liveable temperature where I could actually see road for once.
“I have an idea.”
“Ah shit, not that look. Y/N, whatever he is about to ask you, say no,” Ace warned.
You looked up from your lunch in confusion. Epel had just slid over, with a wicked look in his eye. A look that normally came from Ace. And if Ace was telling you it would be bad, then it would surely be bad.
“I've never done anything wrong in my life!”
In the seat next to you, Jack snorted, but didn't say anything.
“Listen, Y/N, my best friend, one who I'd do anything for,” he pleadingly took your hand, full charm on. “I never ask for anything.”
This time you snorted.
“I just want this one thing.”
“What is it, Epel?” You asked tiredly.
“Well, you know how it's snowing? I need you to pretend we are having a snowball fight, so that I can “accidentally” hit Vil with a snowball.”
You yanked your hand back, and went back to your lunch.
“Just listen! He's gonna be on his internship next year, so I'll never get another chance!”
“Ask Ace.”
“No way, I choose to live.”
“It has to be you!” Epel pleaded. “You're the only one who can do it and not get killed! He likes you!” 
“He sure has a funny way of showing it…”
“Look, we just need to throw a couple snowballs at each other, then when Vil walks through the courtyard, I'll accidentally miss you, and hit him. Then while I'm giving a fake apology, you're gonna hit me in the face with a snowball, and he'll see I'm telling the truth.”
“First off, he'll kill me for enabling you, because that's such bullshit that he won't believe. Second off,” you threw your hands up in frustration, “my aim is not good enough to hit you in the face. But you know who's is?”
You stared pointedly at Ace, who vehemently shook his head. “Stop trying to drag me into this!”
“Y/N,” Epel pleaded, taking your hand again, and making the saddest expression you'd ever seen. “Please.”
Jack groaned next to you. “Oh sevens.”
And you knew why he groaned. Because there was no way you were going to say no to that face.
….
Your fingers were starting to go numb from throwing snow.
“Epel, are you sure he's coming?” You whined.
“He has to come this way for film club! He's just, probably delayed or something.”
You grumbled as you leaned down to make what felt like the 300th snowball.
You heard a not so subtle cough from Epel, and knew that the devil himself had arrived. You subtly nodded, and threw a snowball at him. As planned, Epel threw one that was way over your shoulder. You heard the disgusted “ugh” as Epel began his fake apology, then aimed at Epel's face.
Unfortunately, just like you warned him, your aim was not good. It sailed past him, and hit a certain suited someone square in the back. Azul, flanked by the twins, slowly turned towards you, a cold smile on his face.
“Take care of that, please,” he said, and you stumbled backwards as you watched the twins make their way towards you.
“Shit, Epel-” you called, but he was too busy getting lectured. You watched Floyd pick up an armful of snow, and start running towards you, Jade preparing to snipe you with snowballs after the initial attack.
You ran, but slipped on an ice patch, falling straight into a body, who was just as unfortunate as you. The both of you went down, just as Floyd dropped the snow pile on the both of you.
“What in Seven’s name-” Jamil shouted from under you, and the snow pile. Only to get hit square in the face with Jade's sniper snowball.
“I've always wanted to do this!” Kalim giggled, still on his feet, and untouched with snow. He made a snowball, and threw it at the next unfortunate passerby who walked through the doorway.
Poor Idia…
He squeaked and hid behind Ortho, whispering something into the cyborg's ear. Ortho 's eyes brightened in excitement, and you watched in horror as his arm turned into a gun of sorts, and started rocketing snowballs every which way. You snatched Jamil's and Floyd's wrists, and dragged them behind a bench.
….
It hadn't taken long for some teams to form. Any poor soul who wandered into the courtyard was forced to take cover as snowballs were rained down upon them. This might have ended hours ago. Except Ortho was trigger happy, to the extent that Idia was hiding with your team, and Floyd had betrayed five different teams already. The other reason this wasn't over, was each team got "lucky" enough to have at least one person who had a vendetta against someone else.
You got lucky enough to be stuck with Leona.
Your team consisted of Leona, Jack, Idia, Jamil, and Trey. An odd mix to be sure.
“Snowball,” Leona grunted, Jack quickly handing him the requested snowball. He threw it with astounding speed and accuracy, hitting Cater square in the chest, hard enough that he released an oomph that was audible across the courtyard. Poor Cater hadn't meant to hit Leona, he was aiming for-
“Please! I won't punish any of you! Just let me go back to my dorm!” Riddle pleaded, his arms in the air in show of peace. He was knocked over by a barrage of snowballs, from Ortho and various other participants.
“Snowball,” Leona grunted.
“Oomph! Leona, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to hit you!” Cater sobbed from across the way.
“Snowball.”
“Oomph!”
You grabbed Idia and Trey by the collar, bringing them in closer to you.
“We gotta come up with a plan,” you said barely above a whisper. Your bench was crowded, and not very safe from snowballs. Then again, it was better than the tree that Ace's team was stuck behind.
“Like what?” Jamil grumbled.
“Damn it!” You heard an unrecognizable cry, as Floyd slid back behind your bench.
“I'm back on your team!” Floyd giggled happily. “What are we doing?”
“Plotting our escape,” Trey said with a tired laugh.
Floyd pursed his lips. Then threw a snowball straight at Trey's face, bursting into laughter and rushing to join a different team.
“Wonderful,” Trey muttered, wiping his glasses off on his shirt.
“We're gonna die here,” Idia whined, burying his head in his arms.
“We could use Shroud as a shield. His baby brother wouldn't dare hit him,” Jamil offered up. 
Idia glared at Jamil. “Aren't you supposed to smart! If that was true, why would I be hiding behind a bench like you dweebs?”
“Fu fu fu, what do we have here?” Lilia's upside down face suddenly appeared in the middle of your group. You popped up in shock, and in that moment, were slammed in the back of your head by a snowball.
You turned to glare at the perpetrator. Of those who had a vendetta, Rook seemed to be out for you. He smiled pleasantly, as he aimed another one at you, before Jamil yanked you back down.
“Lilia, we need to get out of here. Can you use that big brain of yours to help us?” Idia cried, at the bargaining stage of the stages of grief.
“Hm…” Lilia tilted his head thoughtfully, then poofed out of sight in magenta smoke.
Moments later, Malleus and all of his attendants walked out into the courtyard.
“I have a bad feeling about this,” you muttered.
“Why? They're our back up, right?” Idia muttered.
“No. I very much doubt it,” you heaved out. You peaked up over the edge of the bench, where Malleus made eye contact, and gave a small smile. Lilia waved just as Malleus threw the snowball at you. You ducked at the last moment, and-
“Fuck you, lizard!” Leona leapt over the bench, threw a snowball at Malleus, then tackled him to the ground, the two of them wrestling in a snow pile. Lilia looked on as though this was the proudest moment of his life.
Floyd flopped back over to your group.
“‘m bored. I wanna break out with you guys.”
“That was fast,” Jack muttered, though you weren't sure if he was referring to Leona, or Floyd. 
“Well, there's our distraction. You're from a dorm that's all about strategy, come up with something!” You snapped at Jamil.
He glared, and sighed tiredly. “Realistically, I can't leave before Kalim is done.”
The rest of you stared at him, unimpressed. He sighed.
“But if you still want a plan, then use Jack and Shroud as a shield.”
“I already told you, Ortho is gonna-”
“Did I say shield? I meant sacrifice.”
“Fine with me!” You jumped to your feet, yanking Idia up in front of you. Trey realized you were already moving, and quickly joined you as you pulled a shouting Idia along the courtyard. Behind you, you saw Floyd trying to wrestle Jack into being his shield. It was going badly. Not your problem anymore.
You made it halfway across the courtyard, when a hand grabbed your ankle. You looked down, to see Deuce staring up at you.
“Take me with you,” he croaked.
You reached out to grab his hand, but startled as Trey started moving you and your shield with even more fervor.
“Wait, Deuce!” you cried.
“Who?” Trey said, his face the picture of innocence, even as he fought to keep back a vicious smirk. 
“Big brother!” Ortho giggled.
“Ortho, wait-” Idia cried, and you were all shocked as chunks of snow rose and fell above his shoulders from the quickly pulverized snowballs.
“Big brother! You're supposed to throw a snowball back!”
You finally reached the door, Trey reaching behind him and turning the knob. He pulled you in behind him, as Idia dove to the ground. Trey quickly slammed the door.
You were going to ask whether you should try to save Idia, but he looked at you in concern. He gently grabbed your hands in his own, rubbing them between his.
“Your hands are so cold. There's hot cocoa in my dorm.”
“Hot cocoa,” you muttered, as your fingers started to burn from the lingering frostbite.
“And I can make some warm bread…”
“Oh,” you whispered in awe, slowly following him as he walked backwards to the mirror chamber.
“The kitchen is very warm…”
“Yeah…”
You heard a snowball hit the door, and were nearly pulled out of the cozy hypnosis that Trey had put you under, but he whispered.
“Heartslaybul has very soft blankets.”
And then you were right back under.
Tag list- @eccedentesiast-sapphic @leoll
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neonscandal · 5 months
Note
Hello, I'm new here and I really liked your tumblr. I would like it if you could answer my question. Don't you think Saturo is a little needy, you know he always wants to get people's attention, he always wants to force a friendship, that scares me a little, he can even be unnecessary sometimes.
Hiii! I literally have no idea how you came across my blog but I'm happy if it made you feel welcome ❤️ Thanks for reaching out.
Tumblr media
Don't be scared by the tall man with the impossible eyes and bulk volume suffering. He's here to help! ✨
I mean, you pretty accurately described Gojo, tbqh. He is needy, I wouldn't say he wants to get people's attention... but he has it, anyway, he is desperately reaching out for human connection, he frequently ponders and is consumed by the unnecessary (just as much as the necessary) and people tend to conflate his strength with his identity.
How do we put one at ease with this larger than life personality? We speedrun it, of course. The best way to empathize with someone is to understand how they got from point A to point D and this is as it applies in real life, too. Consider this my humble offering toward this threat I made a few years ago. Going to avoid spoilers beyond what's been animated but this is still going to be a long one so strap in! JK there's a minor spoiler that's marked (⚠️) but it's not a major plot point.
IN DEFENSE OF GOJO
A mostly unsolicited essay ✨
Before we get into how Gojo became Gojo, let's look at the basic information we know about jujutsu society in universe.
Curses are formed by negative emotional runoff, typically from people who can't control cursed energy.
There are humans who are born with cursed techniques but the brains of humans so their powers were dormant until Kenjaku!Geto activated them in the last episode of season 2.
Those with power that are beyond the comprehension of the elders happen to find themselves carrying death sentences (as it applies to Yuta Okkotsu and Yuji Itadori, specifically).
There are 3 Big Families: the Gojo, Kamo, and Zenin Clans, likened to nobility, which have been active since the Golden Age of Jujutsu hundreds of years ago.
Generally, the Gojo clan inherits the Limitless technique. Six Eyes is a lot less frequent and both techniques haven't manifested in one user in over 100 years until Gojo was born. (Purple or Hollow Purple is another hidden move which each family has some extra razzle dazzle offshoots from their main cursed technique.)
Kamo clan passes along Blood Manipulation (re: Choso, Noritoshi Kamo, the Kyoto student, and Noritoshi Kamo, the blemish on the Kamo clan who created the cursed womb paintings)
Zenin clan has the Ten Shadows Technique (re: Megumi. Bear in mind, previously a Zenin Ten Shadows user fought a Gojo Six Eyes + Limitless user and the fight ended in a stalemate that resulted in both of their deaths).
Anomalies, like that of Maki and Toji, exist even in these age old clans where an heir is born without the ability to manipulate cursed energy and/or see curses.
Of the above and those of the main cast specifically, the inheritors of these generations' old techniques have pretty shit origin stories. They are privileged but cursed in a way. Heavy is the head, and all.
BIG THREE FAMILY CULTURE
We haven't gotten a lot of insight into the Gojo clan except that it's basically a clan of one: Satoru Gojo.
Noritoshi, the Kyoto student, bears the name of the blot of the Kamo clan and is a bastard son who happened to inherit the familial technique. Because of this, he is shepherded into the fold of the Kamo the family, foisted into a position of responsibility, and separated from his "disgrace" of mother. She leaves him, knowing her presence would hold him back, and hopes that her sacrifice in doing so will enable him to better help others. ⚠️ However, when Kenjaku!Geto used remote Idle Transfiguration to awaken dormant vessels and dormant cursed technique users, the proper firstborn heir of the Kamo clan's inherited technique was awakened which swiftly saw Noritoshi's expulsion from his status and the clan.
The most damning evidence we have of the culture of these families is from the Zenin clan:
They terrorized Toji Zenin, despite his inhuman strength, simply because he was born without the ability to manipulate cursed energy. To the extent that an incident from his childhood left his face scarred and likely radicalized him into the sorcerer killer he is today.
Mai and Maki were gravely mistreated because, in addition to being girls, they were born twins which is considered highly unfavorable.
The twin superstition is "justified" by Mai's weak cursed technique and Maki's inability to see curses or manipulate cursed energy.
The misogynistic treatment of the girls is likely not uncommon within the Big Three families given 1) what we've seen happen to Kamo's mom, 2) the treatment of the twins' mother, and 3) the way that Gojo vehemently advises that Tsumiki would never be happy with the Zenin clan (as both a jujutsu outside and because she's a girl as determined by events that haven't been animated yet).
Empirically, from the above, we can extrapolate that familial ties don't mean shit in the Big Three Families, blood relations are tenuous at best. Tradition, power and hereditary techniques reign supreme to maintain status. Those outside of the blessed few are at the mercy of more powerful members of the family which will be more evident in season 3.
💡 As an aside, kinda interesting to think about Geto's ideology applied to these traditional families. In fact, I wonder if Geto cultivated his beliefs based on what Gojo told him about his family.
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UNDERSTANDING THE CHARACTERIZATION OF GOJO
Now that we understand society as Gojo would have known it, let's get into how he experiences the world from birth.
Canonically, his birth shifted the power balance between sorcerers and curses. A lot of readers assume he has a god complex which, in addition to being categorically false, is more a reflection of his canonical in universe power. He is neither a god nor does he necessarily perceive himself to be one. But that's not to say he doesn't have a bit of an attitude problem.
He is born with both the Limitless and Six Eyes techniques which, again, hasn't happened in over 100 years. Subsequently, stronger curses are on the rise to compensate for this dramatic shift in power.
💡 Lowkey, I kinda headcanon that the influx of more powerful curses comes from the bitter resentment that periphery individuals must have harbored against Gojo because, let's be real. He's clearly Mappa's favorite and it brings out the anti in everybody IRL lol I can only imagine in universe if you were born to a jujutsu family and lost out on the genetic lottery when it came to cursed energy.
He explicitly draws the ire of curses and cursed users alike with a bounty that immediately incites an onslaught of first come, first serve mercenaries. As a child. Even Toji, the great sorcerer killer, tries to get the drop on a young Satoru Gojo but none are successful at coming close. Not even the invisible man.
From what we know of the Big Three above, the miracle of Gojo's inheritance would likely push him into a place of great power and influence within his clan, even from an early age. Further, we've seen what the burden of responsibility an inherited technique looks like as it applies to Noritoshi Kamo. Gojo would have been burdened with this status and, simultaneously, constantly placated by others so as to appease the miraculous heir.
Additionally, as we saw with Noritoshi, other clans may also have a vested interest in currying favor with the young heir because even proximity to Gojo creates a sense of power and status.
By blood, Yuta is a distant, distant cousin of Gojo's from a branch family and we see how OP he is.... Later in the story, Gege makes it a point to use the Great Satoru Gojo as a measure of power and, subsequently, more explicitly how close other characters' power, prowess or technique come close to that of Gojo's.
Subsequently, as the Kamo clan heir, Noritoshi tries to ingratiate himself to Megumi despite the fact that he's no longer even connected to the Zenin clan. He curses that Mai didn't inherit Ten Shadows to make relations a bit smoother. Gojo would likely have several people vying for his attention and grace whether he wants it or not.
I think you can see how, a smart kid like Gojo who literally has nothing but time to process and compute the ways of the world around him, would come to understand the motivations of others as it specifically relates to him and his power. It would be understandable if he were innately wary and distrustful of others, especially when you consider his initial experience as the target of an onslaught of, albeit unsuccessful, assassination attempts.
Here, I think, is what really gives life to the isolation that Gojo feels from a very young age which is only known by those with immense power like Sukuna and other characters who've yet to be revealed. Gojo is less an individual and more a means to an end. He is a monolith for power, protection and status. His power is so incomprehensible for other sorcerers of the era that his potential for vulnerability is taken for granted.
With a culture that prioritizes strength over, perhaps, morality, it makes sense why, when we see Gojo years later as a high school student, he is relatively disrespectful toward his elders and thinks it is silly that the strong should have to diminish themselves for the comfort of the weak. Bear in mind, this disrespect is likely because no one was really checking him on manners from a young age. Further, from his experience, strength has always been commodified, why would you diminish that? He was and remains head of the Gojo clan with all the pomp and circumstance that comes with that.
Enter Suguru Geto, the smoking gun as to why we know Gojo doesn't have a god complex. Suguru, like Geto, is the only other special grade sorcerer aside from Yuki Tsukumo (and she makes it a point to not take missions). Qualified as equals, the two are constantly doled out missions that higher ups are not even equipped to handle. Try not catching an ego about that.
Even though their power may not necessarily be on par with one another, it is enough that Gojo deems Geto an equal. Their friendship tempers Gojo's character in ways his family could not.
THE HUMANITY OF A GOD
Gojo is not a god but, to those around him, he's certainly lauded as such. Part of that entails inherently overlooking that which makes him vulnerable, makes him human. As someone who can, at will, literally turn off the ability to be touched at all, the premise is ironic. But the fact remains, from all the above and his behavior therein, it seems as though Gojo had to wait until high school to act like a kid at all and that is all thanks to Geto.
As an outsider, Geto's opposing ideology suggests that the strong are meant to protect the weak and keep others who are strong in check. Gojo is frequently shown taking Geto's criticism and point of view under critical advisement. In fact, realizing how out of touch he is with the reality of others, he defers to Geto as a moral compass, trusting implicitly in his judgement.
Not only that but, from what we saw during the Kyoto Goodwill Event, it is not uncommon for sorcerers to be wary of disclosing what their cursed technique is to other sorcerers. You can never be too careful nor can you know who's a cursed user in the making, even amongst your own classmates. With inherited techniques, word gets around but... Geto, an outsider, was intimately aware of the drawback Gojo experienced when overusing his technique and that speaks volumes about how comfortable Gojo was being vulnerable with him.
Geto encourages Gojo to speak more politely to his elders, again, a pushback he clearly wasn't getting anywhere else or, perhaps, direction he simply wasn't taking from anyone else.
Because Gojo recognizes Geto as an equal, he is more relaxed and able to behave accordingly which Geto graciously allows and creates a safe space for. Imagine all the steam this little weirdo has been holding in out of obligation? Moreover, as someone who has always undeniably been the strongest person in any room, imagine the relief in finally knowing that there is someone else you can rely on? Feel safe with? Someone you can be needy and greedy with. Gojo found his One and Only best friend.
Geto allows him to authentically be himself AND HE STARES AT HIM LIKE THIS WHILE DOING SO!
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Additionally, we talk about Gojo being unnecessary at time, which he is. I poke a lot of fun at how Gojo will take in what someone like Yaga explains to him and then the output is some Digimon reference a lot. He literally speaks in gibberish half the time but Geto just... understands him. Or makes it a point to try. Bear in mind, Gojo's silly goofiness belies his penchant for serious contemplation, as well, as he's knowledgeable about historical poetry, prominent figures and events. The dichotomy of this is whiplash inducing to Ijichi. If you think about the adage, those who don't know history are destined to repeat it, it shines an interesting light on why Gojo seems to have such a wealth and emphasis on the history of not only jujutsu sorcerers but also other politics at play dating back centuries. Even more so if you consider ItaFushi to be SatoSugu 2.0 as... the story kind of feels that way, doesn't it? BACK TO THE POINT, Gojo behaves like a fool but he isn't stupid.
I think this arrogance and silly facade is a product of being plugged into the reality of what it truly means for the few to protect the greater good. He's probably hyper aware of the prospective survival rate of his peers based on empirical information he has at his disposal. It's why he pointblank tells Ijichi not to become a sorcerer. I think it's also why he's frivolous with having and creating fun. Not just for his kohais but later for his students. With Geto, he experiences a closeness he hadn't had with anyone else and it improves his ability to connect with others by extension.
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I know this is not from the canon material but I think this is the perfect inclusion as to Gojo's proclivity for frivolity. LOOK AT HIM.
MISSION FAILURE AND FALL OUT
Based on the information we have currently, Gojo didn't exactly have the same splintered origins that Megumi and Noritoshi had. But from the above and his socialization with people outside of the Gojo clan, we see how coming from a place of privilege can still create deficiencies. But it isn't enough to simply learn and benefit from the good times. Maybe people take for granted that which isn't tested or taken away. We can't fully understand adult Gojo without understanding the failures of teenage Gojo.
Tasked with a mission that literally impacts the fate of the world and is relayed as such, the two special grade sorcerers take on the Star Plasma Vessel mission. As we saw in season 2, it didn't exactly end well. From this we can glean the following:
From the beginning and despite that which hung in the balance if they were unsuccessful, Gojo and Geto were willing to blow it all, come what may, if the vessel opted out of the merger. They were willing to fight Tengen themselves to spare one life even if it destabilized everything else. The idea of which seems Icarian in nature and we saw how that worked out for Icarus.
Toji's plan of attrition (wearing Gojo down specifically) was successful partly because of the false sense of security engineered by Shiu Kong that allowed them to recapture Kuroi.
However, based on Gojo's hubris, Gojo and Geto were already living in a false sense of security. Any attempts Geto made to temper Gojo's ego were appeased by the fact that, he wasn't alone. Finally. He had Geto and Gojo was insulated in the comfort and security he found in Geto's company. He could take on Tengen, he could risk another night in Okinawa burning through his stamina. It did not matter if he had Geto to rely on. They were the strongest.
Turns out it did matter and they were both foiled, thoroughly. The fall out of these events results in the following:
Gojo's evolution wherein he learns how to control reversed curse energy which shoots him past his previous limits.
Gojo avenges his loss to Toji and Riko, by extension (that order feels important to mention). He achieves a level of enlightenment and transcendence which saw the successful use of the Red Technique that he'd been unable to use in a fight against a lackey during the same mission which also made it possible to execute the finisher attack Hollow Purple, resulting in the fight's end.
Upon reclaiming Riko's body from the Time Vessel Association, Gojo, in the haze of his victory, asks Geto if they should slaughter the people celebrating Riko's death. Showing that, regardless of his power up, he still needs Geto's guidance and values the opinion of his equal. I say this even though we know Gojo lies about Shoko treating his injuries. Even he's aware that this latest evolution creates a greater disparity between their relative strength but he defers to him anyway.
Geto begins questioning whether the lives of non-sorcerers who are capable of such evil are really worth fighting and/or dying for.
The acknowledgement that, even though there is nothing beyond special grade classification, Gojo became the strongest.
Foundationally, Gojo came to terms with the vulnerability that Toji was able to exploit and subsequently trained to remediate that. Simultaneously, Geto fell deeper and deeper into a despair over a persisting moral crisis that Gojo, with Six Eyes at his disposal, was incapable of seeing or understanding. The occurrence of which is maddening to me, personally but such is the way of a fatal flaw.
Geto's subsequent and "sudden" defection pulled the rug from beneath Gojo's feet.
We have seen him dust off countless attempts on his life as a child, shoulder the burden of the Gojo clan as a child, execute his obligations as a sorcerer regardless of his beliefs as a child, and bear the brunt of jujutsu society because of the magnitude of his strength as a child and he never batted an eye. Not to say he didn't have something flippant to say about it but he endured it.
But with Geto's abandonment, whatever security he'd finally found was abruptly destabilized and it's important to note that only when it comes to Geto do we see Gojo's nonchalant facade falter. When he learns of the attack on the village with Yaga, when he confronts Geto in the streets of Shinjuku, when he encounters Kenjaku wearing Geto's corpse, he's not so silly goofy anymore is he?
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Finding Geto was like finally feeling the warmth of the summer sun on your face after living in the shadows of a cave all your life. For Gojo, his departure was like never knowing that warmth again.
Not to mention, his immense power and status of being the only other special grade sorcerer meant he also had to carry the weight of being his best friend's executioner. Please.
He spends his adult life cultivating strength in others, rescuing kids from a society that seeks to destroy what they refuse to understand, uniting other so they aren't burdened by the same loneliness that plagues him and, whenever possible, trying to bring light and fun to the lives of kids who may never make it out of high school because that's the reality of sorcerers. That's the burden of responsibility they carry so, in between missions, he tries to be silly, he tricks them, he leads them on wild goose chases so they actually get out and experience their youth properly.
You're not meant to fear Gojo. Fear the society that allowed for these things to happen because he's trying to fix it. If anything, pity the man who is not allowed to be weak or vulnerable because he has always known the weight of the world. He could have been a god but he chose instead to love and it was his undoing.
If you'd like to pity Gojo further, dive into an expansive list of all the SatoSugu brainrot I could think of.
Lowkey, this feels like a call out, because why am I also terrible like this?? Am I being cyber bullied? I feel like this took me several days to write.
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